#but I think this one was easier bc of the surrounding times that created it
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🪄💎🌈🕯
Let's Get REAL Fanfic Writer Asks
Putting part of this under a read more as I do talk about IkePri spoilers (specifically for Leon's route) as well as some potentially upsetting material.
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🪄: what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you’ve finished a fic?
Sleep or find something distracting to do to let the fic sink in. I know, I know, I preach 'don't look at the numbers, it's not a measure of your skill as a writer, they don't even matter that much in the grand scheme of things.'
And yet… I'll still refresh the page to watch the numbers go up. Yep, I'll confess to doing it. Thus why I try to make it a habit to post later in the day (sometimes before bed time) so that I can stop myself from letting those numbers get to me.
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💎: why is writing important to you?
Because, without it, I wouldn't have a voice.
Ever since I was a kid, I've always struggled with verbal communication. I don't talk a lot verbally and, though it has gotten better with time and practice, it still doesn’t feel like it's where I would want it to be. With writing, I don't have to worry about verbal ticks, volume, diction, or word stumbling. With writing, I can be as clear and concise as I want to be, plus the added bonus of creating stories.
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🌈: is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?
A New Resident was hard because it was the first time I'd done a birthing scene, plus trying to balance vampire lore and having 4 characters interacting at the same time without trying to leave out anyone. Sebastian was originally going to be in it too, as a sort of mouthpiece to figure out the vampire lore, but I switched him out for Arthur more for his experience as a doctor and I felt bad for just using Sebas as a prop and not giving him much to do. All he would have been doing was be a receiving piece for Comte and Leonardo, so his role got significantly cut down to make Arthur more the one asking questions.
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🕯: was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn’t think it would take you?
Name ended up in a different place than where it started, mostly due to time constraints (it was originally a Fictober entry from last year). At first, I wanted to expand upon Leon's interactions with the original Fourth Prince (and to put my own spin on it by changing the Fourth Prince's gender), but though I did make some attempts to write what happened between the two of them, again, due to time constraints, I ended up going with Leon telling the story to his daughter, which, admittedly, is a bit more of a boring approach, but I still think it's a cute little story as is.
#meme thingys#ask me things#other options I considered for the works that made me struggle but it would be hard to tell:#the Comte x reader fic where she passes away in the end#I've done death in fics before#heck in my ygo days there was one fic I did that was set in a post-apocalyptic world#and some minor characters were mentioned to have died from exposure to the elements so there's that#same fic even has one of the main characters going berserk bc the enemy had found his mom's corpse and they were basically destroying it#then the main character viscerally killed the enemy soldiers that had messed up his mom's corpse#it was quite graphic#like damn krys what the hell#BUT back on topic#portraying death in fic#not always easy#but I think this one was easier bc of the surrounding times that created it#aka it was made in 2020 so... yeah...#plus it was a very soft and sweet fic despite its theme#so it wasn't too hard thus why I didnt' talk about it above#another one was the IkeSen x ace reader headcanons list#trying to be considerate of the sexuality#esp when you're still relatively new to it yourself#didn't put it up there as I had forgotten about it and it was already going on long enough so
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OMG I JUST LISTENED TO THE NEWEST EPISODE AND—
Gerry sound so… happy
At first I didn’t recognize his voice and assumed Jonny just named another character Gerry, but then Gertrude was there and…
That all makes me so happy.
AND THEN AN ALICE AND GWEN INTERACTION!!! DYHARD FOR THE WIN!!! SURE THEY WERE AT EACHOTHERS THROATS MOST THE TIME BUT IF YOU SQUINT IT SOUNDS LIKE MILDLY UNHAPPY ROOMMATES!!! THATS BETTER THAN VERY UNHAPPY ROOMMATES!!!!
Ugh, they are so in love. They sound like a toxic st8 couple that’s been married for 50 years and makes ‘ball and chain’ jokes.
GEORGIE GEORGIE GEORGIE GEORGIE GEORGIE!!!!!!!! YAY YAY YAY YAY YAY YAY!!!!
Also the statement seemed like… ok here’s a list of everything I could get from it
“and feelings of the uncanny” (about liminality) (1)
Two things for this quote “it creates an effect of absence despite presence, an ‘architectural hunger’ of a sort.” (4)
“The top of the tower… featured unmatched panoramic views of the surrounding rural countryside on all sides.” (3)
“a soulless fairground,” (regarding the previous area) (2) (4)
“there were less and less people every night.” (2) (4)
“There was a nebulous haze across the entire car park…muted colors punctuated with more vivid reds, whites and yellows… I realized it primarily hovered above the asphalt.” (1) (2) (4)
“the phenomena was accompanied by a disquieting sense of absence. Of hunger.” (4)
“kaleidoscope” (1) (4)
The description of the “You Are Here!” Woman (1)
“a particularly high tide of color swept down the corridor toward me.” (1) (4)
The repeating patrons of the Restaurant (1)
The Void (3) (4)
“Their grip on me tightened, a dozen hands pushing and pulling me as one.” (1) (2)
“opened his mouth, and bit into me.” And the ensuing cannibalism (? Is it really cannibalism if you aren’t human?) (2) (4)
“leaping out one of those windows into pure oblivion” (3) (4)
Okokokokok SO! I’ve put numbers to everything so I can talk about everything easier. (1) The Uncanny (both from The Stranger and The Spiral, they have similar enough vibes to me) (2) The Lonely (3) The Vast (4) The Hunger/The Nothing.
The uncanniness of this statement is undeniable, reminds me of the previous episode actually. It’s also worth a mention that the author constantly denies the validity of anything he says and just thinks he was going through an episode, which could be Spiral coded or just statement stuff. Since everything is copy and pasted that seems closer to that idea but still.
The author keeps talking about the lack of people at the beginning and a particular fixation on how they act (seems very Martin domain core to me). Also fog. And the people stuff reminds me of Mag 48 Lost in a Crowd, the otherness you feel, the loneliness because of it. Maybe this is a cannibalism and animal nature as a metaphor for the ✨horrors of other people✨. That kinda feels like a stretch but it makes sense in my head.
Ahhhh, the call of the void, the fear of uselessness to things that don’t even know you exist. The void is obvious Vast coded, especially with the oblivion comment (imo). I don’t have much to say that I’m not gonna say next but this needed its own section bc the void.
My favorite theory about wtf is happening in this episode that I made the fuck up right here right now. At multiple points in this statement does ‘Hungry’ and ‘Hunger’ come up, specifically when talking about your reaction to a deficit in something. This could also be cannibalism coded, being so desperate for someone, anyone, that they eat the only ones around. Which brings me to the second half, the nothingness. This is mixed with basically all the Lonely and Vast feelings of this statement, a lack of something, be it people, color, etc. This could maybe be something that is trying to be more like sensory deprivation, the more deprived you are the more your brain tries to make things to be less deprived, and the more empty you feel because of it. This episode kinda gives me overwhelming feels too? Like when everything is too much and too little at the same time? Overstimulation and understimulation mixing to make the worst thing in the world. Idk
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Honestly I'm interested on how Yoo Joonghyuk and Woo Jin Chul would get together and what their relationship dynamic would be like. A preserved and independent man who happens to get agitated a lot when a certain sacrificing man named Kim Dokja is around X a workaholic and peacemaker man for strong and powerful people. Of course, that's not how I intirely see them as, I just kinda see their dynamic in that way lol. Jin Chul would certainly just step infront of Joonghyuk when it looks like the man is about to slash Dokja apart like a samurai in DvDs (my attempt to rant like a tumblr person /j I could not get anymore creative than this). That is, if Joonghyuk already has feelings for him or they're already in a relationship. If he doesn't or they aren't in a relationship yet, Joonghyuk would attempt to hurt Jin Chul just to get to Dokja (to punch the man ofc), not knowing Jin Chul is capable of slowing him down/stunning him. It's not even serious, Dokja is just being stupid and Joonghyuk is also being stupid but Jin Chul would rather have their surroundings intact and clean so he ends the bickering quickly. Idk Joonghyuk takes interest in him yada yada Woo Jin Chul gains a bf (Yoo Joonghyuk) and I'm going to sleep (I SHOULD BE ASLEEP RN). But on an additional note, I wanna create an AU with these mfs. SL x ORV. I'm not that creative or good at writing but I'd be brainstorming and I'd enjoy it, so imma make one (if I had time). With Sung Jin Woo x Kim Dokja as well, but the endgame will be Sung Jin Woo x Woo Jin Chul and Kim Dokja x Yoo Joonghyuk. Idk maybe they're exes, maybe they're idiots (they are /affectionately), maybe they– honestly idk LMAO. Imma search for inspiration and stuff so I can write these pairings that would make sense lol. I am... yapping. I'm so sorry— (I would like to read what you think of the pairings Yoo Joonghyuk x Woo Jin Chul and Kim Dokja x Sung Jin Woo, if you're not comfortable or don't want to write about it, that's okay! Delete this right away if you want)
Personally I was never a big fan of Dokja and Jinwoo, but Its not like I disliked it either. It is a popular ship and im glad a lot of people on ao3 like it, (not only beacuse the ship managed to keep SL one alive, but also because the ideas of the characters and world had been expanded through those fics. And bc it is a beneficial way for fans to interact with more manhwa, especially since the anime has come out. Also SL is not that strong on worldbuilding so the writers have an easier way to complement all of their magic systems and lore into the other story without much problem. I think its part of SL's charm that crossovers ships and fics exist more than just being a self contained fandom like most are. Best way I can put it is that SL acts more like a soda, you can have it for yourself or with other foods, but most of the time you see it with other foods. Also the side characters, as someone on ao3 puts it, are free real state. To most who use it, they are pretty much like dolls whose personality definatly ranges but als onot much to make you think its completely differnt person.) I got introduced to ORV that way, kinda, and well sadly I havent fnished the tory tho I got easily spoiled by like everything, so my characterizations for Joonghyuk and Dokja might be a little skewed, ooc even *gasp*.
Anyways as for how I would think about it. From first time I do agree with a lot of your ideas, and if you wanna write then go ahead! I think it will turn out to be fun!
Jinchul and joonghyuk is a pair I thought I saw once during my fanfic hunt ( and im sure of it that it existed... somewhere =_=) but defiently a new concept for sure. I do feel pity for Jinchul having become this side character who will be put in the place of constant death for the sake of kim dokja. Oh, although considering how protective jinwoo is over his love ones ( and the protagonist halo he has) it wouldnt be a bad idea overall to put him as a sacrifice since the moment that happens Jinwoo comes back to rescue him with the power he has on him. Psychopathic for all of them but it fits them.
(omg just imaginig the cycles of Dokja trying to find a solution by killing himself, Yoo jooonghyuk saying it should be Jinchul instead, jinchul actually trying to find a solution that doesnt involve ANYONE dying because god is he the only one with braincells. and then jinwoo just raising his hand up like, you know my power is dying right? like I can do this instead.)
Depending on what world we are talking about, their situations would def be vary as well. Dokja and Yoo Joonhyuk in SL world, alongside Jinwoo, would probably the most dangeorus things Jinchul has to deal with on a daily basis because of how much they keep filing for property damage. Joonhyuk and Jinwoo would always like to one up each other me thinks, while Dokja would likely be more insterested in the gates and their ecosystems, what stories could they tell and where they could come from. He would proably be the most chill with Jinchul, maybe even sharing a lot of information with him about monsters and magical items.
As for how jinchul and jinwoo would work in the Orv setting. WEll for one i dont think the pairs can seperate. Both Jinwoo and Jinchul, just like Dokja and Joonghyuk are like, bonded stray cats, not sorry. They could go for hours at a time doing their own things but they will damn well find each other back. This probably makes it easier then for Jinchul to make out a plan for his 'sacrifice' to be stopped midway when Jinwoo decides to appear with so much plot armor you think he'd be a constellation. I also like the idea of Jinchul finding out through context cllue that like, Dokja had read the whole story of what might happen in the future and being the only one to confront him about it. It would be cool to see if Jinchul can also challenge Dokja's vision of needing to sacrifice himself, (especially when he already has one suicidal hero on the bag and dont need another one). If it were to me I would try to put Jinchul's detective skills /and his way of dealing with powerful people like s ranks) at work since it would be fun if someone saw past Dokja's hero persona easily, slowly peeling it away to reveal someone who is way too traumatized by possible past events that he might just start doing some things to self destruct.
I dont know how to put it into words as well, but Jinchul being the most realistic person out there --not a sidehero, not an op protagonist or a damsel or a femme fatale. Not one of the characters in his book and not one of the readers or the people who adore him. He is as human as he can be. Having flaws and weaknesses more than everyone, but having his own niche strenghts as well. Not being able to be understood by Dokja unless he actively tries to get closer, and even then jinchul would know more about him than Dokja knows about the other.
Oh right what this wasnt a dokja and jinchul post, forget that (forgive me but dokja needs someone around his age that is like, a friend to him more in a casual way than the 'devoted loyal will always be there for you and kill for you' kind of way that he has with the rest of the kimcom. They are not bad by ANY means, its just that watching Dokja trying to befriend someone without the need to prove his worth, or just meet, in an apocalypse (or start one) would be healthy for him. It would also be funny if Jinchul is overall too tired with work to care that theres a whole ass apocalypse going down. Dude's "im not cut out for this" and "fuck that" getting him out of drama situations.
Jinwoo is there. I dont know what to make of him, surprisingly. He is that plot armor that everyone desperatly needs, but sadly he is out there hunting other weird ass monsters and probably hijacking the whole system that the dokkabei have. Jinchul and Jinwoo in prv could serve as awesome narrative foils, one acts as the most generic protagonist one could ever meet, and the other acts as so human to the point that its scary. Jinwoo would always be that stepping stone that Joonghyuk has to overcome (and maybe does a lot of the times, maybe he doesnt reach the perfection state like jinwoo does, protagonist halos are weird) And Joonghyuk will try to gain some information about him through Jinchul, whenever he is not using him for sacrifices against humanity. Jinchul of course might use that info as a bargain to get dokja out of certain trouble (which could also gethte other a headache bc agh nothing is going to plan!) and powerup jinwoo instead. When no one is going at each others throats, it would be fun for jinwoo and joonghyuk to interact and share stuff about their younger sisters-
HOLD, kyung hye needs to meet kim dokja she would solve like 65% of whatever is wrong with him my senses tell me its true CONTINUE
Over the coure of many shitty things happening once the fights with the contellations start, I think Joonghyuk might rely more of Jinchul to get them out of situations and regard him as a more respectable ally to be around (especially when he comes with the bonus of a living embodiment of a death god in the background) and Jinchul could learn to put Joonghyuk in check before he goes on a killing spree because of Dokja's death.
I will have to catch up on orv's ln to get more about this four, but the idea was certainly fun, so thanks for oversharing your thoughts!
#god i got dokja and jinchul brainrot i hate myself#get me the bleach sis before i consume orvvjust have platonic middle age crisis men becoming friends in the apocalypse#solo leveling#sung jin woo#woo jin chul
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hmm... how about doing tarot for some of the Saerans? Assuming I could grab one of my decks before going to Magenta or if I already had one on me. I figure Ray would have no context for any of it. Suit would probably try to grab them to get a reaction out of me bc you do NOT touch the cards without permission!!!! you're gonna fuck up the energy!!!!! I'm gonna have to cleanse and recharge them now!!!!!! Do!!!!!! Not!!!!! TOUCH!!!!!!! (Tho honestly, Suit's Vibes(tm) would probably muddy them up just from being in the room). Figure GE Saeran would be ready to see and learn just about anything, especially if it's one of my interests, tho I wonder how he'd feel about spiritual stuff.
Ray would have no clue about tarot. Mint Eye is a cult based around Catholicism, or at the very least, Rika's trauma surrounding it. That's something that makes a point of making itself known many times not only to the player but to anyone who... has the misfortune of being in that building for a single second. But, it wouldn't take long for him to understand the concept. To him, he would see it as a means of trying to tell your future, and nothing more.
But, the way your eyes light up and you find yourself at ease when you're shuffling your cards? It makes him curious. He wants to learn more about this craft so he can listen to you talk about it. That's how he engages with all of your interests. It doesn't matter if it wouldn't be something he'd consider interesting for himself, no, what matters the most to him is that it means something to you... so, he wants to learn so you don't have to explain yourself a million times. You deserve the talking partner of the ages that helps you feel seen.
But, the problem area for him would be his struggle to believe in the readings you give. What if you get a reading that's harsh? He doesn't want you to think the future is filled with pain. He struggles to accept that tarot doesn't just tell you good news, it warns, scolds, and does a lot more when you ask for it or need to hear it. Apart from that, he's a super avid listener and learner!
