June 3, 2013
33 notes
They’ll both probably get into trouble for ditching class later, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made, and Chanyeol would definitely rather spend an hour making out with Jongin in the back of the school library than sit through a boring lecture about mathematics.
??? WHY ANG??
(via tumble-like-a-buffalo)
April 18, 2013
833 notes
![cakegege:
ayohexo:
game of thrones!au night’s watch jongin!
do not edit or repost
surprisingly, it’s the direwolf that seems to adopt jongin rather than the other way around.
[[MORE]]
the scouting party he’d been a part of had been attacked by wildings not even a day’s distance from the Wall. much too close, jongin thinks. something’s bring them south. something bad.
they’d been tracking the group of wildings (as much as anything can be tracked in blowing snow) when jongin was distracted by a set of huge animal prints pressed deep into the snowpack. each print was the size of his own hand when he crouched down to measure, and then there was a shout up ahead, and the sound of clashing metal cut through the snowy air.
the ambush had been bloody, and jongin survived by pure luck, really. he’d been slightly behind the rest of the party when the wildings had come out from behind a snow bank, and when one of them had noticed jongin and gone for his neck, a limb, bloody and already half-buried in snow, tripped him, giving Jongin time to draw his own sword.
before he managed to strike, a big black wolf barreled in from behind him, snarling, and tore the wilding’s throat out. jongin shuddered when the blood spattered and the body fell to the ground.
the wolf had turned to him then, nose wet and red, and god, direwolves were huge, the wilding had never stood even a fraction of a chance. the wolves’ eyes were yellow, like golden lamps in the drifting snow, and jongin had imagined for a moment that he could see the end of his life in them, the yells of the others barely piercing his fear as he stumbled back with his sword out in front as though to protect himself.
but then the wolf had turned, letting out a blood-curdling howl and pushing off the snow with its massive paws. jongin watched as it disappeared into the white, black coat dimming to gray and then nothingness. by the time he had looked away, the all the other men of the watch were lying dead in the snow.
every time jongin closes his eyes now, he can see zitao’s own lifeless eyes looking back up at him, the blood still spilling from his chest nauseatingly bright as it iced over on the ground.
his furs and cloak keep him from freezing, but his heart aches as he trudges through the snow, looking for a place that might shelter him from the wind, at least for a while. jongin’s ears are ringing.
the nights back on the Wall had been cold, too, but he had always had zitao to warm his bed, stretches of his skin, tan even in the sunless North, and so smooth under jongin’s fingers, his mouth. but it wouldn’t be now, now that zitao is dead.
through the snow, jongin thinks he sees something, a dark spot. he squints, and it’s a cave, a hollow from the wind. pulling his cloak tighter around himself, jongin ducks inside.
his heart leaps into his throat when he sees two glowing eyes staring back at him through the darkness. it’s the black direwolf from before, nose licked clean of the wilding’s blood, and what little light is coming from outside the cave shines on the wolves’ teeth, illuminating them and catching the sharp edges.
a few moments pass in silence, and the wolf doesn’t move to attack him. instead, its head lowers, resting on its front paws, and it lets out a little sighing snort of air, as though scoffing at him.
jongin isn’t sure if it’s strange for the wolf to be alone, since they’re usually pack animals, but another one is the last thing he wants, so he discards the thought.
the wind is howling past the opening of the cave, and the feeling is only just beginning to come back into jongin’s fingers. it’s probably just as likely that he’ll die of the cold out in the open as being mauled by a direwolf, and so jongin allows himself to curl up, back to one of the walls, and his face pressed into his knees.
his eyes close, and zitao’s dead eyes are waiting, looking blindly up at him, and his throat closes up. jongin mashes his fists against his eyes to stop the prickling tears, but he can’t help the choked sob from echoing, baffling around against the ice.
zitao had never liked scouting. once, while they were tangled together under the covers of jongin’s bed, he’d admitted that he had nightmares of being caught in a blizzard, unable to find his way home, but he didn’t like knowing jongin was out without him, and so he always came along anyway. the guilt is crawling up his throat like sickness, chest sore, and jongin clenches his teeth.
something wet touches his cheek, and he flinches, head jerking up. yellow eyes are far too close. the direwolf’s nose right next to jongin’s face, sniffing busily. he knows he should feel afraid, but there’s something about those eyes…
even though they haven’t been seen below the Wall in centuries, every child knows how intelligent direwolves are, as smart as any human, and right now, jongin can see it. it’s almost as if it knows what he’s lost.
this cave is much to big to house just one wolf, jongin thinks. maybe this one wasn’t always alone.
for some reason, this direwolf had saved his life.
jongin’s fingers aren’t shaking when he reaches out and lightly touches the top of the direwolf’s head. the black coat is silky soft, and the wolf presses its head up into his palm. then, it sniffles at him, nudging him with its nose again.
“alright, alright,” jongin says, standing. the direwolf is just as huge as he remembered, nose brushing his chest.
even if every time he blinks, jongin still sees zitao’s face, he can do this.
grasping his sword, jongin uses his free hand to pull his furs tight around his neck. he’ll find those wildings alone if he has to. he won’t stop until he sees their blood spilled on the snow.
the direwolf eyes his sword and bares its teeth, incisors the size of fingers waiting to tear through flesh, and jongin thinks, he can do this, they can do this.
together, jongin and the direwolf step out of the cave, the black of the wolf’s coat and jongin’s furs slowing fading to gray, and then to nothingness in the blowing snow.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/d9ce8b94f1db944e54025634ca07445b/tumblr_mko8rrOOEt1rh13r8o1_500.png)
