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1kook · 3 years

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crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast.

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office.

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5.

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses.

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful.

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.”

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.”

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.”

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking.

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever.

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours.

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together.

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.)

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be.

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you.

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber.

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend.

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary.

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days.

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.)

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like.

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites.

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?”

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.”

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind.

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into.

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway.

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin.

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear.

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass.

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you.

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak.

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead.

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat.

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts.

They go like this:

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really.

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively.

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once.

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you.

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome.

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek.

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts.

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.”

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles.

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild.

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums.

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again.

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning.

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.”

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment.

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him.

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned.

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.”

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.”

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.”

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.”

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“—

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear.

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer.

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole.

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips.

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise.

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath.

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue.

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger. “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…”

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?”

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles.

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over.

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more.

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them.

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub.

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face.

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention.

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock.

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand.

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane.

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh.

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be.

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds.

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter.

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic.

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock.

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you.

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip.

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl.

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully.

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin.

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said.

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away.

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself.

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you.

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once.

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth.

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets.

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever.

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries.

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you.

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question.

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest.

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

#networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #Jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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impulsivefanwriter · 3 years

Text

A Tiny Spark Leads to a Roaring Flame (But Flames Can Always be Doused by Water)

Heeyyyyy so y’all know the Reverse Thanos Snap AU for SPBNR? Basically everyone but Smith/S!Kai gets sent to the M!verse. Everyone. The entire population of S!verse Ninjago City & a few surrounding areas. Except poor Smith. Essentially it happens because S!Garmadon tries to send Smith to a place where he can't mess with his plans, and ends up sending everyone away from Smith to take him out of the equation.

The second part to this AU is that the S!Ninja end up searching for Kai in the chaos and grab the Red Ninja before jetting out of there with the Bounty. Except... they didn’t grab Smith (who’s still home), but rather Red (M!Kai).

Red thinks the S!Ninja are babysitter clones created by Garmadon after he somehow turned Lloyd younger without his memories & is trying to raise him to be his new General #1. With this in mind, he pretends to be S!Kai, and waits for the moment he can rescue Lloyd.

What would happen in the S!Ninja discovered his deception/their mistake of grabbing a wrong Kai and mistake Red for a recreated Aki (aka Bizarro Evil Clone Kai) before he could enact his plan?

Well, this is that idea. (Title inspired by how a crack AU spiralled into a beautiful angst-fest)

Enjoy. :3

-----*-----

Red was going to get Lloyd out of here tonight.

Away from these Not-Friends made by Garmadon to emulate the Ninjaforce. Away from this flying ship built to emulate Master Wu's ship, so familiar and yet so off. Away from this false reality and back to the real everything where they could hopefully get his memories back and his age back and everything back to the way it was before the city descended into chaos.

He just had to... bide his time. Be patient.

FSM, he was bad at being patient.

His hands itched to grab Lloyd and run now, but he was horribly outnumbered and without his mech. No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn't rush this. If he did, he would make everything worse. Like he always did.

But fate- or rather, Lloyd- had other plans.

The little version of his younger brother- yes, they were roughly the same age normally, shut up, Lloyd was still his younger brother- had been... eying him weird all morning. Not like Not-Jay and Not-Cole and Not-Zane, but like Not-Nya. Like he actually knew instead of suspected. These babysitter clones seemed to think he was the Not-Kai, and if that was the opportunity the universe was going to give him, then by the flames of the departed world was he going to skip this chance to save Lloyd.

Currently he stood on the deck of the ship as they parked in the sky a few meters above the docks on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't the docks with the Bounty warehouse, curse his luck, but it wasn't the endless sky or the empty ocean (though it was still too close to that murky, haunting water for his liking. Water was his sister's domain for a reason). At least he could sneak Lloyd off in the cover of night, maybe find someone in the city who wouldn't recognize the Son of Garmadon this way and would be willing to help them hide until they could make it back to the real ninja.

"Kai," Not-Zane spoke suddenly next to him.

Red would never get used to the way his voice... lacked the same effect the real Zane's had. The effect that Kai and the rest of his team had assured their friend over and over was unique, special, but in a good way. To embrace it. That it wasn't noticeable, but when it was, that it was so Zane that his friends didn't care that it was different.

This 'Zane' sounded much too different than his own. He hadn't recognized Kai's tested line of 'road work ahead' when they passed one of the many construction signs littering the city (even more so since the chaos happened a week ago), and instead had responded with 'a great deal of work to fix in the city'.

Seriously, Garmadon, do better research on your clones.

Not-Zane was also much too... calm. Too 'wise' compared to the wild teen that was Zane. And he walked without heelies or whatever Zane used to slide around like a boss, though he was still silent. And that meant, like now, he snuck up on Red fairly often- and Red was training to be a Ninja, so that took serious talent.

"Kai," Not-Zane said again, and Red finally broke his gaze from where he'd been staring over the railing, planning tonight's escape route. "Lunch has been made for over an hour. Are you alright?"

Red forced his brightest smile. "Course I'm alright! Just trying to figure out what happened, as usual."

Why Lloyd was suddenly like, 8, and without his memories. Why the Not-Friends were on this Not-Ship and had mistaken him for Not-Kai. Why the city was in a state of disarray and chaos.

Not-Zane studied him, then turned to give the city a sad look. "I'm not sure myself. My scanners can't seem to figure out what is happening. It is as if... blocked by some force."

Red winced, then expertly disguised the move by leaning against the rail. Zane never would use 'my scanners', despite how often Red and the others assured him it was okay. Yet another reason why this wasn't his friend.

"You know Ninjago City," Red said with a weak laugh. "Always one crisis or another. Always those annoying Garmadon Attacks"

This seemed to satisfy Not-Zane, who nodded thoughtfully. "This event definitely seems to have Garmadon's hand in the mess."

He patted Red on the back. "Well, don't worry yourself ragged, Kai. Come in for lunch soon, alright? We have training for Lloyd later."

Ah, right. Training. AKA what Red assumed was how Garmadon was planning to shape this impressionable version of his friend into his new General #1.

"I'm ready for training now, Zane!"

Speaking of Lloyd-

The little gremlin came up from the hull with the rest of the Not-Ninja. Red hated when the entire group was together; it was way more difficult to act as Not-Kai around them, especially around Not-Nya.

For starters, Not-Jay had a notch in his eyebrow that the real Jay never had. He was missing the iconic freckles, and the scarf, and the fluffy hair, though you could always say it was just a wardrobe change. What you couldn't change was the personality differences. This couldn’t be Jay. Jay was anxious and quiet, his jokes (while plentiful) said more timidly and his newest ideas shared with hesitance that only shrank after years of encouragement. He would never be this loud, ever.

Not-Cole was the leader, probably because Lloyd was so young. But even then, in Red's team, Nya would probably take second-command. Cole was their sturdy support, yes, but he was chill, laid-back. Ready to follow and support his friends to the ends of the earth with his tunes and occasional sarcastic wit, but not lead. Not like Not-Cole, who was more serious and commanding and didn't. listen. to. music. Red hadn't spotted a single record or boombox in the room in the hull. That was a tragic oversight on Garmadon's part. The members of his research team should be Fired.

And then there was Not-Nya. Who wore a dress with confidence that his sister would love but never publicly wear. Who had short hair- Nya had tried that style once, and decided it itched around her neck too much- and jewelry, and a giant flying Samurai mech suit. His sister had the Water Strider Mech, and Not-Nya had a flying combat suit. Sure. Close enough. Personality-wise they were similar.

Similar at first glance. Nya was fluid and adaptable to whatever role she needed filling. She was spunky, and as fiery as him when it came to tempers, though she knew how to keep hers in check (she had to, right? No one called her hot-headed and impulsive and reckless and blamed her temper for mistakes or damage or whatever the news comments liked to say about the Fire Mech). Not-Nya was also adaptable and independent-minded, but she seemed more rigid. More doing her own thing.

Point was, everyone wasn't actually his friends, despite how much they tried to prove they were. And they kept acting like he was this Not-Kai, who was just as hot-headed but apparently more mature and training-oriented and basically the better, cooler (or hotter, perhaps, for the fire theme of the red ninja) him, since his acting never seemed to fully convince them. Trying to impersonate a standard he couldn't seem to reach, some legendary hero he wasn't- er, wasn't yet! Yeah! He just needed to prove himself, be better, and he'd be fine. Just... fine. Yeah.

Mini-Lloyd (Red was tempted to call him L'ilyod in his head, but that felt wrong somehow, like he was infringing on some kind of copyright law) stared at him like a goddamn falcon, and he wasn't talking about the bird that circled the ship. He had this bowl-cut Red would tease him about endlessly after all this was over- seriously, how had Mr. Fabulous Hair started with this mess? Garmadon probably didn't even have hair, so there was no way the guy knew how to style it, and it was very evident based on Mini-Lloyd's hairdo.

Red noticed that all of them were staring, actually. Despite his relaxed rest against the rails, his fingers behind his back clutched the cool bar with a dull shake. He didn't notice how the metal seemed to glow red under his touch.

"Training, right, we should get onto that," Red tried. "What do you want to start with, Lloyd?"

"How about a little game?" Lloyd asked with complete innocence. "What we were playing last week before we got interrupted."

Oh sh!t.

"I-I don't know, shouldn't we start with stretches? Or how about some sparring, that's always more fun than a game!"

"But I wanted to continue our game..." Mini Lloyd said, and FSM's sake, he couldn't deal with that pouting look.

Okay. Okay, don't panic. Think logically. What kind of game would an 8-year-old Lloyd like to play with him? Something physical, so no board games- he liked to test his mettle against Zane on those, and sometimes he would almost not-lose. Logic puzzles also fell more on Jay's area. Trivia, especially music trivia, was a bubble between the anxious motormouth and Cole. Video games fell on team building, and wouldn't classify as a training warmup.

"Well," Red said, taking a hopeful stab in the dark. "There's not too much space on the deck for... tag..."

Lloyd nodded, looking satisfied. The Not-Ninja looked- well, their expressions were hard to read because of how different it was compared to his friends. But Red was a master of deception (well, fire, but eh, technicalities), and he had them fooled, and he just had to keep it up until nightfall so he could rescue Lloyd and explain in a safe location-

"HE'S NOT KAI!"

Orrrrr improvise. Okay, yep, he could improvise.

Red lunged forward and grabbed Mini Lloyd's wrist from where he had his hand extended in an accusatory point. He ducked under Not-Jay's attempts to grab him- fast, but not as fast as his Jay, his Jay who could disappear from an awkward social interaction in the span of a flickering lightbulb- and dragged his younger brother with him as he vaulted over the railing. Not-Zane almost managed to yank him back onto the Not-ship, but his icy grip caught only empty air as Red pulled Lloyd into a tight hold and ducked.

He hit the dock below with a stumble, rolling back onto his feet and taking off with a very stubborn green ninja in tow. It took all his strength to drag Lloyd (kicking and screaming like he was being kidnapped or something when Red was just trying to rescue him, for FSM's sake. Lloyd didn't know that, but he could still try to be at least a little more considerate.)

The wooden docks creaked and shuddered underfoot and Red grimaced; whoever rebuilt them after the latest Garmadon attack had shredded them like newspaper clearly hadn't wasted any unnecessary change. It certainly didn't help that Lloyd packed quite the punch for someone so small. Red definitely would come out of this with bruised shins and arms from where Mini Lloyd tried to push him away, but it would be worth it to keep his teammate, his younger brother, safe.

Then green filled his vision and broke his hold on Lloyd's wrist, sending him skidding across the dock planks as he was sent flying. When he finally rolled to a stop, neck and shoulder stinging from where the blast had caught him (no burns, just jitters like he'd been shocked), he had to take a few seconds to re-orient himself. Did the Not-Ship have cannons or something? What hit him from behind, so close it could have hit Lloyd?

Lloyd. Was Lloyd okay?

Red pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the bleeding scrapes on his hands and legs from where he'd gotten banged up by the splintered docks. His gaze, sharp and frantic, searched for signs of green. The warning of more blasts, the flash of the fabric of a gi, anything.

He spotted his brother in the arms of Not-Cole. No, no, no-

And suddenly Not-Nya was there, given a boost by Not-Jay. Her grip was as if she were wearing the robotic mech suit, harsh and powerful and near in-human. She threw Red back to the dock floor as her face twisted with the fury of a storming ocean. A resounding crack rang out over the harbour.

Red couldn't tell if it came from the planks under him or his own shoulder.