Suit Saeran's vibes are not going to help his case. He is filled to the brim with energy that already isn't helping him, and it certainly isn't going to help you or the cards out. The problem with him is easier to locate, though. You've got a good point that his instinct would be to grab the deck if he could. He wouldn't want you to "have the ability to read your future and see something positive". He understands that a deck of these cards makes a difference in your life, and he would be jealous of that peace.
You don't deserve peace after what happened to Ray... That's just the way he sees it. The secondary problem would be if he humored you... if he asked for a reading just like the ones you gave Ray. We all know he would get read for filth and it would piss him off. What would even happen in that instance apart from him shoving the cards off the top of the table before he leaves you locked up in your room for hours. It doesn't matter what your cards said, he is the strongest and he won't be swayed by "nonsense".
He's going to be disrespectful as a given... but, he'll try to make up for that later, even if damage is already done.
GE Saeran wants to support your hobbies. He has a... rough time with religion but that's not going to be a problem in him supporting whatever you believe. He needs time to figure out what feels right to him spiritually, and that means he's going to learn a lot about the rest of the world and how they engage with religion. It would actually do a lot of good for him to talk to you about what you believe, and see you practice tarot!
He has a lot of sincere questions and while it might be a little naive or clumsy...
He means well.
Saeran wants to understand you better so he understands more about what he ultimately wants to believe in. The sweet thing about him is that he'd ask if it would be okay to help you create a new deck of tarot with his help... after all, "Isn't this more powerful when you've had a hand in creating the cards, my love?" It'll give him a chance to draw different things and that's never a bad thing. He takes readings that you give him with care, too. it matters to him.
#pastelsapphy#character analysis#mystic messenger#mm#mysme#mysticmessenger#ray choi#choi ray#suit saeran#saeran choi#choi saeran#ge saeran#saeray#saeran#saeran mysme#saeran mm#saeran mystic messenger#mystic messenger saeran#mm saeran#mysme saeran#mod kait#ask
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Transition Update #65: One week post-op phallo (part 1) Cliff Notes
Hey what's up it's your recently bedicked boy. I'm sleepy but I like having these records for both myself and others so I'm gonna do some bullet points. This is gonna be very casual.
I had my first post-op yesterday but I have another one in a week so I'm gonna talk about both of them together.
As a reminder here's the phallo stage list (this ref is a lot easier than me trying to re-explain what they did, bc I am not a surgeon and idk what the official names of any of this is called). Italicized stages are completed stages.
Stage 0: hysto and partial vgectomy (done back in January)
Stage 1: meta, UL creation, complete vgectomy, “tee up” stage 2 so I can spend as little time on the table as possible
Stage 2: take the graft and create the phallus
Stage 3: scrotoplasty, glandsplasty, finish UL
Stage 4: erectile device, finish scrotoplasty and glandsplasty
I am technically 10 days post-op but eh it's basically the same. I spent three nights in the hospital before they discharged me. I've been home for almost a week now and I'm happy to be here. The nurses and hospital staff overall treated me very nicely and I had as positive an experience as I think you can have in a hospital.
I am able to stand and walk around on my own but not for very long. I get fatigued if I'm not able to rest for most of the day. Sitting is still very painful so I am usually standing (infrequently) or lying down/slouching in bed.
Overall I'm not in a lot of pain and I've been managing my pain mainly through a lot of advil and tylenol.
I have a catheter and I've had one since day 1. It's coming out next week so that'd be 16 days post op. The catheter doesn't hurt very much if I maneuver it into the correct place but I like to be able to hold the catheter bag myself and empty it myself bc I know how to do it in a way that isn't painful.
My body has not somatically caught up w the fact that I have a dick yet. It took it a few days to realize that I didn't have my other parts anymore. My pelvic floor muscles were very confused and were involuntarily contracting a lot the first 48 hrs which was unpleasant but they've since stopped. Most of the time it kinda feels like I have nothing. I'm wondering if the catheter is also party of the reason for that.
The surgical team says I'm healing super well and on the faster side, which is awesome to hear.
I got to see my dick for the first time yesterday and it was super cool! It looks like a dick!! (Like a pre-puberty dick but that's kind of what they were going for to tee up the rest of the phallo). I did not have a true metadioplasty. I had a partial meta and full vgectomy but they left a lot of the surrounding external tissue from the old parts to help with the next stage (I believe). If I had a true meta everything would be much more dick-like.
The surgical team also says my UL went super well and once they take the catheter out they said I can try peeing standing up!! Which is so cool!!!!
The gender euphoria has not set in yet bc of all the medical stuff that is sort of interfering with my ability to relearn my body. I was warned by friends this would happen so I'm trying to take it in stride.
Anyway that's all folks.
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1 and 14 for the ask game please!
1. Show your most recent wip
Well. That would be a redraw I'm doing of a piece from the summer bc Rory's design has changed a lot LMAO I haven't started anything "new" yet!!
OC art gets posted to @digirhys bc I keep this acct just for fanworks!✌🏻 so that's where the final for this will go (a cropped version at least. The full will go on cohost)
14. How has your art changed over the years?
Oh boy. In almost every way possible, I think!! Save that I am still keenly focused on character art, from my love of storytelling :0
From a technical aspect my art has of course changed and improved tremendously from when I started drawing when I was still single digits lol the inevitable outcome of never really Stopping Drawing :V
I don't have records of old traditional art as much, so the oldest art I have that isn't toddler art was from when I was around 11-12 – those aren't these lol but I started using dA when I was a young teen, so I have those as archives of what I was doing digitally (the left group of drawings are from that first dA acct, as far back as when I was 14 :Y
I think on the more con/critical side of things, my creativity has been severely stunted. In part I think that's a natural progression of thinking as I've aged, but one I know can be combated! It just takes an active effort and approach to work creativity and whimsy like a muscle, and that's something I know I haven't done a great job of :'3
It's bittersweet looking at old art where I can see how much fun I was having and how there were no inhibitions, no worrying about things being OP or cringe or "Mary sue". It's heartwarming being able to see that passion in my own art, and simultaneously i feel a bit guilty n ashamed that I've let a lot of it get worn out of me by Life, in part by things out of my control;;;;;
It is DIFFICULT to throw those cares aside again! Almost all of the storytelling I used to do was in collaboration with friends I fell out with, and it was a bit of a slap in the face to realize last year/during 2023 that I never really told stories or built characters on my own, and it's been hard for me to find that joy and passion. I loved what I was doing with friends and miss that feeling of community, but I think it's important and I want to learn how to create and tell stories primarily for myself now, too. What's been most difficult initially is fighting against a feeling of embarrassment just while simply brainstorming – it was a lot easier to throw caution to the wind and just revel in the Fun of Creating Whatever when surrounded by ppl making things with me with the same abandon!! TTwTT when we're all having a good time who cares if anyone else thinks it's silly, yanno?
I haven't quite figured it out, but that's one of my goals this year. I love doing fan stuff too when the inspiration strikes but I definitely want to put more energy into working on My Art, and figuring out what stories I want to tell and the characters involved. I think it'll be a big step, making the effort to make that shift, in helping to further heal my relationship w art in general and continuing to relearn how to love it and the messy, sometimes frustrating processes :'3
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this or that? tag game
I wasn’t tagged but I’m tagging along with @rownanisntwriting who left the floor open :) You can read their answers here!
historical or futuristic
The fantasy genre has been so dominated by Tolkien that I basically default to historical settings. It requires a lot of googling since I’m not the kind of person that really cares about history, oddly enough. I try to balance being somewhat accurate and hoping the reader is more invested in the events than the setting :’)
I think another part of it is that I don’t feel very confident in my ability to design futuristic technologies; whenever I try, I end up trying to draw my own blueprints and getting lost in the sauce. I find it more comfortable to rely on stuff that has already existed so I can focus on my blorbos
the opening or closing chapter
Oh my GOD how I love beginnings! I get to seduce the reader and oh how I like to play coy.
Closing chapters are wonderful in their own right, but it’s a goodbye. I poured my heart and soul into this piece and I never want it to end. Sometimes I actually cry
light & fluffy or dark & gritty
As much as I try to surround myself with nice, pleasant things, all of my work has to include a heavy dose of grit and strife to get that sweet, sweet payoff of relief.
Yes, I’m that guy who puts their blorbos in situations just for the narrative
animal companion or found family
You really made me choose.
It’s in my DNA to create a cast of characters that complement each other. There’s something so compelling about someone feeling like a black sheep, and then meeting people that show them love in a way they’ve never felt before. And that’s probably an insight about me but we won’t talk about that
horror or romance
Well I’m currently writing a romance…
Both genres can have a similar structure of suspenseful buildup. I just prefer the release of a romance climax hehe to a horror one. I feel that I can be far more self-indulgent, too >:}
hard magic system or soft magic system
There need to be rules
I often feel like soft magic systems are a copout but don’t take personally bc I know they have their place it’s just my silly little opinion
standalone or series
Whenever I start a standalone it always turns into something more whether I like it or not. I’m either too attached to the world or the characters — or both — to let them rest. I have to keep poking around in there…
one project at a time or always juggling 2+
Bruh I have so many. But I’m only actively working on one at a time.
one award winner or one bestseller
Awards don’t mean anything to me.
I’d much rather my work reach a wide audience that enjoys my story <3 also awards can’t buy me a new couch
fantasy or sci-fi
DRAGONS AND WEREWOLVES AND VAMPIRES AND HIPPOGRIFFS AND MAGIC ALL DAY BABYYYYYY
character description or setting description
I’m trying to be better, but describing people has always been tough for me. “He’s tall with blond hair and has the correct amount of limbs. Also he’s wearing clothes.”
Whereas describing a setting I find it much easier to delve right into the mood.
Realistically the two aren’t so different — something in my mind just blanks when I’m trying to tell you what a person look like. I think part of me wants the reader’s imagination to fill in the blanks; your image of the villain based on his demeanour, dialogue, and actions is the most compelling version.
first draft or final draft
Again — I have a hard time with goodbyes!
The first draft is filled with emotion: frustration, enthusiasm, novelty, disappointment, desperation, epiphany! The roller coaster is not an easy one to ride, but dear god it makes me feel alive
love triangle in everything or no romantic arcs
…I love a love triangle, but in everything? No, there are too many ideas and concepts to explore than has nothing to do with romance.
But I mean, it would be funny to insert a love triangle in every work. It would be a running gag. It doesn’t have to be the main characters — make it some tertiary characters. If I had a following, I would go feral waiting for my readers to guess who would be in the triangle this time
constant sandstorm or rainstorm
I think a constant rainstorm would be kind of dreary in a setting but having to think about how crusty a sandstorm is would make my skin itch. I couldn’t possibly endure
We’re at the end! I also don’t have anyone in mind to tag, so if you’re up for it tag me in your responses! :)
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I DIDNT SEE THE OC ASK POST ORZ
for ezekial and luther 1,2,28 .... and ykw fuck it 11
Do they have any motifs?
Luther has 2 kinda. One was a little intentional the other just kinda came as a bonus. His main one is like, angelic imagery. That’s mostly from one of the first scenes of the story I came up with, where Ezekial is first brought to see Luther, who’s standing above him with light shining from behind him, and that with his hair kind of creates a halo kind of look and Ezekial remarks to himself that he looks like an angel. And yk, that whole like, white/light blue being angelic/pure idea with his color palette also kinda reflects that, which is both reflective and subversive to his character. Reflective in that it shows how he likes to be extremely clean and put together, but subverts how he’s involved with very dark things. His other motif only just occurred to me, that being space/moons. His planet and moon earrings weren’t really meant to be anything more than a cool design choice, but I realized that a lot of scenes I’ve pictured where he’s more vulnerable and open are at night and/or under the moonlight, so that motif has become a bit important to his character. You could also definitely draw some sun and moon imagery with him and Ezekial from that.
Ezekial doesn’t really have concrete motifs in the same way Luther does. There’s a couple reoccurring ideas that surround him, like scarring, loneliness, and loyalty, but I haven’t really given him strong specific motifs. I guess the main one that you could argue for that I’ve been thinking about lately is kind of like, wearing over time. That applies to the story and their dynamic at large, but specifically with Ezekial, there’s a lot of focus with him having to accept that things are not the same as they once were, as well as visually, his design changes and wears with time, both with him getting more and more scars and with his clothes gradually becoming more scuffed and dirty with the more experience he has. This also juxtaposes Luther, whose design is very clean and sharp and put together.
Describe their voice. Do they have a voice claim?
I always struggle finding voice claims for my characters bc I have such a specific vision in my head that nothing feels completely right for them, but I’ll try to get as close as I can.
For Ezekial, my first thought was Aoba from the beastars dub (I think. I was specifically thinking of the “hey, legoshi already knows her name!” line and I’m pretty sure that’s aoba but idk). Looking up a couple voices, I think also a bit of Ash from fantastic mr fox, though very slightly lower for both of those. Also also a smiiiidge of mk from lmk. Just a bit. The idea for him is to have a voice that’s very smooth and nice, pretty average tbh, and usually very bright but occasionally able to slip into a darker tone. Idk though, I feel like he’s really hard to place and I don’t even know if I really like any of these all that much for him, but it’s the best I got 😭
Luther’s voice I imagine closer to the lower end but also not particularly deep, very soft and level, kind of that back of the throat kind of sound. It’s really dumb but specifically I thought of that one clip that’s like “SHUT UP. SHUT UP. IM GONNA KILL THE NEXT PERSON I SEE I SWEAR TO GOD” but JUST for him yelling. The line I was imagining him saying in that tone was “Don’t you get it!?” and it works oddly well. Otherwise, it’s kinda like a mix between lilac cookie’s eng voice and sal fisher. Another one I found specifically looking at voice claim compilations that’s random as fuck is Wesley Gibson from wanted??? no idea who that is or what that’s about but I think his voice fits really really well for Luther.
Are they a dog or a cat person?
Ezekial likes both and he wouldn’t be able to choose, though probably leans a little more to dogs.
Luther you’d think would be more of a cat person, given his everything, but he actually prefers dogs because they’re easier to train and more obedient. He doesn’t dislike cats though.
Have they ever fallen in love and with whom?
I mean, there is a LOT of longing between these two, especially on Ezekial’s end. He’s been in love Luther since they were really young but I think he didn’t really realize that for a long time. At some point it kinda registered for him but even then I don’t think he ever really said it out loud to himself. It was never really some big revelation or anything, just kind of putting a word to a feeling that’s always been there.
And I’m not gonna lie and say the feeling isn’t reciprocated, but that’s something Luther hasn’t thought about in years and still hasn’t yet to really understand himself. The mix of emotional suppression and catholic guilt made a cocktail of self denial and inability to really accept that thought when he was younger, and in the present it’s far worse and far more repressed, and he has a long way to go before anything begins to change with that.
It’s actually interesting because this is also a scene I thought of pretty recently. After their reunion, once the tension has settled past the initial Luther-being-willing-to-kick-Ezekial-across-the-floor-without-a-second-glance phase, one of the conversations they end up having is Ezekial asking Luther if he’s dated anyone since he last saw him, to which Luther respond “I don’t think you could really call it that.” He asks the same question back at Ezekial and Ezekial responds “Yeah, I don’t think those really count either.” And that surprises Luther and he give a little “Huh.” And Ezekial asks what that’s about but Luther just says it’s none of his concern (really he’s surprised because Ezekial’s always kinda been a romantic, and he’s dated a couple people before when they were younger. “And I mean, Ezekial’s an attractive guy, and he would probably be a good partner, how has he not had any good relationships since high school?” (<- clueless))
#oc#they are so stupid#falls on the floor and dies#yeah man seeing ur old best friend for the first time in years and your first thought being how angelic he looks is totally norm n not gay#ezekial and luther
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[meta] What are your muses closest relationships, good and bad. And how do they define who your muse was, is, and will become?
[meta] Cass is very good at carving out close relationships for herself, aided by her unconscious tendency to use her abilities to sense what a person needs and then become that thing. She has a habit of overcompensating for the loneliness she felt growing up by surrounding herself with meaningful relationships, which isn’t a bad thing at all, but it does mean this is going to be a long list, so we’re gonna pop a readmore on this one!
Levi and Marina both kind of stepped in as ‘parental’ type figures for Cass. They both work to make her feel unconditionally loved in a way she never really did before White Crest, and their acceptance of her goes a long way to heal the wounds left by her biological parents’ abandonment of her. I do think we’ll inevitably see some kind of tension here given their differences in morality, and I think it’ll be fun to see Cass caught between family and morals because it’s not something she’s ever really had to choose between before.
