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licorice-tea · 3 months

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The Bane of My Existence

Pairing:Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: some spoilers for Sabaody arc (nothing major), enemies to lovers! strawhat reader, reader and law are both stubborn and argumentative smh, reader is more optimistic though, law is awkward and not great at understanding his own feelings <3

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: part 1/2 for a little enemies to lovers fic! one of my favorite tropes but I almost never write about it... also I've been rewatching bridgerton and was very inspired by the relationship between Kate and Anthony, which is where the title comes from too! (can you guess what part 2 will be called?) anyway, enjoy and lmk your thoughts! :)

Part 2

Sabaody Archipelago is easily one of the coolest places you’ve visited so far. Not that Alabasta, Skypiea, Water 7, Thriller Bark weren’t cool too… but you’re a people person! And to get to see such a diverse mix of groups from all over the world converging here, on one island Archipelago, brings a genuine smile to your face. It truly does remind you of a theme park: from the attractions to the oversized trees and bubbles.

In fact, you’re so caught up in all the splendors of the carnival-esque grove that you don’t realize you’re being watched. Or, followed, rather.

The Heart Pirates, yet another crew from some vague corner of the world, have been tracking you for the better part of an hour now. Except, they’re only following their captain, who happens to be following you.

Hes not entirely discreet about it though, because at one point Bepo asks, “Um… Captain, why are we following them?”

Shachi responds unprompted, “Yeah, I’ve never seen their bounty poster so… what’s up?”

Law scowls, “I’m not following anyone.”

Though he is low-key following you, Law couldn’t give a good reason as to why. You walked past him and his crew on your way to meet up with the rest of your crew- the Strawhat Pirates- and he’d just sort of trailed after you once you’d gotten a safe distance ahead.

“Really? Because every time they stop for directions, we slow down. And we’ve turned at all the same spots, too… So it really does seem like we’re follo-“

“I am NOT following them.” He lies through (literally) gritted teeth.

Now, Trafalgar Law is in now way shape or form a believer in love at first sight. He’s never been in love period… but the feeling he gets from seeing you is something new and foreign. Like, he really wants to talk to you… he just doesn’t know what for. Law is still trying his best to come up with reasons to stop you and ask for your name when you overhear the brief argument between him and his friends.

With a quick glance over your shoulder, you spot a group of at least 10 on your trail. They’re in the middle of conversation, so they don’t notice you taking notice of them.

Your first instinct is to look around for your crew; but of course, they’re scattered across the groves of Sabaody Archipelago by now - as are you. “Sigh. I might just have to handle this in my own.” But, wait- who said they wanted to fight you? Maybe you should just approach them first, wouldn’t that give you the upper hand in some way? (It wouldn’t, but you can’t think of anything better than to try and charm your way out of a possible jumping with your friendliness and perfect smile.) So, you roll back your shoulders and take a breath before strolling back over the grass to your pursuers.

“Why would I be following some rand-“

“Because you have a crush on them!”

“Oh they’re cute, Captain, you should ask them to join!”

“Gasp! Yeah, then you can get to know-“

They all go silent (save for some quiet gasps) as you step toward the semi circle they’ve formed around one man- the only one not wearing a white uniform, who they call “Captain.” You tap him on the shoulder and he whips his head around.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?”

The man just stares at you for a moment with a frown. You fear that you might’ve been wrong about his intentions, until he blinks and mumbles, “Uh… Sure.”

Your smile returns- of course you weren’t wrong! Plus, he’s kind of hot, but you’d catalog that thought and come back to it on some lonely night in the future. “Great! I’m looking for grove 41, it’s where some of my friends are.”

You’d learned back in Water 7 that sometimes, it was best not to disclose who exactly you’re traveling with, nor the location of your ship. (At least, not when you’re infamous pirates.)

“Grove 41? I’m headed there too.”

The polar bear wearing who is also wearing a white uniform clears his throat.

“I thought we were heading to Grove 1, Captain?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to get in y’all’s way then-“

“Nah, I think Captain would love to show you the way.”

“Shachi!” The captain sneers. “We’ll meet back up at Grove 1 after I show them the way." Then, he looks you up and down. It's quick and analytical rather than flirtatious or intimidating. "Don’t cause me any trouble.”

You smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m y/n, by the way.”

“Trafalgar Law, and this is my crew, the Heart Pirates.” He gestures around the semi circle, then turns to face them, “You guys go take a break or something. I’ll be back shortly.”

“But Captain, we want to go with you!”

One of the men with red hair- Shachi, you’re pretty sure, elbows the polar bear.

“Hey!…” He looks down at Shachi then gasps like he suddenly had a revelation; “Ohhh. Sorry Captain, we’ll see you later!”

Law rolls his eyes. “See you soon.”

There's something about his dark hair and grey eyes that charms you, right off the bat. Or maybe it's his relaxed, confident demeanor. Possibly even his idiosyncratic style of clothing, and how he (and all of his crew) wore the same logo; so very organized and professional. But no matter the exact reason as to why, you find yourself quite happy to be in his company.

Alas, he’s not a very talkative man, so you make up most of the conversation with questions and your own introductory information. “-and that’s how I got here, to Sabaody!”

“Uh huh. And who did you say your crew was again?”

“I, ahem, I don’t travel with a crew.”

“Right.” He laughs dryly.

“What is it?”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I- I’m not lying!”

“Look, you don’t have to tell me what crew you’re a part of,” Law explains, “but don’t lie and say you’re not a pirate at all.”

“Well… it’s generally not a good idea to tell strangers that you’re a pirate. Not even nice ones, like you."

Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach that unexpectedly appear when you call him nice, Law's burning curiosity is fed by your roundabout half-answer. “Ah, so you are one? What’s your bounty?”

“That’s not really any of your business.” Though you believe his intentions to be purely based in curiosity, you're second guessing allowing this man to lead you away on an island grove that you have never visited, nor know anything about. Still, your crew is nowhere in sight or hearing range, which worries you given just how loud they usually are.

“I’m paying you a favor by leaving my crew to escort you to where I’m assuming your ship is located- it’s the least you could do.” Law’s tone is more prickly than before.

“Well, I don’t need an escort, and you’ve already walked me halfway there and pointed me in the right direction.”

“Fine- then I’ll leave.”

His sudden change in mood from what you interpreted as shy to borderline aggressive throws you off. And so, having a similar moody temperament and stubbornness (though you’d never admit it after seeing it so clearly in him), you return the sentiment. “Fine by me.”

You continue walking forward while Law turns back, until he calls over his shoulder. “And by the way; you’ll need to find your way through the lawless zone up ahead if you want to get to Grove 41.” If condescending was a person, it would be him. You’re sure of it. “That, or I could’ve shown you a much safer shortcut.”

You pause, turn to face him, roll your eyes, and continue walking.

“What, you’re still not going to ask for my help?”

“Don’t need it!” Which, you really don’t. You’re plenty strong, but your bounty is small enough to not be worried. “I’m not scared of a law-less zone, if anything I think I’d welcome it.”

Your mocking words hurt his ego in a way he hasn't felt in years, taking him down several pegs.

You don't even stick around long enough to listen to him rebuke everything about you, from your high and mighty tone to your vain attempts at lying, ending his one sided argument with a very classy middle finger your way. So, Law grumbles all the way back to Grove 1 to find his crew, and hopes to never see you again. Meanwhile, you find your way to the other Strawhats. Your adventure with them continues, and you don’t have much time to think of your earlier encounter with a handsome pirate and possible-friend turned enemy (if you could even call him that.)

Law doesn't know if his ego (or wildly beating heart) could take another second in your presence- it just might burst if it had to endure any more of your witty comments or sly looks. It would, however, be an interesting theory to test further, should you ever meet again.

The prospect is both horrifying and thrilling to him at the same time.

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #x reader #law x reader #law x you #law fluff #straw hat pirates #trafalgar law #law

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idontknowreallywhy · 7 months

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Play it Out - part 3 of… it’s anyone’s guess at this point…

I promise I am definitely fixing this, the two of them are just taking a really long time about it… and this chapter got quite long before I got anywhere near to the point. Err, enjoy anyway?

This will make even less sense if you haven’t read Part 1 and Part 2… (AO3 link)

Virgil carefully stowed his tools in Two’s specifically designed storage compartments and stretched, stifling a yawn. He checked his watch - 2am already! Gordon had bailed and disappeared off to bed a while ago but he hadn’t realised it had got quite so late… he’d got thoroughly absorbed in those calibrations though and it was satisfying to have it finished.

He wiped his hands on his jeans and made his way over to the elevator, turning to look back at the big green behemoth as he waited for the door to open. He was now 3 weeks ahead on his ship’s routine maintenance schedule and she was purring like a kitten. Between the familiar but challenging work and Gordon’s background chatter, he’d been doing a great job of not thinking too much either. Which was… good. Hopefully if he ignored the weird existential angst feeling for long enough it would go away and he’d get back into the more healthy habit of loving his life.

Which he did.

So.

All would be well.

As he passed through the lounge he was relieved not to find Scott there working until the early hours again. He’d seemed more tense and frowny than usual the last few days and Virgil was incredibly thankful he’d resisted the temptation to unburden himself to his big brother. The last thing that man needed was anything more to worry about.

Not that he wasn’t eaten up with guilt about it anyway. There was a good reason he was never deliberately untruthful with Scott - it felt like a betrayal even if he knew it was for the best. He was a horrible liar at the best of times, and now he could feel his face burning whenever his brother caught his eye. Every time Scott spoke to him, Virgil’s treacherous heart jumped into his mouth and he was almost overcome by the need to confess everything.

Not that there was much to tell.

Except that he was a fool who needed to get a grip and be grateful.

With stealth borne out of years of practice he crept on silent feet past the rooms of his younger brothers and paused at his own, glancing over at Scott’s. A prickle of… something ran through him and he was seized by the sudden urge to burst in and demand a big bro hug. It had been a few days, in fact, since his last. But Scott slept little enough as it was. Tomorrow, then.

Gosh he was tired. He opened the door and made a beeline for the bathroom, beginning to pull his shirt over his head as he walked. He became vaguely aware of a rustling noise from the vicinity of his right foot and shook it irritably, failing to shed whatever had got stuck to his sock. Flannel tangled over his face he reached down and removed the sock, random scrap of paper and all and abandoned it behind him.

Once the grease was washed from his hands and teeth thoroughly brushed he drifted back into the bedroom and went to stand at the window. He squinted into the grey, his eyes finding nothing to focus on as the low lying cloud reflected the light from his bedside table straight back at him. He shivered, despite the villa’s consistent, comfortable temperature.

Tracy Island’s sub-tropical winters were very mild compared to those he’d experienced growing up, but the cooler temperatures combined with the frequent sea mists still made him long to hibernate. He pulled the blinds down and shut it out.

Flicking through the playlist on his tablet, he sought a track guaranteed to send him extra quickly into the land of nod for who knew how long he had before a rescue dragged him back into unwelcome consciousness. He smiled with satisfaction as he hit play on the snooze-jackpot - a soaring violin solo by a British composer - and collapsed face first on to his pillow to enjoy the fine arcs of spring green sound swoop and flutter around him like the songbird it celebrated.

And relax.

He was just on the edge of sleep and beginning to drool slightly when the change in texture brought by the woodwind entry nudged him awake again and he realised something was niggling at his sense of peace. With a huff he turned on to his side and opened his eyes. What had he forgotten?

The sock stared back at him.