She pinned him to the wood, barking accusations and threats in his face faster than Not-Jay could talk. Red blinked through a haze of pain, trying to focus on her face and words. She was missing the beauty mark on her face, he noticed. Yet another tell she wasn't his sister.

"-scar on the wrong side-" And it was hard to hear again over the ringing in his ears. He tried to throw her off, get back to Lloyd, anything, but he was-

Useless.

Her hands suddenly got in his face, slamming his left cheek to the wood. She was close- close to his face, close to his eye, close to his scar- pushing and prying as she tried to do something. Red picked up in his struggling, his attempts to free himself turning to desperate shoves and wild clawing like a trapped animal. He wouldn't let this creation of Garmadon's finish the job that teen had started all those years ago.

"Or better yet, he needs to shut his damn mouth."

The flash of a knife. His vision half-blurry. Blood- so much blood- and a lasting scar.

"-contacts-" "-red-" "-struggling-" "-we know what he- it- is already-" "-not the real Kai-" "-wish-" "-Garmadon-"

He had to get away. Get Lloyd away from them now.

In one surge of strength- and yep, his shoulder definitely wasn't okay after that move, as if he'd ripped it not just from its socket but from its very attachment to his body- he knocked Not-Nya aside. If he could’ve seen through the red haze, he might have noticed red embers dancing around his fingertips as his desperation and fear tapped into something deep in his soul.

He tried to shoot to his feet, tried to run for Lloyd (held so tight in Not-Cole's grip, surely they were hurting him, he couldn't let that happen-). He roared, "LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE!", but before he could take another step through Not-Jay and Not-Zane in his path, the docks gave one last ominous shudder before deciding it had finally had enough.

The planks crumbled underfoot like charred firewood in a crackling campfire, and Red was sent tumbling into the frigid ocean water below.

#spbnr #reverse Thanos snap au #reverse thanos snap #ninjago #lego ninjago #same People but not really #kai ninjago

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thenexusofsouls · 3 years

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Muse: “Priestess”/Esther Sun

[Bio and other information below the cut!]

Type of Character & Fandom/Source Material: Canon character from the movie Priest (2011)

FC: Maggie Q as “Priestess” in Priest

Race: Human (Priest genetic variant)

Age: 32

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Heteroromantic/heterosexual, but is under a vow of celibacy

Family: Parents and a younger sister she hasn’t seen since she was eight years old

Occupation: A Priest, which is basically a religiously-oriented, specialized soldier with supernatural abilities trained to hunt and kill the creatures known as vampires

Potentially Triggering Material in Threads: Violence; blood; death; grief; forced service; PTSD; trauma-induced nightmares; war-related trauma

Negative Personality Traits: She can be cold and stoic, and sometimes comes across as cruel, only because she’s very practical and doesn’t sugar coat things

Positive Personality Traits: She’s brave and selfless, and is more compassionate and empathetic than she lets on

Background, Unique to Esther: Esther was taken from her family by the Church at the age of eight and forced to train as a Priest. Basically, Priests/Priestesses make themselves apparent by their supernatural abilities, which can manifest either early or later in life. Usually the first signs that one has the potential to become a Priest is heightened senses/awareness, improved reflexes, sometimes faster healing, and heightened strength. Esther displayed these at a very young age and was taken as soon as the Church noticed. She was forced to forget her family and her identity, no longer being permitted to call herself by her name, but only by “Priestess.” The only one she has shared her real name with is Ivan, a fellow Priest in her same hunting party. Hunting parties were decided by the Church and usually were comprised of Priests of varying skills to make the party most effective. Esther’s skills are with the blade rope, a long, barbed, whip-like rose with a larger blade on the end of it that can be used like a whip, a tripwire, a bolo, or a sword, depending on how she wields it.

Background, Shared With Ivan: Priests were noticed by the Church and recruited to fight against the “vampires,” which, unlike traditional vampires who are “sparkly” or romanticized version of humans, were more feral, animal-like creatures with no eyes that hunt by smell and heat signatures. They’re not sexy emo men, they’re a different species entirely. They’re brutal, savage hunters with a queen overseeing them all. They kill and eat humans, but sometimes they make familiars (when a vampire makes you drink their blood instead of the other way around) that are tied to the vampires that made them. Unlike the vampires, who burn up in the sun, their familiars can be out in the daytime and thus can protect their master’s coffin or get valuable information for him/her on where food might be located at night.

There was at some point a great war between humans and vampires, and the humans won, only by virtue of the Priests, which are unbeknownst to most of them, genetic variants that are more highly evolved than humans. These natural variants that have occurred over time have better skills, faster healing, and supernatural abilities over and above regular humans. The Church controls the Priests’ “Order” and issues them commands based on their agenda. Because the Priest genetic variation is hereditary, all Priests are forced to take a vow of celibacy upon induction into the Order. The Church tells them this is necessary for them to eliminate distractions and dedicate the whole of their lives to the service of the Church and the protection of mankind. In actuality, the Church does not want them breeding, growing in numbers, and perhaps rising to defy them, so they enforce the vow of celibacy to limit their reproductive capabilities.

After the war ended, the remaining vampires were placed on reservations where they were restricted to a certain area. Humans lived in protected cities where the Church’s influence is strong, but some humans lived in towns far away from the cities to live by their own rules and not be under thee Church’s thumb. Some people even live out on the Fringes, the barren deserts with contaminated soil from radioactive weapons of old that span the landscape between the cities and towns. The Priests were disbanded and expected to integrate back into regular society. Because of the horrors of the war and the forced nature of their service, and because many Priests were taken as children, war was the only thing many of them knew. Being a soldier was the only skillset they had. To suddenly be expected to get mundane jobs in waste management or public service was an unrealistic expectation at best. Many of them fell into a deep depression while others became angry. Still others tried their best to integrate but were turned away by many employers because they had “no applicable skills.” It was as if society was just throwing them away, even though mankind had literally be saved by them. It was crushing and infuriating for both Ivan and Esther to navigate civilian life with little to no support. On top of that, Priests were seen as frightening figures in society. Most people shun them, mothers pull their children away from them, and in some ways, they’re seen as monsters just the same as the vampires are.

When Ivan went against the Church who wanted to keep the Priests out of commission and decided to go after his kidnapped daughter, Esther was reinstated by the Church along with a few other former Priests to hunt Ivan down. Instead of hunting him to capture or kill him, however, she warned him and then joined his cause. After Lucy was rescued, Jacob/Black Hat had gone missing, and the Church’s denial about the existence of free vampires attempting to invade the cities was exposed, Ivan and Esther went rogue permanently to try and figure out what the vampires’ plan was... and hopefully to bring other former Priests over to their cause.

Contemporary Verse: I could see the Priests being a division of the CIA, FBI, or in a Marvel Verse maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. or S.W.O.R.D., to fight vampires, creatures like them, or other supernatural or alien threats. They would be much like the Avengers, in that they would be specialized soldiers deployed to stop supernatural, high-tech, or not well understood threats to earth or mankind. I probably wouldn’t hold them to the vow of celibacy, but if possible I would want to keep them rather corruptly run, as it fits with how they’re deployed and managed.

Potential Starter Ideas:

In her canon world, Esther could rescue your muse from vampires, or you could team up with her to fight/track them.

In a contemporary verse, she would be good as a hired or assigned supportive agent/hunter/etc. on missions of all sorts. Maybe even law enforcement or FBI-associated, something like that.

There are a lot of other slice of life things I’m sure we could figure out, depending on your muse.

Fun facts:

Esther has been in love with Ivan for years, but believes he has never felt the same. She respects his adherence to their vows as Priests, even if they break her heart.

She had a friend and fellow Priest named Jacob who became the only human vampire in existence after drinking the queen’s blood.

She secretly believes there is a way to cure the familiar condition, but has never had enough time to properly research it.

#muse: esther sun #about the muses #{so for those who have seen the movie}#{i am including some information from the deleted scenes and plans for sequels that never happened}#{along with my own headcanons and plans for the sequel I want to write}#{so a lot of this is canon but some is my own continuation}

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weheirsofdurin · 3 years

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Lets go for another fluff piece. (Pre-hobbit around the same time as the starter I did)

Five times Dwarvish Courting went over an elf’s head, one time it didn’t

Filirubbed at the smooth rock in his hand, the pad of his thumb catching on the only thing marking it’s surface. THe dwarven runes inlaid expertly caused his heart to pound heavily. Glancing down at the golden colored stone, the blue ruins a stark contrast.

His fond smile caught another’s attention and before he knew it, the elf named after the hero Glorfindel, stood before him. “What have you got there Master Dwarf?”

Looking up Fili hid the stone in his fist before wincing, it had been a startled reaction and nothing against his elven friend. “A gift.” He said simply then reaching out took Glorfindel’s hand and placed the stone within it. “There is lore that if you write on a stone and gift it to another, that it will come true.”

Turning on his heel the dwarf stormed off, back to his forge. Poor Glorfindel was left with the stone in his hand and dwarvish runes he did not understand glared up at him. “What was your wish, my little lion?” He wondered aloud in elvish before pocketing the stone.

Dwarves had such odd traditions at times.

.~:*:~.

Glorfindel entered the forge silently, as elves were known to do, and Fili never noticed the other man. Not at first. As he worked he hummed, mumbling words in a language Glorfindel had never thought to learn until now. He sang as he worked which the elf found endearing. When Fili turned and spotted him there was a hesitation in his movements and the song cut off.

“Lord elf, it is common courtesy to announce yourself upon entry to ones forge.” It was courtesy to announce oneself anywhere but Fili would not nit pick that for now.

“Ah, yes.” Glorfindel at least looked abashed at the slight chastisement. “You were singing so nicely though that I did not wish to interrupt.” This time it was Fili’s turn to turn a bright red on his nose and ears. “What iis it that you are making?”

“A gift.” Fili said and he set what looked to be the beginnings of a dagger onto a hot stone. His gloved hand held the prongs tight and his other hand reached for a hammer and he began to bang away. Immediately he began to sing again, the thrumm of the the song matching with the hammering and Fin found himself enthralled once again. This was how dwarves worked, how they kept pace, how their forges and weapons were so perfect. They sang to keep track and upon hitting certain points knew instinctively it was time to shift.

“Perhaps we can meet for dinner tomorrow eve, Lord Elf.” Fili spoke to Glorfindel as the metal blade was put back into the forge to heat back up.

Knowing a dismissal for what it was Glorfindel bowed. “Of course, Master Dwarf, I look forward to our meeting.”

WHen they did meet the following eve Fili and him only made it part way through their meal before a dwarf raced up to the blacksmith. “Fili, there’s a problem and we need you urgently.” Without hesitation Fili stood and there was an air of authority about him. Fin knew that Fili was in charge while the real leader was away so it made sense, but at the same time there was a regalness about this authority.

“Forgive me, Glorfindel, but I must go. I wished to properly give you this but please accept it even so,” REaching out Fili held a small dagger for Glorfindel, the leather that would wrap around his thigh looked old and worn, probably made from scraps previously. Accepting it he watched Fili run off and he pulled the blade from it’s sheathe. His breath caught.

This was a dwarven blade but its inlay was far more elven. The smooth curving lines which he realized were vines wrapped around the flat plane. Small thorns adorned it making the delicate lines sharp and threatening, the green pain practically glowed in the sun and along the hilt golden flowers were encrusted. Did Fili know of who he was to put this there? No he couldn’t. Fin had never told the dwarf who he was. Someone must have mentioned something though.

Wait- was this the blade Fili had been making yesterday?!

.~:*:~.

“Bugs?” Fili held a doubtful expression as he looked at his brother. He just could not believe it. Really. Elves thought bugs were appropriate for courting? That sounded too far-fetched.

“Aye, I heard it from Gimli who heard it from Gloin! Gloin said that he had met elves back in erebor and they were always giving each other bugs upon courting.” Kili insisted, his expression serious and Fili was struggling to figure out if he was being honest or playing him a fool. “Fine, dont believe me. It’s not like your stone gift or blade gift made him realize.”

“Ah- wait! Kili, come back. I just- I need to know more. Was it just worms or was it a specific bug or-?” Fili did not look forward to digging up worms to give to Glorfindel.

“I don’t know, but worms are abundant. Come on, I’ll help you collect them.”

Fili and Kili only returned a few hours later dirty and both looking smug, for vastly different reasons. Fili because he had just given his courting gift to Glorfindel, Kili because he made his idiot of a brother actually believe him about bugs.

Glorfindel, was just confused. With all these worms… did Fili wish to go fishing?

.~:*:~.

