more than anything else, it makes me incredibly happy to read this aksjdhkj idk i love the fact that he said the sounds are basing on his daily moods nd he is just kinda going w the flow i love how admirable hob is. he always work so hard in everything he does nd constantly trying to improve nd be a better version of himself but still !! having fun nd pouring so much love nd effort in his work i love him nd i love how he is so versatile nd diverse nd not afraid to try nd experiment w new things we really don’t kno what it’s gonna sound like askdha that makes me so excite !!! anyways, loving hob is seriously the most wonderful thing nd i hope he isn’t stressing himself too much bcs i’d really wait 2913829498 years if it means hob is satisfied, proud nd happy w his hixtape
Yep! It’s happening! This Beauty and the Beast yoonjin fanfic thing is actually happening! I just needed some time to organize all my thoughts so that it wasn’t a complete mess, but I’m READY now, so this is GOING TO HAPPEN!
Just like I did with the vkook Error fanfic, I’m going to post the full story on my ao3 account when I’m completely done. Until then, I hope these small segments bring you some joy and keep you excited for the story. YEP!
REALLY HAPPENING NOW! 🌹🌸💫
“Once upon a time, in the south of
Korea, there lived a handsome prince. This prince was cruel and unfair. He had
no friends, no one to stand by him or defend him when he was insulted, even the
sons of parliament who were his age refused to be anywhere near him. This
prince saw kindness and mercy as weakness, and he was always against it. He
killed his men for simple acts of disobedience. If any of them ever refused him
a wish, defied him, or openly disagreed with him, he would have them executed
“One day, when the prince had been
especially bothered, a young child, orphaned, had come into his castle. This
child was beaten, the sun from under which he had spent many days walking had
turned his skin dark, and the poison plants that he had nearly died from
ingesting too many times had turned the corners of his mouth swollen and red.
His fingers were cut, his feet bare, and his clothes torn. He had asked for
help, for nothing but a bowl of rice and water, but the prince was quick to
turn his chin with disgust, and wave the child away.
could you refuse an injured child shelter?” the people of his court had raged. “He cannot be more than nineteen years old,
he is too young! He has come all this way for your mercy, we beg you to
WILL NOT APPEAR WEAK BY SHOWING SOMETHING AS RIDICULOUS AS MERCY!” he
growled, his snarl deepening as he glanced down at the child. “Kindness- one should only be ashamed of
carrying such grave flaws.” As he turned back to his throne, he said, “The child will be punished. He has walked
into my home, uninvited and unannounced. For his insolence, I put him to
death.” The room corrupted with yells of outrage, of desperate pleads, then
he screamed, “MY DECISION IS FINAL!” His
eyes roaming the room, his voice dangerously low. “If anyone objects, they are welcome to join him.”
“The room went dead silent, and the
boy ducked his head so low, his entire face was no hidden by the cloak he wore.
The guards hesitated, but with the flick of the prince’s wrist in his
direction, one of them moved towards him, his fingers circling the head of his
“Just as he pulled his weapon,
ready to strike, the boy lifted his head, and the guard froze. His sword
dropped to the ground, the sounds of metal on tiles echoing loudly throughout
the throne room. The prince’s head snapped to the guard. He was about to yell
with outrage, to tell him to pick up his sword and do his duty when he caught
sight of the child’s eyes. His breath caught in his throat, and the members of
parliament all gasped, backing away from the child as if he had an invisible circle
of men protecting him.
“The child stood easily, every
color in his eyes replaced with a bright blue, even the whites. His head lifted
to the prince, the twitch in his fingers gone.
“He spoke, his voice sounding like
a combination of a hundred people speaking at once, “You are cruel, and your weakness hinders you.”
“Everyone else was too afraid to
speak as they cowered against the wall, but the prince had shakily managed to
ask, “W-W-Who are you? W-What are you?”
