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I'm gonna spam the title of hashtags lol 🍹 #twicealbum #twice #twiceedit #twiceedits #twicevideos #twıce #twicetagram #twicejyp #twiceonce #tasteoflove #tasteoflovetwice #twicecomeback #comebacktwice #conceptvideo #trailer #kpopedit #kpopedits #kpopaesthetic #kpopaesthetics #jyp #jypentertainment #jyptwice https://youtu.be/QZxLoZDgnWg 🍷 https://www.instagram.com/p/COjl64aAU-N/?igshid=9s14bqrvdaen
Playboy's, y'ready or not?
bts + dystopian + other idols
description: THE NEWEST dystopian novel, where various youths - from different diversions - are drawn into the domains of the game - through the haunting invitations. They grow into adolescence together, secluded in the unknown, in the epicentre of danger and daring exploits, and with the repeated battle for existence. Each has their own history and a withering future that the game holds. Stray along in-between the brutal and agonising journeys of the protagonists, as each spiral into insanity in the arena. Each to their own. Further along in the battle for survival, hidden haunting memories flood back to them, reminding them of the reason why they're in there. The games tainted them but weren't they were already tainted?
pairing: mainy maknae line, but hyung line included interactions! ( btw this is a fanfic - mainly bts - but many other idols will be mentioned. )
genre: dystopian ( e.g. hunger games, divergent, the maze runner) action-adventure, action-romance.
rating: 15- 18+ ( mainly 18+ due to the mentions of injuries or more sensitive topics!)
warnings: different warnings will be set with the different chapters!
(lil note): This is my first fanfic I guess, point out any errors - without hesitation, because it seriously annoys me. uh just going to say what everyone else says, the scenes are all made up and I've wrote this purely out of boredom , don't take anything seriously the whole idea of the book, in itself is a joke. This is only a practice book i just want to see if anyone likes my pov on books and how I write my books, hope everyone enjoys this because, I've been looking for a good, non-cringey dystopian novel, fanfic or not so I've decided to make one myself, ahhh idk if i like this but just going to risk it bc yolo.
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Chapter 1 - The Beginning To It All
warnings: mention of blood and chapter includes a stalker-ish vibe.
THE MESSAGES and BLOODY HANDS began to arrive just a few days short from the start of summer break.
Initially, the little encrypted, hand-written messages appeared in just one location: on the window sill, dashed by brilliantly rendered handwriting, sealed securely shut, and stamped with unintelligible letters.
The night I had rendered free of all my thoughts was the night I had seen it.
The ink. The stamp from the letter was in my palm when I had focused on the contents of the letter. Way before I had the chance to realise the mess unravelling in my palm - merely seconds before I finished deciphering the letter, the searing crimson beads bled through the thin invitation itself, smearing the handwritten notes until words couldn't be deciphered, ink and blood becoming one.
That night I scrubbed, shaved my skin, peeled the intricate layers off, in attempts of rid myself free of the tainting spree of colour. Through the journey of it climbing viciously up my arms, staining its path like vines - it became a part of me. A part of us.
No matter the effort, the aftermath of the letter was untraversable, with my skin red raw and the stains not faltering, I gave up. Leaving my hands bloody.
What we didn't know was that twelve other individuals - other than ourselves, underwent the same fate. Exactly the same fate. All left tainted with crimson on their hands, to symbolise that.
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+ sooo theres a little insight on the beginning to all the mess, also an insight to the book I wish many come to enjoy... + probably one of my shortest chapters.
Playboy's, y'ready or not?
bts + dystopian + other idols
description: THE NEWEST dystopian novel, where various youths - from different diversions - are drawn into the domains of the game - through the haunting invitations. They grow into adolescence together, secluded in the unknown, in the epicentre of danger and daring exploits, and with the repeated battle for existence. Each has their own history and a withering future that the game holds. Stray along in-between the brutal and agonising journeys of the protagonists, as each spiral into insanity in the arena. Each to their own. Further along in the battle for survival, hidden haunting memories flood back to them, reminding them of the reason why they're in there. The games tainted them but weren't they were already tainted?
pairing: mainy maknae line, but hyung line included interactions! ( btw this is a fanfic - mainly bts - but many other idols will be mentioned. )
genre: dystopian ( e.g. hunger games, divergent, the maze runner) action-adventure, action-romance.
rating: 15- 18+ ( mainly 18+ due to the mentions of injuries or more sensitive topics!)
warnings: different warnings will be set with the different chapters!
------
Chapter 3 - When the sun rises, lets start again.
warnings: abuse, drowning, bruises, daddy issues.
" No man ever steps into a river twice, for it is not the same man nor river."
CHANGE IS ONE OF LIFE'S ONLY CONSTANTS. Cold things turn hot, the wet dries, the parch moistens, everything is constantly becoming something other than what it was.