The bugs, Fili learned, turned out to be a lie. He had to explain to Glorfindel that Kili had insisted that elves liked bugs and that he should give some to the commander. Only to later learn from his mother that Kili had lied. Thankfully as soon as Glorfindel learned it was a prank on FIli by Kili, he understood and got a solid laugh out of it. The elf really had been utterly confused but it all made sense now.

Now, Glorfindel was searching for his friend in the hopes they might share a meal together and talk further. He had come to learn the dwarf knew very little of Glorfindel’s name other than there was a hero who had died that had the same name. The silly dwarf did not make the connection he was one and the same. Fin was Glorfindel, the bolrog slayer. An epiphat that he had never wished for but had taken it without remorse.

It had stung when Fili snorted at the story, how the Bolrog killed him by grabbing his hair and pulling him into the abyss. But at the same time he had understood, it was ironic - as the Dwarf had put it - that Glorfindel had fought in a war, had managed to defeat hundreds of enemies, even taken down a Bolrog, but the vanity all elves had which made them leave their hair fairly loose upon the battle field, was what had done him in.

Glorfindel had not thought of it before but it was true. Had he not let his hair be free it would not have been grabbed, he would have survived. Even now he never pulled it back truly, only was far mor conscious of it and the braids he used to keep the front out of his face. “Fili,” Glorfindel smiled at the dwarf and bowed in greeting.

“Fin.” His reply was terse but not uncaring. It seemed once again he was irritated by others looking to him without refused to what he was currently doing. Fili had once confided in Glorfindel that he didn’t even mind the stupid requests, it was when they were pressed upon him as he was doing something important that he minded.

“Would you like to come eat with me for the midday meal?” THe request barely left the elf’s lips, but FIli was already shoving all of his paperwork into Kili’s arms - the poor younger brother scowling - and making his way to Glorfindel’s side.

“Aye, Kili will be doing my duties for me while we go eat, part of his punishment for his cruel joke.”

“I said I was sorry,” Kili whined, but he knew his mother sided with Fili on this. Counting was not some trivial matter the be joked around with.

AFter the two had their meal, and Fili looking remorse knowing he had to go back, Glorfindel brought up what had been on his mind earlier. “Fili, I must go hunting soon, a pack of orcs were sighted nearby, by my scouts. We will be ridding the land of the pests and making sure none get close to the village.”

“Orca? Ye are sure they were sighted near?” When Glorfindel nodded Fili cursed. “I will gather a group of dwarves to hunt with ye-“

“No, Fili. This is how we elves shall repay you for the kindness you have allowed. Staying on your land may be mutually beneficial but few dwarves would offer this kindness up. I just request that you help me this even before I leave. It has come to my attention that my hair is a disadvantage in battle. WHile I am versed in putting it up for elven ceremonies, those styles are not fit for battle.”

Without thinking about it, Glorfindel reached out and touched a braid that surrounded Fili’s lips. “What are ye asking of me, Glorfindel? Do ye know?”

“I’m asking you to braid my hair, my friend. So that should an enemy grasp at it, I will not be felled again from some cliff.”

Fili looked infuriated as he tossed his mane of hair back, and tugged his braid free of the loose finger. “Fine.” His word was spat venomously and he stood, “I will be at your tent after the evening meal.”

Glorfindel did not know it, how could he when it was not part of his custom, but asking a dwarf to touch his hair was as intimate to the small men as sexual relations. His words stung and dishonored Fili. Calling him a friend as he touched a braid and asked for it in return, was saying he was no better than an easy fuck.

Fili was far too in love to say no though, so he took the insult and dishonor to his name. Showing up at the elf’s tent in a foul mood but still showing up because he did care. His fingers were rough but not unkind as he touched the long golden hair, he’d never seen hair this long as any dwarf with hair this length had long since put it up.Fili put in multiple braids, intertwining them at points to create a patter which would secure what was not put up before pulling all the hair together and tying it off with a leather strip.

What was left down was still one but would not flow far from his body and any grasp on it would be easy enough to remove. Glorfindel knew he could never recreate such an intricate style on his own, and was thankful for the dwarf’s help. But something about Fili looked off after and Glorfindel let the dwarf storm off without a word uttered.

There was no time to deal with this now and would have to wait until his return. PErhaps he had said something or asked something of Fili that was rude. But he had seen Fili braiding and pulling Kili’s hair back before, along with a female Dwarf’s. Thinking of this was just like riding in circles, getting him nowhere. Instead of worrying much further over it he heaved a sigh and left with his men.

“Lord Glorfindel…” One of his men rode closer and leaned over. “Did a dwarf do that for you?” He spoke lowly and GLorfindel narrowed his eyes, to speak so meant he knew something and hoped the others would not hear. So without a word Glorfindel nodded and noticed the grimace. “Was it a whore?”

Pulling on his reigns the horse reared before getting back under control and GLorfindel scowled. “You offer much dishonor to the one that did this for my by asking that.”

“Yes, but no more than you did by asking it of him.” THe elf had leaned away when the horse had reared and Glorfindel looked confused. “Dwarven culture states that hair is sacred in the sense of one another. Only family or one intimate may touch it. Even when they die none of their kind except their priests or family will bind their hair.”

Shocked by the revelation - now now understanding FIli’s fury - he reached back and touched the binding in his hair.

“Do not take it out.” The elf hissed quickly and urged his mount close once more. “You would dishonor him further. Think about it, if you had put flowers upon his head because he asked it of you, and then he removed it not long after…”

Glorfindel tore his hand away from the strap and nodded. Flowers were more sacred to his house than others so he understood deeply. Putting a crown of them upon FIli who thought of him differently, would be similar to what the dwarf had done for him. And if Fili returned later without the flowers he would be shamed like that of a petty bar whore.

“But I do think of him in such a way. I would be honored if he were to become my betrothed.”

The elf snorted and shook his head. “Would you sex a lady before offering to wed her?”

“I will fix this upon our return, thank you for bringing it to my attention.” Glorfindel urged his horse ahead and the elf fell behind, letting their leader think freely.

.~:*:~.

Glorfindel had not had the chance to meet with Fili since returning, but the looks dwarves gave him told him that the elf a fortnight ago was right. He had shamed FIli deeply. Finding the dwarf on the sparring field he made eye contact. Fili was about to start a bout and hesitated, only pausing long enough to remove his tunic much to the surprise of those around. Eyes fell upon Glorfindel once more and some sneered.

WAs this another dwarven culture problem? Did they remove tunics to spar? If so why had the other dwarf not? Why was it only FIli? Could this be because of his shame? As he watched FIli spar, noting every droplet of sweat that trailed down the dwarf’s frame, a woman came up to him.

Or he assumed it was as she- they, has chain jewelry going from their nose to multiple ear piercings. Their beard was kept short and the sideburns neat. Did that mean something? Considering how important hair was he thought so.

“Ye still wear his braids.” Her tone was not harsh, but curt. She was not pleased. “Ye should have removed them before returning. His shame would not be for all to see then.”

“You dishonor both him and I.” Glorfindel replied in a similar tone. He felt as if the repitition would never end. “I wear them still because I care. Do not mistake this as flagging him for something that was not intended. Elves are more lax about their hair than you dwarves and had I known, I would have started something with him first.”

She looked up at him in surprise. “Started something? Ye mean to ask my boy to be betrothed? AN elf and a dwarf, what insanity has this family been cursed with. Watch him carefully as he battles and congratulate him loudly, for all to hear. Win or lose, if ye do not, there will be no saving his honor.” The woman turned on her heel and left after that.

Glorfindel listened to her advice and when Fili bested his opponent he saw his untold queue, Blue dwarven eyes had flicked to him from where the owner stood, dripping sweat, in the middle of the field. “That was amazing FIli,” Glorfindel’s voice rang out and everyone looked at him once more. He might as well go all the way with this. “I’ve rarely seen such power as you displayed. A true master you must be. Come, let us eat and talk about what has been missed in my absence.”

Fili looked grateful and grabbed his tunic from the ground before going to catch up with the elf. Glorfindel supposed a proper talk could wait for tomorrow and for now a chat about what had happened in both of their absences was more paramount.

.~:*:~.

Fili sought out an elf after his meeting with Glorfindel and finally decided he needed to go to the source to do it right. His eyes had sought out a familiar face and upon finding it, he made his way to the tall elf that he figured was Glorfindel’s second in command. “Lord Elf,” He greeted and the elf bowed to him, knowing that FIli was in charge here and deserved respect for now.

“Master Dwarf.” The greeting returned could ahve been seen as rude but Fili was not so naive as to let the lack of names be anything more than simple unfamiliarity.

“I have a question for ye about yer customs, would you spare a few moments of time?”

“It seems to ahve taken you long enough to seek me out for this, a few moments will be of no concern.” When the elf stood up from the bow there was a cocky smirk upon his lips.

“I see one of ye are versed in my idiocy.”

…

Glorfindel sat in the open field, legs stretched before him but crossed at the ankles, just backing in the scent of flowers before him. Something light touched his head and was placed upon his brow. Carefully reaching up his fingers touched flowers and he blushed knowing it was a crown of them.

Looking over to the Dwarf he saw FIli smiling down at him and it dawned on him with this gift, what everything had been. “You have been courting me.” It was not voiced as a question and as such Fili did not reply. “Now you ask for my hand in marriage?”

“Aye, for it seems that my previous betrothal gifts while accepted were not understood.” Taking the crown from his head he looked it over, smiling at the arrangement before putting it back where it belong.

“Other gifts? More than just the hair?”

Fili looked surprised and blushed. “The hair was not a courting gift, it was cruel of me to accept and I did so in anger and hurt. I touched yer hair and put it on display for all to see that we were intimate but to ahve ye go out and about with it meant we were shameful.

“Nay, I meant the stone with Love inscribed, the hand crafted betrothal blade, ...the bugs Kili had told me were an elven courting gesture,” Glorfindel snorted at that, it made even more sense now why Kili was taking a harsh punishment for his actions, “and proving myself afore ye in the spar last eve. Had you not accepted that, there would be no hope now.”

“FIli, you should have just said something.”

“Tis not how courting goes.” The dwarf grumbled but stopped as Fin reached up to put a hand on his cheek and smile at him.

“Here, let me show you how we elves accept a crown of flowers.” Their lips met in their first, and not nearly last, kiss.

#drabble #courting hc #headcanon #courting #i gotta polish this up later #glorfindel #fili #hair #legit shit

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obtusemedia · 3 years

Text

Top 25 songs of 2020: Honorable mentions

2020 was not a good year in many respects. But despite the world collapsing around us, there was a shocking amount of great new music.

Some of 2020′s best songs were a good fit for this terrifying year — we’ll get to those ones much, much later in the countdown. But 2020 also gave us gorgeous folk ballads, euphoric dance music and infectiously fun pop and hip-hop that had nothing to do with COVID-19 or any other awful aspects of the year.

Before we get to the proper list, here are 15 nearly-as-good songs that juuuust missed the cut, listed in alphabetical order by the artist’s name.

“Shimmy” by Aminé

Oregon’s most prominent rapper — okay, fine, Oregon’s only prominent rapper — came out of the gates blazing this year with “Shimmy.”

Aminé may have heavily sampled Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s classic “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” on his second album’s leadoff single, but he replaces ODB’s chaotic vibes with a cold, snarling precision. He almost evokes Pusha T in his gleeful takedown of his rivals over the ice-cold beat. Pair this banger with one of the year’s best music videos, and there’s no doubt it would sneak onto this list.

“Dakiti” by Bad Bunny and Jhay Cortez

I am all about this nocturnal, new wave-y style of reggaeton. The melody is catchy as hell, yet the production has a sinister, chilly vibe that wouldn’t sound out of place on an Italians Do It Better complication.

Megastar Bad Bunny’s husky vocals and Jhay Cortez’s more nasally voice make for a fun contrast as they trade verses. It’s a winning and charismatic combination!

“Boomer” by Bartees Strange

When you hear the phrase “rap-rock,” you’re likely shuddering at the thought of Limp Bizkit. But that style can work, as promising new artist Bartees Strange — stage name of D.C. alt-rocker Bartees Leon Cox — proves on “Boomer.”

Cox spices up a solid mall-punk banger with some rap verses. And unlike the Fred Dursts of the world, he can actually, you know, rap.

But it’s the song’s explosive chorus, where Cox unleashes his howling vocals over charging guitars, where “Boomer” goes from an interesting song to a great one. If there’s any justice, he’ll be rising up the indie ranks very soon.