“The child did not answer. Instead,
he began floating above the ground. His blemished and damaged skin replaced
with a clear white. His clothes changed to beautiful, white silk robes. His
hair was a light blonde, and his face carried all the gentleness and beauty of
an angel. He rose higher until he was towering over the prince. “You carry no kindness, love, nor mercy in
your heart. Your spirit is no different than that of a demon, and for that, you
will be punished.”
the prince kneeled, his hands together as he begged for forgiveness. “Please, I do not wish to be punished! I
will do anything, but you must not punish me! PLEASE!”
“The prince tried. He said he would
change. He apologized for the way he treated the child, but it was too late.
The angel had already seen into his dark heart. The prince watched with horror
as his body began to change into something he could only identify as a demon’s.
On his head, two black horns had grown out. His fangs had sharpened, as well as
his nails. His view went red as even his eyes changed color.
punishment shall not end with you,” the angel had warned, his gaze
traveling all over the room to the members of parliament. “Your descendants, all of
them, shall also live their lives as demon spirits. Until your prince learns
the value of a good heart, your blood will never be free of this curse.”
“The prince had tried to search for
the meaning of kindness, the parliament who worried for their children also
tried to help him, but the angel’s curse affected him more deeply than he had
anticipated. He felt anger more severely, the hatred he had for acts of good
intensified, and he could feel himself changing into more of a blood-thirsty,
demon spirit more every day.
“Finally, as he rounded the end of
his life, his child and the children of his members of parliament all growing
as half demon spirits, the prince gave up in his search of kindness. He sealed
the palace grounds, to ensure that no one ever enter, and no demon ever escape.
One by one, the children turned older, their minds devoured by the demon halves
that lived within them, and they, too, fully became demon spirits with no
recollection of their pasts.
“It is said that on the night of
the full moon, the barrier around the palace is broken, and the demons are free
“Okay, I’m going to stop you right
there,” Seokjin finally said, interrupting his friend. “If the demons are free
to leave, how come nobody’s ever seen one?”
Hoseok sighed. “Because bothering the spirits in this
city is completely forbidden. There’s, like, a law against. My grandfather set it up himself.”
“He can do that?”
“He’s the elder of the village,” he
scoffed, “he can do whatever he wants.” He took another swig of his soju
bottle. “Look, believe it if you want to, but I’m telling you; those demon
spirits are a big deal around here. Even the skeptics aren’t dumb enough to go
walking around at night on a full moon.”
Seokjin looked around the bar. “What
about the people in here? They have to go home sometime, don’t they?”
He nodded. “And they will. When the
sun comes up.”
Seokjin thought about it, then, “Why
when the sun comes up? The demons get to leave, don’t they? How do you know
they’re not just waiting around town after tonight?”
“Because they have to get back onto
palace grounds before morning. Otherwise, they die.” Seokjin raised an eyebrow,
and he chuckled. “I know how it sounds, but it’s true. It’s like the golden
rule to them.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m assuming.” He nodded slowly.
He nodded slowly, then, “But aren’t
you worried about what’ll happen before then? I mean, you and your grandfather
have been walking around town since the sun set.”
Hoseok groaned, rubbing his face
with his free hand. He glanced into the room at the far back where the bar
tender and waiters kept coming in and out. “Don’t even get me started on that. He does this every full moon; he
has errands to run, and he won’t give them up for one night. And I always have to go with him cause…” he
shrugged like it was obvious, “it’s not like I can let him go by himself.” Seokjin
nodded, a small smile on his lips as he followed his friend’s gaze. “Truth be told,
I’m pretty scared. I mean, push comes to shove, and what have I got? An old man
that can barely stand up straight, and an insanely gorgeous model.”
Seokjin took the book off his lap,
and hit his friend’s arm with it. “I’m serious, stop saying that crap.”
He chuckled, rubbing the place
where he got hit. “What, you think I’m the only one thinking it? Look around
you.” Seokjin only sighed. “Everyone in here’s been watching you since you
“You drink, sir,” a waitress said
as she set a colorful drink across the counter to Seokjin.
His brows furrowed. “I-I’m sorry, I
didn’t order this.”
Her smile widened, her cheeks
glowing bright red. “It’s on the house.” She walked away, glancing once at
Seokjin over her shoulder.