Virgil considered himself a fairly tidy person, nothing on the military precision of his father or eldest brother but preferring a significant level of order higher than the younger two. An abandoned sock wouldn’t usually bother him however but, well, turned out a lot of irrelevant things were apparently bothering him lately.

He slid out of bed and commando crawled over to the sock in order to banish it to the laundry basket. It made a unexpected crinkly sort of noise and he pulled out the paper, realising with surprise it was a sheet of the fancy monogrammed stuff his dad had stockpiled long ago but nobody ever used in this digital age. Curious.

Humming to himself, he unfolded the note and the bottom fell out of the world.

A week’s worth of dropped eye-contact and excuses slammed into him like a runaway freight train. The background music was drowned out by a sudden high pitched ringing in his ears and a nausea that threatened to overwhelm his senses as he suddenly saw his attempts to hide the truth from his brother’s perspective. He looked at his watch and swore profusely - 3am.

How could he have been so short-sighted? So selfish? Of course Scott would interpret Virgil’s avoidance of him as a failing of his own.

And he knew… he KNEW his big brother experienced rejection as physical pain. He may as well have kicked Scott in the stomach. In fact, that would have undoubtedly been less cruel.

He struggled back into his discarded clothes, panic making him clumsy and his mind flooded with memories of seeking out his trembling brother in the hayloft. Of finding his hero curled up in agony, borderline incoherent and paralysed by the conviction he’d let their overworked and well-meaning but infuriatingly oblivious father down *again*. That he’d never be good enough.

It had always been Virgil’s job to look him in the eye and promise him that he was.

Not as much had altered in their adulthood as Scott seemed to believe, except that his over-achieving brother hid that pain better from the world. From everyone except Virgil. Because that certainly hadn’t changed - Virgil would always be there for Scott, would always hear that hitch in his breath, the subtle change in the melody of his voice. He would always catch him as he fell, would always seek him out and would never leave him alone.

Until now.

It must have cost his brother so much to write that note and Virgil had just… not showed up.

Stealth abandoned he raced to Scott’s door, only just restraining himself from barging straight through it - he might be peacefully asleep… maybe.

He cracked open the door and recoiled as a blade of cold damp air rushed into his face.

The room was empty. Bedclothes neat and smoothed down, fluffy scatter cushions at 45 degree angle to the bottom edge of the pillow and… an ancient guitar propped up against the headboard. That gave Virgil pause, Scott hadn’t got that out in… a long time. He reached out and brushed his index finger across the strings. It was in tune. He’d been playing then?

His attention was caught by the curtains billowing from the open balcony door, the luxurious material making a low whomp whomp whomp as it flapped back and forth.

His brother had returned from duty with an Air Force zero tolerance approach to clutter but a very definite inclination towards soft furnishings. He shuddered to imagine why.

Surely he wasn’t still out there at this time? In this weather?

Thrusting the drapes aside he all but threw himself on to the balcony, the exasperated reprimand almost on its way out of his lips before his brain caught up with the fact that both easy chairs were distinctly empty. Two glasses and a bottle of Virgil’s favourite whisky waited on the table between them. Unopened.

His hands white-knuckled on the balcony rail, as he peered out into the mist, racking his mind for where Scott could be - maybe he would have taken a hazardous, self-punishing run up the volcano? Would he have gone to hide on the beach? There were caves down there and some of them were tidal, would his brother be thinking straight enough to choose a safe place to tuck himself away? His heart hammered against his rib cage as he tried to work out where to start. Should he call John?

He half raised his arm to activate his comm and froze as the faintest of sounds interrupted his train of thought - a shuddering breath and a whisper of a sigh.

Virgil spun around and his already compromised ventricles were strangled even further as the shadow tucked into the tiny space between the far lounger, the wall and an outsized plant pot resolved itself into a tight ball of limbs and a pale chin just visible beneath an oversized hoodie.

How like his commanding tower of a brother to try to make himself small.

Little music vibe note: the piece Virgil chooses is The Lark Ascending by Vaughan Williams

All the love to @sofasurf @astranite @womble1 @hebuiltfive for incitement their encouragement, sense checking and specifically detailed discussion of soft furnishings.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #play it out #earth and sky #earth&sky #everything is music #music!virgil

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linaket · 3 months

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Monthly Update (Feb 6, 2024)

It has definitely been... a January. This year, I had a lot of plans and goals relating to my writing, but a lot of them are already not going through. One was to do weekly or monthly updates, kind of like when I did weekly updates while working on TS. But, it's still early in the year, so I figure its better late than never. Also still early in the month even if I didn't manage to get this out there at the end of January...

My personal life has been a bit hectic. First thing was that some major projects in the house I planned to have completed last year were finally finished this month--I have all new windows installed in my house now, and a new door, and while I didn't personally do the windows (I did install the door, though) it takes a lot of time to prep before and clean up after reno projects and get the house back in order, so I've spent the last two weeks on this. Additionally, I'd applied for a promotion at work, and then was coated in stress waiting for the results... (which I received a few days ago... and I got it! Been a long time coming, really.)

So this is the first one of these... just gonna throw things out here and decide on a format as they go.

Books Read

Finally completed The Fifth Season trilogy by N. K. Jemison. I wanted to finish this one last year, but the last book lingered into the new year.

All the Hidden Paths by Foz Meadows

The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw

The Dead Take The A Train by Cassandra Khaw & Richard Kadrey

Important Posts

I shared a summary of my 2024 writing goals/wips on instagram. I meant to bring this over to tumblr and do a bit more on it but... didn't. Maybe this month?

Shadow's Prey: Act 1 wip intro here on tumblr

Writing

30k on Mortal Teeth. 15 chapters done of.. ?? a lot probably. 40 something, at least, if not 50-60 range. This completed the second major arc/goalpost (there are about 5 of these at the moment)

Shadow's Prey: Act 1 formatting is moving along well, and so it's still on time for a March release. I may aim more for mid March, depends on how quickly I'm able to finish up the extras and get some promo in. I really wish I could figure out exactly what size image it takes to make a full-page image in ebooks, but I think I'm going to have to settle for the title page not being... perfect. Which. Does not make me happy. But there really isn't a way to appease every e-reader, as they are all different sizes, so I am finding there is only so much I can control here.

Favorite Excerpt

I wrote a lot of things in Mortal Teeth that I was proud of this past month, but one of my favorite things I ran across when writing was realizing that my writing has improved... massively. It's been a while since I've had a leap of growth that I can easily pinpoint, but the extra I planned for SP Act 1 was partially written, and I needed to work on it. I kept getting stuck on continuing because something about it felt off/forced when I tried, so I did the classic open a new doc and retype/rework as I go... and quickly realized why I was having trouble working on it. My style had shifted dramatically....

This isn't a major point in the short, but I wrote the beginning of this around the middle of last year and it went from this:

Whereas Kanna actively ignored Masao’s approach, Ira glared at him in challenge. “Here,” Kanna said, drawing Ira’s attention by offering Amon’s reins as a lead. “Find someone to tend him, and get me a count of the survivors.” Masao’s voice at her back carried a smirk she could feel between her shoulder blades. “What about the casualties?”

to this:

While Ira glared at Masao in challenge, Kanna actively ignored him. Though she was coated with the blood of those she’d killed, her hands to her wrists to her elbows with it, Masao delighted in his stain. Even here, with the smell of death in the air and the unholy silence that followed battle, he smiled. The joy he radiated amidst destruction unsettled her, something deep inside of her flinching from it. Kanna gathered Amon’s reins, drawing Ira’s attention by offering them. “Find someone to tend him, and get me a count of the survivors.” Masao’s voice at her back carried a smirk she could feel between her shoulder blades. “What about the casualties?”

Final Thoughts

I was excited to get through another phase of MT in writing, but I don't think the time I've allotted to finish the draft is going to be enough. This stresses me out a bit, because I gave myself a pretty tight schedule for the year with all the releases (there are 4 ebooks, and I was considering restarting Act 4 in the serial which would be 5 releases total....)

I'm actually... thinking once again that I won't go back to serial posting for SP. Tapas was/is my primary platform for it, and I am simply... no longer a fan of the platform, and not really interested in others, either. So that might be one of the things in the "coming this year" that ends up pushed to next year or later this year, depending, as it will likely be an ebook release instead of serial and... I'm still working on drafting the teeth wip and I don't see it taking a backseat for a while, until I'm truly stuck.

I've been trying not to beat myself up about not doing the things I said I'd do at the start of the year (daily journaling, more updates here and other platforms, etc) because it's simply... not great for me. And really, I'm not sure I would have had the aforementioned improvement in my writing if I'd continued to stress myself out about writing itself, on top of doing all these other things that I'm supposed to do. I took it pretty easy last year after a massive disappointment, shutting down a lot of my online presence and focusing on reading and writing for myself, and I think that's what allowed me to become comfortable again and led to growth. I don't want to feel as defeated as I had that time, because its the kind of thing that would have led to me completely giving up in my younger years, and I also don't want to get stagnant because I'm trying to do too much that isn't... the actual writing. So... I guess we'll see how this goes?

#linaupdates #writeblr

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tortoisesshells · 28 days

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1, 3 and 4 for the writing excerpt meme? :D

1. ... that makes me smile:

Customs doesn't usually have much for anyone to smile about, and they're five minutes away from an extraordinarily loaded conversation about justice, but for now, Nellie thinks Ursa Minor looks like a goose:

“Well, your education was likely significantly more comprehensive on this score than mine, Commodore.” “Undoubtedly. But Nellie, I really cannot see a goose.” She sighed, and glanced up at him. “If you are determined to laugh at me –” “I am not laughing –” “James.” “I am not laughing now,” he amended, “I am curious. What you see is what you see. I cannot tell you that you are wrong there.” “If you promise,” she said, and raised a hand to gesture at the sky, again. “There, the North Star. That’s the head. Those little stars arcing behind it are the long neck. The little box – the one with the other bright star in the lot, I don’t know it’s name but you see it, there? – that’s the body of the thing. I suppose I’ve been imagining that its wings are folded in – that it’s paddling about on some mill pond in the sky.” When described in this way, it did resemble a goose peering into the shallows for food. James said so, and Nellie, limited by the darkness as his perception of her was, fairly preened.

3. ... that encompasses my style:

Answered here, but: I don't usually do kid/adolescent narrators, but this passage from had you not better make One of us does have my usual belaboring of historical detail for characterization, and a character playing chicken and losing with their own emotions and memory. Also, I do think this one of my better attempts at Elizabeth from POTC at any age:

She frowned at this – why on earth would a man not want to travel? Instead of being stuck in a great dreary northern place which (Elizabeth glanced over at her father’s prized globe, finding this Massachusetts Bay by the great ungainly sweep of a cape that always put her in mind of a prize-fighter’s arm) probably had bears and snow. She had not seen the latter in some two years, and did not miss it at all – she had never seen a bear, though, since Papa had a weak constitution and tended to faint at the sight of blood, which meant for all her pleading she’d never seen the baiting-pits in Paris Garden in London – or anywhere else, besides. She had seen a bear skull once, in one of her father’s friend’s curio-cabinets, between curious-looking coins of long-dead Roman emperors and rocks that man had (in a superior tone which immediately made Elizabeth lose interest) called glossopetrae. Someone later told her that those hand-sized rocks they were ancient shark-teeth, which had set her to staring at the inscrutable waves with fear and fascination. But she was ignoring the conversation, which she ought not to do – she was something like the lady of the house, even though she was too young for the position she’d inherited when Mama had – “Then your family is in Massachusetts Bay?” she asked quickly, to stem the unwelcome thoughts she’d just had.