“Kyoto” by Phoebe Bridgers

I think I might be the only music nerd who didn’t adore Phoebe Bridgers’ new album, Punisher. For me, her mix of hushed, mostly-sincere singer-songwriter ballads with snarky lyrics just came off as tonally awkward. Her quips about Scientology and outlet malls in otherwise-sad ballads left a sour note for me.

But Bridgers’ unique songwriting style shines most on the few uptempo songs on Punisher, particularly “Kyoto.” Her goofy non sequiturs fit much better in a driving, anthemic song. And I’m immediately primed to enjoy any tune with a strong resemblance to Sufjan Stevens’ “Chicago.”

“Dynamite” by BTS

I’m not sure what it says about me that I didn’t learn to love BTS, the insanely-beloved South Korean boy band, until they finally recorded a song in English.

It’s not that I dislike their earlier, Korean-language stuff — “Boy With Luv” in particular is a banger. And BTS’ English-language lyrics on “Dynamite” don’t really have any meaning (they’re basically just a bunch of random catchphrases jammed together ... but they do sound good).

But there’s something immediate and pristine about “Dynamite” that makes it impossible to not adore. It’s a little too cleanly produced to be on the level of the Bruno Mars hits BTS were clearly aping, but the sense of fun is infectious. At the very least, it’s on equal footing with Taio Cruz’s classic of the same name.

“Comeback” by Carly Rae Jepsen feat. Bleachers

Carly Rae Jepsen can knock out wistful synthpop nuggets like this in her sleep. So can Jack Antonoff, who produced the track and provides some backing vocals.

But just because this isn’t anything new for the duo doesn’t mean the winning formula’s gone stale. “Comeback” is a worthy addition to both of their catalogues.

“Hollywood” by Car Seat Headrest

I can’t, in good conscience, put this song in the top 25. It’s an intentionally abrasive misfire from the Seattle indie rockers, who’ve done much better. Complaining about the vapidness and sleaziness of Hollywood is an overplayed topic, and letting side members of the band rap some of the verses (in goofy voices, no less) was maybe not the best call.

...but at the same time, there’s something to this objectively bad song that I keep returning to. Maybe it’s the embarrassing bluntness of the lyrics. Maybe it’s the forceful guitar riff. Maybe it’s because the aggro, visceral nature of “Hollywood” makes it a perfect workout song. Maybe it’s the goodwill left over from Car Seat Headrest’s last two albums, which were both stone-cold indie rock classics. I’m not sure!

But even though I know it’s not a good enough song to make the proper list, I can’t lie to myself and leave it out of the honorable mentions. It’s a banger in spite of itself.

“24 Hours” by Georgia

"24 Hours” is the best possible version of a left-of-center synthpop club banger.

What makes it great — the pulsating energy, Georgia’s yearning vocals, the “whoo!” vocal samples — are obvious on immediate listen. But perhaps what makes “24 Hours” worthy of this list is its replay factor. It came out in January, and it still sounds great 11 months later.

“1985″ by Freddie Gibbs and The Alchemist (song starts at 1:35)

We already knew — thanks to his two collaborative albums with Madlib — that Freddie Gibbs’ gruff flow sounds incredible over dusty samples. So why not team up with another producer who does something similar?

“1985″ is a prime example of knowing one’s strengths. The Alchemist’s production is stunningly gorgeous in his typical style, with a soaring guitar solo and a shuffling, dreamy beat. Gibbs pounces on it with the same ferocious street-life verses he’s been spitting for years. I’m glad to see Gibbs has figured out exactly which production sounds best for him to make Tiger King jokes and tell coke-dealing stories.

“Say Something” by Kylie Minogue

Aussie icon Kylie Minogue has been at it for 33 years at this point, reminding us every decade or so exactly why she’s stuck around.

“Say Something” is one of those reminder tracks — a burbling, irresistible, futuristic-yet-retro disco banger. The production is stellar, from the clanging guitar riff to the bouncy synth bass, and Minogue has a winking confidence on the track like she’s been doing this for decades (which, of course, she has). It’s exactly what you want out of a bubblegum pop jam.

“Right Round The Clock” by Sorry

With their very-British boy-girl dueling vocals, new London indie rock outfit Sorry definitely have more of a whiff of The xx. But instead of hyper-minimalist, whispered tunes, “Right Round The Clock” has a thundering, droll swagger that grabs you by the throat when the chorus comes slamming in.

The thumping, piano-based sound of “Clock” has a bit of a jazzy flair, thanks to the flecks of sax that pop in here and there. And Sorry interpolates Tears For Fears’ classic “Mad World” in a gloriously tongue-in-cheek way on the chorus (at the very least, it’s far superior to that awful gloom-and-doom Donnie Darko cover).

“Brooklyn Bridge To Chorus” by The Strokes

In a year FILLED with improbable comebacks from ‘00s and ‘90s artists (we’ll get some of to them in the top 25!), The Strokes may have been the least likely. The early ‘00s indie rock standard-bearers had been in sharp decline for nearly 15 years before their new album, The New Abnormal, dropped and the group returned to form.

“Brooklyn Bridge To Chorus” is a prime example of The Strokes’ invigorating comeback. It’s a killer new-wave jam that could’ve been been written by The Cars, with its jittery keyboards and impossibly catchy chorus. And of course, The Strokes’ most valuable asset — lead singer Julian Casablancas’ impossibly cool vocals — is here in full force.

It’s not quite Is This It, but “Brooklyn Bridge To Chorus” is still The Strokes’ best song in 14 years.

“Spotlight” by Jessie Ware

After a career making increasingly dull ballads, “Spotlight,” and Ware’s new What’s Your Pleasure? album, is a refreshing change of pace into sleek dance-pop.

I don’t know if “classy” has ever been used to describe disco, but that’s the best way to describe “Spotlight.” It’s undoubtably a dancefloor filler, with a funky groove and ‘70s string stabs, but there’s also a stateliness to it. It could fit equally well at Studio 54 as it would at a black-tie affair. I credit Ware with that, using her breathy vocals and charisma to strong effect here.

“Lilacs” by Waxahatchee

Any time you can write a song that sounds like an outtake from Tom Petty’s Wildflowers, I’m on board.

That’s a bit of a reductive way to describe “Lilacs” — Katie Crutchfield’s vocals are much more fiery, for starters. But there’s something nostalgic and welcoming about this southern-fried folk-rock song with oblique lyrics and catchy hooks for days.

“Mood” by 24kGoldn feat. iann dior

Much of this new wave of emo-influenced rap isn’t really my thing. Maybe I’ve grown out of super-angsty and blunt songs about depression? Although I still love Smashing Pumpkins, so maybe that’s not the case. I can’t really answer why I don’t adore Juice WRLD or Lil Peep like so many others seem to.

But “Mood” — an unabashed sell-out, watered-down version of that sound – immediately clicked for me. I know 24kGoldn is trend-riding here, and that this is essentially a wildly shallow pop song. BUT! It’s a really catchy wildly shallow pop song! With bouncy pop-punk production that sounds like trap-ified Blink-182! (okay, it’s much better than that sounds, but you get the point)

I allow myself a guilty pleasure or two on my lists. “Mood” is one of those guilty pleasures this year. As the kids (presumably still?) say, it’s a vibe.

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glovesaved · 4 years

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( jack gilinsky , cis male , he / him, 22 ) no way ! i swear i saw 𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍 walking down danforth avenue ! i just saw a post about them on 6secrets ! i think it said something like “ 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ”. isn’t that wild ? i guess that makes sense since they’re apparently 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 and 𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆. fans will claim that they’re 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 and 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐓. i mean , it’s not like i know them personally — they’re a famous 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄 . whenever i think of them, i think of 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆, & 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 . i wish i would have asked for an autograph ! ( ollie, they / them, 22, est ).

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘:

— nolan’s childhood is fairly normal. born to middle class parents in calgary, skating and playing hockey from a young age. he never had to struggle much in his life, save for his parents’ separation when he was twelve, but even that ended well enough. he was always good at reading people, and though it stung at first, he understood.

— he started his hockey career as a forward, until one of his youth teams lacked a goalie when one of his teammates moved away and nolan volunteered himself to fill the spot. ever since that moment he was in love with the position.

— and the truth was though he was a good forward, he was an even better goalie. with reflexes like a cat, observational skills off the charts, he soon settled into net like he belonged there ( and soon, people were saying nothing else ).

— he was drafted to the everette silvertips in the whl when he was 16 where he continued to blossom and grow, setting franchise and league records including a shutout in his first career start and being named chl goalie of the year. and when his draft year in 2016 came, he was taken in the second round by the toronto maple leafs.

— he returned to everette for two more seasons. in 2017-18 collecting the accolades of whl player of the year, whl goalie of the year, and chl goalie of the year ( for the second time, being the first in chl to do so ). he finished with a 116-46-19 record, 2.01 GAA, 0.927 sv%, and 26 shutouts ( tied for most in chl history ).

— he started the next season with the toronto marlies, his next step in development. however, he was unexpectedly called up in december after one of the leafs goalies was placed on injured reserved. to his surprised, they decided to play him in the very next game which he won, becoming the youngest goaltender in over a decade to win his debut and the youngest in leafs history. he proceeded to record four straight wins before the age of 21, the first goalie to do so in over a decade. he was never sent back down to the marlies.

— the next season ( this past one ), saw him become the youngest in leafs history to record a shutout and slowly begin to claim his place as starter by march. he was pivotal in the leafs playoff run, though they were ultimately eliminated in the first round by boston to the surprise of no one.

— he spent much of the off-season in calgary with his family and doing off-season training there, though he recently returned in mid-august to prepare of the upcoming season.

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂:

— his role on the ice is incredibly high pressure no doubt, but he finds facing the toronto media far more intimidating. toronto is a city that cares very deeply for its team and though that is a good thing, it’s easy to feel stifled and under a microscope under all the scrutiny.

— has two gold ( 2015 18u, 2018 world juniors ) and two silver medals ( 2017 world juniors, 2019 worlds ), all for team canada

— “they see him, get lost in his beautiful eyes and forget how to play hockey.” since nolan has carter’s career claim, i’m claiming this conspiracy for him too ( basically, carter faced two fluke shoot out attempts : one where the player completely missed picking up that puck at center ice and another that lost it halfway to the net — both very very rare things to happen at the nhl level )

— jewish

— 6′2″. dark brown hair, light brown eyes. doesn’t smile an awful lot, but when he does and does genuinely you get the sense akin to the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

— i should put more here but honestly i’m figuring him out as i go

— oh that “mystery girl” in his headline is probs like a cousin or something aha

— should also mention he is bi on dl

— considered a bit of an enigma considering how little people know about him

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘:

— on the ice, nolan is the picture perfect image of focus, dark eyes and a look that could murder if anyone gets too close to him. and for a long time, who he was on the ice and who he was off it weren’t the same thing, but over time those lines began to blur and more and more he was dragging who he was on the ice off it too. the result was an increasingly withdrawn boy which only became worse when his prospect rankings began to rise and his looks only got more handsome. he retreated into the most familiar emotional armor he knew : the one he wore on the ice.

— he’s deeply private, hating to share much of his personal life though he does maintain an instagram on which he occasionally takes pleasure in posting cryptic photos just to confuse people.

— nolan is someone who requires a lot to get to him. he can keep a calm demeanor for an incredibly long time before he cracks, not surprising for someone who holds a position as stressful as his.

— despite his more withdrawn and quiet tendencies, he’s not exactly an asshole. he interacts with his fans courteously enough and doesn’t go out of his way to make anyone else’s life tougher. that being said, a lifetime in goal and as of late plenty of time off it has perfected a damn good death glare that he will use to keep people from talking to him if he has to.

— a man of few words, it’s rare to really get nolan chatty. only his closest friends and teammates succeed at this, otherwise small talk and frivolity often will result in silence. but nolan speaks plenty in actions, certainly someone who places a lot more value in a smile or kind gesture than any verbal expression.

— he’s not nearly as tough as his cagey eyes and stoic exterior would suggest, at heart perhaps a lonely boy who’s thrown up so many walls that he finds it difficult to truly connect with anyone.

𝐎𝐎𝐂:

hello friends... anyone remember noah from six 1.0 ?? well, i basically just made another goalie with carter ha/rt’s career claim 😔😔😔. anyway, i still hate the leafs and i hope six-verse leafs have a better defense than irl leafs, if not then my boy truly has the patience of a saint.