“See?” Hoseok said. “Everybody’s in
love with you.”
As if on cue, Seokjin felt a hand
at his shoulder. “In love, that I am.” He looked up and resisted the urge to
lean away from the tall, handsome man that now had his entire arm draped around
Seokjin’s shoulders. “Seokjin, you been having a good night?”
“Zhou Mi,” Hoseok grumbled, “don’t
you have some cars to bench press or something?”
Zhou Mi only scowled at him, and he
turned around Seokjin so that he was now standing between him and Hoseok. “You look beautiful, as always.”
Seokjin nodded awkwardly. “Thank
you, Zhou Mi.”
He leaned against the counter,
Hoseok struggling to look at his friend from behind. He sighed, his eyes
roaming the bar. “Looks like we’re the only two worth looking at tonight, again.” He shook his head, his sad eyes
on Seokjin. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Being so attractive, and having to consort
with…” he trailed off, spreading his hand at the people laughing and drinking
in the background.
He only glanced to the others, then
back at Zhou Mi. “I don’t really think that’s-”
“Oh, geez, Seokjin,” he
interrupted, picking up the book in Seokjin’s hands. He held it by its edge as
if it was a rotting piece of cheese. “I thought we talked about this? You know
what happens when people start reading;
they get ideas, and when people start getting ideas, things get ugly.” He used
his free hand to lightly graze his jaw. He smirked. “Sorry, it’s hard to think
of anything ugly when I’m looking at something so perfect.”
He sighed, moving out of his touch
as he tried reaching for his book. “And I
thought I told you that I like to
read. Instead of judging it, why don’t you try
it?” Zhou Mi kept the book out of his reach, amused at how hard the younger boy
was trying. He huffed. “Can I have my book back, please?”
His smile widened, his eyes never
leaving Seokjin’s face. “But you’re so cute when you’re frustrated. I want to
see it again.”
Seokjin sighed, glancing at Hoseok
who had his face contorted with disgust at Zhou Mi. With one look from his
hyung, Hoseok immediately understood what Seokjin wanted him to do, and he
suddenly poked Zhou Mi in his back, hard. Zhou Mi turned to him, annoyed, and
as soon as he did, Seokjin stood on the stool and yanked his book out of his
He came back down with a sigh, his
book held tightly to his chest, and Zhou Mi only smiled wider. “Clever. Cute and clever.”
He only stared. “I read.”
“Grandfather!” Hoseok waved over to
the old man that was holding a hey sac in his hands. He nudged Seokjin, “Come
They moved to leave, but before
they could, Zhou Mi wrapped an arm around Seokjin’s waist, and pulled him in
close. He ignored the whines of the girl calling him again, and focused his
attention on the boy in his hold. “Seokjin, why don’t you come stay with me? I
have more room for you than those two.”
He tried squirming out of his
grasp. “No, thank you.” Zhou Mi’s hold tightened. “Zhou Mi, let me go.”
He shook his head, his smirk
widening. “That’s what your lips keep saying, but your eyes always say
He finally managed to unhook Zhou
Mi’s arm from his waist. “Believe me. You don’t want to know what my eyes are
He hurried away, thankful to be
beside Hoseok and Grandfather Jung as they walked out into the cold, night air.
Hoseok must’ve noticed how tense he was because as they stepped away from the
bar, he raised an eyebrow at him.
Seokjin only shook his head, and
turned his attention to the old man. “Grandfather Jung, what did you want from
the bar, anyway?”
He smiled, holding up the sac. “The
owner plants the best apple trees in the village. She uses them in her drinks,
and she lets me buy a few from her.”
“Grandfather makes the best tarts
and pies with those apples,” Hoseok said proudly. “He sends them to this small,
family bakery in Seoul every week, and they pay a lot of money for it.”
Grandfather Jung shook his head,
chuckling, “It’s just nice to know that my baking is appreciated.”
Seokjin chuckled. “Seoul, huh? I
wonder what that place is like.”