4. ... with dialogue I'm proud of:

Answered here, but! Love a character who says outrageous things with a smile. From another shoreline, in another life:

Roger snorted. “It’s the fire for us, Vicki. You might as well find your comfort where you can.” She glanced at him, chewing at her lip for a half-moment. “Ought I to – take one of the other rooms?” “Don’t be ridiculous. Take advantage of the foresight of our ancestors and stay by the stove.” “I’d like to lie down.” He looked at her, unsure at first, and then – entertained. “And you would rather a door be between us? You are taking this journey into the past very seriously. It’s not 1866.” Vicki demurred, feeling as though she had to explain herself, but not finding the words for what she meant to say. She was his sister’s employee – his son’s tutor – she’d need another job after this one, whenever that was. None of it was very articulate, and she watched miserably as Roger add another log to the stove. “If it distresses you that much,” he said, looking over his shoulder at her, with an expression she could not have parsed even in the frank light of day, “I will take one of the other rooms. Though – I’m not enough of a gentleman not to ask for your coat.”

send me a number and I'll share an excerpt of my writing!

#thank you for the ask kind friend!#ask meme #polkaknox talks

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sharksa-shivers · 7 months

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Real talk tho, why does Sharky self neglect himself so much? Tw: Self hate, depression, suicide talk, ect

I feel like i will get asked this atttt some point...So i will pre-empt it and answer it now so i can give this to peeps whenever i am asked. So...Each of The Trio derps have their own struggles and arcs throughout the series...Them dealing with different aspects of these issues they have. Max's is depression/suicidal feelings and whatnot. Dealing with aspects of his past, his anger issues, finding things to live for and ways to cope with all of the things he has in his mind. He has to fight demons for a job but he has to figure out how to deal with the ones in his own head... Kristy's is her anxiety and dealing with everything she's been shoved into and that she now has to deal with, some bits of trying to cope but also assert her own autonomy and whatnot with this whole...Demon fighting shitshow she's in now...

And Sharky's, his is his insecurities, his self hate, dealing with all of the fucking horseshit society chunks onto him literally for being a shark and daring to exist at all. Trying to figure out if he wants to please all of those people, change their minds or just...Not care...This all is spiked more whenever Sharky starts gaining more weight and whatnot and...It makes everything even fucking worse in his mind... We can talk about Max and Kristy's issues at another point since we're focusing on Sharky here. Sharky has had to deal with this shit from day 1. Day one of literally being born. He was born into a world that hated him for being a shark and perpetually looks at him like a ravonous monster/a ticking timebomb/just some beast...And Sharky has memories going back all the way to him being 4, 5, 6, of getting that sort of hate...Despite being a literal child... As a kid, he was always wondering why people hated him so muc but now as a teenager, he's wondering moreso...How can he stop it all? How does he deal with this? He knows why they hate him, people always assume he's out to eat or hurt them, assume he's 'gonna go shark' on them or however you'd want to put it... He just wants it to stop. He wants to live his own life, enjoy it and be treated like...Well, just a normalass person...Like everyone else...But alot of people do not give him that basic curtesy or kindness... Sharky takes all of these...Pent up feelings and puts them on himself alot... He'll think "if i was a human or...Something people liked, it would be different." "If i wasn't so fat, people wouldn't be so scared..." "If i could make myself smaller, less noticable, less scary..." "Show my teeth less, smile less, or...At least not with teeth, be as gentle as i possibly fucking can be, be as kind as possible..." "I wonder if i could...Find ways to hide my dorsal fin..." And it just goes...On and on... Sharky cannot change society singlehandley, he just...Cannot...He's one person and...It's a task many other sharks before him and living alongside him have to deal with also... So alot of that..........He blames on himself, he thinks if he can...Change himself, it will fix things... So...If he doesn't eat food at all, people won't be so scared, he'll lose weight, it'll get better!!! That's...What he'll tell himself but...These aren't the problems...He never was the problem...And no matter how much his friends try to help him, get through to him, he always just...Reverts back to those mindsets...He just wants to be treated like...A person...That's it...But he can't get his wish... It's a serious long journey for him, having to deal with things like Angel's romantic rejection of him, him traveling more outside of Shellside City and having those sorts of things thrown at him more, his whole weight gain thing, how he'll try so hard and just...End up nowhere again... I've said it but eventually he does reach the whole...Self acceptance part...He'll still stumble obviously but he begins to realize...He cannot change society's mind on something like...Their opinion of sharks that easily...Hell, he knows he'll probably die before that happens... So he'll slowly begin to not care as much about these things, focus more on what his friends and family think, focus on actually taking care of himself vs taking all his hate out on himself... It's not a clean road there by any means...And...It's a long road too, again, series long arc that i'm like...Describing to you... But he does get a happy ending in that regard, i can tell you that...He learns that hating himself like that gets him...Well...Fucking nowhere... But since we're in the beginning bits and middle bits, you're going to see these aspects of his character alot... P2 cuz outta room lol: https://www.tumblr.com/sharksa-shivers/729947252323418112/real-talk-tho-why-does-sharky-self-neglect?source=share

#kidnappedseries #kidnappedseries rambles #Sharky #SharkySharkson

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creoterative · 11 months

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Let's play a Game then - Chapter 4 Part 1

Finally, here it is.

Whew, this has been a long one, but I'm happy it's over, now I can concentrate on my studies xD

Because chapter four became so large, I had to split it up into two seperate chapters, but eh, that's what happens sometimes. Anyway, as always, here's a little foreshadowing on what'll happen in the next part of Marlon's Redemption arc, but if you wanna read the whole thing, here's the link to the (almost) complete work.

Feel free to come by any time!

With a violent twitch that rumbled through his entire body, Abel woke up from his doze and looked around with his eyes wide open. "The fuck...?",he growled and when the tinitus he had suffered from Marlon's loud voice finally subsided, he managed to look directly at Marlon. Showing his bloody red teeth, he grinned at the boy, the sneer clearly evident. Although Clem seemed to have already taken out some frustration on him, he showed no fear. "Ha... Is that any way to greet an old friend...?" Marlon could barely hide his hatred. "We're not friends, Abel. And you're going to die here today." Marlon would make sure of that. He owed that to Brody, to the twins, and to himself. Hell, the whole school had suffered because of this guy. Abel, however, was not impressed. He spat in front of Marlon's boots, blood flying through the air as he finally coughed. But even that didn't seem to faze the old codger. "Kill me? You didn't succeed the first time.... Do you think just because I'm tied up now... it's going to be easier?" His different colored eyes locked onto the scowling ones of Marlon. "I can smell your fear even to here." The blond boy showed his teeth as well, but not for a friendly smile. With a firm kick to the robber's broken leg, he made him scream, causing satisfaction to well up inside him. "I'm not here to talk to you about petty shit! Tell me what you know, scumbag! Or I'll break your leg so many times it'll be nothing but a pile of splinters!" Abel took some time to regain his composure, then finally managed it and glared viciously at Marlon. "Damn brat... I'll give you legs when I get out of here..." The boy grabbed the older one by the head and pushed him backwards against the back of the chair. "You wanted me to come down here. So what do you want? Start talking or I'll make you." Blood was running from the corners of the man's mouth, but that didn't change his scowl. He managed another mocking grin and took a deep breath. "Your little friend has already tried her luck.... You won't get me to talk.... But... I have a suggestion to make.... You know, these ropes make thinking so hard..." Marlon grabbed his neck with his right hand and squeezed hard. There was no mercy in his eyes at that, Abel had chased it out of him the moment he had threatened him with the barrel of a gun.. "Then I would use my head if I were you."

Abel gasped and made forced sounds, kicked Marlon with his healthy leg and almost caught him, but the former leader of the group that lived here was too fast. And the longer Abel beat around the bush, the more anger rose in Marlon. Impatience made him squeeze even tighter and Abel tried to fight back with all his might until Marlon finally let go. He couldn't kill him, not yet. Not without information. Slowly, he took a step back and clenched his hands into fists as Abel leaned forward, coughing. It faded rather quickly into a spiteful laugh, drawn from all the smoking. "Heh... You've never done anything like that before, have you...?" "What, threaten people?" "No... Torture... Can't tell anything if you kill me first..." He had a point. Marlon had never tortured anyone to get information out of them. In the past, before he was sent to the boarding school, however, he had definitely held a few small... units. Kids that lent themselves to venting frustration. Hey, there was a reason he was here, after all. But you couldn't call it torture. "I guess that's true. Don't worry, I won't kill you until I get what I want." God, he sounded like a real psychopath. No wonder AJ had put a bullet through his shoulder. Marlon leaned forward again, hands braced on his thighs. "So, how does it feel? To know you've ripped the hope and joy out of a dozen innocent kids?" Abel gave him a confused look. "Don't talk shit... You guys don't live a relaxed life anyway.... Only the strong can still exist in this world...." For that, Marlon grabbed the lower jaw of the bound man. "That's right. And you've messed with the wrong people. Three of your comrades died in your attack. We have three of you on our conscience and you want to teach kids how to fight so they can win a war for you? Not a very good trade, if you ask me." He made a jerky hand motion and let go of Abel's jaw again, which made him open his mouth a few times and close it again to let it settle back in. Marlon's fingers itched to just knock his teeth out, but stupidly, he needed them to talk. "Tell me what I want to know, already." "...All right... A suggestion..." He couldn't be serious! The fucking asshole wanted to negotiate?!

Marlon hadn't felt so much anger inside him for a long time. With both hands, he grabbed Abel by the collar and pulled the man toward him as far as the ropes would allow. "You're not seriously negotiating with me right now, old man! We had a deal, you broke it, and I will never make such a dirty deal with you ever again!" He gripped tighter, feeling the urge to slam Abel's head down on the small table attached to the side of the wooden chair on which the prisoner was sitting. Abel must have experienced some crazy things in the past, because he didn't even flinch, but grinned broadly at Marlon. "You feel powerful, huh...? Because you can hurt me.... But Marlon... you're just like me... Like us.... You want to survive, don't you...?""Shut up!" With a jerk, Marlon pushed him back into the chair and turned his back on him. "Ohh... I thought you wanted me to talk? Well... You'll have to make up your mind...",Abel laughed and spat out blood again. His teeth must have taken a good beating when Clem tried to get him to talk. "Shut up. You don't know anything about me." With his hands clenched into fists, Marlon slowly turned back to the trapped man and scowled into his eyes. "Stop this babbling. Finally answer my question. Why me?" Abel tilted his head a little. "Because you.... because you're weak.... heh..." For a moment, Marlon stood rooted to the spot, staring at Abel as if he had seen a ghost. But then his expression changed to an almost tired look, directed at one of the narrow windows set just below the ceiling of the room. They let in a little daylight, though the early hour meant that it didn't really do much. He couldn't think of anything to say, after all Abel was right. "Yes, exactly... That's why... I wanted to talk to you.... You know, the two of us... we're not even that different...." The words made Marlon feel so sick that he wanted to throw up in the bucket that was in front of one of the shelves. That would be pretty disgusting, though, since there was water in it. Urgh, he had to concentrate, damn it.