#sixhqintro #this is so bad i'm sorry #the best thing abt this intro #is definitely the header #and that's only bc jack is looking real softe in that photo #and if i called him jason at any point in thsi intro....#pls looke the other way thanks

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cssnei · 4 years

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{ @chasiingrain ❤️’d for a starter! (KoG Verse) }

The desireable affection that her brother had for one woman was something that the young handmaiden did not expect to see ever in her life. The General, the Legendary Knight was always someone so stoic and prideful that never once did she think that he’d lower it enough to give way to his true self, the caring man that she knew he could be. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so unamused by his venting and gossipping, perhaps she should be more grateful that someone other than family or close friends actually turned Sephiroth... Human.

It was time however to fnally pay this Actress a visit. Tailing her little brother on one of his escapades with the woman he spoke so highly of, she wore her part of her assassin attire, leather gloves and wristguards as well as a sleeveless piece just so she could use the rooftops to her advantage.

How adorable they were. It warmed her heart to see.

Like a hawk from above, she continued watching all the way until Jessie departed. Was that a kiss to the hand that she saw the General give her? How incredibly droll. She could read Jessie like a book, those expressions no matter how sweet they may have seemed... Looked half-hearted. She knew this act well, acting was a powerful tool for an assassin like her. With an eyeroll, she soon followed after the strange woman, eventually coming to a stop ahead of her by a fence with a certain confidence on her face.

“I must commend you for your acting skills, you have my older brother played like a fiddle. It’s nice to finally make your acquaintence, Lady Rasberry.” Her voice was playful, almost teasing as auburn eyes scanned the Actress intently. “I’m not sure if my dear older brother has told you anything about yours truly, but you can call me Cissnei. Daughter of The Executioner, royal handmaiden for Rufus Shinra and the court.”

#✫ (Shuriken Online: IC) ✫#✫ (The Unseen Blade is the deadliest: The Shadow--Kingdoms of Gaia AU) ✫#chasiingrain (Jessie Rasberry)#//I HOPE THIS IS OKAY #//Using the plot we spoke about before of cissnei tailing jessie after one of her dates

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megadara999 · 4 years

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The Crimson Gala - Chapter 3: No Hard Feelings?

I’d very much appreciate it if you head on over to AO3 to read my stories, but you don’t have to. They’re just much more up to date and better formatted there. You can also leave comments which I love to read. Click here to be taken to the AO3 page.

This chapter jumps between past and present via little ~~~~~ ____________________

The scent of blood was in the air. As enticing as it was Charlie had her sights set on a bigger prize than just a meal. She planned to take care of the current king. Vampire culture was much more different to humans; they lived, ate, felt and governed differently. One vampire governed all, Dracula. But only a select few ever heard from him. He was a myth, a legend, the idol of their people. It took hard work to be noticed, even harder work to gain an audience with him. Maxwell stood in her way. He was a good little lap-dog, doing everything he was told. They had been friends once, but that was almost a thousand years ago. It started with friendly intention, growing into something more and then...

~~~~~

The night was frigid, snow whirling like a ravenous swarm of insects. Charlotte could feel it through her layers of clothing. The box in her arms was beginning to weigh her down. “May I help you ma’am?” She turned to see a taller man with rounded glasses holding his arms out toward her.

“O-oh. I’m almost where I need to be. Could you perhaps open the door for me?”

“Of course. Maybe you’ll invite me in for a meal too?”

“Depends how you act mister.” He laughed and folded his arms behind his back.

“Of course.” The pair soon arrived at the tavern, the man holding the door open for her. As she walked in the door warmth greeted her, making her sigh in relief.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Come inside, I’ll be sure to make get you a small something as a thank you.”

“You’re far too kind.” They stepped in and headed towards a front desk.

“Just tell them Charlie sent you for helping me. The chef will take care of things.”

“Thank you again.” She beamed and headed into the back area, away from the customers.

“Charlie! I was beginning to think you got lost in the storm!” A larger woman came her way, bringing Charlotte's smaller form into her arms. It brought a smile to Charlotte’s face and a chuckle from her throat.

“You and me both Winona, I honestly can’t believe how fierce the weather is already.”

“Not your typical November that’s for sure! Here, let me take those off your hands.” Winona took the crate from her younger sister, carrying it for her. Charlotte followed, glancing at the crowd for the night.

“It’s quite busy tonight.”

“I blame the cold. Brings in all the travellers. Good for business though!” Charlotte couldn’t help but smile in her sister’s presence, she was so much more independent and charming than her. Winona felt the exact same way about her sister however, grinning more than she had in the two days she was gone. The duo went to a workshop located at the back of the complex; the whinnying of horses coming from the stables outside. “I’m sorry to have sent you out there Charlie.”

“I told you before I left that I wanted to go! Stop apologising!”

“I know, I know! I just... I’ve not made you go on your own before. Then this damn snowstorm hits us? I should have gone.” Rolling her eyes, Charlotte headed towards the stairs that lead to her bedroom.

“I took care of myself! Besides, I got your supplies and you didn’t have to stop working. Now we’ll hopefully be able to put that little bit of extra cash towards the extension!” Winona chuckles and messily ruffles her sister’s hair before she can abscond up the staircase.

“You deserve it Charlie. Really.” She could only blush and squirm out of her sister’s grasp.

“Thanks Winona. I’m going to get changed into my attire for tonight’s little performance. I’ll come tell you about my trip after.”

“Alright. I expect to hear all the details.”

The sisters were part of the staff for an establishment called ‘Feathers and Iron’. It was a place owned by a lumberjack and his wife, but they had all become one big family. The tavern wasn’t only a place to spend the night or have a drink; it was also a place to fortify yourself. There were plenty of beasts one had to be weary of. From goblins to dire wolves, vandals to vampires. Winona was a skilled blacksmith and her craft had kept the tavern safe from attack for two years now; that and Wolfgang. He was a skilled fighter, the guardian of the town. Their little town was a safe-haven for weary travellers and families alike. The tavern was a popular spot for all kinds of people for miles.

The extension was going to be a workshop for Charlotte; a place she could practice her own craft. While Winona was fantastic with some metal and hot coals, Charlotte preferred plants and books. She hoped to become well-versed in witchcraft and perhaps even become the local apothecary. Feathers and Iron would become a key location on anyone’s map; a place to stock up on supplies and a good night’s rest.

Charlotte’s primary drive right now was entertainment. It was a way for her to practice her spells and lighten the hearts of all those who stayed the night. Every other day she would stand up on stage, looking over the visitors as they drank and ate. A few words and fire appeared out of thin air, earning a pleased gasp from all those watching.

Magic wasn’t common, at least not in humans. There were a few who were able to teach themselves and even less who were gifted with it. Charlotte was one of the lucky ones, a gift passed down through the generations, allowing her to learn without the rigorous academics usually associated with those who desired magical abilities. It warmed her heart to see people smile as she practised making rings of fire, shards of ice, crackles of electricity, turning a seed into a sprout within seconds. Occasionally another wizard or witch would approach her after and they would talk and learn from one another. She loved it when children were in the audience however, she would pour all her energy into making them smile. At the end of her performance she would thank everyone for coming to the Feathers and Iron. It was more than enough to make her happy.

Charlotte found herself lost in thought as someone tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped, turning to them. The man in rounded glasses from earlier stood behind her, a warm smile on his face.

“Sorry to disturb you ma’am but I wanted to complement your performance tonight.” A flush of heat came to her cheeks.

“Thank you, sir. Can I offer you a seat?” She gestured to the chair on the other side of the table. The man gave his thanks and sat down, glancing over the books she had on the table.

“Are you self-taught?”

“Yes. I am.”

“That’s quite spectacular. Not many people can do that.”

“It’s a gift. I’m lucky is all.”

“And I’m lucky to have been in this establishment and see you perform.” The heat deepened, causing her to fidget with her hair. “Might I ask your name?”

“It’s Charlotte. It’s a pleasure to meet you-” She cocked an eyebrow with a smile.

“William.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you William.”

~~~~~

Where was he? The wind whistled past as she soared overhead, looking for Maxwell in the light of the full-moon. Her eyes fell upon him, he had someone against a wall, wings folded, claws deep in their flesh. He was exposed, preoccupied feeding. Excellent. Her plan was simple, drug him and let him die as the morning sun rose.

No foul-play, merely a tragic accident.

Her magic no longer worked; it faded along with her blood many centuries ago. Her knowledge however... A concoction composed of rare ingredients that had the ability to trap a vampire in one of its transformations. If she administered it now, her plan wouldn’t work. No. He needed to change into something smaller; more manageable. She needed him to take his bat form, something small enough wrap her fingers around. Charlie landed next to him, dusting herself of imperfections.

“Excuse me Maxy, I had my eye on that one.” He pulled away, chuckling.

“Well I’m afraid I got to them first, I may be willing to perhaps share.”

“Such a generous King~” She gave a laugh, sauntering closer to him, eyes half-laden. Arrogant idiot. ‘King’. Most of the ruling vampires didn’t pick something so absurdly egotistical. A count, lord or governor were common. But no. He had to be a king. “It’s been a while since I last talked to you one on one. We had a short one at the last gala meeting. What was that… fifty years ago? How lucky, that you and Countess Wickerbottom were chosen to host this year’s gala together.”

"I was hoping we would get a chance to speak in private actually."

"You and me both Maxy."

~~~~~

She had been waiting for William in the cold air for quite some time now. Where was he? He said to meet her here at eight, so her she was on the dot. Maybe she was too zealous…

“Charlie! I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting!” The taller man hurried over, a thick coat of what seemed to be wolf fur.

“I was just about to go blue! What took you so long?”

“I had to ensure I wasn’t followed.”

“Such a mysterious man~” She smirked at him, the gesture usually getting a smile in response. Not this time. “What’s wrong Wil?” He seemed solemn. That couldn’t be good. With a sigh he looked over his shoulder before turning his gaze to her own.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you Charlie. I need to tell you something, but you must promise not to tell another soul.” A feeling of dread began to fill the air between them.

“Of course, Wil. I won’t tell anyone.” Charlotte had her suspicions about what this was about. There were little things about him that made her think. The way she never saw him eat in front of her, swearing he had sharp teeth, only appearing in the later hours of the day. She didn’t want to believe it though; didn’t want to believe he could be one of them.

“For starters Charlotte... My name is Maxwell, not William.” He took her hands in his, running his thumbs over her knuckles. “And I’m not human. Not anymore.” Charlotte let out a sigh, looking into his eyes.

“I was afraid you were going to say that. Please tell me you’re not a...” Her voice trailed off, not wanting to say it.

“Vampire? Yes. I’m sorry.” Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to fall against his chest, he in turn wrapped his arms around her.

“Damn it William... You shouldn’t be here... Wolfgang will kill you if he finds out.”

“I know. That’s why I felt I needed to tell you. You’re my confidant Charlie.” His hand lifted her cheek. She opened her eyes, once again looking into his. “I trust you.”

“I trust you too... It’ll be our little secret. I promise.”

“There’s a good girl.” He gave a smile, leaning closer. “I don’t want this to change things between us.”

“It won’t. Do you prefer Maxwell or William?”

“Maxwell. But keep using William for now, I don’t want you accidentally saying Maxwell.”

“Alright. William it is.”

“I have something to ask of you... It’s a big favour...”

“What?”

“I haven’t fed in days. I’ve been too worried about getting caught. Normally I would drift from town to town but I didn’t want to leave because you’re here. I don’t expect you to say yes...”The action in question didn't need to be mentioned, it was fairly clear what he wanted.

“You want to... feed... from me?” He was silent for a moment, but silence can speak volumes. She hesitated a moment before opening the top of her coat, pulling the collar of her dress away to expose her neck.

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know honestly but I want to help. So... maybe hurry before I change my mind.” With a nod he moved closer, pushing on her clothing to expose lower. Charlotte flinched as he pierced the skin near her collarbone, but a gentle hand on her cheek kept her focus. It didn’t take long for him to pull away and place his hand over the wound.

“Thank you Charlie.”

“It’s nothing... really... You’re not a monster... You don’t deserve to be treated like one...” He gave another smile, keeping her close.

“I didn’t think I could be in love with a mortal.” Heat rushed to her cheeks, a smile tugging at her lips.

“I... I’m flattered William.” He closed the gap between them, pressing his lips against hers. Charlotte was taken back at first but soon wrapped her arms around him, returning the gesture. She didn’t see why they couldn’t be happy together. She was absolutely taken by his charm and manners, he seemed genuine. She’d see how things went...

Maxwell couldn’t believe how sweet she tasted. It was true, magic mortals did taste better. She was a delicacy, a rare delight. He was lucky to have her all to himself, he just had to regulate how often he fed and keep her interested in sweet little William. He couldn't allow him to grow more attached than he already had...