Metzli is the first person Cass built a meaningful relationship with in White Crest, though it’s definitely something that took some time to build up. They’re the one who taught Cass about the supernatural world, which undoubtedly saved her life bc girl was out here fighting ‘crime’ without knowing that most crime in White Crest is supernatural related :/ Metzli was the first person Cass adopted as part of her found family, and having them as an older sibling figure has shown her how and when to ask for help and accept that help! Metzli also showed her that you can be what someone needs without disappearing in the process, and that’s so important for Cass who, up until meeting Metzli, absolutely buried pieces of herself to make herself easier for people to like.
Correy is a lot like the fun, grumpy uncle Cass never knew she was missing. They got off on the wrong foot, and she probably wouldn’t have made any kind of an effort to change that if not for his friendship with Marina and Levi, but now that she’s gotten to know him and wormed her way into his heart, she’s glad for it.
Teddy is the stepbrother Cass never wanted :/ Sorry Ted. At this point in time, she definitely views him as a ‘threat’ to the family she’s created. She has a lot of issues surrounding the concept of being ‘replaceable’ that go back to her time in foster care, and Teddy’s presence and his importance to Levi particularly stir up a lot of this. She liked Teddy before she knew about his connection to Levi, but now she’s mostly just afraid of him. She views him as the thing with the biggest potential to destroy the ‘family’ she’s carved out for herself by taking her spot in it, and it’s going to take time for her to warm up to him and recognize that there’s room for them both. She’s like a 2 year old whose mom just had a new baby :/ those are supposed to be HER toys and HER people, tf is this baby doing here?
Jonas gave Cass a job and allowed her to take the first steps in the journey of shifting away from crime... which is going to be a slow journey because she does still think crime is kind of fun, low key. Jonas took a pretty big chance on her and she’d be grateful for it even if he didn’t go on to become a very good friend on top of that, but he did. I think Cass’s initial intention was to manipulate Jonas... and maybe steal, like, a couple things from his shop... but she quickly changed her mind at his gentle treatment of her. It’ll be fun seeing how their friendship develops now that they both realize the other knows about the supernatural world, and when Cass does eventually feel comfortable enough to tell Jonas what she is, it’ll be soft for her to have someone else who accepts her for it.
Ari is definitely one of Cass’s closest friends, and one of the few people in her life who knows what she is. Ari was one of the first people Cass chose to tell about being a siren, and her getting to make that choice was very important. Ari is also one of the few people who knows that Cass moonlights as a superhero, which was less something Cass chose to tell her and more something that was discovered accidentally, but Cass is glad she knows it now. This friendship is one that’s very much built on mutual respect and love and it’s something they both deserve a lot. Ari’s support is definitely something Cass relies on heavily, and something she’ll continue to rely on as she navigates her life.
Sloane is someone Cass can act like a normal twenty-something around which is so, so important! The way they both know that the other knows about the supernatural even if they never ask how or talk about it directly is very fun, and it will be an Ordeal when the other shoe drops and they both figure out what the other is. Cass’s relationship with Sloane really represents a lot of what she wants out of life, which is someone to hang out with who shares her weird humor and ideas of fun well enough that she can be unapologetically herself without having to worry about whether or not she’s overstaying her welcome.
Macleod is also an important presence in her life, due in part to her relationship with Metzli but also because she’s the only person who really knows in just what way Cass is struggling right now. It’ll be interesting to see, going forward, if Cass allows herself to take advantage of the fact that Macleod knows about her search for ‘redemption’ and what it means for her by leaning on her or if she pushes her away in an attempt to hide her head in the sand, which is something she has a bad habit of doing.
There are definitely more people who are very important to Cass’s development but... for now, we’re going to leave it at this because Cass is a social butterfly and I could go on for hours tbh.
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aya
i've been thinking that i should get more involved in aya stuff and address my own issues surrounding my cancer. i've really been pushing aside feelings and not making the time or space to reflect on it. it's really easy for me to do. i have lots of friends and tv and books to fill my time with. it's much easier to get lost in a story than in my real life. but maybe i shouldn't. it's probs not good in the long run.
idk if im ready to go back to therapy yet. but i was thinking i could start to journal and self reflect more as an alternative.
im also signing up for more aya things. some webinars, yoga, writing prompts.
everyone keeps saying it's good to build a network of people who are aya and can truly understand what you're going thru. i guess. idk. i kinda shout my issues into the void of the internet and get it out that way. but i think writing a real article and getting it posted/published in elephants and tea would be cool.
i've been reading more elephants and tea stories and there are always a few themes that i dont/cant relate to. the main thing is finding a new normal. what's wrong with my old normal. i loved my old normal. and im kinda back at it. with some limitations but those are gonna be gone really soon. it's just meds and follow up appointments. not being in crowded places and stuff. it's not crazy different from what my life used to be like. plus i respawned back to stanford right at Q1 so it's like im redoing last year. i feel very normal too. no symptoms plaguing me. maybe just fatigue and tbh who isn't tired. i donno. i just dont think that i need a new normal. my normal is just fine the way it is.
one of the things that i was really missing that i used to love doing a lot is shopping a westfield valley fair. i looooooved that mall. and it was so fun to go there to decompress after work. i liked shopping for new clothes or just window shopping, walking around, getting a salted pretzel, going to the movies by myself. it was like my therapy. i loved going to the mall alone with my headphones in. and this weekend nathan took me there! it was different than before bc now the construction is done and they make you pay for parking. but the mall is soooooo nice. i still get lost even tho i would go there all the time. there's new shops too. but my all time fav has always and will forever be cotton on. i've been looking at people creating capsule wardrobes of staple basic classic things that they can easily combine with other items in their closet and i realized that i dont have that. but i want to! so i hella splurged. i made a list of the ideal items i wanted and what stores i wanted to hit. everyone loves artizia so i wanted to go there too. but i ended up finding all of the pieces that i wanted at cotton on and a&f. it was wild. when i got home i took out some clothes that i would donate to make room for my new stuff. and the pieces that really stuck around were other shirts and jeans that i got from cotton on in the past. it's really been a great store for me. their jeans are always a great length. their shirts are super soft and slim. i feel confident in their stuff. i usually dont shop at a&f but tiktok has been talking about nonstop. so i went and they had some good items too. i finally got some beige trousers! and a stain black dress. im very excited to wear these.
one thing that i want to do but i know i cant yet is go to more concerts/raves. i wanna dress up and look hot and feel care free and young and enjoy time with my friends. a list:
-portola fest sf
-cochella
-hard summer
-vegas
-outside lands
-lollapaloozaa
i'll try out the journaling more and also the aya events. maybe i'll like it.
gonna try and do more of courtney does too:
let my self feel > notice how im feeling > ID what is causing those feelings
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So I'm getting Invisalign so I figured I'd do a lil weekly update given all my trays are weekly (bar the first, which is two-weekly bc apparently that allows the bones in the mouth time to become accustomed to readjustment and metabolise better for healing or smth fancy)
Disclaimer: this post is longer than upcoming ones as I have to give a bit of history. If you don't care about that bit, skip down to just after the second picture.
So a lil back story is that I have a front tooth moith below the gum line due to a rogue hockey ball and idiot here not wearing a gum guard at 14, so I had a Maryland bridge there that made me super phobic of all my teeth being weak. The bridge was attached to the two adjacent teeth such as the below
And due to my anxiety etc surrounding those teeth, it took the better part of two hours, two dentist opinions on how best to approach, and a lot of drilling to cut the thing apart enough for it to basically pop off. Bc of all of this work, the two adjacent teeth were super bruised, tender and sore, so my experience of the first couple days might not be super relatable. But the rest will, I'm sure. So the gap is filled with a lil composite to create the illusion of a tooth and that's how I have a full mouth of teeth apart from when eating, so that is why Invisalign was such a pro for me, bc the gap is filled for me and gives me 100% more confidence than if I were to have the classic train track braces and just have my gap chilling out in the open.
In addition to all of that, I had had an absolute beating of a hygienist appointment moments before he had to remove the bridge (dental phobic bc of all of the above so I full on avoided a hygienist at all costs for dead they would make my bridge and teeth loose and fall out), so my teeth and gums were also pretty sensitive anyways
Anyway, on to the Invisalign procedure part of this I guess.
So after my teeth were all squeaky clean and prepped, he put a mock-up kind of version of the aligners on to test that they fit (they were snug and felt unpleasant, though this was likely due to the pain and heightened anxiety after two panic attacks that he and the nurse were super supportive through). The he took those out and dried all my teeth with the air blower tool and basically smeared a load of stank ass stuff over the outer surfaces of some of my teeth before putting the dummy retainer on again. This was the process of adding the attachments (the lil 'buttons' of composite that encourage the movement of the teeth at certain angles) to the teeth necessary and then the dental nurse cured it with the blue light. After, they took out the dummy retainer and did the same for the top teeth (with much more pain and tears due to the above work)
Fast forward to me rushing us through the putting in and taking out process due to not wanting to aggravate the bruised teeth and I'm at home sobbing bc I can't get the top aligner out and I have only eaten 900 calories in that and the two days prior to the appointment due to the anxiety (I essentially burnt those calories off in my 10k run day workout the day before, so I was hella tired/in pain/exhausted/running on fumes) and I end up travelling back to the dentist and he basically forced me to take them out and put them back in again until I was comfortable (as could be through the years of pain on the bruised teeth) doing so
Basically: do not leave your dentist until you are confident in taking your aligners out and putting them in.
Tips for removing:
Wash your hands thoroughly!
Hook your nails under the tray lip to remove (I don't think the remover tools are worth wasting money on unless you have nails that have been bitten back so badly that they don't protrude from the finger)
Try to curve the aligner off of the outer edges of the teeth (so essentially pull gently towards your cheek as you pull up at the same time) as this will amke them come off easier as you won't be fighting against the attachments (also reducing the likelihood of a lost attachment and additional dentist trips for reattachment)
Lift both molar sections first
Then try to lift the front section in a oner with fingers 'at your threes' (the third tooth out from the centre on each side, so typically your canines)
At first, you may meet a point of resistance where it hurts too much to remove due to the aligner angle being different due to the backs being unclipped, but push past this point and you'll be fine!
Some people - me and this other dude my dentist has worked with! - find using their tongue for that added push when removing the front section helpful. When I'm at the point of removing with my fingers at my threes (still hooking the aligners away from the teeth to help get over the attachments), I hook my tongue under the lower set and push up as I hook and pull and it pops out way easier!
Tips for inserting:
Wash your hands thoroughly!
Sit the aligner above the teeth
I find it best to click the front section in place first and then do the sides/backs after
To seat it securely, I basically just gently Bute down around my thumb to ensure they're all clicked in and snug against the teeth
Chewies are raved about in vlogs about Invisalign and I held off buying any bc good ones are quite expensive, but I found them to be unnecessary. I don't hurt my thumbs by chewing down on them, I have zero skin breakage/bruising from doing it. But they are an option if you don't want to do that and are happy to replace them as they don't always last long
The initial discomfort of the aligners being inserted lasted maybe a couple days, and it probably took about a week for me to get used to speaking with them in enough to not lisp like a trooper. And to get used to having the aligners was maybe three days
You will hypersalivate for the first day or so so have a tissue/towel on hand for removing bc it gets everywhere!
I don't eat with mine in, and I only drink cordial (squash/diluting juice) through a straw with them in to avoid staining (super lucky I don't drink hot drinks tbh as they stain worse). If you do do hot drinks, be mindful that the aligners are only palstic and will warp with extreme heat, so cool your drinks or remove the aligners to drink hot drinks (but remember that 22 hours of wear a day is a lot when you have to factor in three meals a day and brushing, so maybe try to time hot drinks with your meals)
Keep what I refer to as 'dental go bags' in a few common places as you need to have perfectly clean teeth before putting your aligners in as they will trap any bacteria food in there that would usually be flushed away with saliva/drinking
This is my handbag one so it also has a straw handy. I keep a travel toothbrush (sensitive/soft bristled bc your teeth are sensitive with braces), toothpaste, travel mouthwash (which I'll just refill with my usual mouthwash once it's empty but I needed the bottles for convenience) and floss. I keep one in my handbag, one in my uni bag, and one in my work bag. I also have straws and toothbrushes stashed at both my parents' houses in case I've nipped over there and don't have one of my bags with me
A water flosser is super helpful! Would recommend 100%! I have this one as it runs on the mains and has a larger water tank so I don't have to worry about refilling during cleaning or guessing the charge, both of which people mention as negatives with the portable ones, but these are a cheaper option and still do the same job!
If you don't eat breakfast, you probably will now bc the hassle for a snack is long! Take out aligners, fully clean teeth (meaning you need a sink available), replace aligners = a two-minute snack taking 10-15 minutes depending on how rigorous you are with your cleaning and how easily/quickly you can remove your aligners
Try to remember to pack your Invisalign container with you so you don't damage/lose your aligners when taking them out to eat (they're clear, so they blend in a little. I'm lucky my pontic makes mine fractionally more visible tb) and if you routinely use several different bags then maybe invest in a few snack tubs that will fit your aligners in
After removing, give your aligners a swill under water and a quick brush to remove any calcium build-up etc from your saliva and residue from any drinks. I do this every time I remove, and once a night I soak them in in a mixture of bicarbonate of soda and water (maybe half a cup of lukewarm water to a third of a teaspoon of bicarb) to remove any bacteria as brushing them with toothpaste can be abrasive and wear down the aligners. And the cleaning crystals they give you are way more expensive than a tub of bicarb. I checked with my dentist what the safest alternative was and this was his advice, he said not to bother with steradent/denture tablets like some people use (I can't remember why this was though)
Your teeth will be sensitive when you remove your aligners so do be mindful not to go chomping on the hardest things out there, and that extreme temperatures/sugars can aggravate them. I asked my dentist as I'd noticed sugar sensitivity that I'd never had before and apparently this is just my personal reaction to orthodontic movement as my teeth and enamel are perfectly healthy
I change to my second set of aligners on Monday so I will try to update then
If anyone has any questions, I'm happy to answer where I can!
For reference, here are my teeth pre-bridge removal and pre-invisalign
Here is how my teeth look with my Invisalign and its lil baby pontic
#invisalign#jess' Invisalign experience#aligner#retainer#braces#teeth#pontic#dentist#orthodontics#info
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i don’t think whatever conspiracy the game’s ending alludes to is the grumpinati per se, not just bc of the discussion abt the fanon surrounding it from a few days ago, but in my opinion i think it’d just be kinda anticlimactic. as zuhn’s said themself, bugsnax is a game where the characters are only ever half-right. having even one of them be 100% correct all along feels almost like too much payoff way too soon, if that makes any sense.
that said, i don’t think discarding the concept entirely is necessary.
imagine you’re stationed at some research outpost off the coast of this island with a couple other folks. there’s like, a worrying amount of lost civilizations there, and that’s weird, right? because even when a civilization collapses on its own, it’s rare that the actual people in it disappear - and the first settlers came long after those people were gone, so it’s not like they were the ones who wiped them out, and the wildlife seems perfectly benign. so what happened?
and then you find out the island is a parasitic colony organism that quiet literally feeds on the emotionally vulnerable.
you make it out just in time after finding out. not all of you, but enough to form some kind of plan. you think the first civilization established, by far the longest-lived, got by just fine giving their old and dying to the island at first, but eventually one of those things must’ve gotten hold of a younger, healthier, more volatile specimen, and the situation spiraled out of control from there. but that’s all an afterthought - what matters is what you’re going to do about it now.
you decide can’t tell anyone about this. sooner or later some idiot would try to make a tourist trap out of the place, not realizing how literal that title was. or maybe they’d try to sell the vermin there as pets, let them infest the outside world until the whole globe was bugsnax. or maybe they’d travel just for the thrill. far too risky.
after much deliberation, you reach a decision: in time, the outpost will be rebuilt. a new team will be sent in. the island seems sated for now, but you’ve seen how it moves - how it blinks and breathes, and how it lurches, as though trying to uproot itself from its fixed point in the ocean. there’s no telling what it’ll do if it gets hungry again and runs out of patience, and you don’t want to find out. so you get to work on setting up a second expedition, years from now.
some people try to quit. you don’t blame them, but there’s no way you can risk letting them go.
nobody comes back from the second expedition. it is a resounding success. you make plans for a third.
decades pass by, then a century, then two. you keep the numbers to a minimum, only sending a group in once reports of seismic activity start coming in again. each one gets a different cover story - a ritzy private yacht charter, a construction site for the next alcatraz, a raffle for a ghost tour. most often, it’s an expedition. you learn how to pick off people that’ll rouse the least suspicion - ones everyone expects to die soon for one reason or another, or ones that won’t be missed. not by anyone important, anyway. if you can get them from all over the globe, even better. there’s billions of people on the planet, and we only ever get 14 at a time, you tell yourself. the population will recover. in time, it will become just another urban legend.
speaking of urban legends, they are immensely helpful. you take full advantage of them, use them to create imaginary enemies for any particularly sharp travelers that would cause problems later. you suppose in a way it’s still you, just donning a different mask. it’s always a carefully crafted caricature, meant to serve as a distraction, like a laser pointer. and in your defense, they almost always fall for it.
it gets easier as time goes on. you get more resources, more people willing to join the cause. not a lot of morally upstanding ones, but you’re basically dealing with a modern-day minotaur, so you know fully well that beggars can’t be choosers. it works.
there are arguments, of course. have been ever since the beginning - sending people to the slaughter unawares is unnecessarily cruel, they argue, and if they were really that dedicated to keeping the island satisfied then you should be willing to sacrifice yourself to it. they get shot down every time - maybe because there really is no other way, maybe because you don’t want to die, maybe because you just want to feel like you still have control over something that grew far beyond your grasp long ago. you don’t dwell on it.
sometimes one or two members manage to avoid assimilation. depending on how they react, you either make them disappear or you take them in as your own, let them join the ranks, and make plans to send in the next group a little earlier. you absorb them into yourselves. the similarities are not lost on you.
somehow, you never thought to have a contingency plan for when all of them survive.