“Hyung, you thinking about going
He shrugged, unable to help the
longing smile on his face. “I don’t know, it’s just a nice thought. Seoul, it’s
so big, and there are so many opportunities. I’m wondering what that would be
like; the adventure, you know?”
“Maybe you should go to France,
Seokjin,” Grandfather Jung said. “All the beautiful people seem to live there.”
The boys both laughed, and Seokjin
tried to ignore the blush at his cheeks.
Hoseok and Grandfather Jung kept
their conversation going, but Seokjin had stopped at the faint thumping sound
in the distance. He thought he had heard wrong, but then it came again, and he
turned around towards the bar.
“Hyung?” Hoseok asked, “Are you
But Seokjin couldn’t hear him. He
was paying more attention to the boy standing at the backdoor of the bar. For some
reason, and he knew it was ridiculous to think so, but the boy almost shined in
the night. His hair was a light shade of pink, and he looked like he was
wearing his pajamas as he pointed at the door. His eyes bore into Seokjin’s,
and the taller boy felt himself being pulled back to the bar.
What was going on? He couldn’t tell
if he was willingly walking, or if he was being moved by something else. Something
from that mysterious boy. The closer Seokjin got, the louder the thumping
became. The sounds of cheering, laughing, and yelling from inside were almost
faded as if someone decided they weren’t as important.
It was only when Seokjin was right
in front of the door did he feel himself wake out of his trance. He looked to
the side where the shining boy had been standing, and his brows furrowed when
he found him gone.
“Hyung!” Hoseok finally caught up
with him. “What are you doing? Did you forget something?” There was no
response, and Seokjin felt his arm being tugged. “Come on, I don’t want to stay
outside longer we have to.”
“Do you hear that?” Seokjin asked,
his eyes back on the door. “That sound?”
“What, the yelling from inside?”
He shook his head. “N-No, that
Hoseok listened harder, then his
eyes narrowed. “Yeah yeah, what is that?”
“I don’t know,” he said. Then, he
thought about that boy he saw. He was pointing at this door, wasn’t he? Why?
Seokjin didn’t know how to explain it, but it was as if a voice was calling him
in. He thought about what his mother had always told him. Don’t think too much. If you think about it enough, you give yourself a
reason not to do it.
So, without a word or another
thought, he pushed the door open, and headed down the descending stairs,
leaving Hoseok’s calls in the background. His fingers tightened around his book
as he went deeper inside. He imagined Hoseok waiting for his grandfather, or
maybe waiting for him at the top of
the stairs, the concern on his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Not
The stairs were beginning to feel
endless when he finally reached the ground floor. The thumping kept getting
louder and louder. His eyes widened when he found several dungeon cells lined
against each other. They looked old, the bars rusted, but as Seokjin tugged on
one, he found them impossible to move from place.
He hesitated, then called out, “Hello?
Is anybody here?”
As soon as he spoke, the thumping
stopped. He narrowed his eyes and went in deeper. It looked like he was
reaching the last, empty cell, and he was beginning to think that he had just
imagined the whole scenario with the glowing boy. He felt his nails dig holes
into the books as he reached the end of the hall, and he quickly realized that
the cell was not empty.
It was very dark, but his eyes soon
adjusted, and they widened at the sight of a young, boy crouched against a
corner. His hair seemed to be bright red, his eyes were an unnatural yellow,
and on his head, there were two fox ears, the same red color as his hair. Behind
him, Seokjin could just make out a red tail. He crouched down further as
Seokjin watched him. He was sure he couldn’t be any older than he was.
“Beautiful,” the young boy
mindlessly muttered as his eyes fixated on Seokjin, loud enough for the both of
them to hear. “Beautiful.”
Seokjin didn’t know how to respond.
His eyes finally lowered to the cuts along the boy’s chest, staining his shirt
with small streaks of blood, and then the larger stain at his side. His heart
sunk as he realized the boy must’ve been stabbed.
heard a gasp beside him, and he realized Grandfather Jung and Hoseok had
finally caught up. He imagined the both of them staring at the prisoner, but he
never moved his eyes off Seokjin’s, watching him like he couldn’t believe what
he was seeing. Seokjin blushed under the weight of his stares, still unable to
God,” Grandfather Jung breathed, “a demon spirit.”