~~~~~

Maxwell gave Charlie a smile, moving to the side. “Perhaps we can chat over a meal?” The prey’s arm weakly twitched as Charlie approached, placing her hands on their shoulder.

“I’d love to.” The apprentice ran her tongue over the wounds Maxwell had left on its neck, maintaining eye contact with him.

“I see Wicker is teaching you well.”

“What can I say, I’ve always been gifted.” He chuckled, cocking an eyebrow at her.

“Indeed you have Charlie.” The pair feed upon the increasingly limp prey. She decided to make her move, taking the concoction in her mouth as she turned her head away from him, mixing it with the prey’s blood. She then made quick work, manipulating her body language and meeting his eyes, allowing her hand to slip on top of his, faces moving closer. The prey fell, forgotten, unneeded. It was easy to get the first kiss started, exchanging the fluid in her mouth for his tongue as she clung to him. Seems he was just as lustful as ever.

Maxwell pulled away, suspicious of her activity. The last time they had been alone was under... unpleasant circumstances on her side. “What are you attempting to gain out of this Charlie?” She slipped her hand from his shoulder to his chest.

“Nothing Maxy. I’ve waited a thousand years to finally see you again. I missed you.”

“You’ve had centuries to approach me.”

“I had no idea whether you’ve been dead or alive. For all I know you were killed by hunters. I’ve only been an apprentice for a handful of centuries. Only now am I allowed to participate in gala arrangements!” He was still weary, but couldn’t deny his fondness for her. She was the most attractive human he’d come across in his time on Earth. A combination of body, personality, taste and gumption had drawn him in. He was distraught when he couldn’t stay with her; alas he didn’t have the authority to turn her and wished to continue rising in the ranks. He had to let her go.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“I’ve had centuries to get over it, I’ve moved on. Well.. Not entirely... I can’t forget the magical time we spent together before you left.”

“Why not at the gala meeting? Why now?”

“I didn’t know how to feel at first Maxy. Now I do.” She pressed their bodies together, letting her wings rest on his waist. “Come with me. Let’s leave the hunt to the rest of your faction. I would much rather speak to you in private. We can catch up.”

“Can it not wait until after my dear?”