#bugsnax#text post#this started as a speculation post and ended as a very pretentious short story#anyway i like the idea of an uber powerful secret organization secretly hanging on by a thread#headcanons#bugsnax spoilers
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pairing: min yoonji x reader / word count: 9.7k / genre: f x f smut, assassin!au
summary: a fic inspired by this post and that’s pretty much it-
warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), talk about death/assassination (nothing graphic dw! but they are assassins, so), mild violence, unnecessarily sexually charged lipstick application, face riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral (f giving/receiving), use of restraints, overstimulation, squirting, kind of dom!yoonji?
a/n: this is an entirely self-indulgent fic I wrote as a gift to myself for my bday, it’s a lil rushed bc I wanted it done for today! women are so very beautiful and I am so very weak, thank you ladies for all being so amazing ily. this was meant to be a short pwp and now it’s almost 10k but I have no regrets bye
--
la petite mort
French
literal meaning: ‘the little death’; also an expression used to refer to the brief loss or weakening of consciousness, specifically the sensation of orgasm as likened to death; an orgasm.
--
“It’s just unacceptable.”
The woman in front of you is clearly wealthy. Her dark hair is perfectly styled and her pale nails are perfectly shaped and her subtle makeup is perfectly flattering; she’s starting to get older but rather than shy away from it, she’s leaning into it, and she looks almost imperious in her beauty, eyes sharp and set of her lips severe. Park Dahye was born into wealth and has clearly thrived in the life that she’s been afforded.
“Mmhm.” You try not to yawn.
“He’s flitting around with some young, silly thing on his arm, with no consideration for the family’s reputation— my reputation,” she continues. Her posture is perfect, from the set of her spine to her crossed legs to her folded hands that rest on her knee, somehow demure and yet highlighting all of her beauty and riches; the jewellery on her wrists and fingers, the expensive heels on her feet, the slit of her haute-couture dress, no doubt tailored for her and her alone. “I’ve already spoken to him about his behaviour, but he’s just ignored my warnings. We may have agreed on the divorce but we’re currently still husband and wife— has he no shame?”
“Awful.” You don’t even try to hide how bored you are, but Dahye is so quietly incensed that she doesn’t even notice as she launches into the next part of her queenly diatribe, and you muffle a sigh.
That’s the problem with rich clients. Sure, they’re willing to fork over stupid amounts of money to you, but they also think that their issues are of paramount significance— like they’re the centre of the universe and their problems are the only important ones in the world. Like you’re interested in what they have to say. Like this is the only job you’ll ever do that holds real weight or meaning.
For them, it’s a life-changing (life-ending) decision.
For you? It’s another Tuesday.
“Yes, yes, that’s just so terrible, gosh, I don’t know how you manage it,” you say once she pauses to take a breath, using the opportunity to cut her off before she launches into another part of her articulate rant. “Anyway. Would you prefer if his death was embarrassing or quiet?”
For the first time since you’ve met, she seems unsettled. “Pardon?”
Namjoon is much better with people than you, smooth and charming with his boyish dimples. Normally any discussions would go through your handler, but this woman had demanded to meet you personally and had been willing to pay for the privilege: so here you are, with your relative bluntness instead of Joon’s winsome smile.
“You know,” you say, gesturing with your hands. “When they find the body. Do you want him to be caught with his trousers around his ankles—literally or figuratively, that’s up to you— or would you rather it seemed like something natural and unpredictable? Like a sudden heart attack in his sleep, for example.”
When it comes to rich clients, a lot of it is about reputation. When someone’s shuffled off this mortal coil, it’s not just that they’re removed from the equation, it’s also about the ripples that their death leaves in the high society that they’ve lived in. Does she want her (soon-to-be) ex-husband made a mockery of, or does she just want him out of the picture?
She can’t see your face, behind your mask as it is, but you can see hers in perfect clarity. For all that Dahye seems put together and almost impassive, you see the tiny flicker in her eyes. Ah. She’s not just mad because he’s ruining their reputation. She’s hurt.
Man, that sucks. Honestly you bet it’s easier being an assassin than a rich housewife. At least when it comes to backstabbing you can literally involve a knife to sort your problems out. (Well, knives are messy, but you get the picture.)
“I’d prefer something quiet,” she decides. “I’d worry that it could lead back to me, otherwise.”
You’d be offended at the idea that you’d leave any trace that could implicate anyone or that this man’s sudden death was in any way suspicious, but she’s paying you enough that you find that you don’t care. You take pride in your work, but for the amount of zeroes involved in the fee you’re being paid, you think you can take an unintentional insult or two. Or three. Or ten.
You like money, what can you say.
“Sure thing,” you say, giving her a lazy, two fingered salute. You’ve been reclining against the desk of the hotel suite, flicking the complimentary, heavy metal pen between your fingers, twirling it like the world’s most underwhelming baton. You straighten up and let the pen drop back into the pen pot—wait, no, of course it’s a handmade porcelain jar, an alarmingly well-made Joseon porcelain replica. Everything in here stinks of money. “RM will confirm where the money is to be deposited. Half of it now as collateral, and half upon completion of the job,” you say. “If you change your mind between now and then, we’ll be keeping the original 50%, but if for some reason something goes awry, you’ll receive that money back. Sound good?”
She seems surprised at your directness. “I—”
“Fabulous!” You clap your hands together, although the sound is muffled by your gloves. You’re not about to leave your fingerprints everywhere, geez. “Alright, time for me to skidaddle I suppose! I’ve got work to be doing, people to be watching, men to be killing!”
Dahye flinches imperceptibly, but by this point you’ve already slipped out onto the balcony and into the night.
--
Being an assassin is hard work.
Technically, everyone has the capacity to kill another human being. But killing as a job involves a lot more than just caving someone’s head in with a rock—that’s why Cain isn’t referred to as an assassin, what with how he’d just bashed his brother Abel with a convenient stone that happened to be lying nearby. He was just a straight up dick.
No, when you kill professionally you need to be familiar with an array of different techniques, each one far more sophisticated than the last. You need to know how to be stealthy, how to blend in as you watch your target, how to set up the scenes of their death in a way that doesn't arouse suspicion. Or, instead, how to set the scene up in a way that lets any onlookers know that this person had been offed by someone who knew what they were doing, and knew it well. There's a difference between being a killer and being an assassin and you are firmly in the latter category.
So, if your client wants her husband to be shuffled off quietly, then that’s what she’ll get.
They really have pulled out all the stops for this charity gala. Everything is shining, glittering and bright: the surroundings, the food, the people. Especially the people. The rich elite have come together for an extravagant and exquisite night of ostentation and luxury, all in the name of raising money for some needy cause. (You try not to think of the irony and/or hypocrisy behind that.)
It’s almost laughable how easy it is to blend in here. Namjoon had secured (forged) invitations for you both, and so you hang off his arm as you make a slow sweep of the room, trailing unnoticed after your target. You’re not planning to make a move right now but you want to feel out exactly what he’s like: the more information you have about the person you’ve been contracted to assassinate, the better.
Plus it’s an excuse to dress up nice and eat free food— though that last part is mainly Namjoon.
“God, these canapés are so good,” Namjoon moans quietly to you, hoovering up the flaky pastry crumbs from his fingers with single-minded intent. You dig your fingers subtly into his arm.
“I thought we agreed on not eating tonight, Joon,” you mutter to him, although you say it with a beatific smile in case anyone is watching; the place is heaving with people but you’re always on guard. (Even if Namjoon is right. The hors d’oeuvres that are on offer do look incredibly tempting.)
“You have a glass of champagne,” he points out.
“And you may have noticed that I haven’t drunk any of it.” You titter, as if he’s just told a funny joke, and lightly slap his arm. Again, you’re fairly certain no one is watching, but you can never be too careful. “It’s all about creating a facade, Joonie. It’s what we in the business call a ruse.”
Even throughout your back and forth, you’ve kept your eyes on your man of the night: Park Minjae, a middle-aged businessman who’s been greeting people and getting swept up in conversation, all while a slip of a blonde clings to his arm, stuck to his side like a pretty limpet. She’s cute, sure, but she lacks the poise that Dahye has, so you frankly don’t get it. Then again, not everyone finds strong women as attractive as you do. Weirdos.
You’ve been focused on Minjae but your eyes have also been flitting around the room, drinking in your surroundings, drawing up a detailed map of your environment (of course you’d scoped out the building before tonight, but with all the banquet tables and chairs around the layout is a little different). The people, too, have been subject to your scrutiny, although so far they all seem summarily unimportant and uninteresting, just as you’d suspected. You lift your glass to your lips and pretend to take a tiny, demure sip, glancing up through your eyelashes to scan the room again, and you freeze.
Holy shit.
You take back what you just said about everyone being unimportant and uninteresting.
The woman who’s just walked in is fucking stunning. Her sleek dark bob is unstyled, but perfectly frames her beautiful face: sharp eyes, soft nose, flushed lips. Her cocktail dress lets you see almost every inch of those perfect legs, the line of her thighs to her calves and— oh, you swear you could shed a tear of joy. She’s already tall and she’s made even taller by the heels she wears, towering above most of the men here, a fucking Amazonian goddess who looks powerful and undeniably elegant at the same time.
(Thank you for your service, tall women.)
You don’t know who she is, but goddamn, do you want to. She’s scanning the room, and for a brief moment, your eyes touch. A tiny thrill shudders up your spine at the darkness of her keen eyes, that quick and astute gaze.
It’s only the tiniest of moments that’s over as soon as it’s started. The dark-haired beauty looks away and is already disappearing into the crowd before you realise, and it’s only then you notice that you’re staring, utterly drawn in by her cool poise and presence. You’ve been frozen in place with the rim of your champagne glass resting against your mouth, and your eyelashes flutter as you blink and glance down.
The imprint of your lower lip has been left on the glass, stark red visible against its edge, and you squeeze Namjoon’s bicep.
“How does my lipstick look?”
He takes one look at you as he swallows down another tiny vol-au-vent. “Like half of it is missing,” he says, and you frown.
“Ugh. I’ll go touch it up in the bathroom. Keep an eye on our guy, I’ll be right back.”
It’s not until you’ve made it to the toilets that you realise that you do not, in fact, have any lipstick in your ridiculously small clutch bag. When it comes to your actual work, you’re meticulous and thorough and well-planned, but for some bizarre reason, a tube of lipstick is never the top of the list when it comes to equipment. Unbelievable. (You knew you should have worn the 24/7 stuff, but it was always such a nightmare to get off.)
You’ve been so busy rummaging through your bag that you’re completely caught off-guard at the sound of a quiet voice from behind you.
“Lost something?”
Oh, fuck. It’s her, your dark haired and dark eyed beauty, meeting your gaze through the mirror when you glance up from where you’re resting your bag against the marble counter (marble, marble, marble, it’s all marble: the floors, the counters, the sinks; why do rich people always love marble?). She looks altogether too amused at your plight and at how your eyes have widened perceptibly upon seeing her again. But can she blame you? Her presence is so graceful and commanding and she’s so dizzyingly attractive it’s insane. Surely she must get this all the time.
You stare for a little longer than is probably polite, and even behind her fringe you can see how one of her eyebrows rises.
“Sorry for staring,” you say once you notice. “You’re just so beautiful.”
She pauses as she takes in the compliment. You see how her eyes flicker over your face and settle on your mouth; your upper lip, tinted burgundy red, while the lower is faint and smudged.
“Lipstick problems?” She cocks her head at you, still staring at your lips in the mirror. God, she’s so hot.
“Can you tell?” You sound rueful as you glance down at the reflection of your mouth, touching your bottom lip lightly with a fingertip. “I forgot to bring any with me so now I’m stuck.”
She finally looks away from you. You hear a small, metallic click as she unclasps her evening bag— marginally larger than your own— and lifts out a small tube of liquid lipstick. “Would you like to use mine?”
Fuck yes you would.
“Oh, would that be alright?” You finally turn around, and you have to tilt your head back to look at her, taller than you in her heels. Jesus Christ. She’s going to be the death of you. Why are women so gorgeous? Who gave them the right? “I’m not sure the shade will match, though?”
You watch her beautiful mouth curve up into a small smirk as she pulls out a tiny pack of makeup remover wipes from her bag, and you swear could propose to her there and then. Beautiful and tall and organised? Holy shit. What a woman.
She’s got her bag in one hand, while the lipstick and wipes are clasped in the other; her hand is held up in such a way that you think she means for you to take them from her, but when you reach out she shakes her head.
“I’ll do it for you,” she says. The quiet note of authority in her tone makes you go weak at the knees.
Thank god the toilets you chose aren’t the main ones, because it means there’s no one around to see how she tilts her head at the marble counter in the universal gesture of get on there. It’s entirely unnecessary, but you, of course, immediately comply. You brace your hands against the cold stone before hitching yourself up, careful with the draping folds of your dress; the cold touch of the stone is noticeable through the material of your dress, but it’s instantly forgotten when your enchantress steps closer.
You spread your knees so she can stand between them. Holy shit, she’s even better up close. Her lashes are wispy but they’re the perfect frame for her gorgeous eyes, which are dark and intent. You suppress a shiver. You hold yourself still as she leans forward and around you so she can put her clutch and lipstick down, trying to ignore how close she is, but there’s no way she can’t realise what she’s doing. Your heart is pounding. You wish you didn’t have a job to do tonight because you would so much rather be getting, ah, acquainted with this woman rather than following some old businessman around.
The only noise in the bathroom is the sound of peeling plastic as she opens the tiny packet of wet wipes before she curls one around her finger, glancing at you through her lashes.
“Open,” she instructs.
Your mouth drops open immediately. She sweeps the wipe over your lips, bottom, then top, touch firm but careful, drawing away the red from your skin; you stare at her as she works, how her eyes are cast down as she stares at your mouth. She’s using her free hand to grip your chin and you feel deliciously powerless in her grasp.
You purse your lips a little to try and help her, watching the way her eyes flicker as she pulls the wipe back over them— somewhat firmer, this time, with more intent. Lingering. The only barrier between her finger and your mouth is soft and flimsy, the texture of the wipe against your lips like cotton as it drags across them, and it would be so easy to pull it out of her hands.
She flicks the dirtied wipe aside, heedless of how it lands on the unsullied marble, before reaching for her lipstick. She twists the tube in her fingers, motions of her hands precise and deft, and you’ve never been so attracted to how someone’s uncapped something before.
You watch her hands. (She watches you.)
Your eyes trail over the wand as she pulls it out, dragging the doe foot against the rim to catch the excess before turning it towards you, putting the tube by your thigh, near where your hand is bracing against the marble. She takes hold of your chin once again. You stay quiet as she starts to sweep the lipstick over your lips, painting them the same flushed pink as her own. Once again she’s staring at her work so you’re free to drink her in, almost drunk from her beauty, eyes catching on the tiny moles on her pale skin, the smallest freckles that are only noticeable because you’re this close.
The squelch of the applicator sliding into the tube is almost lewd in the silence of the bathroom, and this time you can’t suppress a shiver when she pulls your chin down to open your mouth so she can go back in again on your lips, drawing a sharp, crisp line. Tracing the edges of your lips, the flushed swell of them, the peak of your cupid’s bow.