When the perpetual murky and bleakly golden rays filtered through the tattered holes of his curtains, he strained stay under the depths of his dream. The golden chariot rode proudly across the sky, horses of pure light leaping through the night - filtered clouds, lighting the empty highways. With an ounce of effort he turned and tumbled under the hues of the sun, throwing the blanket over his head, had been the conclusionary decision, though after a while his ears and body failed to work in harmony with his exhilarating breaths, his soreness.
With a hanging foot already positioned of the bed, he lifts the other to join it, body still stationary, as if to fall back asleep. It takes him a moment, a thought of the day ahead to actually pick himself up.
Financial struggles had deterred his family from affording the penthouses or the houses that their boss and employers own, that laid in front of their 2 bedroom house. And similarly to the sunrise being accompanied by hues of gentle passion, he was accompanied by his sister.
She lays shrivelled, with the hem of the blanket at the tips of her fingers yet sprawled over the floor. That's all it takes for him to walk over, take two or three steps to the other side of the crammed room and - ever so gently - lift the blanket from the floor, brushing the tips of her fingers and lay it on her cradled figure. She stirs and he stands awaiting momentarily, but its when her legs and arms are on display, that he grimaces.
On her legs are etchings, marks that spill out with an array of colours, yellow from green, blue from purple that will stay withering under the clothes she covers herself with, for weeks, months maybe. Her face is a landscape that's no different, just slightly smaller reminders of the beatings, an ugly bruise at the bridge of her eyebrows, a cut on her cheek.
Seeing hers made his feel small, seeing her bruised and battered body made yesterday and its consequences seem like a peck of dust.
The previous night, otherwise the night his father used Jeongguk as his outlet for his anger.
Jeongguk was breathless with anger, but quite literally breathless.
May have been the death grip on the spine of his neck or the small time intervals his dad would draw his head out of the encaging water.
Jeongguk expected to be like those movies. In movies drowning is loud and splashy, incoherent yells every now and then, flaying of arms. It's weird, because while Jeongguk was drowning he rendered silent, subtle movements, rare moments of noise.
And when his head was dragged up and rumbles of his fathers wrath ricochet down his ears, to only be dunked back into the water, he expects to come back up, he does. But as each chance to breathe becomes further apart, each breath less than the last. Thoughts turned murky, senses turned useless and darkness reigned.
And when he had seemingly stirred into consciousness, he wasn't far from the water that dissipated and toyed with his death, in fact, he was laid beside the bathtub, with bleak similarities of injuries that his sister held now.
The more he stood there observing, the scars that web the memory of his fathers wrath, burn marks, fresh, from the buts of his worsening addiction, his anger, tug at his heart, suppress his arteries.
The grief Jeongguk feels for his sister - for the evidence of last nights beating, the previous night and the many days before - doesn't come heavy.
In fact Jeongguk doesn't know how he feels.
Jeongguk doesn't know how he feels when his eyes follow the trajectory of the road, the punctuating train rails, the narrow row of parking spaces covered in fine gravel. It's when he's partway up a deteriorating cliff face, that Jeongguk knows exactly why he's here.
The mounds of earth don't seem to rest neat and in unity with each other, instead clustered together as if they all thrive to dissipate into the span of the sea.
There was soo much water, yet it was soo waterless and without feature.
But Jeongguk knew how he felt when he took daring steps to the edge, close enough for even the briskest of a draft to lull him into the abyss of the killer, the water.
Even after the involuntary jerks of his body when he hung in the air. Jeongguk knew how he felt when he plunged himself off the edge.
Jeongguk definitely knew how he felt when bubbles clouded his ears, when his hair clouded his eyes, salt clouded his taste and water clouded his nose, his lungs even.
But it wasn't when his back fled from the water or when water become one with oxygen that he didn't know how he felt.
But when he was grovelling in the sand, damp and dry, both near and further from the sea. He was being dragged out of the sea, even from the deepest abyss of the ocean, even from the distance he dove and drowned, and that's all it took for him to contemplate how he felt.
He didn't feel multiple manoeuvring hands but Jeongguk did feel the same grovelling grip as last night.
Under the arising sun and under the deepening water, had been the inescapable journey of the last of the thirteen, to visit the arena.
WE WEREN'T WHO WE USED TO BE and we won't forever be who we are.
——————————————- + i'm not sure if i like this chapter but it's something. + now that they're all in the arena... + vote or comment something please idk if people like this or find it boring or if they're improvements to be made, please judge. + none of these backstories anymore, we're going into their present experience, of the ...
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🌷✨I might be experimenting with my style for a while. I wanna practice on some realistic proportions and i don't think it was that bad. I'm probably gonna use procreate more often cuz it has a better blending tool. Btw,, plz give me tips on how i can improve plz. especially on the nose cuz i gave up on that✨🌷
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🌷Idol: #parkjihyo
✨Group: #twice
💧listen to perfect world cuz jihyo slayed it
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🌷Repost w/Credit
✨Materials: iPad 7th Gen, Apple Pen 1st Gen, Procreate
💧Time Taken: 5hrs14mins
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAYEON
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY JEONGYEON
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ଓ: Lockscreen Twice (nachaeng)⁺ ᭡
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