“Women are fickle Maxy~ I might change my mind~ Lets sneak away while whimsy is still in the air!~” She shrunk, down allowing her wings and fur to consume her form. Within moments she was a fraction of her size, beating her wings hard to keep elevated. Making her way towards the sky she checked to ensure he was following her. A feeling of pure ecstasy flooded her system as another bat approached her, Maxwell no longer standing below. This was it! Centuries of planning, locating, experimenting and waiting, all coming together on this absolutely gorgeous night.

~~~~~

He couldn’t bring himself to do it, to tell her he had to move on. He’d grown closer to her as they spent more time together. It was just a feeding thing at first, but Maxwell soon found himself feeling for the mortal woman. It would be easier for her just to fear him. So... he did what he had to.

A spring storm had come through, thunder rumbling loudly throughout the night. Maxwell made his way through the building from Charlie’s room. The strongman was his biggest threat, so it was only natural he would be the one to turn. His snores could be heard from the hall, rivalling the thunder outside. He would have to be quick or the man would alert the others before turning. Maxwell bit into the man’s neck, causing him to jolt awake. There was a shout, silenced by leathery wings in his mouth. Crimson splattered onto the bed, a fist connecting with the side of Maxwell’s head. The dazed vampire dodged another oncoming attack, lightning highlighting the terror in the mortal’s eyes. He lunged again, the larger man hitting the ground with a heavy thump. Maxwell did his best to drain some blood, making room for his own and weakening the man’s retaliation. Taking his own hand, Maxwell ran it along his fangs, a deep wound across the palm. He then pressed his would against the mortal’s mouth, forcing it down their throat. After a few moments the struggle was over and the transformation started. Maxwell allowed his wings to fold neatly behind him as the man convulsed, fur and leather covering his one human form. The ghoul rose from the ground, a beastly face in its wake. “You’re to scare Charlotte. Not harm her. Do you understand?” The beast snarled.

“Others”

“Expendable.”

Charlotte awake to the sound of screaming; she looked for William. He was gone. There’s no way he would... She threw off the sheets, forming a small flame in her hand to see. “William?!” Stepping out into the hall she hesitated, there was noise coming from the visitor’s wing. (Horrible, horrible noise.) Winona suddenly burst from her room across from hers, panic in her eyes.

“Stay here Charlie. I’ll find out what’s going on.” She ran down the hall, a blade in hand. No way she was letting Winona go by herself! Charlotte ran after her sister, only coming to a stop when they reached the rooms. A hulking beast stood in the hallway, its figure hardly standing straight, wings half-folded. It turned to face them, bat-faced, blood dripping from its maw. Half a torso lay on the ground...

Winona was frozen, trying to assess her odds. She needed help; this wasn’t something she could take on her own. How did one of the turned get into city limits? They had knights for this reason! It screeched at them, causing Charlotte to cover her ears, the small flame going out. Winona pushed her sister back without thinking, heading back the way they came. The ghoul thundered right behind them, heavy footsteps falling closer and closer. It screamed as something collided with its back. A moment to think. “Charlotte! There's a silver spear in the workshop. I want you to get it, lock the doors and stay put. Do you hear me?”

“I’m not going to leave you here! I can help!”

“Charlie!”

“Winona!” There was determination in her little sister’s eyes. She would rather die than see her sister hurt but she was right. She was gifted. Maybe they could at least scare it off. Winona turned to see the owner of the establishment brandishing an axe against the ghoul in the dining room. Now or never she supposed. With a nod they headed back towards the beast. Winona drove her short sword into its thigh, its hand swinging around and winding her. Turning, it bared its teeth. Charlotte pushed the air in front of her, small shards of ice flying forward and embedding into its torso. As it turned to her the owner, Woodie, hacked at it with his axe again. An ear-piercing screech sounded out, the creature outstretching its wings. Charlotte launched another volley of ice at it, this time the shards blown out of their trajectory by a beat of its wings. Winona dove for her sword, pulling it out of the creature’s leg and this time slashing the blade at it. The leathery wings came up, a large hole appearing in the webbing, beast unphased. Its hand swung around, grabbing Winona by the arm and throwing her into Woodie. Fire. They needed fire. Focusing Charlotte summoned a volley of flames this time, casting it at the beast.

“You cannot defeat the mighty Wolfgang!” Again, its wings came up and took the damage for him. Charlotte couldn’t believe her ears. Did it just say Wolfgang? Their Wolfgang?

Suddenly Winona was grabbing Charlotte and pulling her to the door, Woodie screaming at the creature. Once in the street Winona looked to the sky, then she continued pulling her sister towards the barracks.

“Winona! We can’t run! Woodie is in there!”

“Charlie! We’re not going to fight him! We’re going to let the knights do their job!”

“But Wolfgang-”

“But nothing Charlie! Wolfgang is gone! Do you know what’s happened here?! Your damn naivety did!”

“Hey!”

“No! I told you that guy was bad news! You can’t trust vampires!”

“You don’t know it was him!”

“I should have just said no. Told you, you can’t see him. This is my own damn fault.”

“We can find him and ask him if he did it!”

“Who else would have Charlie?! What other vampire have we invited into our lives?!”

“H-he wouldn’t have.”

“He’s a vampire! You’re lucky you’re not dead! You let him bite you!”

“He didn’t want to hurt anyone!”

“Look at what he’s done!”

“It wasn’t him!” A whistle sounded out, the sisters both turning their attention to its source. William stood on the roof of the tavern, pointing at them. Wolfgang burst through the door, wood splintering under the pressure. Dark red streamed from wounds all over his body, he glanced at his master and then to the sisters. The hulking beast ran at them, Winona grabbed her sister, pulling her away yet again. “WILLIAM!” Tears formed in her eyes. He couldn’t have. She trusted him.

Winona’s leg came out from underneath her, causing the sisters both to topple over. Charlotte could only watch as Wolfgang dragged her sister towards him by her leg, plunging their teeth into her waist. Winona screamed and so did Charlotte. It shook its head violently, as a wolf would do to tear flesh from bone. The younger sister stood, running at the beast and muttering an enchantment, a ball of fire hitting it in the face. Her dress tore as she skidded to a halt on her knees, muttering another spell. This time thick vines erupted from the earth to surround them. Wolfgang wailed, pounding on the roots. Blood soaked into Charlotte’s clothing as she scooped her sister up in her arms, deep teeth marks streaked across her side.

“I... I’m sorry for yelling at you Charlie.”

“No, no. You were right. I was stupid.”

“Nah... you’re... you’re the clever one out of us.” Winona hissed in pain, breathing becoming more and more laboured.

“Hang on Winona. I... I’ll fix you up... okay? Just hold on.” There was a scream from somewhere in the street, moments later the church bell could be heard. Maxwell took this as his cue to leave; that was more than enough to ensure Charlie would never seek him again. “The knights are coming Winona. You’re going to be okay.”

“Don’t put these vines down... until... until you know... its dead.” Wolfgang’s claws were beginning to tear through the roots as a crossbow bolt hit him in the shoulder. He let out a screech and beat his wings, unable to lift himself off the ground as the membranes were littered with tears. Another bolt tore through the air, impacting on the ghoul's chest. Charlotte clung to her sister, putting her hand over the wound, muttering a spell to cauterise the bite marks. She could hear the scuffle outside their little nest, the rattle of knight armour, the cries of their former friend. It didn’t take too long before the sounds stopped and someone told her it was okay to lower the vines. Her legs were too shaky to stand. Exhausted and in shock she cried out to the knights to get the town healer. Winona put her arm around her younger sister, telling her how much she loved her. Charlotte told her to tell her once she was better, to hang on just a little longer.

She didn’t survive to see the sunrise.

#megadara999 writes #AO3 #ds #vampire wilson #Vampire AU #Don't Starve #dont starve #Wilson #Willow #Maxwell #Charlie #Most of the cast is here #TheCG #Chapter 3

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barxlupin · 2 years

Text

IC / OOC / General Tags

BEING ALONE DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO BE LONELY [MUSINGS]

I WAS TAUGHT TO WATCH; TO LISTEN; AND TO FIGHT [HEADCANONS]

A FINDER OF LOST SOULS [VISAGE]

THESE KIND OF MYSTERIES ARE ALWAYS THE MOST SATISFYING TO UNPICK [AESTHETICS]

FROM ME TO YOU; THIS IS MY DYING WISH [PLAYLIST]

PERHAPS IT'S THE WORLD THAT NEEDS CHANGING [PSA]

NOW WHERE TO BEGIN? [MEMES & PROMPTS]

DON'T BE THROWN OFF BY OTHER PEOPLE [GALLERY]

WE ARE FREE TO DO ANYTHING AND BE ANYONE [SELF PROMO]

LOOK FOR WHAT'S THERE; NOT WHAT YOU WANT TO BE THERE [PROMO]

YOU'RE A NINCOMPOOP [IC]

I HAVE MY OWN COMPANY [OOC]

IF YOU WANT TO BE HEARD YOU HAVE TO MAKE SOME NOISE [ANSWER]

YOU'LL SEE THE TRUTH SOON ENOUGH [REPLY]

IT'S TIME TO RIGHT SOME WRONGS [CLOSED STARTER]

THERE WILL COME A TIME WHEN YOU HAVE TO MAKE A HARD CHOICE [OPEN STARTER]

SOMETIME YOU MUST DANGLE YOUR FEET IN THE WATER TO ATTRACT THE SHARKS [PLOTTING/SHIPPING CALL]

TRY TO BE EXCITED; NOT DISAPPOINTED; AT THE POSSIBILITIES OF SOMETHING NEW [INBOX/STARTER CALL]

PRIVACY IS THE HIGHEST VIRTUE AND THE ONE MOST FREQUENTLY VIOLATED [DASH COMMENTARY]

DON'T DO IT BECAUSE YOU'RE LOOKING FOR SOMEONE; DO IT BECAUSE YOU'RE LOOKING FOR YOURSELF [DASH GAMES]

PAINT YOUR OWN PICTURES [MUN'S EDITS]

IT'S ALWAYS THERE; JUST LOOK FOR IT [SAVED]

I HOPE THAT THE KIND READER RECOGNISES THIS AS A DESPAIRING ATTEMPT AT HUMOR [CRACK]

VERSE: THE GAME IS AFOOT [MAIN]

VERSE: THE FUTURE IS UP TO US [POST TIMESKIP]

VERSE: THE ENOLA HOLMES MYSTERIES [BSD AU]

#BEING ALONE DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO BE LONELY [MUSINGS]#I WAS TAUGHT TO WATCH; TO LISTEN; AND TO FIGHT [HEADCANONS]#A FINDER OF LOST SOULS [VISAGE]#THESE KIND OF MYSTERIES ARE ALWAYS THE MOST SATISFYING TO UNPICK [AESTHETICS]#PERHAPS IT'S THE WORLD THAT NEEDS CHANGING [PSA]#DON'T BE THROWN OFF BY OTHER PEOPLE [GALLERY]#WE ARE FREE TO DO ANYTHING AND BE ANYONE [SELF PROMO]#LOOK FOR WHAT'S THERE; NOT WHAT YOU WANT TO BE THERE [PROMO]#NOW WHERE TO BEGIN? [IC]#I HAVE MY OWN COMPANY [OOC]#IF YOU WANT TO BE HEARD YOU HAVE TO MAKE SOME NOISE [ANSWER]#YOU'LL SEE THE TRUTH SOON ENOUGH [REPLY]#IT'S TIME TO RIGHT SOME WRONGS [CLOSED STARTER]#THERE WILL COME A TIME WHEN YOU HAVE TO MAKE A HARD CHOICE [OPEN STARTER]#SOMETIME YOU MUST DANGLE YOUR FEET IN THE WATER TO ATTRACT THE SHARKS [PLOTTING/SHIPPING CALL]#TRY TO BE EXCITED; NOT DISAPPOINTED; AT THE POSSIBILITIES OF SOMETHING NEW [INBOX/STARTER CALL]#PRIVACY IS THE HIGHEST VIRTUE AND THE ONE MOST FREQUENTLY VIOLATED [DASH COMMENTARY]#DON'T DO IT BECAUSE YOU'RE LOOKING FOR SOMEONE; DO IT BECAUSE YOU'RE LOOKING FOR YOURSELF [DASH GAMES]#PAINT YOUR OWN PICTURES [MUN'S EDITS]#IT'S ALWAYS THERE; JUST LOOK FOR IT [SAVED]#I HOPE THAT THE KIND READER RECOGNISES THIS AS A DESPAIRING ATTEMPT AT HUMOR [CRACK]#VERSE: THE GAME IS AFOOT [MAIN]#VERSE: THE FUTURE IS UP TO US [POST TIMESKIP]#VERSE: THE ENOLA HOLMES MYSTERIES [BSD AU]#NOW WHERE TO BEGIN? [MEMES & PROMPTS]#YOU'RE A NINCOMPOOP [IC]#FROM ME TO YOU; THIS IS MY DYING WISH [PLAYLIST]

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lachalaine · 5 years

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Fairy Tail Verse // Dark Guild Tenebris Caligo

It’s an encounter she doesn’t mean to happen.

It’s a mistake she doesn’t mean to make.

But sometimes fate works in only the worst of ways. And she was one of its casualties.

----- she meets him at age eighteen

In a den.

A bandits den, to be more precise. One of her more regular odd jobs, taken from a local town that had been... less then receptive to her initial presence. A casualty of a rumor that’d been going around since a few weeks prior, when she’d gotten caught up in another ‘incident’. A job gone wrong, the large mass of another forest being scorched away, with her as the only culprit.

Technically, they weren’t wrong. She was the main miscreant in that little debacle, though it’d been for a good reason. The thugs had been harder to wrangle this time, and things had gotten quickly out of hand as their magic quickly doubled up with her own. An accumulation of an alchemical fusion that’d torched even a good half of the nearby city district, earning her the ire of one too many city officials, and then some. Enough to put her on a watch list. Enough to make the Magic Council’s Rune Knights take notice.

Enough to piss off one very angry General.

She is warned. Once. And then sent away.

It is not her first encounter with them.

A string of mistakes only fans the flames, and yet she somehow manages to escape, after paying her dues, after fixing the mostly inconsequential damage she’s wrought. Her work to the few locals who defend her is more invaluable in action then it is in prison, so they say, and so she is pardoned. Once, twice, three and four times.

But there is a limit.

One that she doesn’t quite yet hit exactly, when the next she travels to another town further in the north - where she is... rejected, so to speak. Treated coldly, almost unfairly you could say, as the news of her exploits create a rumor so severe that the people grow wary of her. A walking time bomb, as they hear, with the potential to turn the whole town into nothing but a charred memory.

They are not wrong. But they aren’t necessarily right either.

Regardless, they send her on her way, without allowing her to stock up on supplies.

She is traipsing through the mud come exactly an hour later, through cold and humid rain of which she has no cover from.

It is perhaps... only the beginning.

Somehow, with every town that she comes upon next, and as her stock of supplies gets lower and lower - the rumor evolves. From walking time bomb to demon, to ravager and demolisher. There is much to be said for a girl who wanders and ruins and wrecks. There is much more to be said when they see her familiars at her side, beasts made of fire and fury with eyes gleaming crimson red; no matter that they do not attack ---- regardless, there is much to be said.

( it helps of course, that such townsfolk would only listen to an aggravated General, irritated by the errant young woman who constantly slips through his laws, listening to a man who must, must, must have only their best interests in order --

it helps, truly. )

They will not give her shelter. They will not give her supplies. They will not give her jobs. And it is when she reaches her fifth town, after having walked miles over the span of a month, on her absolute last leg and just wanting - please, please, please - just one night in a warm inn, just one night with warm food, just one night of rest ----

That she is turned away again.

Jackie remains in her tent on the outskirts that evening, shivering through the cold and holding her familiars against her chest, yet not even their heated touch could aid the sustained cold that’d appeared to have settled beneath her skin.

It is not enough.

She stays for only three days, as far from the town as possible and wracked by delirium with a fever that nearly refuses to settle, and yet her continued presence ( no matter how solitary ) sets the townsfolk on edge. The fever breaks only on the morning of the third day, as her illness having been assisted by her spirits, she is awakened back to radiant sunshine after weeks and weeks of insistent rain.

She is greeted at her tent by the Mayor of the town.

A rough and skeevy old man, that provides her with a job. Fairly difficult, and with very little compensation, but should she accept, they would allow her to purchase what she would need and grant her that one night at the inn, provided she take care of a mass of bandits for them.

A mass of bandits, that they know, would far outweigh the strength of one teenage girl.

Kill two birds with one stone, right?

In her desperation ( for warmth and acceptance and just one chance to make things right ) --- she accepts.

---- she never cashes in on her reward from that job.

Because perhaps they were right. Maybe she was a walking time bomb. An eruption waiting to happen. An inferno meant to turn any plot of land as far as the eyes can see into a desolate wasteland.

Maybe they were right. Because regardless of their intentions for her, regardless of their expectations on the potentials of what could a sick girl possibly do?? --- she succeeds. But at a terrible cost.

Because there in that bandits den, is where she meets the one man that would ruin her life. That would change her. That would make everything just so, so much Worse.

Garry.

It is there that her future dies. And it is there when she helps him, a stranger, a prisoner held captive, a man she’d only meant to help escape, that he turns around and subsequently provides her with a dead end herself.

She’d been meant to bring the bandits back alive.

Instead, they are all dead. And not a single one of them by her hand.

She had controlled the inferno, but only just. But that’s not what the witnesses see. They see puddles of blood and the flicker of a shadow drenched in black. They see pillars of flame and a lone woman standing right in the midst of it.

They see the fires quickly settling outwards and towards the town, because the damn girl couldn’t get her sudden shock in order.

The Magic Council is there - that bastard General is there - before she can get a handle on damage control.

And it is the most damage she has ever caused. The wreckage to the surrounding forest is too great, and with her fluctuating emotions getting out of hand and with the string of bodies left in her wake ( there are other prisoners, other innocents, he’d left no one spared ), it is the last straw.

They order her to stand down. And before she can --- before she can even wrap her head around anything, enough to even think to do it ---

A flicker.

And she is gone.

She is stolen away, literally. By Garry.

And to the Rune Knights, such thievery of her very being can only amount to one thing --

A fugitive on the run.

--- but he does not let her go. For despite her anger and despite her rage when she comes back to herself, she is weak. Tired. Exhausted. Unable to even stand as the backlash of her illness quickly catches up to her, and as he carries her to safety, he tells her he’ll take care of her, just like she took care of him. Just like she’d saved him. He’ll keep her warm and safe and everything will be okay.

She’ll never have to worry about the cold again.

When she wakes up, hours and hours and even just a few days later -- she is underground. Tucked into a warm bed, and with warm food greeting her at her bedside. The girl is kept safe, and kept clothed, and taken very well care of.

And he is there, greeting her with a smile.