She glances up. For a moment you’re both still, staring at each other, tension in the air palpable, but then she smacks her lips and you copy the motion, evening the application of the makeup on your mouth.
“Perfect,” she murmurs. “One more step.”
A small, confused frown flits over your face. She’s put the lipstick aside but then she lifts a finger and points towards your still parted lips. You take in a small, shuddering breath when she speaks again and you realise what she means.
“You don’t want to get lipstick on your teeth, do you?”
Both of her eyebrows have risen and she’s looking at you like you’re being silly if you disagree with her.
“No,” you say. You’re not about to deny her. “No, I don’t.”
Your eyes remain locked. You lean forwards, taking that perfect, long finger into your mouth, dragging your lips upwards so that any excess lipstick is caught against her pale skin, a ring of deep rose circling her bottom knuckle; you curl your tongue around her, hot and wet, feeling the crease of her knuckles and pad of her fingertip against your taste buds as you slowly, slowly pull away.
It’s undoubtedly indecent and risqué and you can feel the flush of arousal settling in your lower belly, an almost embarrassing flush of wetness leaking out of you at the taste of her skin. She, however, remains unmoved, although she lets her finger linger just for a moment on your bottom lip, almost rough against their softness— but before you can swallow those fingers back down and ruin her meticulous work, she pulls away, lifting the discarded wipe to sweep it around her finger, catching the lipstick you’d left on her skin.
“Done.”
She steps back and you feel like you can finally breathe, a breath so deep you can feel how your lungs fill, oxygen rushing to your brain so fast you feel lightheaded. You watch as she sweeps everything back into her bag, clicking it shut with a note of finality; the sullied wipe is cast carelessly into a tiny, chrome bin with a flick of a wrist, her every motion regal.
You slide off the counter. You still can’t take your eyes off her and you don’t want to. It feels like whatever heaviness was in the air has dissipated, gone in an instant with a turn of her head— normally you’d let it slide, even if you feel disappointed, but she’s just so magnetic.
“Thank you,” you say. You can see yourself in the mirror now and to your complete lack of surprise, your lipstick is perfect. The shade is lighter than one you’d have chosen for yourself but it’s beautiful on her, of course.
“You’re welcome.” She’s in the middle of washing her hands, but she glances over her shoulder at you, and the firm set to her face lightens a little as she smiles. It’s a small, sly thing, and you realise with a start that she knows exactly what effect she has on you.
I’m coming back for you, you think to yourself. You have work to do tonight, but—
“What’s your name?”
She pauses. She shuts off the tap with a quick motion, reaching forward for a rolled hand-towel, a neat stack on a metal tray nearby. You wonder if she’s not going to answer but then she speaks, looking at you instead of the soft cotton she’s rubbing over her skin. “Yoonji,” she says. “I’m Min Yoonji.”
Min Yoonji is the most gorgeous fucking woman you’ve ever seen.
“I love your dress, Yoonji,” you say, and it’s true, you really do— but you’d prefer it if it was off. Not that you’re about to say that, of course.
She lets out a breath of laughter. “I know.” Oh, god, you love confident women. “What’s your name, darling?”
You have that same split second of hesitation, similar to Yoonji’s only moments prior. You use a codename when you work, of course, and you have a plethora of fake identities that you use and are intimately familiar with— but the idea of your real name falling off Yoonji’s flushed, petal lips? Woof.
“Y/n L/n,” you say.
Oh, Joon would be so unimpressed right now, giving some mysterious woman your full, real name just because you think she’s the sexiest thing since sex, but whatever. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.
“Well, Y/n,” Yoonji says. You were right, your name sounds so good falling from her mouth, the mouth that’s turned into a small, almost smug smile. “I certainly hope to see you at the charity ball in a few weeks?”
“Of course.” Your schedule has been magically cleared and you’ll definitely be in attendance for whatever ball Yoonji is referring to, even if you have no idea what it is. You only come to these things if you have to for work but for Yoonji you’ll make an exception. You’ll make a hundred thousand exceptions. A hundred thousand quinquagintaquadringentillion exceptions. “I’ll make sure to remember my lipstick next time.”
And there it is, the thing that seals the deal, the final nail in the coffin: Yoonji glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes, a sharp, dark touch that shoots through you as her smile edges into hunger.
“Don’t worry,” she says. “I’m sure it won’t stay on your lips long enough to matter.”
--
The thing you’ve discovered about Minjae is that, with his divorce due to be finalised soon, he’s apparently lost any sense of routine and is revelling in his new found freedom, which is kind of irritating when you’re trying to tail the guy. Sure, you’re still going to take him out, but you prefer it when targets have some sort of schedule that they adhere to— makes it easier to set up a kill.
“You’re certain that he’s going to be here tonight?” You’d been sceptical considering how the guy’s apparently thrown his schedule out of the window, but Namjoon had been certain.
“Positive.” He’d said. “He’s there every Tuesday night. You’ll have plenty of time.”
The house appears to be deserted. The driveway is empty and all the windows and doors are locked tight. It’s just one of the properties that the Parks own in the city, and for all its size and lushness it appears as though this one is rarely frequented; you imagine that the cleaners and gardeners spend more time here than the owners themselves.
It doesn’t take you long to evade the watchful eyes of security cameras to pick a lock and slip inside. You're grateful for the dying evening light that helps cover your tracks from any onlookers from the street, although you imagine the high walls do good work at preventing people from seeing into the grounds anyway.
There’s still enough light to navigate through the house, the golden tinged sunset casting warm shadows across the spotless furniture and fixtures; you take a moment to let your eyes slide across a huge canvas hanging on a wall that spans two storeys, some impressionist piece that’s surprisingly ugly for all the talent that’s obvious in its brushstrokes. Maybe that’s why the Parks are never here? You’d certainly try to avoid seeing this thing if you could. Eurgh.
Even though the building is empty, you’re careful as you start to make your way forwards. You always place your toes down first whenever you take a step, soundless as you start to map the house out in your mind; there are so many rooms you can hide in, but you’d prefer to be close to wherever Minjae ends up. Saves faffing around later.
You’ll overpower him, inject the toxin into his blood and wait for him to die before setting him up on the toilet— it’s surprisingly common for people to die while on the shitter, the strain leading to an untimely heart attack, especially in older people. The poison you’re using tonight will mimic the symptoms of a heart attack in the case the coroner decides a post-mortem needs to be undertaken.
(Being found on the bog might not be a particularly graceful way to die but when you’re dead it’s kind of hard to be embarrassed.)
You’ve eased the door open into a large bedroom, and you’re just inspecting if it looks like this room sees more use than the others when you pause. It’s deathly silent in this building, the air still minus where you glide through it as you move, but there’s a feeling in your gut, some instinct that makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You freeze, ears straining to catch any noise to let you know if there’s someone else here, when—
There. In the reflection of a burnished pot, the tiniest shifting movement.
You react almost faster than the eye can see. You spin to parry a hit that was aimed for your head, and the strength behind it shudders through your arms. You only have a second to take in the details of your assailant— dressed in dark clothing, masquerade style mask in place, a professional just like you— before you’re deflecting another flurry of blows, flipping backwards out of reach before spinning into a kick, hooking that burnished pot with your foot and sending it flying towards the other assassin.
They dodge it. You both ignore the sound of clattering metal as you lunge forwards, trying to catch them off guard after their sidestep— your fist makes contact with their palm instead of their face, your hand engulfed in theirs, and you startle at their speed. You might not be the strongest but you’re damn fast.
There’s a pause, and you can only see a slither of their eyes through the sockets of their mask, but you can tell that they’re impressed. And honestly? So are you.
The moment shatters when they use the hand they're holding to twist you, locking an arm around your neck and putting you into a chokehold; they’re strong, stronger than you, cutting off your airflow. You need to get out of this before you fall unconscious, but if they’re trained as well as you then they’ll know how to combat the usual ways you’d use to get out of this.
So, in a demonstration of your flexibility you kick a leg up, using the strength of your thighs and calves to slam it into the arm that’s around your neck. Your assailant lets out a noise of surprise and pain as you slip out of their hold and cartwheel across the room before spinning to face them.
There’s a beat. The air is tense. You get another chance to take in the details of whoever’s just tried to choke you out; you stare at her as she stares at you, the two of you poised and ready to strike, watching and waiting.
Knives might be messy but of course you’re not unarmed. You have multiple sheathed weapons in your clothes, though you don’t make a move to draw any of them. Yet. “I suppose you wouldn’t tell me who your employer is, would you?”
Your opponent tilts her head. “You don’t know?” She sounds amused, even through her mask. “Minjae took out a contract on the assassin who has a contract on him.”
Your lip curls back from your teeth. The only way Minjae would have heard about your contract is if Dahye had told him. Presumably to try and shock him out of his behaviour, or something, who knows. “This is the last time I’m accepting a job from these rich old farts,” you mutter.
“That’s for certain,” she says.
She starts to move and you catch her arm just as she goes to unsheathe a wicked looking blade, knocking it aside before she overpowers you and you start to wrestle. It’s messy and graceless but sometimes you just have to fight dirty.
Whoever this woman is, she still has the upper hand because she was expecting you and you weren’t expecting her; she knocks you onto the bed and pins you down, swooping the knife up from where it had been thrown onto the mattress. You go utterly still as she holds it against your throat, towering over your from where she’s straddling your waist and kneeling on your arms. Any sudden movement from you now could lead to your untimely demise— and, unsurprisingly, you absolutely want to avoid that at all costs.
Namjoon would never let you live it down if you were killed on the job.
You hum. “It seems like we’ve reached an impasse.”
She doesn’t respond. The knife doesn’t dip any lower, though; you’re undoubtedly at her mercy but you notice she’s careful to keep the knife still, hovering above the skin of your neck, but not making contact.
“Well,” you continue. “At least I’m going out the way I’d always hoped to.”
Even in the dying light and with how her face is covered, you notice her face shifting behind her mask— a silent, questioning raise of an eyebrow. You give her a cheeky smile that crinkles your eyes.
“In bed with a beautiful woman, of course.”
At this she huffs out a laugh. “Do you flirt with every person who tries to kill you?”
You’re trying to look as non-threatening as possible to keep that knife away from your jugular. The longer you talk, the longer you live, even if you can’t see a way to get out of this situation right now. “Only the pretty ones.”
The small laugh she lets out this time seems more like a scoff. “You don’t even know what I look like.”
“Please.” You roll your eyes. “Any woman who can fight like you and knows how to handle a knife? Automatically hot. I don’t need to see your face to know that.”
The knife still hasn’t moved. She continues to stare you down and you go tense when her free hand moves. She tugs the cloth of your mask down to reveal your face, the air of the room almost cold against the suddenly bared skin, your breaths free to curl out unhindered.
“Usually I like to be taken out to dinner at least once before we get this intimate, but for you I suppose I’ll make an exception.” You’re still grinning cheekily at her, but your mind continues to race as you try to think of a way to get out of this, especially now that she’s seen what you look like—but you suddenly notice that she’s gone very, very still.
“Y/n?”
The grin freezes on your face. Oh, you’re so boned. You’re so very boned. Like, yeah, you’ve been seconds away from death for the past, hmm, five minutes, but this is somehow worse. How the fuck does she know your name?
You’re given the answer almost immediately. She withdraws the hand from your chin and reaches for her own mask. Your eyes widen and your breath stutters in your throat once you see who it is.
“Holy shit,” you breathe.
Yoonji is staring down at you. She’s every inch as imperious and stunning as the last time you’d seen her— hell, even moreso now that you’ve seen what she’s capable of. No wonder you hadn’t been able to find out anything about her after you’d met at that garish charity gala. Because she’s untraceable, just like you.
“Well.” You stare back at her, not even attempting to keep the surprise off your face. “If anyone has to kill me at least I can die satisfied in the knowledge that it was you. Can I make a request? I’d be eternally grateful if you smothered me to death with your thighs. Just a suggestion, feel free to ignore it if you want.”
Yoonji cocks her head. Her bob is tied back, but there’s a loose lock of hair curled by the side of her face that shifts at the motion. Your fingers twitch. If she wasn’t kneeling on your arms you know you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from tucking it behind her ear. Any excuse to touch her. “Do you always talk so much?”
“Hey, if it means I get to feel your legs around my face before I die, I’ll give a full fledged TED talk,” you say. “I have to admit, though. When I pictured us in bed together I didn’t think it would be like this.”
The knife still hasn’t moved from your throat. She continues to stare, as if considering what to do next, though her face remains impassive. “What did you think it would be like?”
“Well, you know. Less knives and clothes involved and a lot more making out,” you answer. “You, telling me what to do. Me, entirely at your command. Anything the lady wants, she gets.”
The human body is a fickle and strange beast. Ever since you discovered who’s straddling you, you’ve been growing wetter and wetter, even if you’re trying not to let on that you’re steadily growing more aroused— you’re still distinctly aware of the knife that’s only centimetres away from your skin, but somehow your body is more focused of the fact that the woman you’ve been daydreaming about is finally in front of you again.
(Well, less in front of you and more on top of you, which is an admittedly preferable option, sans the knife involvement.)
You see how Yoonji’s eyes are darting over your face. No doubt taking in how your pupils are dilated, how your breaths are a little shallower, quicker— signs of fear and signs of arousal are surprisingly similar. You wonder if she can identify which it is. Probably. You’re not exactly very subtle in your attraction to her.
“I forgot my lipstick again,” you add, and Yoonji’s passive mask finally breaks when she rolls her eyes.
“Didn’t I say you wouldn’t need it?”
Even the way she throws the knife aside is gorgeous. The sharp undulation of her wrist as she sends the blade skittering across the polished wood floor is careless and fluid. Her hands cup your face as she bends down, and you send up a mental thanks to any god or higher being who might be listening before Yoonji presses her lips to your and your brain goes blank.
Apparently Yoonji likes it messy. One of her hands is grasping your chin in a mockery of the last time you’d met and she’d painted your lips— your mouth is open and she licks past your lips as you shudder beneath her. She’s still got her knees pressed into your arms, pinning you down, but you desperately crane your head towards her, chasing that kiss; you tilt your head to deepen it, and the whine that leaves you when she pulls away is almost embarrassing.
The sun has finally dipped below the horizon and the room is dark, painted in shades of grey and deep blue. You wish you could see Yoonji properly and you can’t help but wriggle a little underneath her, but then you watch her raise her hands and clap three times in rapid succession before the room floods with dim light. Sound activated lights? Damn.
Yoonji’s mouth shines, covered in a sheen of your mixed saliva, her pretty lips flushed rose pink; even without makeup they’re beautiful and their colour is deep, the blooming petals of a flower. Your eyes trail over her face, down her neck, over the fall of her chest and stomach— you’re both far too covered up in these stupid ensembles of yours and you want to strip the clothes off her. You want to see every inch of her beautiful, majestic body, bared for your lips and hands.
Fuck, she’s so gorgeous.
“Not to, um, ruin the moment, but my hands are going numb.” The weight of Yoonji’s body being pressed into your arms has pretty much cut off the blood flow to your fingers and you can feel the telltale sensation of pins and needles spreading through your skin. “Can I have those back, please?”
Yoonji lifts her knees just enough for you to slide your arms out from underneath them. You immediately shed your gloves and go to grab her ass but she gives you a sharp look and you freeze, slowly settling them on her thighs instead, which she allows with only the slightest raise of her eyebrows.
“Watch,” she commands, and who are you to disobey?
She reaches for the tie in her hair, tugging it out and letting her dark locks fall to frame her lovely, beautiful face. You hungrily swallow down each sight that she feeds to you, the skin that’s revealed as she shrugs off her layers of clothing. She unbuckles the weapons hidden underneath her clothes as she sheds them; she’s a veritable arsenal of firearms and knives, all cast carelessly aside until her upper body is finally, blessedly naked. You’ve been staring at her the whole time, the graceful column of her throat, the delicate lines of her collarbones, and your gaze falls to her breasts, small and perfect, nipples dusty pink and hard. You want to put your mouth on them.
“Holy shit, you’re perfect,” you say.
She smirks. You watch as she rolls her body, lifting up from her knees and standing up, towering above you on the bed—your hands fall to the mattress as she pulls her trousers down, tight material dragging against her skin as she slides it over the curve of her hips and down her long legs. There’s a dagger strapped to her thigh, which she unbuckles and lets fall to one side, but god, if she used it to kill you right now, you would die a happy woman. The image of Min Yoonji towering above you in nothing more than some flimsy underwear is one you want to take to the grave.
You can see how the material around her entrance is darkened with her arousal, and you feel your own body react to the sight, pussy throbbing, your own lower lips slick underneath all your layers of clothing. Yoonji hooks her thumbs into her panties and pushes them down, and you’re enraptured as you watch how the wetness clings to them, before that last bit of clothing is cast aside too.