He couldn't let that asshole take control of the situation. He couldn't let Abel use his fear again to force him to do things he would regret in the end. Marlon had to admit, though, that he had thought about it more than once now - about how he was just like these people. Yeah, he was hardly any different from them. He had sunk just as low, had hurt those he loved. Annoyed, he clenched his hands into fists again, turning his knuckles white, and looked to the side again. Pah. If he retraced his life again... he had never done anything but cause pain. No, actually, he had always been the reason others were miserable. If it hadn't been for him, his parents might never have had so many problems. If it hadn't been for him, if they had separated anyway, they could have had happy, new marriages. If it hadn't been for him, they would never have had to raise the money to send him to boarding school. And if it hadn't been for Marlon, someone would have become leader of this group who really deserved it. "There they go again.... the doubts....",Abel croaked, bending his upper body a little. "Heh... you know it, Marlon.... You won't survive another day without us.... Especially not if... if even worse bastards come..." Slowly, Marlon hung his head and stared at the ground as if he was about to dig a hole in it and crawl inside. Yes, there was the doubt again. "Just shut up." "Wow, strong comeback, kid...." Abel was right somewhere, though. What if there were more people out there following their basest urges and slaughtering whatever just came their way? If they couldn't defend themselves.... What could they do against pistols and shotguns? Or against adults who had lost their minds? Abel gave a smoky laugh and leaned back in his chair again. "Bwahaha... That's what I wanted to see... Now about our deal..." Abel really should have shut up. The word 'deal' brought back memories that Marlon had been hiding from for a whole year. Sophie appeared in his mind's eye, Minnie right behind her. The twins' blue eyes widened in fear and their screams slowly grew louder, louder and louder. Until Marlon couldn't bear them anymore.

With an angry exclamation, he slammed his fist against Abel's stomach and kicked him in the forehead with his knee. The old man cried out loudly in pain and retched as if he had to throw up. But then he raised his head again, his eyes flashing with anger. "You son of a bitch!" he yelled, which Marlon completely ignored. He had had enough of it. Enough of his inner coward, his own fear, but even more he had enough of Abel and Lilly, and the rest of their group. So he turned and pulled the thin knife from his sleeve, letting the blade gleam a little in the faint sunlight that shone in through the narrow windows. "There's not going to be a deal, Abel. I'm so sick of all of you." His voice was filled with hatred he had never felt so strongly in his entire life. "I will exterminate you no matter what it takes. Now I know it can be done. I know I can do it and I know I will do it. It's just a matter of time." Almost as if in slow motion, Marlon turned back to the prisoner, who only now discovered the knife he was holding. "Oh, what, are you trying to scare me?" Marlon hesitated no longer and stomped toward Abel, ramming the blade into his thigh in one swift motion. "ARRRGH!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!!" "Tell me where they are! NOW!!! Or I'll cut your whole leg open!" It did good to see Abel writhing in pain, trying to escape. At least then he would get a rough idea of what Marlon and Brody were suffering. "If I bleed to death, I won't be able to tell you anything!" "Then I'll find them myself. You can't be far. But first I'll let you die in agony. I want to watch you take your last breath." "You're all little psychopaths!!!",Abel screamed, staring wide-eyed at the knife Marlon pulled out of his leg with a jerk. Blood spurted from the wound, making Marlon look even worse than he already was, but what did it matter now? He was already completely soaked in blood from the fight that night anyway. "No. Just me."

Marlon squatted in front of Abel and looked up at him from below, watching the blood continue to flush down Abel's leg. "Psychopath is right, you know. I'll burn through your camp like the plague." He put the blade to Abel's crotch and stroked it slowly. "I'll do that for my school, which you burned to the ground." Then he rose and stepped behind Abel, letting the blade now pass over his heart without cutting. "When this is done, I will kill every single one of you sick bastards. I do this for my family." Finally, Marlon let the back of the knife run slowly across Abel's throat. "And when I'm done with that, I'm going to look for Lilly, find her, and cut her throat, very slowly. I'll do that for myself." Abel seemed to slowly understand the predicament he was in, Marlon could tell by his eyes, which tracked the blade in his hand as if it were something that might jump out at him at any moment. In a way, that was true. Slowly, Marlon stepped in front of him again and let the knife in his hand fly through the air a few times before he caught it again. "So, Abel. What's it going to be?" "Feeling really great with your little kitchen knife, huh?",he growled. "Where'd you get the balls all of a sudden? Spitting such big words, yet last year you were lying on the floor whimpering..." With the tip of the knife, Marlon pointed at Abel again. He looked him straight in the eye and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I've seen what happens when you let yourself get bossed around by the likes of you. I've seen what it can do to a person to be threatened like that. And do you have any idea what kind of shit you guys did to Brody?! No, you have no idea." With a jerk, he disengaged himself from the chair again and stepped back, his pale blue eyes gleaming. His hands suddenly shook like leaves in the wind, and Marlon couldn't focus on Abel. Brody appeared in his mind, over and over again. The guilt plagued him day after day, night after night, and slowly but surely it was obviously beginning to engulf him from the inside out.

He would go insane if he continued like this. That couldn't happen, he couldn't give in. Not again. Marlon grabbed his head with one hand, the other firmly gripped the handle of the knife. He quickly closed his eyes and took a deep breath to keep himself in check. Just as Ms. Martin had told him to do. Pause, close your eyes, and breathe. And it would have worked wonderfully if Abel hadn't interfered again. "My God, you kids are pathetic, haha.... Broken toys.... No wonder they made such good soldiers..." Immediately, Marlon opened his eyes again and stared at Abel from the side. Was he talking about Minnie and Sophie right now? He had to be. Shit, they really had gone to war.... And the way Abel said it... they were.... Ms. Martin probably should have come up with some drills for extreme situations like this, because Marlon now had no desire at all to hold back. If Minnie and Sophie were dead, it was his fault. He was responsible for them dying in a senseless gang war, and he could never take that back. That was different than shooting enemy assassins out of trees. The twins had been his friends, too, and even though it might not have seemed that way three weeks ago, it had hurt him incredibly to have to betray them. If only he had been stronger....

If only he'd had the courage to come back, to get them out of there....

If only he hadn't been such a fucking coward.

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weirdthinkingdragon · 3 years

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Welcome To The Family (4/???)

1/ 2/ 3 here

Note- This festival is a different one than the festival arc. Sorry if the ending seems kinda sudden. Didn’t really know how to end it.

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I’m unsure what time exactly they will be here. They probably should have told me that before, now that I think about it. Luckily, everyone is passed out by sunrise so that’s not an issue of them seeing who is in the vehicle. My issue is them possibly entering here, so I should probably wait outside.

On my way to get outside, I run into the mold-quirked male. He’s passed out on the floor in the hall. His really long, oddly-textured white hair sprawled everywhere around him. I’ve never touched it, but just by looking at it, the hair seems weird. It looks like what fuzzy mold possibly feels like if that makes sense. Makes me wonder if his hair IS mold. Gross, no thanks.

I wonder whether to wake him or let him sleep. I decided to just let him sleep and walk over his body.

Exiting the building, it was like there was never loud music blaring, or even a party. No mess anywhere. That must be how they get away with it.

I brought my money with me to play a few games, but nothing extreme. Of course, I should be safe around three heroes, but not taking any chances is still the better option than bringing all of it.

It only takes a few minutes for the familiar black car to pull up. Being texted they were on their way would have been nice, but beggars can’t be choosers. Hitoshi exits the car for me to get in.

I’m greeted by the very happy smile of Eri. That will never be a tiring sight to see. I buckle up and lean over since her arms are outstretched for a hug.

From the view of Aizawa in the front, he’s dressed decently today, and even his hair looks much tidier than I’ve ever seen it. The same for the first time he’s wearing something besides his hero outfit. No doubt Hizashi made him do it, or even more likely he did it for Aizawa himself. He still has that scarf though. I resist the urge to laugh at the thought of him unwillingly being tidied up by Hizashi.

In speaking of Hizashi, I’ve never seen his hair not standing up before. It’s a good look in the half-bun, but I wonder what it would look like fully down. Nope, don’t think too far into that. That’s kinda weird.

“Morning Y/N!” Hizashi exclaims.

“Morning guys! What’s planned first when we get there?”

“Eri wants to get a candy apple. She loves them after last time.”

I look at her. “Candy apples? Why did you never tell me? We could have made those at some point before.”

“It should be more of a treat than a daily thing,” Aizawa says.

“Says the one who pretty much lives off jelly pouches,” Hizashi informs.

“Like you’re much better with forgetting sometimes to eat at all.” Aizawa shoots back at him.

Jelly pouches? How in the world is he still in such great shape then? Obviously fighting and training often helps, but that sounds like multiple deficiencies just waiting to happen. Same with Hizashi. Jeez, these two seem rather irresponsible sometimes. At least they’re focused on their kids since I’ve never heard Eri telling me they forgot to feed her.

“You know how to make them?” Hitoshi asks.

I look at him and nod. “Yep. I helped a friend in the past who was in a candy apple tournament with their other friends. Whoever could make the coolest-looking ones wins. They sadly got second place, but to me, galaxy apples look a lot cooler than the tree candy apples that won. You couldn’t even bite the top of the silly things without breaking your teeth!”

Eri gasps and puts a hand on her mouth in the thought of breaking her teeth.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t make them even if I could.”

She nods relieved.

We get to the festival and Hizashi finds somewhere to park the car.

Walking around, I could swear we passed a few familiar faces to me. The games are rather interesting and pull me towards them, but we can go to them later since Eri wants a candy apple.

I notice Hizashi and Aizawa refraining from holding hands though they seem to want to. I try to come up with a reason for why that might be. Not very likely they’d be recognized by villains since they look like entirely different people. Hmm… Obviously, Hitoshi and Eri wouldn’t care.

The only other thing I can think of is their students. Of course, their students might be able to recognize them. Did they not tell their students they’re married or something? I know Midoriya wouldn’t care since I met him, but maybe there are a few in his class that wouldn’t be too open-minded about it? It’s not my place, whatever is the cause. I do feel a little bad though they can’t act normally.

Hizashi suddenly stops, making the rest of us stop, and pulls out his phone. He reads something with a frown forming on his face. He pockets it and looks at me. “Yo, Y/n? Could ya hang out with Hitoshi and Eri alone for a bit? Sho and I gotta go take care of something that came up.”

Hero work I’m guessing. Poor guys, they really can’t seem to catch a break. “Of course!”

They both then run back in the direction we came from. I look at Eri and Hitoshi. “Well, should we continue looking?”

Eri happily nods.

Hitoshi goes in front of me with Eri, probably leading the way since he seems to know where they are. I stay rather close behind them so no one gets between us and we lose each other from how crowded it seems to be in this area.

Over the music, I can swear I hear tiny explosions quickly getting louder, and maybe closer? Coming from behind me. I turn around to see people clearing from behind me to show an angry blond coming up incredibly quickly. Explosions crackling from his hands. His feral glaring face was enough to put so much fear in me that I freeze in my place. I clench my eyes closed and wait for an impact that no doubt is going to be painful.

“Kacchan, stop! They’re Eri’s babysitter!!!” A very familiar voice yells to the blond in front of me.

He stops with one of his hands millimeters from my face. I can hear the sizzling and feel the heat radiating off of it onto my face. I slowly open my eyes to meet his still-glaring ones.

… Isn’t he one of Aizawa��s and Hizashi’s students? I think he was one farther in the back frowning in the picture I saw on my first day.

In the blink of an eye, Hitoshi slightly pulls me back, and stands in front of me, preventing the blond from coming close again. Midoriya is running up to us as well. He tries to cheer me up by giving me a kind wave. It does little to help my still-panicked state.

Eri hugs me by my side in worry. I feel like fainting.

The blond becomes slightly less tense at realizing she’s hugging me.