It is her first sense of genuine warmth felt in weeks, and she is weak to it. To him. Even if she hates it.

Because he is a murderer, but he is warm and gentle and takes care of her. He appreciates her, even if he understands her rage.

Yet he kisses her, just once, and somehow it fades.

She is a stupid girl that day. A stupid, and most hopeless girl -- angry and frustrated and on the cusp of young love ---

And he would keep her

s a f e .

( such lies are so easily spun, when you find a girl who wants to hear it said )

And at least with him, he’d whispered, as hands laced with her own tugged her through the darkened corridors, towards the others she would soon call comrades

She would never need to control herself, ever.

‘ You could burn anything. Anyone. You could reach your potential with us. ‘

Because she was meant for something --- more.

Right?

Right. But of course.

No one else would ever understand.

But he would. He’d promise her that. Always.

He s w o r e .

He l i e s.

Tenebris Caligo takes her in, and she becomes everything those rumors told her to be. Devastator. Ruiner. Monster. The resident fire starter, the resident ticking time bomb. She is the loose canon and the terror, the one woman army that can and will unleash hellfire on the world if she so much as wishes for it.

She makes him so proud. And in such pride, and in such infatuation and in such falsities of love ---

she loses herself.

...

( and yet maybe not. )

For even in her wildest rage, for even as her fire burns burns burns ( to the endless heartache of her spirits, to who she would not listen ), there remains perhaps within her ---

A glimpse of rationality. Of humanity.

Of ---

Jackie.

Somehow, by some luck, she retains herself. But only just enough.

Garry’s hold on her isn’t all that steady.

For in the months that follow, there are deaths by her hand, undoubtedly. Gruesome deaths, wrought on those of men that were cruel, of who’d stepped too far out of line for the guilds liking, even though they should have known otherwise. Their guilds reign is of terror, the whispers of them are of horror. They are monsters and thieves and pillagers that the Magic Council cannot restrain, too intelligent and too strong to keep contained, and so they continue. For months, for a year, for almost two.

And then in the midst of those screams, there comes -- an utterance, ushered so terribly softly that not even her comrades could ever hope to hear them.

For there is a savior --- in one.

They do not know of which one, only that that they would come quietly. In the night, and when the prisoners are left for dead. The innocents would be set free, cared for and ushered on their way, before their supposed ‘carcasses’ were disposed of by other means. It feels like a fairy tale, almost, but there are those who would swear by such mercy, men and women and children. They would swear on their hopes and lives on it.

The savior is real, but they cannot speak of them. They will not.

For if nothing else, they would owe her that much.

Soon enough, though the rumors remain unnoticed by those that’d mattered, it reaches the ears of one man. An undercover mage from the Council, having settled into the townsfolk to try his hand at acquiring information, in attempts to try to take out the guild.

He hears of the rumor, and almost doesn’t believe it. But the whispers are too strong, and the strength and hope of those who utter of it is steadfast, and perhaps -- there must some truth to the rumors, just maybe.

He finds out when he is taken.

He finds her when he is saved.

Perhaps he arrives just when she would need him.

For she is tired, and disenchanted, and the past year has ruined her in more ways then one could count. Her relationship is in shambles, her worth to the guild is based off the chaos only she could create, there is more blood on her hands then she could ever hope to erase.

She has no one to rely on except for herself, yet she knows that any sense of escape would be - if anything - absolutely futile.

She has no where else to go.

But then there is a man whispering to her from his now open cell, waiting for her to take his hand as he tells her of all the rumors he’s heard, of all the things she’s done, of all those that she’d saved --- because it must be her, it must ---

‘ You don’t want to be here, do you? You don’t want to do this, right? I can have them grant you pardon. I can give that to you. ‘

She does not respond.

Just hoping to give her a way out.

‘ I can keep you safe. ‘

Her eyes narrow at those words. She remains quiet.

Jackie turns around, and she leaves. She does not look back.

...when she comes around again in a weeks time, it is to her surprise.

For the man is still there. Waiting in his cell, bloody and bruised and aching, but waiting.

For her.

He refuses to leave, he says, until she comes with him.

She opens his cell again, calls him a moron, and leaves.

And when she returns, he is still there.

--- her comrades start getting suspicious. For they are used to burned corpses and cadavers. Not a man with a smart mouth that she hasn’t yet taken care of. They jest and they laugh, they wonder if perhaps she’s taken a shine to the man.

( she doesn’t even know his name )

But it makes Garry of all people, very curious. And despite the pervasive frigidness between them, as what’s left of their relationship shrivels into an already endless abyss, he can’t help but wonder.

Perhaps it is his sudden interest in her again, after so many months of ignorance, that it suddenly snaps the woman back to herself.

Things were getting --- dangerous.

It is on the fourth week, upon which the man has relentlessly stayed despite her promise of escape otherwise, that she arrives at just an hour before daybreak, carrying a lone candle and opening his cell for one last time.

And she offers him her hand.

At the age of twenty, the man takes her and steals her away into the darkness, upon which her comrades awaken to find her gone - upon which they awaken to find their entire lair burning to the ground.

They awaken just in time for the bombs to go off.

They awaken just in time to die.

This time, she is taken away, and this time -- she is kept safe. Brought before the Council and the Queen in chains, yet requested for pardon by those of which she’d saved, her honor upheld by those who’d been the stalwart proof of her mercy. The mage is kept restrained and tightly guarded until her sentence can be decided, and though the General makes an appearance, there is little that can be done in his efforts to have her permanently incarcerated.

The man of who she’d saved ( Theo, he’d told her his name was ) was of higher rank then the General himself could ever hope to be, and his judgement of her makes all the difference.

In the end, she is imprisoned, but only for half a year, as her merits are taken into consideration. On good behavior, she is let out on parole, and despite being constantly watched by the Council and their guards, she accepts the terms, if only so that she may taste her freedom once again.

She restarts her life, one more time.

And in two years time, after traveling on her own and trying to prove herself once again ( if only to herself, so that might come to terms with her own past, who she’s become, and perhaps with her future --- )

Fairy Tail comes together once again. And with Theo’s encouragement, and with faltering uncertainty beating in her chest, she arrives in Magnolia at daybreak, in the hopes that perhaps -- maybe ---

She’d find her place here.

#&& an eternal mystery; a never ending adventure (fairy tail verse)#&& chatelaine on the decks (jackie headcannon)#/ is this a mess idk #/ my heart is racing so hard i cant function rn dbashdbhsabhdbshabdhashd #/ i will. try to reread and maybe if theres things i need to change idk.#/ i'll try again later dhsabdhbsahbd #/ a mess OTL

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officialdipp · 7 years

Photo

OPEN GROUP VERSE ; DOLLS IN PSEUDO PARADISE

If you’re interested, feel free to reblog this to help spread the word !

Where do things go when they are no longer needed ? If something is deemed as ‘ forgotten ’, ‘ worthless ’, ‘ not worth remembering ’ then surely it would be as if that thing had never truly existed in the first place wouldn’t it ?

Thrown away, abandoned, no better than mere FANTASY.

But what does any of this have to do with you ? You are not a forgotten thing to be thrown away, surely you aren’t. You are surely someone who goes about life in the best way one can. Perhaps you have friends, family, pets, surely you have something, someone, which binds you to this world. ( you are REAL. ) So what does any of this have to do with you ?

A forest with no exit ( how long have you been walking ? ) you don’t remember how long you have been here ( when did you even walk into this forest ? Had you not been SOMEWHERE ELSE ? Walking to school, to work, to somewhere surely… nothing seems to be missing on your person after all… ) Would you not have noticed walking into a forest ? ( But you didn't. You didn’t notice. How are you here ? )

WHY IS THIS FOREST SO QUIET ?

An unnerving atmosphere truly, tall trees with branches reaching up vainly to the rising sun ( when did it become morning ? ) tendrils of mist curling through lush leaf strewn ground, grasping, grabbing, searching to cling desperately onto anything which was foolish enough to walk through these unmarked paths. This forest is unfamiliar, this forest is perhaps just the slightest bit unsettling, but not as unsettling as the vague distinct tingle in the back of one's mind which is all too recognizable as the feeling of being WATCHED ( but from where ? By what ? ) you hear no birds in the trees, you hear no movement of life through the underbrush. ( that isn't normal surely ) but you can FEEL it, you know you can, EYES watching your every move ( like a lion watching a lamb which has strayed from its pen )

Perhaps you walk faster, ( there has to be an exit ! ) perhaps you don’t care, ( you aren’t in any danger right ? So why should you ? ) perhaps you check your phone ( no service ) perhaps you cry out for help ( no response )

Where do things go when they are forgotten ?

Eventually, a breakthrough, through the trees and mist you can make out the distinct outline of a small village ( you weren’t walking in circles after all it seems ) and the closer you get the more you can begin to make out; a school, an apartment complex, and what you are sure is something like a gas station ( signs of civilization ! ) and what's more, among it all you catch sight of other people. A crowd slowly gathering at the center of what you could only assume is some sort of town square, around something, ( around someone ) and surely you soon join the crowd too, no ? It would be better for you than simply standing around ( or risking becoming lost in the woods once more ) this has to be a chance for answers. Then you see her, a women standing upon little more than slightly elevated platform at the center of it all, yet still somehow COMMANDING the attention of every person gathered around her.

Where do things go when they are forgotten ?

SHE has been expecting you it seems. Her blonde hair done up in a tight bun, parasol neatly folded at her side, bright ( unnatural ) violet eyes which at once sweep through the murmuring voices of the forcibly gathered crowd.

❝ My, my, so many things have WASHED UP on my shore it seems... ❞ She speaks suddenly, her voice somehow demanding the attention of every single person gathered before her despite its perfectly carefree tone. ( She isn’t making the effort to raise her voice much higher than the clamoring of the crowd, and why should she RAISE her voice ? Surely you will listen, wont you ? To the only person ( ? ) here who seems to know what's going on. ) ❝ Please DO settle down, all your pointless chitchat is going to give me a headache. I’m sure you all must have SO many questions, no ? ❞ A small chuckle escaped her lips, a small elegant curtsy given to the crowd in one completely fluid motion ( like a magician about to start a great show ) before continuing, ❝ --but as they say, patience is a virtue. All will be revealed with due time I promise you, but for now-- ❞

❝ WELCOME TO MY WONDERLAND ❞

Spirited away to a land of fantasy, trapped in an abandoned mountain village lost to time and space, you find yourself with nothing but the clothes on your back and anything you happened to have on hand. You have been captured, trapped like rats, and your captor, ( a woman calling herself Yukari Yakumo ) claims you have been FORGOTTEN by the world you came from.

The monster in your closet, the shadows that lurk in the night, the supernatural, the paranormal, how shocked must you be to discover they are all VERY much real. Real, and CRAVING for the FEAST they have been denied for so long.

And that is where you come in, your captor has made THAT much PERFECTLY clear. Forgotten to your world and lost in shadow, you are to become food for the creatures of myth and legend that haunt this place. However, your captor has taken pity ( ? ) on you, ( or perhaps simply sending lambs off to the slaughter is much too BORING for her tastes... ) and offers up a DEAL ( how FOND this one is of her GAMES ).

End the current existence of one of your fellow prisoners, and she will set you free, as a bonus, she’ll even grant you your greatest desire --a wish. However, all games need stakes, all games need a challenge ( did you really believe it’d be so SIMPLE ? ). Kill someone and get away with it when put on trial against your equals. If you FAIL you get EATEN by the monsters which lurk within the outskirts of the village. Likewise, if your fellow prisoners do not guess correctly, while you will be freed ( as promised ) the remaining prisoners will make quite the BUFFET in return...

You have been forced into a murder game, though really the better words for this is a game of survival.

Trapped in a land that does not care for you, populated by the creatures who gave humans a reason to FEAR the SHADOWS, trapped in a game of kill or be killed, live or die, escape or be eaten. In the end, lives WILL be lost. ( Your warden made THAT clear too ) Either way, Yukari is intent on getting exactly what she wants from her new PLAYGROUND.

There are NO real RULES here, though Yukari has been kind enough to place several ( actual ) customized street caution signs in the village square for you. Follow them, don’t follow them, she doesn’t really care, though if something goes WRONG don’t say she didn’t WARN YOU.

They are all very simple, and each sign colored in a visible bright yellow, they are as follows:

CAUTION !

The forest holds many dangers, try not to visit after sunset. Steal from the shops at your own risk: punishment will be administered at the whim of the shopkeepers. Property damage should be avoided, unless one is handy enough to fix whatever they broke. Leave offerings at shrines for a little bit of good luck ( you’ll need it ). Attack the sukima youkai at your own risk. Mind the gap.

VERSE INFO

✂—– This is an OPEN VERSE. ANYONE is free to join, canon, oc, multi-muse, etc. THE CUT-OFF POINT FOR CAST WILL BE SOMETIME AFTER THE SECOND CHAPTER BEGINS. Be sure to tag your verse posts with the tag ‘ v; dolls in pseudo paradise ’. Follow it to keep up with the verse’s events ! That is the official tag for the group, and where you will find open starters, group events, new applicants, etc. You’re more than welcome to make your own tag alongside that, though please tag your posts with the official tag so we can find your posts !

✂—– This verse is inspired by the setting of Touhou Project, the murder game mechanics of Dangan Ronpa, with a dash of Fatal Frame and other such horror games of its nature thrown in. as such, dark themes WILL be present. You do not have to be familiar with any of these things to participate, we got you covered on all fronts!

✂—– Youkai muses are allowed and encouraged! There’s only one catch- in this setting, youkai are born from human fear. It’s hard coded into their schematics, they cannot resist their nature. How open they are about their inhuman status amongst their peers is up to you, but given the situation they’re in.... it’s safe to say a wolf among the sheep’s going to cause a little bit of panic, no?

✂—– Yukari has basically spirited away all your muses from their canon verse / your verse of choice and dumped them into a realm which exists as a sort of ‘ wonderland ’, a pocket dimension of sorts with seemingly no exit. They have been kidnapped, ripped right from their ‘ story ’ and dropped right smack dab into the village with only the clothes on their backs and everything they may have on hand at the time.

✂—– As such, memories have been left INTACT ( probably ). Your muse remembers going about their daily life as normal before getting snatched up ( ‘ gapped away ’ literally walking through a rift in space-time which Yukari created ) and without their notice ending up a forest.

✂—– The village at NIGHT TIME leads to many events at RANDOM. There is no set schedule for these. Youkai are roaming in this village after all, and they will do as they please WHEN they please. Occasionally there will be witnesses, some there may not be. Some events may be dangerous to your muse, some might be helpful. But all of them are certainly strange… even the ones among you just seem a little bizarre.

✂—– It is preferable that you follow the ADMINS of this group as found in the admins page though it isn't required.

✂—– For the murder events, the admins will pair off two people ( though volunteers are welcomed ) – one to play the part of ‘ murderer ’ and the other their ‘ victim ’. The max amount of people who can be killed by ONE PERSON is TWO. If no one is willing to take the role, one of the admins will handle it.

✂—– Please. If you take part in this verse, treat each other kindly out of character and please be welcoming to those who join. See an open without notes ? Reply ! Want to plot with someone ? Feel free to ask ! We’re all just a big happy family stuck in a death village on a mountain. No big deal.

✂—– Threads of any length are welcome !

✂—– Trials, murders, and story events will be announced by Yukari. Trials are interactive and will be played out by interacting with other members in the group or by sending IC asks to this blog directed at Yukari. When it comes time to the voting, you’ll also cast your votes by sending them into the blog ! Yukari will also confirm or deny evidence in the trial and investigation if it’s needed or asked ( though whether she wants to or not is a different story-- ).

✂—– The application for this verse is short and simple. Only a few key things will be needed to know about your muse, which will be kept PRIVATE for the sake of moderating this ‘ story ’ New people will be introduced in batches and the masterlist will be updated as the applications come in !

✂—– Doubles are not an issue.

SEND ANY FURTHER QUESTIONS HERE PLEASE CHECK THE FAQ PAGE AND THE TAG AS IT'S UPDATED. FOR MORE INFORMATION ON THE SETTING ITSELF CHECK OUT THIS PAGE SUBMIT APP: HERE APP STATUS: OPEN

Name / Age: Species ( human / youkai / something else ? ): Weakness your character has ? ( physical / mental ): What would make them WANT to kill someone ? Strengths your character has ? ( physical / mental): What would KEEP them from killing ? Would you be willing to play the role of murderer ? Would you be willing to play the role of victim ? Triggers ? URL:

#v; dolls in pseudo paradise #reference #group verse #open group rp #open group verse #long post//

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