You moan, unable to stop the sound bubbling up in your throat. From how she’s standing above you, legs spread from how her feet are either side of your hips, you can see everything—how her cunt is flushed, how wet she is, her folds shining. You bet she tastes so fucking good.
You let your mouth fall open, tongue lolling out in a way that’s obscene. You see Yoonji’s eyes flicker as she traces the motion, the way she takes in your expression: wide, hungry eyes, parted lips, wet tongue. Your hands skim up the back of her calves as she shifts forwards and returns to her knees, her naked core so, so close to your mouth, and you dig your fingers into her skin.
“Bon appé-fucking-tit,” you murmur, and then you pull her onto your face.
Yoonji gasps.
(You were right. She tastes so, so fucking good.)
You’re utterly shameless as you slurp up her juices, the wetness that continues to leak out of her as you bury your face into her cunt, tongue lapping over her entrance as your nose brushes her clit. Your hands have moved to the flesh of her ass and you encourage her to grind against you, rolling her hips towards your greedy mouth; you’re staring up at her, drinking down her reactions, the way her face twists with pleasure and the shuddering breaths she takes in, perfect little breasts jumping at the motion. There’s a flush spreading down her neck and chest, pale skin blushing pink, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.
You purse your lips against her clit, circling it with your tongue before dipping back down between her folds. Each time you breathe in all you can smell is her scent, heavy and dark, all your senses filled with Yoonji, Yoonji, Yoonji. When you hum against her, Yoonji arches her spine and throws her head back, so when you press your tongue into her you hum again, letting the vibrations shiver through her.
“Yes,” she gasps, rutting against your face. “Yes, yes—”
Her thighs tighten around your head. You redouble your efforts, watching her face as you continue to swipe your tongue up her slit and through her folds; you wish you could swallow each of the noises that are falling from her lips as she reaches the crest of her pleasure, the little gasps and moans each time you move your tongue in a particularly wicked way.
“There,” she says. “There, there, just like that—”
Your jaw aches but you don’t even register it, too intent on keeping your mouth open and hot and wet against her. It only takes a few more swipes and flicks of your tongue before she shudders violently, canting her hips towards your mouth as her legs go tense and she cums. She continues to straddle your face as she rides out the waves of pleasure, and you swallow down the wetness that flushes out of her rippling cunt, ignoring the throbbing between your own legs.
You can’t talk, muffled by her as you are, but your mind is singing. Look at you, you think. Look at how gorgeous you are. God, I could eat you out all day. (What a blessed life that would be.)
You can tell when Yoonji’s edged into oversensitivity, jolting when your tongue sweeps over her swollen clit; she settles back, knees spread as she rests against your heaving chest, legs tensing each time an aftershock shivers through her. Your mouth is open as you pant in air, but she watches as you swipe your tongue over your lips, catching the lingering taste of her on you, your chin opalescent with her arousal.
“Okay,” you say, breathless. “I’ve done everything that’s worth doing. I’ve peaked. Everything is downhill from here. You can kill me now.”
You’re only half joking, but your thighs instinctively go tight to rub against each other when you see how Yoonji’s eyes darken.
“I’m not done with you yet,” she purrs.
Yoonji might be naked while you’re still clothed, and so still armed, but she’s undoubtedly the one who’s in control right now. You are so, so okay with that. You watch with wide eyes as she shifts back, her hands grabbing the material of your jacket to tug you upwards, but before she can strip off your clothes you capture her lips with your own.
The taste of her is still heady and deep in your mouth and you nip at her bottom lip before pressing your tongue forwards. The kiss is already slick from Yoonji’s wetness and when you pull away, there’s a thin string of saliva that connects you for a moment before it breaks, which Yoonji wipes away from your chin with the pad of her thumb.
“Dirty girl,” she says, and you bite back a moan at the unabashed lust in her voice. Her grip on your chin is firm. “Did I say you could kiss me?”
“No,” you answer. “I couldn’t help myself.”
She tuts, as if disappointed, and every one of your nerve endings feels electrified, ready and anticipating whatever Yoonji is going to do next. “Such a shame,” she says. “You just can’t keep your hands or mouth to yourself, can you?”
“Can you blame me?”
Yoonji huffs out a laugh through her nose. She strips your jacket off in one sharp motion and then your shirt is similarly pulled off with single-minded intent, along with every other piece of equipment cinched to your arms and body. When you reach for her, though, she captures your wrists, her face stern.
“If you keep moving without permission, I’m going to take that privilege away from you.”
You don’t have to see your own eyes to know how your pupils will have dilated from that statement, blood thrumming through your veins, and you can tell Yoonji has noticed when her expression shifts.
“Oh.” A small, triumphant smirk appears on her face. “I see.”
You lift your arms up so she can pull your sports bra off (of course if you had known you’d been running into Yoonji again you would have worn something nicer). Rather than touch your heaving chest, however, she pushes you down onto the mattress, a hand around your wrists so they’re held above your head.
“Keep still,” she says.
She reaches for the holster that you’d had around your upper arm, lazily casting the knife aside before looping it around your wrists and pulling it secure.
Yoonji’s fingers ease under the nylon as she checks the fit. It’s tight, but not so much so that it’s painful or dangerous, and there’s a hushed moment when the realisation hits you— Yoonji and yourself are both skilled enough to know that you could easily free yourself if you wanted to. It would only take a little motion of your wrists and hands and you could slip them out of the makeshift cuffs in an instant.
You melt into the mattress. Yoonji’s eyes shift away from your wrists as she takes in the way you’ve gone utterly relaxed and limp below her, staring back at her. You see an expression flit across her face faster than you can see, before she slides down your body so she can push your legs apart.
You lift your hips to help her strip your trousers off. Her hand lingers on the concealed holster around your thigh, eyeing the small pistol nestled inside it, before that too is stripped off and cast aside. Her hands trail over the soft skin of your hips and stomach, eyes skimming over the bared length of your body before settling between your legs, the slickness of your inner thighs.
“You got this wet just from eating me out?” Her pretty mouth is curled into an expression that’s almost mocking, and your legs jolt as she runs her fingers lightly over your lower lips before rubbing her fingertips together to feel the wetness she’s gathered. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”
Your nails dig into your palms as your hands twist against each other and you shift your legs further apart. “Please, Yoonji,” you plead, shameless from desperation and arousal.
She laughs at your obvious hunger. “I suppose I should return the favour, shouldn’t I?”
You watch breathlessly as she lifts her fingers to her lips, swallowing them into her mouth to get them slick and wet. The motions of her tongue are languid as she licks across her fingers. You’re like a livewire, thrumming with electricity, and the sensation of her finally sinking one of those fingers into you sends sparks throughout your body.
Yoonji’s maddeningly slow. Your body takes her readily, her long finger gliding easily in and out of you, but she makes no move to speed up; you let out a small noise and she moves upwards to kiss you, as if indulging you, and you’ve just relaxed against her mouth when she plunges a second finger in.
She swallows your gasp as her fingers speed up, before she starts to kiss across your jaw, your neck, between the valley of your breasts and then closing her mouth over one of your nipples— she times the flick of her tongue with the thrust of her fingers, and then you feel how she takes her thumb to press your clit at the same time and you’re gone, falling over the edge faster than you’d expected. Your orgasm is fast but deep, your walls clenching tight around the fingers that continue to curl in and out of you, but she doesn’t stop.
“Yoonji,” you gasp. “It’s too— oh—”
Those two fingers continue to rub your sweet spot as you edge into oversensitivity but Yoonji doesn’t let up. She continues to lick and bite at the skin of your chest, putting her mouth to your other breast and circling the hardened bud of your nipple with her tongue before kissing down your stomach, your pubic bone, and then pressing her lips to your swollen clit.
You whimper. Her pace of her fingers has quickened, and she curls them each time she almost pulls them out, the squelch of their motions obscene as they slide through the cum of your first orgasm. She stares up at you, lapping at your clit with her tongue, and you can feel the saliva that’s dripping from her mouth and over your flushed core, every inch of you oversensitive but screaming with pleasure.
It’s almost painful, but you can feel an orgasm creeping through that ache; you wring your hands together and sob as Yoonji continues to finger fuck you without mercy, her pace almost bruising, the thrust of her knuckles against you each time she bottoms out just one more layer on top of that overwhelming pleasure.
“Yoonji,” you gasp. “I’m g-gonna cum again.”
She hums against you, and you make an incoherent noise at the feeling of that sound against your clit, almost too much— and then she presses one more finger into you, and that’s it, that slight burn and stretch sending you hurtling over that edge again. When you cum, your hips buck and you gasp, air rushing into your lungs before it escapes you in a moan of ecstasy; the only sensations registering in your mind right now are the ripples of pleasure spreading through your cunt as Yoonji pulls her fingers out of you, pressing down on your clit in a way that’s almost cruel, and you sob as your legs instinctively try to tighten but are prevented from doing so by Yoonji’s unyielding presence.
She’s staring down at you as you start to go lax, and you think she’s finished with you, but you watch with widening eyes as she takes her ring and middle finger to run them through your sodden folds. You sob again when those fingers plunge back into you, palm pressing against your clit each time she curls her fingers, and you squirm underneath her.
“Yoonji, it’s too much,” you cry.
“One more.” Yoonji’s leaning back and staring at you, taking in the sweat that’s beading across your skin, the tears that are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill down your face and into your hair. “You’re doing so well, darling, you can give me one more, can’t you?”
Your reply is incoherent, a small noise that shudders out of the back of your throat. You’ve never been thrown so thoroughly into pleasure like this, overstimulated and aching, but there’s that flicker of pleasure still between your legs, growing each time Yoonji beckons with her fingers, curling over your abused sweet spot again and again and again.
“Just say the word and I’ll stop,” Yoonji says, the wet plunge of her fingers into your abused pussy so messy and loud but not enough to drown her out. “One word and I’ll stop.”
You don’t say anything. You just let your eyes roll back into your head as you cant your hips towards her, trying to latch onto that thread of pleasure that’s thrumming through you below all your screaming nerves, and the noise Yoonji makes is pleased.
“There we go,” she praises. “Look at you, so good for me. Pretty darling.”
You can feel how your pussy clenches around Yoonji’s fingers, how the coil in you is squeezing tighter and tighter, how another orgasm is somehow creeping up on you— you tilt your hips towards that feeling, towards Yoonji’s hand, and then she’s pulling her fingers out of you in an almost rough motion and you’re cumming harder than you ever have before.
“Oh, fuck!” You sob.
It’s indescribable. The sensation rips through you as your back arches off the bed and you’re cumming and squirting and gasping and you can feel the wetness that slicks out of you, your toes curling as your brain goes blank from the staggering pleasure and static consumes every one of your senses. Your entire body feels like nothing more than a vessel for the ecstasy that’s shooting through your veins, spreading out from your core and to every corner of your insides and limbs.
It takes you a while to come back around, aftershocks wracking through your body. You feel sluggish and slow as your mind slowly clears, focusing on the sensation of warm hands stroking over the skin of your stomach and hips and thighs; your eyes flutter open and when you glance down you can see the shine to Yoonji’s skin, evidence of your pleasure painting her in a thin sheen of liquid.
“Oh my god,” you moan. “Holy shit.”
She smiles. “You were so, so good for me,” she says. She leans down to press a light kiss to collarbones and you shiver. “So beautiful. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve died and gone to heaven before coming back again,” you reply. “Oh, that was so good, Yoonji. I’ve never squirted before. I didn’t realise I could. God.”
Yoonji laughs lightly. You can’t help but watch the way it transforms her face, the way her chest jumps at the motion, every inch of her gorgeous and majestic and cute and pretty. “You did so, so well,” she praises, before she kisses you, her mouth so soft; you barely notice the sudden easing of pressure around your wrists as she releases you, more intent on the sensation of her soft petal lips against your own.
You stare up at her as she pulls away. Powerful, amazing Min Yoonji, kneeling between your legs, naked but not helpless. Definitely less vulnerable than you right now. And yet she’s still making no moves to grab one of the many weapons littered around the bed so she can finally finish her contract by completing the kill. It would be so easy for her.
The silence of the room is suddenly broken by a tiny buzzing noise. You both glance over at the sound, one that Yoonji doesn’t recognise but you do— the communicator in one of your wristbands, the one you use to keep in contact with Namjoon.
You watch the twisting of Yoonji’s body as she leans over the bed to hook the band with a finger before proffering it to you. You pause, but then grasp her wrist and lightly pull so she ends up pressed against you, softness of her breasts against your own, and you hold the communicator between your faces as you accept the call.
“Thank god you answered.” Namjoon’s voice is obviously frantic even through the tinniness of the small speaker. “Dahye cancelled the contract because Minjae wants to reconcile with her, but apparently he’s already put a hit out on you— tonight was a ruse, Minjae isn’t going to be there, you have to get out of there—”
“Bit too late for that,” you interrupt. Yoonji’s hair is tickling your cheek. “Don’t worry. I have it in hand. Send some flowers to Minjae for me, will you?”
“Flowers?” Namjoon sounds understandably confused. “Why?”
“As a thank you for taking out a contract on me,” you say. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m a little busy.”
“With what?”
“With me,” Yoonji says, and you hear Namjoon’s surprised intake of breath before you cut the line.
You end up laughing to yourself. “Oh, he’s going to hate me for that,” you giggle. Yoonji’s hand trails up your stomach and you continue to giggle at the ticklish sensation. Her skin is still slick against yours, and you suddenly realise how cold it is in the room, the air touching the cooling liquid that’s rubbed off against your skin, and you shiver. “Mm. I think it’s time to clean up. Want me to scrub your back in the shower? I give very good massages.”
Yoonji’s eyes are dark and warm before she presses her nose to your neck, lips soft as they touch the delicate skin of your throat. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
#yoonji x reader#min yoonji#yoonji smut#cypherwritersnet#bts smut#bts oneshot#one day I'll learn how to efficiently use tags... one day#joy.masterlist
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hey love, how are you? i was wondering if you could do mc (any gender) and 707 going on a dinner date:)
hello love, i'm excellent (bc of u). of course i can, anything for you :3 i've decided to use they/them pronouns in this fic so it's easier for people to insert their own pronouns and gendered language as well as it being applicable to more people yknow. anyway i hope i did this justice <3
summary: saeyoung and mc got out to dinner to end the day. unbeknown to mc, saeyoung has a surprise to ask you.
words: 1.8k
Elly The Fourth (707 x MC)
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you knew saeyoung had a tendency of being late, sometimes he’d even push it to the 15-20 minute mark. you vividly remember telling him about it in the past, but you two always came to an agreement. after all, you couldn’t stay mad when he’d grab the cat ears he had laying around, putting them on while puckering his lips to express false innocence.
however, he had failed to hold up your previous agreement of “if you are to be late, let me know beforehand”. passing a new number on the clock every time you looked up, the restaurant continued to populate with no sign of the man you longed for. boy would you let him have it this time.
you needed something new as a form of punishment. something that would make him stick to your agreements. maybe the silent treatment, or perhaps you’d whip him with the belt he spent a ridiculous amount of money on? “wait no... that wouldn’t end well on my end” you thought as your memories reminded you of his sadistic nature.
while trying to come to a consensus, the vermillion haired man entered the establishment. showing off his typical goofy, yet tender, smile as he eyed your sitting position down. you could hear the clicking of his shoes coming closer, but paid no attention as you had heard that the entire evening from strangers surrounding you.
“boo!” you hear suddenly, almost springing out of your seat, partially convinced your heart would jump out of your chest for a split second. however you had no time to take in sudden scare as your body instantly started to heat up. he arrived 25 minutes late and has the audacity to make his grand entrance by frightening you?
being met with silence on his end, he decides to quickly break the tension. “sorry i’m late, it was an accident” he says, only telling half of the truth. it was an accident in the fact that he was late and didn’t intend on being, but wasn’t an accident in the sense that he knew what he was doing beforehand.
however, he would keep that a secret until the time was right. surprises are better if they’re unexpected after all. snapping out of his thoughts, he noticed how your lips haven’t dared to move in the few minutes he’s been here. trying to come up with ways to lighten the mood while getting a response from you, he says “i’m really sorry. please forgive me and talk to me. it was for a good reason, i promise. you’ll find out soon enough”.
watching as your eyes softened and your posture lightened exactly when he was now eye level with you, he takes it as a sign to continue on with the original plan. only hoping your body language was from you being convinced by his words rather than because of your growing disappointment towards him. going to take the seat across from you, you answer “saeyoung, we’ve talked about this. why were you so late?”.