Overthrowing a powerful government in the name of the people is a popular plot. It certainly has a great appeal.
However, before you get all excited about writing a story where the angered people scramble together an army and launch themselves against the government, you might want to take a step back and figure out how they got there in the first place. A revolution isn’t built around one big event: there are things that lead up to it, and there are smaller frustrations that may go unnoticed, but because it’s a part of everyday life, it’s a constant reminder. They might not be the things people point to when identifying what started the revolution, but they certainly kept the wood for the fire warm.
At what point did the government begin to ruffle feathers? It’s going to start out small. It will be annoying, but dismissed as bearable. It may cause a bit of an obstacle, but nothing that people can’t work around. Perhaps the government won’t let working class or its colonies to use the official currency. Perhaps items of higher quality were held for only certain people the government deemed worthy.
When did the government start adding to the little things? For one reason or another, the government starts putting restrictions or laws on more things. They’re still able to work around them, but people will talk to each other about their frustration over it. It’s also important to remember that the government will have a reason for it. Maybe the new law/restriction is more cost effective, Maybe it’s intended for protection. Some examples might be that the colonies/citizens are limited to government approved materials. Or they’re banned from traveling to a certain place, and that place happens to be on the fastest path to another colony/town.
What started sparking outrage? Perhaps the government overspent on something, or they went to war and are now low on funds, so they introduce a tax on an item that’s considered an everyday luxury. Or perhaps a ban is introduced and it affects something that everyone normally gets, but not necessarily a need. There’s still not enough to pick up arms and fight, and the people might at this point lobby with the government to reconsider some of its strategies.
When did it start picking up speed? Perhaps the first tax isn’t bringing in enough funds. Or the government feels the people aren’t paying as much as they should. So another tax is introduced. Or perhaps the ban isn’t that effective and so another ban is introduced to keep people from finding loopholes. Maybe the government has to ban certain imports. Anger with the government is increasing at this point. The citizens/colonists may understand why the government is doing it, but they know they’re getting the raw deal. Attempts to get the government’s attention become more aggressive, but there isn’t harming of other people.
How does the government respond? So the government responds to the people’s cries of outrage, but not in the way they expected. Another tax and/or ban is introduced, or even a new law. Perhaps citizens/colonists are forced to use a material they are opposed to. Perhaps the government realizes that if it doesn’t do something, it’s going to lose control over its citizens/colonies. The militia/police force is increased to keep an eye for rebellious acts. Arrests are made daily, and the people might be released if nothing is found. Perhaps the government starts forbidding certain things to be said in the media, so people are forced to rely on word of mouth, and must do so carefully because of the increase in arrests. Perhaps at this time, the idea of revolting is mentioned while others insist on trying to be diplomatic.
When does the physical conflict happen? Perhaps there was a scuffle with the police force. Either the citizens/colonists attacked first, or the police/militia acted aggressively. Perhaps there was a massacre of some kind. Maybe there were incidents that didn’t result in injury or death, but it came close to it. Perhaps the government or citizens/colonists made a precautionary move that made the other party highly uncomfortable. As the incidents, whether of violent or nonviolent nature, increase in number, the intensity also increases. Influential people of the citizens/colonists begin to suggest a revolution, or to declare independence. The government begins to realize they’re losing control unless they take more drastic measures.
When does the idea of a revolution actually become a threat? Revolting or declaring independence becomes something that many people agree with. The government perhaps realizes this and so starts making laws or regulations to keep it from happening. Weaponry might become illegal for citizens/colonists so they won’t have anything to fight with if/when a revolution actually happens. Curfews might be enforced. Those outspoken about the government might be tailed. The influential people work hard on a new government or system to replace the oppressive government. Perhaps they just plan to outright revolt instead of declaring independence. But either way, the citizens/colonists are only one word from the government away from declaring war.