“Hah? How the hell was I supposed to know with the way the damn extra was following so closely?”

“Uh… Kacchan, I don’t think Shinsou would be so open for attacks…”

The blond glares at him like Midoriya is the dumbest person on the planet. He refused to reply, and just storms off.

Midoriya looks at me and smiles sheepishly with one of his hands behind his head. “So sorry about that! Kacchan can be rather… headstrong when villains might be involved.”

I just shakily nod. “Uh… y-yeah, good first impression.”

Hitoshi’s face grows into one of great worry, and I think some anger. He puts one of his arms behind my back as a sort of comfort and support. Surprisingly, it helps a little bit.

“I think I need to sit down for a moment.”

“There should be some benches not too far from here,” Midoriya informs, and we get there after a bit. Miraculously, one of them was empty. I sit down with Hitoshi to the left of me. Eri sits on my right, clearly struggling in trying to figure out how to help.

Midoriya stands at my right, in front of Eri’s spot. He seems to be in thought for a moment. “Togata has a surprise the next time we come over. He found a new dress he wants you and Eri to judge.”

That sunshine adult makes me end up smiling slightly. Shinsou seems a bit annoyed at the mention of the kind blond. “Aw, that means Eri and I will have to make him another tiara so it will match his new dress.”

“I hope it’s poofy!” Eri chimes in.

I smile at her. “What color do you think it will be? Maybe it will be green! We should have one where we all wear green to match your tea set!”

Her eyes shine in excitement at the idea.

“I uh, I guess I have that covered,” Midoriya says.

“You know you don’t HAVE to wear a dress, right? I bet you’d look great in a green suit too! Ooh! You could be the beloved butler!”

“I think I’ll just stick with the dress I have… It was so awkward telling my mom about it back when I got it. I don’t know if I could ask her to buy something else too.”

Hitoshi gets a message on his phone and pulls it out. I’m too focused on Midoriya and Eri. Going on that idea of Togata helped calm me down greatly.

“That’s understandable. Suits can be rather expensive.”

“Midoriya?” Hitoshi suddenly pipes up.

“Yeah, Shinsou?”

“You might want to run. Ashido knows you’re here and wants to give you more dance lessons.”

His eyes widen fearfully, and he takes off while looking around.

“I didn’t get to hug him…” Eri says rather disappointedly.

“What’s wrong with dance lessons?” I question.

He has a rather large grin on his face. It kind of creeps me out a bit. How can someone be such a perfect combination of two adults that aren’t blood-related to them? “He usually doesn’t mind them, but recently they got struck with a personality-changing quirk. They became sterner than my dad.” It was easy to tell which dad he meant.

Just thinking of someone even more serious and stern than him is terrifying. I bet Aizawa isn’t too happy to be stuck dealing with that.

Hitoshi also seems rather relieved Midoriya has left. Wonder what’s up with that.

I look at Eri. “Well, why don’t we continue to find your candy apple now that things are a little more settled?”

She nods, and the three of us stand up.

It doesn’t take long to find them. They look rather unappealing compared to my friend’s homemade, but I’m not going to bring that up.

After Hitoshi gives it to her, she looks at it for a second, then looks at me. “What is your favorite jewel?” That’s an odd question out of nowhere. Then again, maybe the hard shell makes her think of rocks?

“Why do you want to know?”

She shrugs. “They’re so pretty. I like the red ones!”

Red like the candy apple? How cute. I tell her my favorite.

Hitoshi pulls out his phone and texts someone again. “Something is holding our parents up. It might be at least a few hours before they return.”

I feel rather bad for them for that. Being a hero is something I thank them for daily, but it must be so exhausting not being able to spend time with your family…

“Okay. What should we do then? I don’t think we should do any rides for now from Eri eating.”

Hitoshi shrugs. “The only thing we really can do is games unless there’s a different food you’re interested in getting here.”

I shake my head in reply.

Eri gently tugs at my clothes with her free hand. I look at her and she points at a prize in the shooting game. It’s a stuffed animal of my favorite creature. It’s also my favorite color, and even has a rather similar eye color to mine. Huh, what are the chances of that?

The game seems simple enough. Hitoshi notices what Eri is pointing at, and smirks at me. He crosses his arms. “Are you going to try first?”

I get the attention of the person behind the counter and pay, having them give me the corks. I load it and take another quick look at Hitoshi with a smirk myself. “Well, what does it look like? And I’m going to be the one that gets it for her!”

He teasingly huffs with a roll of his eyes. “Sure you will.”

I look back towards the prize and focus my aim.

… It misses. Not by much, but my aim is a little too high and too far to the right.

“You missed.” His tone isn’t condescending in any way.

“Yeah, yeah. I still have two tries.”

Looking again, I aim slightly down and more to the left.

… It missed again, but much closer this time. It’s the right height, but now I have it too far to the left.

“You missed, again.”

“Hush, you.” I don’t even have to look at him to know he has an enormous smirk forming on his face. I’ll show you!

I force my breathing to slow, focus a little longer, move just a tad to the right...

… Yes! I got it!

The person goes over and grabs it, giving it to me. I then give it to Eri which gives her an enormous smile on her face.

I give Hitoshi an “I-told-you-so” face.

“I would have gotten it on my first try.”

“Sure you would have.”

“Next time I’ll show you.”

“Mhm, whatever you say, Hitoshi.”

After that, we did a few more games and ended up going on a few of the rides. It was rather difficult due to Eri being too small for them. She was a little saddened by that, so I told her maybe she will be able to next year.

Hitoshi and I also ended up getting hungry at one point, so we bought some snacks. After taking a bite of what I bought, I look at the time. Surprisingly, about four hours have passed. I don’t think taking care of a villain should take this long, right? Maybe they got ambushed?

Don’t think about it. They’re pros. They should be able to handle anything.

In speaking of them, a message from Hizashi pops up on my phone. “Just about done here! Was a rather bad ambush, but we’re good! Gotta clear up a few more things, then we’ll be on our way!”

He put us in a group chat. Hitoshi is in it, and I’m guessing the other is Aizawa. He reads the message as well.

Eri is still playing around with her new stuffed animal.

“Should we do the same rides when your parents come?”

He shakes his head. “They will probably be rather tired when they return. Hizashi wanted to ride the Ferris Wheel with all of us more than anything.”

Why does that seem so accurate for him? “Really? The Ferris Wheel out of everything?”

He shrugs. “My other dad doesn’t really care. He’d rather sleep, but we all know Hizashi wouldn’t allow that.”

I laugh. “He seems like the type.”

A chill suddenly goes down my spine. Why do I feel like someone is watching us? Hitoshi notices my discomfort, and goes on alert, scanning the crowd around us. He doesn’t seem to see anything concerning. He pulls out his phone and quickly texts someone again, constantly glancing around.

“Don’t mean to be intrusive, but who are you texting?”

“My dads. I’m telling them to hurry up.”

Again, I feel bad for the two grown men. “It shouldn’t be too much of a problem. It’s probably just someone thinking they know me or something.”

He frowns. “Not taking any chances.”

I guess that makes sense. “If it’s such a problem, why don’t we find Midoriya to be with us again? I’m sure-”

“No.” He cuts me off. He was rather firm on saying it.

… No? I thought they were on good terms? “Are you two not on the best terms anymore or something? You don’t seem to want him around.”

“If there is someone watching, it would be better for a student in the top class to not be involved. It could make you a bigger target if your feeling of being watched is correct.”

Didn’t think of that. It still seems kind of like a ridiculous claim though. After all, Hizashi is a very well-known hero, so what difference would that make between Midoriya being with us or an adult?

I decided to just brush it off.

---------------------------------------

Whatever Hitoshi told them must have worked, since they arrived and found us at what must have been a record-breaking speed.

“Hey guys, you got here quick!”

“Well, we couldn’t let you three have all the fun now, could we?”

“Speak for yourself.” Aizawa tiredly mumbles. They’re wearing the same outfits they did earlier. I wonder if Hizashi was recognized during his fight. I have a feeling they keep their weapons in the trunk of their car just in case they get called.

I look at Eri and notice her yawn. I then look back up to Aizawa. “Looks like you’re not the only one that’s tired.”

He looks at her with the tiniest smile as she yawns again. “Fine. Just a few rides, then we go home.”

We end up on a few of the rides Eri can go on. I still don’t feel comfortable around Aizawa, so I try my best to sit with Hitoshi and Eri.

Hizashi keeps looking around as we go on a few of the rides. He tries to be more stealthy about it, but he’s failing at it greatly. Aizawa seems like he couldn’t care less. I should have just ignored it since now I feel like I’m ruining the rides for them for the imaginary odd feeling.

We decided the very last ride to be the Ferris Wheel. “You guys should go ahead. I’ll wait down here for you.” I inform them. Three out of the four of them look at me like I just grew another head. “What? It will be too tight a squeeze otherwise.” Hizashi just shakes his head and grabs me by one of my wrists to come with.

The feeling multiplied after he grabbed my wrist, making me forcefully stop and look behind me. He stops as well, looking in the same direction.

“That’s another thing! We can’t just leave you alone down here if someone’s watchin’ ya! C’mon!”

He drags me into the line for it with the others. Luckily, there wasn’t much of a wait. I can’t believe it’s sunset already. I also can’t believe I’m stuck going on it with them.

We all get into the cart, and I try to sit down with Eri and Hitoshi. Hizashi grabs my wrist again, having me sit between him and Aizawa. It’s a rather tight fit with my thighs and sides being pressed on theirs. This is rather uncomfortable, and definitely something I did NOT sign up for as a sitter…

At least the sight is beautiful to see with the sun shining brightly to the right side of us. Eri leans against Hitoshi and closes her eyes, hugging her new stuffed animal close. It stays quiet between all of us for a bit. Hizashi slips his arm behind my shoulders, making me tense. I decided he must be trying to give us a bit more room.

“Sorry for not bein’ around much today to hang out with. Tell ya what, why don’t you join us next Sunday for dinner as an apology?”

My eyes narrow in thought. “An apology for what? You guys couldn’t help it. It happens.”

He shakes his head. “Come on, we already cleared our schedules for it. It would be heartbreaking if you say no!”

“But I was planning on hanging out with my friends next Sunday… Why not the Sunday after that?”

“Just go with it. Having him change his mind is impossible.”

I mentally sigh. “Fine. But the Sunday after, I won’t be coming. I WILL spend my day with them then, so please don’t invite me into anything.”

I could swear Hizashi frowns disappointingly at the news, but his face becomes a smile before I can put much thought into it. “Great! Be sure to wear somethin’ at least a little fancy, okay? We’re going somewhere special! Oh! And we’ll pick ya up again!”

“Okay…” was my only reply.

#Yandere EraserMic household #x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere shinsou x reader #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic

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sarahjtv · 3 years

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BNHA Chapter 327 Spoiler Analysis: Home Sweet Home

OH MY GOD, GUYS!!! DEKU GETS A BATH!!!! 🎉🛁 🧼 My broccoli boy finally gets squeaky clean, gets some sleep, and we finally get some R&R time with the Class 1-A kids. It’s not close to the happy-go-lucky days of old, but it’s some time with the kids nonetheless. I’m glad Horikoshi put some heart and humor in this chapter because god knows we needed it. But, let’s be real, this is the calm before the storm:

The chapter starts off with what everyone and Horikoshi has been wanting for Deku since he went on his mission: A motherfuckin’ bath 🛀 🧼🛁! Kaminiari and Kirishima lead the Class 1-A boys to carry Deku into their side of the UA Alliance bathhouse (looks real nice btw) and give him a good power-wash. The whole sequence is very comical! The boys are rushing in and poor Deku has this O_O face on him like “what is happening?” 😂 We also see some of the boys butt naked 😳 It’s clear that Horikoshi had fun drawing this thing and it was fun to read 💚

Bakugo is with them of course and you can actually see his scars from when Shigaraki stabbed him. He’s not bleeding, but you can see those scar patches on his skin. I’m curious of how fan artist are going to draw him from now on. I would like to see that fan art 👀

There’s also some bubble sfx coving Bakugo’s crotch and a translator said it might say dick or penis. I’m curious what the officials will say.