“babe, i can’t tell you yet. it’s a secret, please understand. let’s enjoy what i have planned for now and we can talk about it later, please?” he answered quickly, not giving a moment for him to accidently spill the beans. after a few seconds, he saw the look on your face as you decided to give into his proposal and make amends later.
for the next hour, tonight would strictly be about you two. he loves nothing more. once you give your verbal agreement, he gives back a small smile. one that reads of gratitude. calling the waiter over, you both receive your menus.
the food all looked so good, but it wasn’t something he’d want everyday. that kind of taste isn’t much appealing to him. after all, he only chose the restaurant because of your open wish to eat there one day. hence why in classic saeyoung style, he decided on honey garlic chicken wings. commoner food, as jumin would say. honey garlic chicken wings, honey buddha chips, close enough.
on the contrary, you were in awe at the food selection. as long as you ate a few things off the menu, you could die happy. yet shock consumed you when your eyes glided across to check out the price. it was incredibly expensive. guilt started eating you up by the second.
you couldn’t ask him to get you something, it was simply too much. your conscience wouldn’t let you. unbeknownst to you, saeyoung noticed your sudden distress. he could read you like the back of his hand. “what’s the matter?” he asked.
taken aback, you responded “well.. everythings so expensive.” you had tried to mask your emotions in the moment, but to no avail. you should’ve known better than to think your love wouldn’t have his eyes on you 24/7.
saeyoung could sense that was the issue. you had always been hesistant about spending other peoples money, however that just made him love you more. attempting to calm your worries, he says “don’t worry about it. you know i get paid well”.
you paused, thinking about his statement. “i know, but you should put that money towards savings. after all your work is illegal” you respond, after giving it a half-assed thought. your eyes peered up to find the love of your life smirking, just before replying “pshh, laws are just words on a paper”.
you had to admit, that was a playful thing for him to say. so far he had succeeded in his plans of lightening the mood, it being confirmed when you returned his reply with a giggle. god he loved hearing that giggle.
calling the waiter over again, you two placed your orders. meaning now you both were participating in the waiting game. in saeyoung’s mind, this was a perfect opportunity. he would have at least 20 minutes to explain everything he had been planning to.
so, he starts to go for it. opening by saying “so, about why i was late earlier.” now he had your full attention as you were dying to hear his reasoning so you could decide whether or not an ass whooping would be an acceptable punishment for this evenings occurrence.
“i had booked an appointment to sign some paperwork, but the appointment got moved 30 minutes. i didn’t have a choice but to leave you waiting. and i was too caught up in the moment to let you know beforehand” he continued, giving you a second to take in his words.
yet your mind began racing with questions. what paperwork? why did he need an appointment? why would he plan it for today? you left no time to waste before you let the questions out, not wanting to waste a single second.
perfect, he thought. you were going along with what he had planned out to happen beforehand. giving you your much deserved answers, he continues “well, i needed to do it today so i could give you a proper surprise. i never want you to be in any unnecessary stress, hence why i did everything in advance.”
he left you hanging for no more than a second. he loved being able to see the face you made while you were practically on the edge of your seat. he also loved the dramatic effect, the one he’d never be able to nail unless he were an experience actor. nevertheless, it was fun to try.
so to finish his statement, he lets the secret free, exclaiming “since we both have an undying love for cats, i’ve decided to adopt one. we pick her up tomorrow” giving a genuine, ever so loving, smile at the end of the long awaited sentence.
focused on your end of the table, his heart nearly exploded seeing your face go from suspense to pure joy. he couldn’t ask for anything more. you had began to let out an excited scream, only to contain yourself once the table next to you started to stare. however that didn’t stop you picking yourself up to meet the red head sitting across from you, smiling like a saint.
pulling him into a hug, you whispered “we’re really adopting a cat?” as your lips stood 2 inches away from his ear. his head pulled back from the embrace for a quick moment, only to confirm your statement with a nod of happiness.
standing there in pure bliss, fantasizing about your new life with your fur baby, you found yourself nearing crying from the overwhelming announcement. only to be brought back to reality once the waiter arrived with your meals. you pulled away, only slightly embarrassed, to become your feast.
“i’m glad you’re so excited” saeyoung spoke. god was all too good to him, he thought. you smiled, softly replying “thank you”. your eyes glanced up from your newly delivered meal to find your lover looking no different than a child being delivered delicious ice cream.
“shall we begin our meal then, 606?” he proposed. you nod, picking up the utensil placed to your right. creating the passage way for the two of you to continue your night full of bliss, no more, no less.
as you silently decided against an ass whooping as reasonable punishment.
BONUS: *on the way home*
“saeyoung” you begin, feeling the once scorching sun hit your revealed arm. “do you have a picture of our future daughter?” you ask. after receiving a gentle laugh, your eyes are met with your loves phone. once inspecting the picture, you could feel yourself melt on the spot.
“she’s adorable, isn’t she?” saeyoung asked, taking a notice of the way your eyes lit up like stars at midnight. with an aggressive yet playful nod of confirmation, in the next second he could feel the way your body pushed into his side, your arms wrapping around his torso.
“thank you so much” you let out, barely being heard from muffling yourself in your lovers flesh. although you couldn’t see it, you had a sense of saeyoungs current facial expression.
one full of excitement, love, passion, and warmth. he would treat this cat like his child, you were positive of it. and on the plus side, jumin wouldn’t have to worry about saeyoung trying to get a hold of elizabeth now.
in that moment, almost as if he heard your thoughts, he says “we should name her elizabeth the fourth, elly for short!”. there was the silly, child-like man you loved, you thought.
for the remainder of the late hours, you would be convincing saeyoung not to name her any variation of the name elizabeth the third. you knew for a fact that letting that name slide would result in a lawsuit by the morning.
elly the fourth did sound cute though... perhaps you should propose keeping it as a nickname for times jumin isn’t present.
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3:07 AST - 07/22/21
#mystic messenger#mysme#mysme fanfic#saeyoung choi#saeyoung x mc#707#mysme 707#707 x mc#luciel choi#saeyoung
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Ok, I love the role swap concept with zuko and azula, but I feel like they switch their abilities and personalities a bit too and I think itd be more fun without that. Where Azula is an antisocial and unstable genius who wants to gain power and zuko still struggles with being the less powerful and extremely empathetic sibling. So here's how I'd do it.
(Note, this is just for fun. I'm not saying anyone else's version is bad. But I've though about this so much and need it out of my head before I go off cuz make a whole comic and I do not have the time, i need to work.)
First off, Azula wouldn't call out in concern for the men like how zuko did. In my version she's allowed into the meeting because of the aptitude for strategy shes shown. She speaks up because it's an inefficient plan that uses up too many resources when there are other options. This enrages her father and leads to the agni kai. Azula is terrified and feels betrayed but has no idea how to handle any of it. She fights back during the agni kai, but in her panic she sets off a bolt of lightning. Ozai finishes the match and severely burns on her lower back. Azula is banished for her use of lightning on the fire lord (bc ozai fears she will no longer be easy to manipulate and might plot his death) and is forced to leave the next morning.
Some things to note: azula is eleven at this point. I changed the placement of the scar bc I think zuko's is very symbolic in a way that doesnt suit azula. Zuko's scar being over his eye and close to the light chakra shows the way his view of the fire nation and honour obscures his vision and how he is unaware of the truth of the world under fire nation rule. I set azula's over her spine because that chakra is based on survival and blocked by fear. It also represents trust which will fit into her arc with the gaang. Finally, she doesnt have Iroh to guide her. One of the things that bothered me was Iroh writing her off as evil despite her being a mentally unstable child. She did have to be defeated, but the way he talked about it was too dismissive. (Personally I think he was projecting his views of his brother and his perceived failures with him onto her.) Azula isnt sent to capture the avatar so she isnt given soldiers. She's completely alone without an advisor to look to or keep her calm.
Azula is given a manned ship with a disgraced soldier and an attendant when she leaves. The way I see it the soldiers zuko had were probably more irohs than his. The soldier is relieved to not be executed but hates being demoted to playing babysitter to a child at sea. The attendant views it as a punishment and hates Azula for it. Eventually the attendant will betray her and be killed for it. Azula never trusted the soldier and he eventually leaves to start a family in an earth kingdom colony. Azula doesnt miss him, he was no longer useful. The loneliness does get to her though.
Azula is obsessed with getting the underhand, so she had been successfully building connections and planting spies where needed.
(Zuko has been acting as a respectable crowned prince. He holds a zealous loyalty to his nation and father. He still faulters as Iroh tries to steer him from tyranny, but his sights are set on his father's approval and that alone. Afterall, if his prodigy could be discarded who's to say what would happen to him if he failed?)
This brings us to the start of the series. Like Zuko Azula witnesses the trap on the old fire nation battle ship go off. She investigates and finds that an air bending avatar is living at the south pole village. She decides she wants to speak with him.
Azula didn't believe the avatar existed before this point. Hiding didnt add up to her knowledge of the morality of airbenders, so she assumed the air nation avatar from the start of the war would be dead. She would know if one had appeared in the water tribe, as the south had all its benders killed and the north was compacted so close together it would be impossible to hide. Earth would be harder, but they were most likely to fight back and out act. And if in ba sing se they'd be used as a weapon or gotten rid of to preserve the peace of the city. Once the culcle progressed to the fire nation it would either be used to take over the other nations or enf the cycle for good. After all, there hasn't been an air bender for a hundred years even if the rumors of some acolytes surviving were truthful.
Azula kidnaps aang with far more ease than she should of been able to. Once he stops struggling she calmly offers him tea and promises to release him once their discussion is finished. He takes the tea and drinks it without question and besides a wary glare shows no more hostility. She thought him a fool, the tea could have easily been poisoned and promised are nothing but words. His naivete makes her job easier though.
She finds out that he was suspended frozen in the avatar state the last 100 years. And so, Azula informs him of the war and the fire nations crimes, advising him to master the elements if he wants to prevent all his new friends and the avatar cycle from certain destruction. Aang is conflicted, he never asked for any of this. Azula just gives a bitter smile. "The hands of fate were never designed to take requests, they move without regard to any life dependent on it. Dont waste your breath when there is nothing you can do."
Azula wants to see Ozai fail. If helping the avatar is what it takes then so be it. When his friends appear to save him she let's them leave without a fight. Theyll be useful in the future.
As the gaang's travels kick off she sets out to find out if the rumours about the acolytes are true. In this she finds a traveling circus. The youngest daughter and an old friend of hers was eager to escape and found Azula's life exciting. She didn't hesitate after being invited along, insisting that traveling would be easy for her and that she'd pull her own weight.
She encounters the gaang a few times as time goes by. The relationship is reluctant on the water tribe siblings part, they dont trust her and hold a decent amount of fear towards her. Her cold and calculating demeanor was unsettling, but the unhinged way she fought was terrifying. Her form was perfect and her attacks were precise, but the bigger the fight the more lost she became as she laughed and shrieked and occasionally snapped at someone who didnt seem to be there. The only worse reaction was when she zeroed in on one opponent, picking them apart both mentally and physically as she drove them to the ground. )
Things that'll happen as I move through an episode list:
Azula doesn't have her ship attacked do she diesnt run into zhao while doing repairs, instead going straight to ty lee.
Azula learns that the gaang is on kyoshi island and heads ther after them. She has been keeping track of the avatar as they move. Ty lee gets along well with the kyoshi warriors while azula buts heads with them. They dont want her there and azula hates it when people get in the way. Zhao appears to try to capture aang and Azula dips at the same time as the gaang. She tells ty lee she can stay but she insists on sticking with azula. This puts her on edge.
Ty lee gets captured by earth benders, when she escapes on her own she cements her usefulness to Azula.
They run into zhao trying to capture the avatar and azula tells him she'll capture him first. They both attack aang during the solstice, though azula's attacks are all purposefully set to miss and trip up zhao as much as possible. Aang is the best way to prove her father wrong and she's not going to lose that.
They rob the pirates that try to capture the avatar. Azula needs the resources and it gives her leverage over the gaang.
After almost killing ty lee for scaring her by popping up behind her Azula tells her why she was banished. (In more of a "my own mother thought I was a monster" way than an opening up about trauma way.)
Azula learns that zhao has captured aang and frees him. She then sets to reworking her information network as not all of them are scared enough of her to not fail her. She remedies it quickly.
Azula learns that zhao is plotting her assassination and decides it's the perfect moment to fake her death.
Azula enters the north pole to defeat zhao and gain any information she can. Ty lee rades a library during the confrontation. Zhao is surprised and infuriated to see her alive, Azula smiles as she sends him to his death knowing that she is not only helping the avatar but also that he gave her a perfect way to hide from the fire nation. (When news of his sisters death reaches hum, Zuko doesnt know what to think. She was always cruel to him, but she was still his little sister.)
The crown prince of the fire nation is sent to capture the avatar. Azula follows him as he begins his search. (Zuko begins to think he's going insane as he keeps catching glimpses of his recently deceased sister out of the corner of his eye.)
Ty lee keeps running into a girl she slowly befriends. She's gloomy and sarcastic and ty lee thinks Azula would like her. (Zuko's fiance Mai tells him that she thinks his sister is still alive.)
As Azula notices ty lee become more and more distracted as she absorbed herself into the cultures that surround them she decides it's best for them to split up. Ty lee diesnt agree, but Azula leaves anyway. She has work to do.
While traveling alone Azula cant escape the thoughts of her mother. Of her fathers betrayal. Of the life she lost because the idiot elders had no grip on proper strategy that even a child could create. She meets a boy that reminds her far too much of zuko with a mother far to similar to theirs. When she sends the bandits controlling the town running she knows it's more than just controlling a territory that compelled her. But at the same time she doubts not following through on the whim would have bothered her.
Ty lee meets toph and chat for a bit. Ty lee tells her about azula and how she left. When toph tells her she should forget her she insists that azula didnt really ditch her and that they're still friends. They talk about their friends and childhood.
Ty lee finds Azula and immidiently jumps at her, which she does not enjoy. Ty lee insists that she still wants to travel with her and Axula sighs as she let's her tag along to the next location, ba sing se.
Azula slips through guards and protocols as she tries to gain any information she can to help her once they reach the city. Ty lee befriends a guy named jet and his group, the freedom fighters. When he tries to get more than friendship she turns him down and it becomes much more awkward.
Ty lee becomes a street performer and chames everyone she meets as Azula researches the dai lee and how they keep control. After lashing out in frustration ty lee drags her out to enjoy the city's night life.
Azula learns of the presence of the avatar and location of appa. She frees him and sets to work taking control of the dai lee. She let's herself be briefly captured but her plan shifts when katara is thrown in with her. Katara is pissed just being around her and azula plays up a cool kind of annoyance. Katara briefly catches sight of the burns on Azula's back and offers to heal her, only for Azula to freak out and yell at her to stay away, backing against a far wall in a fighting stance. They are saved by the rest if the gaang and ty lee shortly after.
Azula goes back to try and salvage her plan only to be caught off guard by the appearance of her brother and his offer to return to the fire nation. Not willing to lose all possible advantages, she agrees. They battle the gaang, and when they are almost captured azula sends a bolt of lightning at aang, causing them to retreat. Katara can heal him more easily than she can maneuver them out of an execution.
Azula returns to the fire nation with her brother, mai and ty lee, starting the beginning of a large power play between her and her father. They are sent to lo and li beach house. The relationship between the siblings is tense, zuko has always been the child born with nothing who gained everything when his blessed at birth sister lost it all. Azula has always been cruel, but he cant help but let his heart catch on the moments when she's not. ("My own mother thought I was a monster, My father thought i was too difficult to keep around" "Don't let their words blind you, you need to be more careful, zuzu." "I learned the hard way to never turn your back to anyone, and the scars will always be there as a reminder if I need it." )
Azula runs into iroh, who is very disapproving of her presence. He warns her to stay away from zuko and to watch herself while at the palace. Later, zuko comes to her asking about their great grandfather. Upon being pressed he admits that he was sent a mysterious letter. He thought she was going to burn it when he handed it to her but instead the heat from the fire revealed a hidden ink. "Honestly brother, did you ever pay attention at all during lessons?" They find a autobiographical scroll of their great grandfathers life and the secret that their other great grandfather was roku. Azula scoffed at the idea of bloodlines deciding fate and quickly left. But Zuko remained conflicted.
During the day of the black sun Azula confronts Ozai. As iroh and Zuko fight the avatar. She learns that her mother left for zuko's sake and that she was never going to be fire lord. Azula tells him she'll be somthing even better and leaves the palace.