It may seem like a lot to work on, but there are events leading up to the revolution that will resound with some people more than others. Or there are events that will become a bitter memory that will help give some depth to each individual character.
Some things to consider when building the revolution: It is not as black and white as it may seem.Both sides are going to be guilty of doing something wrong; it’s just going to be more obvious in the government. There are going to be people among the citizens/colonists who side with government and they’re not necessarily going to be bad guys. When creating the conflict, keep in mind why people would choose one side over the other. Stages will overlap. A revolution isn’t going to be cleanly cut as posted above. There are several times when a “stage” will mix with another “stage”, while others may blend right into the next one. Timelining the process and placing each event can be extremely helpful as you try to keep events straight. The revolters are most likely going to be the underdog. They may have experienced people on their side, but if the revolution is going to made up of average citizens/colonists, they’re going to be at a disadvantage. The government is going to be in control of an army and other resources. The revolters are going to have to work to achieve their goals.
I truly love James and Lorna together, i wish they had this deep relationship in the show. Oh my God, What an exciting story your taboo fanfic is!
Thank you nonny! :)
And you know, I do feel that the show gave us enough to suggest that they do have a deep relationship - or at the least the start of one. James doesn’t show that vulnerable side of himself to anyone but Lorna. That takes an incredible amount of trust. “You see me as I am.” Hugely important – the person that does that and still cares: that’s the One!! In the show context, it really is all up to James. At this point, I don’t feel he is strong enough to handle any relationship — but, he clearly wanted her with him. For now, at the very least, they are good partners.
My feeling was that the show was laying a good, solid foundation that is based on trust, respect and a true affection. Lust is a powerful agent, but we also all know it often burns out and ends up hollow. But I think when you have that good foundation, and the fact that they really, truly are a good match - you can definitely get the BOOM! And, it will be true. SO, if Season 2 brings them even closer… who knows what could happen? But I rather feel it’s a long/in the distance end game than something that will happen very soon.
The key is their communication and their closeness, which is what my story focuses on: that intimacy just keeps building … it’s not just about sex.
So there was a single, solitary kiwi on our counter in the kitchen.
And I decided to make fun of my roommate for it, because who buys one, single, solitary kiwi? So I asked her that.
Roommate: I didn’t buy a kiwi.
Me: This isn’t your kiwi?
Me: But this isn’t my kiwi.
Roommate: That kiwi was there when I got home.
Me: I don’t even eat kiwi!
As you can see, it’s a real kiwi. Here it is, on my counter, giving away nothing.
But I was still confused as to where it came from. Did one of us accidentally buy a kiwi at the store?
So I looked up the Kiwiny company to figure out which stores it’s sold at, to see which one of us might have bought it, since we tend to use different grocery stores.
Kiwiny doesn’t have American retailers.
There is literally no reason for this kiwi to be in my kitchen.
lots of people have been asking me if I ever figured out where the kiwi came from. So to provide an update on the magical kiwi … one day I took a nap and had a dream about those creepy spiders that hide in bananas and I thought like oh my god this kiwi is gonna be full of spiders. So I woke up and promptly put the kiwi in a ziploc bag. To contain the dream spiders.
The kiwi sat on the counter for a few days, then got moved to the top of the fridge to get it out of the way. It sat there for a couple weeks. It never appeared to go bad? I did eventually throw it out, just because I was confused about it and neither of us were ever going to eat the kiwi.
Never found out why the kiwi was in my kitchen. I guess we’ll never know.
im so excited and obsessed with this fic by houseofcannibals , ive been thinking about it all night. shawshank redemption has been my favorite movie for years this fic is so well written and im so nostalgic im going to watch the movie againn for the millionth time!!
So my little 11 year old sister has finally beat the first boss of dark souls 3 without my help it took 3 hours of grueling grinding watching her and coaching from the side but she is exited and is ready to tell Lothric to fear the rain of Elizabeth the greatest ashen one to walk the land! I shall keep the world updated on her story! And she has this to say now that I’ve beaten this weirdo i can beat anyone (hah we will see about that)