But, Bakugo being Bakugo is still aggressive towards his classmates. More playfully than before, but still. He reminds everyone that he still intends on being the best there is and that everyone is still his rivals (also friends, Bakugo). HE EVEN MAKES AN ATTEMPT TO CALL DEKU IZUKU! LIKE HE ALMOST SAID “DEKU” BUT HE CHANGED IT TO IZUKU AT THE LAST MINUTE! AND DEKU SAYS THAT CALLING HIM DEKU IS JUST FINE LIKE THAT ANGER THAT ORIGINATED FROM THE NICKNAME ISN’T THERE ANYMORE AND IT’S A FREINDLY NICKNAME BKDK FRIENDSHIP GROWTH YOU LOVE TO SEE IT 🧡💚

After Deku’s bath, he’s sitting in the commons talking to the rest of Class 1-A. Well, most of them. Mina tells Deku that Ochako and a few other students went to bed after everything became ok again. So, I definitely didn’t see Tsuyu, and it looks like Shoji, Aoyama, and Hagakare weren’t in this chapter either. Ochako I understand; her speech must’ve been emotionally taxing. Aoyama and Hagakare are the top suspects for being the traitor in the fandom and this isn’t helping their cases. I don’t know about Tsuyu and Shoji though. They’re both mutant-types, but characters like Ojiro or mutant-like people like Jiro, Mina or Tokoyami didn’t get outcasted. Horikoshi did hint that Shoji would be getting something soon. But, I really am just speculating here.

Now that Deku’s back, everyone has questions for him. Though I understand why, this has gotta be overwhelming for Deku. At least they’re not mad at him for hiding OFA. They seem very understanding actually.

Then my ❄️🔥 boy, Shoto Todoroki, comes in all handsome right out of the baths 💙 He’s drying his right side while you can see a steam cloud on his left. So, it is canon that Shoto drys himself naturally with his heat. His entrance is so pretty that even Mineta’s questioning it (shut up, Mineta, you’ll never be as beautiful as him). And yes, I might be a Shoto simp, don’t judge me I see y’all too 👀

Anyway, Shoto asks everyone to let Deku sleep since that was pretty much the whole reason they brought him back. Problem is, Deku can’t because he really needs to apologize to All Might for abandoning him. AND AFTER HE SAYS THAT THERE’S A DETAILED PANEL OF SHOTO POINTING TO ALL MIGHT LIKE “UH, MIDORIYA? HE’S RIGHT THERE” AND ALL MIGHT LOOKING FROM THE WINDOW LIKE A HORROR VILLAIN WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE 😭

All Might comes in and apologizes to Deku for not being able to support him when he needed it, but Deku says that All Might support him more than enough. Mina also scolds All Might for not saying anything when he left. She wants All Might to apologize to everyone for that. Though I’m glad Deku and All Might have reconciled (I honestly thought that last convo between them was going to be THE LAST for a hot minute), Mina has a point. All Might did bail on all of them without any warning. Kinda messed up in general.

All Might apologizes and he is going to fight with everyone regardless of his physical state so that he can see that flame continue to shine. However, he warns the kids that they got info on the villains and that the final decisive battle is coming soon. If the whole “Final Arc” thing hasn’t been hammered into your head, there you go. I’m also glad that Stain’s speech did end up motivating All Might further. Who knew?

So, All Might is off to help Endeavor since he’s got unfinished business to take care of. But, the kids are wondering why Endeavor (and probably Hawks) isn’t entering UA entirely yet. Shot reminds them that Endeavor is still connected to Dabi and that his presence alone would cause more discourse. People’s minds can’t change that easily. Shoto of all people would know.

As Deku FINALLY SLEEPS 💤 and Shoto puts a blanket over him (possibly warmed by his left side 🔥) 💙💚 Shoto acknowledges how his presence might be making people anxious too even though it’s not his fault at all (thank you, Kirishima for doubling down on this btw ❤️🪨). But, things are different and Shoto’s going to show that so that everyone can be at ease like he wants as a hero. There’s even this sweet small smile on his beautiful face as he says this. He’s grown so much and he’s pretty to boot I love him so much *HANDS IN FACE* 💙❄️🔥

EVEN KIRISHIMA’S CRYING FROM HOW MANLY SHOTO IS I LOVE THESE KIDS!!!!

And now Jiro steps up and says her piece. That she knows how hard it is to convince everyone to change their minds for the better. Like with those two critics from the Culture Fest. Even so, they accomplished this before, so she thinks they can do it again. She even gathers all the band members to emphasize on this. I love how Jiro uses her earphone jacks to rally the band and how she literally drags Bakugo by the shirt for a cute group shot. None of these kids are afraid of Bakugo anymore LOL 😂! Also, Momo is the tallest out of all of them in this line up shot (except for Bakugo who’s still being dragged on the ground). I think she’s roughly 5ft 6-7 inches? She’s the tallest of the girls I know that, but damn. She towers all of them. Even me... She’s also very pretty in this shot and it’s her birthday as I’m posting this, so happy b-day Momo ❤️

And we get a beautiful panel of Jiro leading everyone to make sure that they’ll go beyond with making everything better than it was before. We get a nice group shot of the rest of the class agreeing with her with a smile including Shoto with a small one (did I mention that I love him?) 💙💙💙 And Deku’s in the center still sleeping away. I hope he has good dreams *kisses forehead*💚 And go Jiro for stepping up to the plate too 💜! All these kids have grown so much. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

Finally, the last pages show Endeavor, Hawks, and Best Jeanist going somewhere, maybe Tartarus. They got info out of Dr. Ujiko via polygraph and the Nomu Research Group at Central Hospital. They predict that they have 2 months until Shigaraki’s ready to go again, so they’ll need 1 month of preparation. But, the info Stain gave All Might gave them more info. His letter ended up being a personal letter to All Might (Stain really is that nuts...), but there was a microchip in the blade Stain left containing the security records from Tartarus. It’s not stated how this info affected the mission at hand, but it sounds like it has to do something with the time frame. So, I’m curious if they have less time to prepare or more? Given how this is the Final Arc, Imma say less.

Finally, the teaser asks “How are the villains moving?” I wonder if that means we’re switching to the villain’s next week. I would love to hang out with the kids more, but I would also like to know what our villains are up to. Like, where the hell is Himiko Toga? Is Spinner still questioning shit? What happened to Mr. Compress after he mauled himself to help Shigaraki and the others escape? Also I think we need more info on this dude’s backstory given he’s the grandson of the famous Robin Hood villain who’s name definitely didn’t escape me... 😐 Is Dabi laughing his ass off from the utter chaos he started? Is AFO still smiling like the evil mastermind he is? Is Shigaraki as crispy as he was earlier? I was going to ask about Twice but... 😭

So, yeah! Love this chapter. Really good transition chapter into whatever happens next. I’m kinda sad we didn’t see Deku fight off more past villains during his vigilante days. We got Muscular and Overhaul and I think that’s it? Didn’t see any of Overhaul’s minions or that teeth-blade villain (Fish-something?; he broke out, but we haven’t seen him since) or Re-Destro or his goons. I don’t count as Gentle or LaBrava as villains anymore and they were never truly evil to begin with. Regardless, it was a really cool arc to see a more dark side of Deku. I’m really glad Horikoshi made great use of his bunny hood and metal mask finally. Deku really did look demonic for some time. Also, seeing Deku badass is always a plus. And seeing the deconstruction of hero society and the possible reconstruction of it was really good too. Not everything is sunshine and rainbows, unfortunately, but we can do our best to make it that way.

I’m also glad that we finally got our kids back in top form. Not just being heroes, but being teenagers too. They all had great moments especially Iida, Ochako, and now Shoto as they should. But, Bakugo’s apology was peak for me. Over 320 chapters of development and build-up lead to that moment and it really is one of the best in the series. It lives in my head rent free.

So, we got 1-2 months in-manga-time until what is probably the final battle of the series. God, I can’t believe we’re actually nearing the end of this series. I started reading it back in 2018 when shit was rough for me. I found this series after listening to the music and reading the hype around it. I watched the show then I read the manga and it really helped me. Saved me from a dark place actually. I will miss this series when it’s done and I will be greatly for the joy Horikoshi has gifted us. I’ll try to save the farewells for later. I’d say this series has at least 1-1 1/2 years to go.

Me @ the kids and All Might:

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kaizokuou-ni-naru · 3 years

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The Voyage So Far: Enies Lobby

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

this is still one of my very favorite nami panels. i think she’s really great through all of water 7 and enies lobby in general, actually, even though she isn’t really one of the characters in focus for a lot of it- like zoro and sanji, she stays pretty steadfast and very badass even though everything that happens, and never gives up on robin for a moment despite being one of the ‘weaker’ members of the crew. and it’s always fun to see her playing with lightning.

one of my favorite jokes from the first half or so of enies lobby is the strawhats both being completely unsurprised that luffy charges in ahead of them as soon as they arrive AND being able to find him immediately by following the explosions. they know him so well.

luffy’s never been scared of dying, going all the way back to when he told coby he was fine with dying for his dream back in chapter two or three. that conversation is what his exchange with blueno here reminds me of- blueno asks him how long he intends to keep fighting, and luffy says until he dies, like there’s nothing to it.

it’s always been a trait of his to face death unflinching with a grin, so long as it’s for the sake of something he cares about, be it his crew or his brother or his dream, and i just really like that about him.

i’ll go into it in the dressrosa post too, but i think it’s really impressive just how long oda held off on giving luffy any sort of significant power-up. he gets his first big power boost in the whole series here, forty volumes in. i’ve always liked that oda is very conservative with power boosts like this, because it both keeps the series’ powerscaling in check and makes the times it does happen much weightier. this is a monumental moment, and it feels like it.

also, i love the way gear two is drawn pre-timeskip, especially with the steam. it looks very cool and atmospheric.

i really like how united the strawhat crew feels throughout enies lobby, after all the internal turmoil and discord of water seven. even though the matter of usopp leaving the crew is still unresolved, they’ll all together once more, on the same page, and fully united in the goal of saving robin, whatever consequences it might bring.

the tree of knowledge has such a cool design- it looks massive, and even more than that, it looks old. you look at that tree and you know its been there for easily thousands of years. its seen entire eras of history, and it would be priceless even without the countless books stored inside it.

and then it burns.

i’m so endlessly sad about the tragedy that is robin’s relationship with her mother. they never even got to see each other until their world was ending, and even then only for a couple minutes.

olvia is a very interesting character, because she’s someone who chose her dream over the people she loved. that’s not an inherently good or bad choice, but it is a choice she made, and it’s what led to the ending she and robin had to have. i’ve wondered a lot what might have happened if she chose the other way, if she never left or if she came back sooner or if she chose to flee the buster call with robin, and how different (and almost certainly better) robin’s life would have been if she had.