Azula and ty lee follow the gaang to the western air temple. Katara immidprntly attacks but is quickly rendered unable to bend by ty lee. Azula tells them that the only way for them to of gotten out was for Aang to be incapacitated, and she knew katara could heal him. Aang decides they can stay but have to stay distanced from everyone else.
Azula tries to teach aang fire bending but is slowly growing sick while aang is barely able to produce a puff of smoke. Unable to sleep and constantly on edge, it soon affects her bending, sending her spiraling as she loses control on the only consistent power she's ever had. Her and aang journey to find the true source of fire bending to try to help their conditions.
Still sick, Azula is itching to do anything away from the temple. Finding sokka trying to reach the boiling rock to find his father, she decides to go with him as she knows the prison well. Sokka declines but she goes anyway. They dont find his father, but they do find suki. Azula formulates a plan but they postpone when sokka's father arrives.
Azula comes up with a new plan, now reluctant to include sokka. He tells her to trust him but she insists she has no reason to. Her sickness has been getting worse and he tells her she needs to trust him, making her angry. Only when he catches her while they're escaping dies she finally begin to accept trusting him, if only slightly.
(While they're away ty lee tries to convince
Azula goes with Katara to find the man who killed her mother. Azula has no concept of why katara is so upset, which causes her to get angry. But azula tracks the man anyway.
Ember island players- azulas character has the scar across her chest. She's absolutely insane and "not entirely inaccurate, but I'd never come up with such a dumb plan." Shes also heavily implied to be more than close to ty lee, which azula has no reaction to even as the others freak out.
I havent decided the ending, zuko will probably turn to the gaang's side. I'll add more later and maybe write or illustrate a bit.
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Confidence-Bucky Barnes x Powers!Reader
(GIF credit to @sunoficarus)
Requested by anonymous: ‘Hello there angel! I've been reading your cute imagines lately and they really warmed my heart and got me out of depression cloud! so i tried to be brave and request something bcs i'm usually shy ><~ can i request a Bucky Barnes x Reader oneshot, the reader is kinda a chubby avenger and she has feelings for him but she gets sad bcs she thinks he'll never fall for someone like her bcs sh's not like the other pretty female avengers annnddd.. yeah! XD~♡’
Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader (platonic)
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Replication=Being able to make a copy of yourself, biological cloning, or the splitting of the body into multiples
Warnings: Insecurity, negative talk about weight/image, sad/crying reader, fluff
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Opening the fridge, I took out a water bottle, instantly opening it before taking a big swig. We had come back from a mission early afternoon, the team had been away for just over a week, so it was good to be back. Even though I had showered, eaten and unpacked, I still had an immense thirst in me.
"Hey, I'm making toast, you want some?" Natasha asked as she walked in.
"No, I've eaten thank you." I replied, sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar.
As she began making her food, she continued talking."You OK after the last week?"
"Yeah, just tired. The longest mission I've done is four days, it's amazing what a few more days can do to you."
"You were great out there, a real natural. Your powers are much more controlled than they used to be."
"Thanks, it's all down to the training I guess."
"And your confidence."
"Really?"
Nat placed three pieces of bread into the toaster, turning around to face me once the lever was pushed down."Yes! It wasn't like you were extremely shy when you first came, but there's a difference in you."
If only I was this confident around someone else.
“You gonna head up early tonight?” Nat asked.
“Definitely. The last time I used my powers like that was when you guys first brought me in. And that was when I didn’t have as much control over them. I think it’s a good idea, we all need the rest.”
“So am I. Actually, Dr Cho wanted to see you. She said something really medical and science-y to explain why but I made no sense to me. Something about your cells splitting...or recreating?"
"Oh, she did mention that before we left. Think she's trying to help me connect more with my replicas, so that I can confuse whoever we're attacking even more. Thanks for telling me."
She nodded, turning around once the toast popped up. I said goodbye, scrolling on my phone as I made my way to Dr Cho's lab. My power to basically clone multiple versions of myself seemed useless at first, until I figured out how to control them and thought about tactics they were useful in. It was very strategic, everything had to be carefully planned. But now that I was getting used to it, everything seemed like second nature. And I had the team to thank for that.
"Hey (Y/N), thanks for coming by." Helen greeted as I walked into her lab, holding her tablet as she usually did.
"Hi. So, am I being wired up to a machine today?"
She smiled."No, nothing like that. Tony and I have been working together on something that will ensure you can keep track of all your replicas."
Helen turned her back to me, grabbing a tray with what looked like four silver bracelets. She gestured for me to stand by her as she placed the tray on the table in front of us.
"These are your new accessories." she started, picking up a pair."You'll wear them when on missions, and these will be able to connect you to any replicas you create. It's just to help you keep a better track. And any time they are hurt in anyway, the energy from the hit will drive into your bracelet."
"Like T'Challa's armour?"
Helen nodded."But instead of propelling back that energy, it'll just mean your replica can hold the energy and use it as a shield. Say someone was stood behind it and the enemy attacked the replica, the real person behind them would be safe."
"That's amazing!"
She held out her hand, wanting me to give her my wrist. I complied, letting her put the bracelets on me. They glowed blue before returning to the silver colour, feeling weightless on me.
"They're able to become translucent depending on what uniform you're wearing. That way they won't be able to differentiate you from your replicas."
"Wow, thank you."
"Don't thank me just yet. We still need to trial them. I definitely need Tony for this, just to make sure he's happy with them."
"I think he's gone to rest right now."
With a cheeky grin, she said,"Don't worry, he won't mind, this is important."
Helen left me by myself, and I felt slightly awkward around all of the expensive and confusing technology that surrounded me. A thought flashed in my mind to try out the bracelets, but I decided against it, not wanting to risk anything going wrong. Slipping them off and placing them back on the table, I caught myself in the reflection of the windows. My hands subconsciously moved to my stomach, brushing against it before grabbing the skin; they traced upwards to my forearms, repeating my actions despite my brain screaming that I shouldn't. It grossed me out every time, why would I want to touch those parts of me?
Turning to look at myself side on, I sighed at how stomach looked, almost wincing as my gaze travelled down to my thighs. All that training, the healthy meals I ate, where were the results? Why didn't I look like Natasha or Wanda?
I battled with my conscious everyday over this. The tiniest part of it begged me to not look at myself that way, not to throw my hard work away or belittle myself over such a thing; but that was an extremely rare thing to happen, and that voice was hard to hear. The voice that spoke much too often had something completely different to say. It would force me to look at myself whenever I passed anything reflective, to make sure I looked decent, although I never did. It wanted to point out my flaws, it wanted to make me aware and punish me for looking like this,despite all the hard work I put into training. And training had never been about losing weight, it was purely strengthening, learning how to fight/defend myself as well as keep up with my stamina.
Taking a deep breath in, I faced myself properly, squeezing my hands in and out of fists as I replicated myself, scanning my eyes over every single version of me. There were seven of me altogether, three replicas on either side of me, and I wondered why I even thought about doing this to myself. I made each replica turn more than the other, meaning I was looking at myself at every angle, and I hated all of them. It wasn't fair. Why was my power to make copies of myself when I didn't even like the one, true version of me?
"(Y/N)?" someone startled me, my replicas instantly disappearing.
Whipping around as my concentration broke, my face broke out into a blush as I saw Bucky standing in the doorway. It just had to be him, why couldn't it have been anyone else?
"Y-yes?" I stuttered, immediately breaking eye contact.
"Sorry, I needed to speak to Dr Cho."
"Sh-she, uh, she just left, a-actually."
"OK, I'll come by later." I glanced up, seeing him move to leave before turning back to me."You sure you're alright?"
I nodded."Mhm."
He slowly nodded, but mostly to himself."Good job this week by the way, you were great."
I hated how hot I was feeling after the compliment, even when he was gone I felt embarrassed by myself. Did he see me looking at myself like that? He must have thought I was an absolute weirdo for doing such a thing!
Helen reappeared, a yawning Tony following in behind her."Right, this shouldn't take too long-"
"I'm sorry, I don't think I can do this right now." I blurted out."I’m really tired and I want to make sure that the results are accurate."
They were taken back by my snappy tone, slowly nodding as I refrained from bolting out of the room. Brushing past them, my hands instantly wrapped around my torso, making a beeline towards the elevator. My breaths were sort and sharp as I hit the button, fingers poking into my sides as I crossed them again. Why wasn’t I toned? Why was I able to grab so much skin? Once I was out of the elevator, I picked up the pace towards my room, resisting slamming the door to not gain any more attention. Grabbing the throw at the end of my bed, I threw it over the mirror, making sure I could not see any part of myself before I collapsed onto my bed, covering myself with the bed sheets.
Silent sobs ran through me as I gripped onto the sheets that were bunched up around me. I hated my mind, I hated how I looked, I hated how I could never be at peace with how I looked. Sleep would come to me late tonight, but only once I exhausted myself from crying. And I hoped that I would not dream tonight.
Waking up, I felt how dry my moth and lips were, and also where the tears had stained my cheeks, as well as my pillow. My neck was aching from the position I had fallen asleep in, it felt worse as I pushed myself up into a sitting position. Rubbing my eyes, I coughed to clear my throat, definitely needing water after I felt how hoarse it was. Although it would have been so much easier to stay holed up in my room all day, avoid questions from everyone (even making small talk could reveal how I was really feeling), staying here would cause more fuss than needed.
"Good morning Miss (Y/L/N)." Vision greeted as I walked the halls.
"Morning." I mustered up the best smile.
"I hope I am not coming across as rude or interfering, but are you alright?"
I nodded, hiding my panic."Yeah, just a little tired from the mission. And I think overwhelmed, it's been my longest one yet."
"That is understandable. Though I am sure the experience will serve you well in future missions, especially with your stamina."
"Yep, hopefully."
Vision hadn't done anything wrong, he was being a good friend. But my mind wondered whether anything had been said about me. Did I look bad? Did I look exhausted? Why did he mention stamina? He could have just left that part out. I engaged with more small talk as we made our way down to the kitchen (Vision liked to be part of an everyday routine), though part of me wished that I was alone again.
"Ah, morning Mr Barnes." Vision said as we walked in, and I instantly cringed.
"Morning." Bucky mumbled, sending a small smile our way, but I quickly looked elsewhere. He was finishing a bowl of cereal as he sat at the kitchen island.
"Miss (Y/L/N), could I tempt you with a fully cooked breakfast? Something that is full of nutrition but still quite enjoyable? I believe it would help with your recovery." Vision offered.
"Oh, that's very kind Vis." I quietly said."But I'll just stick to coffee for now."
"You sure? I wouldn't pass up that opportunity." Bucky added.
I could only muster,"Mhm." before focusing on the coffee machine in front of me.
"Well, the offer stands if you wish for it." Vision said, and I could tell I had upset him.
He said his goodbyes to us as he left, leaving me alone with Bucky. Keeping my back to him, I played with the end of my sleeves, coming up with normal answers that I could say if Bucky started asking questions. I knew that even with backup answers, I wouldn't be able to speak properly to him, my mind would go blank.
"You should have something to eat really. At least an apple or something." Bucky said.
"I'll have one once I've woken up more. Don't feel like eating just yet, think I'm overtired."
"Just make sure you're looking after yourself."
I poured out the coffee into a mug, prepared to leave when I caught Bucky looking at me. My demeanour became smaller, shy, more withdrawn.
"What were you doing the other day? In the lab?"
"I...was testing out a new gadget Tony and Dr Cho created for me."
"(Y/N), I don't want to make assumptions-"
"Then believe what I say. Why would I be lying?"
He looked shocked."I didn't say anything like that."
My eyes cast down, panic setting into my mind, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. Forgetting about my coffee, I gave myself no other choice than to run away from any confrontation. I thought that would be the end of it, it usually was, but I heard footsteps behind me, heavy ones, belonging to Bucky. At first, I kept going, hoping he was just going to call out to me before giving up, but again, I was wrong.
“(Y/N), please!” Bucky pleaded.
Not knowing where to go made me falter, it was only for a split second, that was enough time for Bucky to open a door and drag me inside. Breaking away from him, I sighed when I realised we were in an old conference room; it was empty now, no furniture or screens, it was currently being upgraded and renovated. However, that also meant no one would have any intention of walking in, meaning we were very likely to not be interrupted.
“Bucky, I don’t want to talk about this.” I rushed out.
“So there is something wrong!” he exclaimed, but kept his tone calm.
“It doesn’t concern you.”
“You’re my friend, my teammate (Y/N), I care about you.”
“Fine! You want to know what’s wrong? I’m surrounded by images of strong, fit people, who I work just as hard as, yet I never look like them! I train and train and train, but for some cruel reason, my body never changes. Sure, I’ve slimmed down slightly since I arrived here, but it’s not enough for me. I’ve been called a superhero, I fight alongside all of you with your slim physiques, huge muscles and beautiful faces; so when I see a picture, or news footage of us fighting, I look like the odd one out, the huge odd one out. I don’t look right standing beside any of you, even an agent from S.H.I.E.L.D.”
Bucky didn’t say anything. His mouth was slightly open, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed as he continued staring at me. I scoffed, facing away from him.
“Now you’re seeing it. Or at least your thoughts about me are confirmed. I understand. I know you guys are my friends, you don’t care what I look like. But you must look at me in the line up and think I look out of place.”
“(Y/N), I could never look at you, or think of you in that way.”
“You don’t have to pity me-”
“I’m not. (Y/N), you don’t realise how beautiful you are.”
I glanced over my shoulder, shocked by his sentence.“Don’t do this to make me feel better, because it doesn’t work.”
He took a step closer to me.“How long have you been holding this in for?”
“I’m a woman who’s been bigger than everyone else around me my entire life, and I also have powers which made me a freak before people realised I could save them. So, basically my whole life.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why would anyone in my position want to speak up about this? You didn’t say anything when your nightmares came back.”
I saw that throw him off.
“I’m sorry Bucky, I didn’t mean to...to mention it, or-”
“No, you’re right. I know what it feels like to keep something to yourself. You don’t want to burden anyone around you, especially the ones you love. You think it’s not that important, that you can handle it by yourself, or you can ignore it until it goes away. But that’s not the right way to handle things. I can see that, looking back on everything.”
“But your nightmares were worth talking about. They scarred you, reminded you of that awful past. I’m a stupid girl crying over weight that can easily be shifted if I just work harder.”
“You would work yourself to death if you did that. (Y/N), I see you everyday training hard, making sure your powers are being improved everyday, going over tactics you can use by yourself or with the team. Everyday you ensure you are at your best because you want to help people out there that can’t defend themselves. If people judge you on how you look instead of your actions, they’re not even worth thinking about.”
Letting my arms drop to my sides, I faced Bucky, gathering enough courage to look him in the eyes.“Thanks Bucky.”
“(Y/N) I mean it. I’m not saying this to just be nice. You matter to me.”
“I know-”
“No, you don’t. I...I really like you (Y/N). And I know you may not see me in the same way, but you’re such a caring, powerful and hard working person. We come back from a mission, and you could be carried out on a stretcher but you still keep positive and make sure everyone else is safe before yourself. I’m telling you this because...well it just feels right. I’m also not making this up because you need validation from a man to make you feel better about yourself. You should be able to look at yourself in the mirror and love what you see, no matter what you look like.”
My chin was trembling as my lips pursed, trying to hold back my tears. Shaky breath escaped my nostrils, and as Bucky kept looking at me with those nurturing, safe eyes, I broke. No one had ever said something like that to me. I could tell he meant it. He wouldn’t be putting all this effort into this if he just wanted to be a good friend.
“Do...do you really mean it?” my voice wobbled.
He smiled.“Yes.”
Bucky wrapped his arms around me tenderly, pulling me into his chest. Surprisingly, my instincts made me quickly copy, gripping onto his t-shirt as I started sobbing. My mind was confused. One minute I was absolutely hating myself, then I had covered up my sadness, panicking because someone was about to see me break, and here I was, letting it all out in front of him. But I didn’t feel embarrassed like I thought I would. It felt amazing to feel that dragging weight on my shoulders suddenly lift away, the comfort of someone else was welcoming.
“Th-thank you Bucky.” I sniffed.“I’ve always thought that I need to keep this sort of thing to myself. I’ve been terrified to even be sad, even though I know it’s OK to be sad, but for some reason, my mind would never let me. It’s been building up inside of me, I’ve never been able to express myself properly.”
“We’re here for you, I’m here for you. I’ll always be here to listen...and you tell you how beautiful you are every time I see you.”
I giggled as I pulled away, wiping my cheeks.“You don’t have to do that.”
“I do. I want to.”
“Thank you Bucky, I really appreciate your help.”
He kissed my forehead.“I’ll always be here.”
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