in a way, olvia reminds me a lot of kouzuki toki. they both die in order to fling a light of knowledge and hope into the future, and they both send their children away and choose to stay behind to choke on ash for the sake of a better tomorrow.

i didn’t really notice until putting these panels together, but a lot of things burn in enies lobby. ohara burns, and the pluton plans and the world government flag, and enies lobby itself, and at the end, the going merry burns, too. if you extend it back to water seven, there’s the galley-la headquarters, too. in an arc that deals so much with the preservation and destruction of history and knowledge, it’s a fitting motif.

the world government flag burning is still to this day one of the most striking panels out of a series full of them, in my opinion. in one act, the strawhats proclaim their absolute defiance against the world government, and their willingness to make enemies of the greatest power in the world for the sake of their friend.

it’s also another one of those moments that’s interesting to think about in the context of luffy’s past. it was a ship flying that same flag that shot sabo down, and while luffy wasn’t there to see it, i don’t think he’s oblivious to that fact, especially given how he says just before this he understands robin’s enemies perfectly.

dadan told him and ace that there was nothing they could do against the whole world, and luffy went and did it anyways.

sometimes i just think about how scary it must have been for robin, someone who’s been weighed down by the shackles of her past with no escape in sight for so very long, to open herself up and let herself hope, for life and freedom and a dream that’s always been out of reach.

franky has a lot of really great moments between this arc and water seven- his conversation with usopp as usopp is working on merry and his talk with robin on the sea train are two others. it’s almost impressive how quickly he becomes an immensely likable character once we start getting to know him, given how he’s first introduced as an absolute piece of shit.

his burning of the pluton plans is a favorite of mine, and i think it might be because, like so many people before and after him, he’s choosing here to stake all his hopes on the strawhats, on luffy’s ability to pull off the impossible and on robin’s goodness. when robin’s only ever been chased and hated and called a demon by the world, franky chooses to trust her and luffy with the legacy his dad died for, and neither of them let him down.

monster point looks SO FUCKING TERRIFYING in enies lobby, and i LOVE it. look at that. franky is seven and half feet tall, and in front of monster point he’s tiny. monster point is huge, and dead-eyed, and a force of absolute destruction. i do kind of wish we got to see chopper go completely feral like this more often. he deserves to be terrifying!

i love how much FAITH all the rest of the strawhats continue to have in usopp throughout enies lobby. he left the crew and they really would have a right to be angry at him if they chose to, but it doesn’t even seem to cross any of their minds. they’re just happy he’s okay, and they include him again without missing a beat, because he’s still their friend and they know down to their bones they can trust him, even after everything.

i’ve always really loved zoro and kaku’s little moment of post-battle banter here- zoro relays paulie’s message about cp9 being fired, kaku says he’s out of a job, zoro tells him to try the zoo, and kaku cracks up.

it feels very real to me for whatever reason, and i think part of it ties back into how well one piece handles morality with its characters- zoro and kaku are genuinely pretty similar people who get along decently, it just happens that they wound up on opposite sides. there are series where you’d never see moments like this due to the lines between good and bad being so firmly drawn, and i love how one piece blurs those lines so much they may as well not exist a lot of the time.

this is the other sequence, along with luffy climbing the drum rockies barehanded, that always makes me physically cringe to look at. it looks so painful. robin is so nearly powerless here, but not quite- she can still buy time for her crew to catch up, even if it’s only seconds, even if she risks shattering her teeth or even her jaw in the process. she’s spent so long giving up and has only just started daring to hope- she’s not about to go gentle.

there aren’t many panels that give me catharsis like this one. there really aren’t.

oda’s villains are usually complicated and awful and often a little admirable, if only for how clever or how terrifyingly powerful they are, but every now and then he comes up with someone who’s just pathetic and cowardly and pointlessly cruel. spandam is like this, obviously, and so is orochi, and the celestial dragons, and i’d argue flampe from whole cake island as well. and there’s nothing like seeing characters like them- weak, cruel people so assured in their own power and rightness- get obliterated.

one of the things i really like about enies lobby is that nobody really gets sidelined- everybody gets multiple chances to shine. luffy, usopp, and obviously robin are the most in focus, obviously, but zoro, sanji, nami, chopper, and even franky all get a bunch of individual awesome moments. oda’s ability to handle his cast satisfyingly is consistently really impressive (if sometimes strained in huge ensemble arcs like dressrosa or wano) and it really shows here, i think.

i just really love the entire climax of enies lobby. much like the arc as a whole, it just feels triumphant, even though the situation is extremely dire. luffy unlocking gear three, robin’s cuffs getting unlocked, usopp shooting spandam and the marines all the way from the tower of justice- it’s all just good, a long chain of much-needed victories and catharses, and it feels very good to read.

i’ll always be impressed by just how much characterization oda manages to give merry, a boat. she’s only really a character in water seven and the end of enies lobby, only about two chapters of which she actually speaks in. and yet i don’t think you’d find a single one piece fan who disagrees that merry’s death is easily one of the most heartwrenching in the entire series.

i love the reactions of the strawhats to robin’s thanks. they’ve just gone through hell to save her, most of them are beat to shit and they all risked their lives, and yet they all just smile, or brush it off, because to them there’s nothing else they could have done. it’s all worth it, so long as they got her back, so long as she’s safe and happy.

merry’s funeral just hits me in the chest every single time i read it. it’s tragic, of course, but there’s also something almost lovely about it, something peaceful about her getting to go out on her own terms, carrying her crew to safety one last time, defying every rule of the universe to do it. just like a strawhat pirate.

oda’s ability to communicate emotion through expressions really comes through here, too. merry has the only lines in this scene, fitting for her death in the limelight, but the shots of every other crewmate’s face let us know at a glance just what they’re all feeling and just how strongly they’re feeling it.

you know, i’d forgotten we only learn the name of the new world after enies lobby. we only get proper exposition about the revolutionary army and the yonkou here, too, despite them being set up since loguetown and jaya (or alabasta, or even chapter one if you count from shanks’s introduction) respectively. oda’s ability to parse out exposition and explanation so we always have just the right amount of information is really impressive- we always have more questions, but we also always have the feeling that those questions have answers, and that sooner or later they’ll be revealed.

points at shanks. i just think he’s neat.

it’s my opinion that one of the great joys of one piece is seeing luffy and the crew rise up in the world, and seeing them gain more and more notoriety. i love nothing they do ever happens in a vacuum- everything has impacts, and there are always outside eyes watching, and often those impacts are things that they never could have predicted.

ace and blackbeard is still, i think, definitely one of the coolest looking fights in the whole series. it’s not all that often we get to see two people with extremely flashy and showy abilities go all-out against each other, and the resulting fireworks are still really something to behold, despite how badly it all ends.

#the voyage so far #one piece #opmeta #long post #arc: enies lobby #arc: post enies lobby #not japanese

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redvoid-40 · 3 years

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A Game for a Kiss

Don’t ask me where this came from. I’ve watched BSD a couple months ago and of course I got the hots for the feral rat-man. -.-

Anyway, slowly I came up with a little plot for an arc with some OCs (weird calling them OCs, when they’re all named after past writers but oh well) and even thought about developing it, but since I’m not in the mood to write a whole multi-chaptered fic, I decided to just write this interaction between Fyodor and my main OC for the BSD-universe, Mary Shelley. You know, as a treat. >.<

I know the fandom is super small, but I thought someone might enjoy this, so here it is! :)

Also, Fyodor might be OOC (it’s hard to get a full understanding of his character) but I see him as creepy-pretty, with no qualms in manipulating women in ways that border on dub-con. So... TW: some making out; Fyodor’s thoughts making it clear his morals are more twisted than a pretzel.

Anyway, enjoy! :)

Part 1 / Part 2 (NSFW) / Part 3 (NSFW)

“How about a game?” Fyodor proposed, smiling from ear to ear as he moved a chessboard from the side table to the coffee table in front of them. It was small, with tiny and expensive crystal pieces that had a purely decorative role, but he had never minded playing with valuable and irreplaceable things before, so why start now? Much worse to die of boredom than to shatter a hundred-dollar pawn. “I heard you had quite the reputation at the Chess Club in Oxford.”

“It’s been a few years since I last played,” Mary admitted as placed her glass of anise-infused gin on the coffee table and reached out to touch the white king, as if she was caressing a long-lost lover. “Not sure I’ll be a worthy opponent to you, Mr Dostoevsky.”

“How about I give you some impetus then?” Fyodor asked, raising a sole eyebrow as Mary’s eyes shone with interest. “If you win, I’ll give you something. Something I know you want from me.”

Mary quickly pulled back, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie-jar. “You’re already doing so, and I’m eternally grateful for it. Helping me retrieve Adam and right my wrong is all I could ever hope for and more, Mr Dostoevsky. There’s nothing el-”

“A kiss.”

Fyodor’s smile widened and his eyes darkened as a pink dusted over Mary’s cheeks. Her dark eyes made it hard to discern her emotions, but if he were to guess, Fyodor would bet her pupils had doubled in size at his indiscretion.

“I can feel your gaze on me, Doctor Shelley. Every time I walk in a room, your eyes peruse my figure like I’m an appetising treat,” Fyodor spoke, feet planted on the floor as he projected his body forwards, elbows on spread knees and the fingers of his hands intertwined. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you are interested in me in a way that’s not entirely professional or proper.”

Mary reached for her lowball glass and quickly brought it to her lips, downing the rest of her gin in a way that also wasn’t professional or proper. Fyodor watched her throat move, amused and admitedly a bit impressed at the pace at which she was draining her gin, wondering if maybe he should have proposed a drinking game instead. Who would fare better, her with her gin infusions or him with his chilled vodka?

“... and if I lose?”

Fyodor blinked, lazily trailing his eyes up her chin, passing by her pouting lips, blushing cheeks and up to dark eyes that stared at him so attentively. Lips curled at the corners, he raised a single eyebrow, urging Mary to continue.

“If I lose the game, what would you demand as compensation?” She clarified, and Fyodor exhaled at how she pressed her thighs together beneath her knee-length, black skirt.

“I’m not sure,” Fyodor said. “Why don’t you let me decide later? If I win the game, that is.”

Mary’s eyes turned away from his, moving down to gaze at the empty glass in her hands as some luster in her eyes darkened into distrust. “I think I’ll pass on your offer, Mr Dostoevsky. A kiss for an IOU? Your proposition doesn’t sound fair to me.”

Fyodor retreated, letting his spine fall comfortably against the back of the sofa as an airy laugh left his lips. The woman wasn’t as foolish as he had expected, at least; despite admitting in all but words she was enamoured with him, her shackles remained raised, certain she couldn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

Must be a woman’s intuition, Fyodor thought, remembering the looks he so often received from the fairer sex throughout his late adolescence and adult life. So many inviting smiles were thrown his way, only to morph into barely veiled jitters when he got close enough to touch. For all his years of manipulating the brightest of the brightest to have his way, Fyodor still hadn’t figured out how to lull women into unravelling themselves for him without promises of money - or some other stimulant - as reward.

“If I win I vow not to abuse my freedom, and will only ask for something of equivalent value to what I offer,” Fyodor proposed, lips relaxing in a smile he hoped Mary deemed trustworthy. “And if you feel I ask too much, you can deny me and I’ll give up my reward altogether. Does that sound fair, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary looked at him through lowered lashes and he could almost hear the gears turning in her head, lust and reason rotating in opposing directions in a struggle to decide.

“Fair enough,” Mary spoke at last, and placed her glass back on the coffee table. Her hand then moved to the chessboard and spun it around so the white pieces were close to her. “But I play white.”

Fyodor almost protested, but the smile Mary threw his way demanded enough endearment that he’d allow her this little bit of despotism just this once.

He found he rather liked it.

---

To Fyodor’s surprise and satisfaction, Mary proved herself to be a worthy opponent. For the first time in years, Fyodor stood over a chessboard with furrowed eyebrows as he macerated the pad of his thumb between his teeth to the point he could taste iron on his tongue.

“Don’t do that. You’re hurting yourself.”

Fyodor had just moved his knight when a hand seemed to appear out of nowhere and gently wrapped around his wrist to guide his thumb out of his mouth. Purple eyes narrowed, shooting up from the board to Mary, but his scowl melted into something almost benign at finding the woman hunched over the board, positively pouting. Her hand released his wrist, leaving an imprint of heat on his flesh despite not touching skin, and floated back to her, fingers twitching as they hovered over her pieces, debating their next move.

There was a brief knock on the doors before they opened and in walked Ivan, pulling Fyodor’s attention just in time to see the narrowing of his silver eyes as they fell on the back of Mary’s head. The glare disappeared as soon as it came, so when Mary turned around to greet the newcomer with a polite smile, he responded with an enormous grin and flamboyant mannerisms.

“I’ve come to check upon you, see if everything was alright,” Ivan announced as he stood behind Mary, silver eyes fixed on Fyodor with adoration. “It’s almost midnight.”

Mary’s eyes widened in surprise as she reached for the phone she had forgotten on the cushion by her side. “Oh my, there are twenty calls from Jane. I really should take this thing off silent mode.”

Fyodor’s jaw tightened as Mary’s focus shifted from their match to her phone. “Ivan,” he called with a firm voice that demanded to be the centre of attention again. “Please, let Doctor Shelley’s companions know she is safe and sound with me, and that we’re both occupied at the moment. Also, would you be so kind to have someone bring us something to eat? Something sugary would be best. I will have a drink as well. Vodka, chilled but no ice,” then he lowered his eyes back to the woman in front of him and smiled as he motioned to her empty glass. “Doctor Shelley, would you care for another?”

“Ah, I-”

“A gin for the lady, Ivan. Thank you.”

Ivan’s smile didn’t falter as he bowed his head. “Of course, I’ll have someone bring your drinks. As for sweets, I believe there are a few strawberry shortcakes in the fridge. Would that be to your liking?”

This time, Fyodor remained silent as he stared at Mary, giving her the illusion she had a say in this whole matter, that she could choose her treat in the way she couldn’t choose to refuse a drink.

Mary’s eyes were glued to his and once again he noticed how her thighs rubbed together at his attention, leaving her phone forgotten by her side. Blushing, she craned her neck to glance at Ivan and nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Very well. Someone will bring everything here briefly,” Ivan said, moving his eyes back to Fyodor. “If you need me-”

“We will be fine,” Fyodor dismissed, purple eyes fixed on Mary as he gave her a smile that showed too many teeth. “I believe it’s your turn, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary nodded, turning her gaze to the chessboard. Her hand hovered while her brain readjusted to their match, reviewing the last rounds as it calculated the best moves she could make. It took her only a couple of seconds to review their entire game and make her move.

“Good,” Fyodor said, right hand rising to his lips out of habit, only to stop midway as he felt an intense stare on him. When he looked up, Mary was giving him a look that quickly morphed into a smile when he aborted the movement. He snorted and smiled back. “Worried about my delicate fingers?”

“You’re the one who said you have an anemic constitution,” Mary replied, eyes dropping back to the board. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself; it might take longer than usual to heal.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Fyodor said, letting his eyes move up and narrow slightly at finding Ivan remained still behind Mary, staring at him with a doll-like smile on his face and wide eyes. “Ivan, our drinks?”

“Oh, of course! My apologies,” the man said before bowing theatrically. “I’ll leave you to your match. Good night!”

Fyodor nodded as Mary turned back to Ivan, throwing a polite “Good night, Mr Goncharov”, before once more focusing her attention on their game, waiting for Fyodor to take his turn. He grinned, purple eyes fixed on her as he made his move, enjoying the way Mary’s lips pouted as she concentrated.

He really was having fun playing with her.

---

The game came to its inevitable conclusion hours later, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon and the birds chirped outside the window. After a couple slices of strawberry shortcake and a few refills of vodka and gin, Fyodor let his body fall back on the sofa, smiling from ear to ear as he stared at the pouting woman in front of him.

“Check-mate, Doctor,” Fyodor purred, purple eyes darkening in satisfaction.

Mary stared at the board for a couple more seconds, as if a solution to her defeat would present itself to her. But when none did, she sighed in acceptance as her forefinger gently laid down her king.

“Don’t beat yourself, Doctor. It was a splendid game; the best I had in years,” Fyodor commented.

“Thank you, Mr Dostoevsky. But your words don’t make defeat taste any less bitter.”

“I guess not,” Fyodor said. “Especially since I have to claim the spoils of my victory from you.”

Fyodor didn’t miss the glance Mary threw his way, clearly torn between enticed curiosity and rational diligence, clearly still wary that he hadn’t made his wants known before their game despite his guarantees. Those intelligent eyes clouded with lust made him lick his lips, and her breath hitched in response.

“I want… a kiss.”

Mary’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“I promised to ask for something reasonable, didn’t I?” Fyodor mused. “What’s more fair than to ask for the very thing I offered?”

“But then… why did we play?” Mary asked, head dropped to the side.

“Well, I don’t feel like moving at the moment,” Fyodor said, letting his knees fall open as his eyes ran over the woman in front of him. “So, since you’re the one owing me a kiss, you come here and give it to me.”

Fyodor had never seen someone’s skin change colour so rapidly before, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the bright red that bloomed all over the pale skin on Mary’s cheeks and neck. Without thinking, he brought his left thumb to his mouth, nibbling gently on the soft flesh as he regarded the woman with his own sort of unprofessional and improper interest.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” she said, eyeing the contour of his lips around his digit.

“Come and stop me,” he replied.

Mary swallowed his words with the same relish she swallowed her gin as she stood from the sofa, taking a moment to straighten the fabric of her pleated skirt, before walking towards him with soft, elegant steps. She came around the coffee table, sparing a glance at her toppled king before her eyes fell on his widespread knees and ran up his body until they reached his face. And while Fyodor was used to such appreciative looks, he didn’t expect the soft smile she gave him when their gazes crossed; it was usually at this moment that women stepped back from him, frightened by the intensity in his eyes.

Mary sat down by his left, so warm against the side of his body, and reached up with both hands to pull his thumb away from the abuse of his teeth. She brought his hand down to her chest to examine the damage, pouting when she saw the pad of his thumb was red and swollen, with a small laceration that had just barely crusted over and still threatened to bleed.

Fyodor watched her through half-lidded eyes, exhaling deeply when she glanced up at him. From such close-quarters he could make out the limits between the black of her pupils and the brown of her irises; just like he imagined, her pupils were dilated to extremes, wary of and eager for him. The red on her cheeks subsided, leaving a light pink colour in its place that enticed him to run his lips over the skin.

With a small quirk of her lips, Mary glanced back at his hand and shook her head at the damage on his thumb, before bringing it to her mouth to kiss the wound. The touch was soft as a rose’s petal but still knocked the breath out of Fyodor’s lungs. His warm breath gusted over the top of her head, then hitched as a soft, warm hand laid on his cheek.

“That was not what I had in mind when I asked for a kiss,” Fyodor spoke, smiling down at the woman.

A chuckle escaped Mary and once again she gave him that soft look he was unfamiliar with. Before he could taunt her further, Mary tilted her head and guided his face down, letting her lips ghost over a corner of his mouth before moving to the other, soft and sweet. Hypnotised, Fyodor’s eyelids fluttered shut as he relaxed into these teasing touches that, despite being feather-light in their delicacy, made heat rush in his veins like molten metal, erupting out of his heart to his cock and leaving a trail of feverish desire in his veins that demanded more. More contact, more kisses, more pressure.

Fyodor pushed forwards, folding his body over Mary as his hand reached out to grab the back of her neck, only to freeze mid-air as her cold air took the place of her warm flesh. Somewhere he heard an unholy sound, and only after he opened his dark purple yes to find startled brown staring back at him he noticed he was the source of it. He was growling.

In a fraction of a second, Fyodor wondered about the stage he had set for them. Had he misjudged her interest? Hadn’t he offered her enough drinks? How much did she need his help? How much did he need her and her companions? How far could he push? Was everyone in the house still asleep? If she screamed, would anyone come to help?

Brown eyes narrowed slightly and Fyodor swore he saw a glimpse of himself in them; of something aware, astute, and artful. It was there for a moment so short he wasn’t sure he had projected the connection, so before he could let his brain process it, he was once more being subjugated to that look. That nauseatingly soft look no one had ever given him before, and that he did not know what to do with.

Without words, Mary bent the rules of their game and took his turn from him, cancelled aggression with tenderness as she pushed him back against the sofa gently before swinging her leg over his lap to settle herself on his thighs, pulling a pleased hum from deep inside his chest.

“May I?” Mary asked, hand playing with the flap of his ushanka hat.

Smiling, Fyodor nodded, and Mary pulled the hat off his head. The motion left his hair messy, drawing a giggle from her lips as she combed the knots away so gently he couldn’t help but shut his eyes and relax against the caresses.

“Your hair is so soft,” Mary murmured, letting Fyodor smell the gin and strawberries on her breath. He felt her fingers dance on his face, collecting his long fringe to push it back and away from his features. “And you’re so beautiful.”

Fyodor’s eyes opened slightly, just enough so he could stare at the rosy lips hovering so close to his. His hands twitched by his sides, unsure where to go or how to touch. He was used to grabbing, pulling, bruising and scratching; not to soft lips or delicate touches dancing over his skin like her hands ghosted over the chess-pieces only minutes before.

Mary’s lips let out a delicious, trembling breath before moving towards him, avoiding his own mouth altogether to give a kiss on his cheek before moving to whisper into his ear: “You feel so tense. Relax.”

Easier said than done, Fyodor thought, turning his head to bury his nose in Mary’s long, black hair and breath in the scent of her shampoo - something citrusy and common that made him light-headed in a way he only felt when his anaemia got the best of him, causing him to black out and wake up stretched on a hospital bed, with an IV bag of O- blood connected to his arm.

Still, he couldn’t possibly lose consciousness now, not with Mary’s warm body grounding him so sweetly, not with her breasts pressed against his chest and the heat between her legs trapping him against the sofa’s cushions in the best possible way. Gently, like everything she did, Mary finally laid her mouth over his, allowing a whimper to escape the back of her throat when he pressed against her, not as much as he would have liked, but enough to hold back the most violent aspects of his desires, for now.

At the contact, Fyodor’s passive hands took action, sneaking up Mary’s thighs and hips, before slipping under her blouse to rack his short nails over her naked back as he used his hold over her to press her heat harder against his cock. He half-expected her to pull back again, startled at his boldness, but Mary surprised him by letting out a delighted gasp as she tightened her grip on his hair and arched her back, pushing her breasts even more against his chest.

Fyodor took the opportunity and shoved his tongue inside her mouth, groaning as the taste of her invaded his senses. One of his hands danced over Mary’s skin, causing her to shudder as it tickled by her ribs before moving up to her-

“Oh, Dos! Are you in there? Why is the door locked?”

Nikolai’s happy-go-lucky voice breached the door’s barrier, causing Mary to pull back from their kiss, panting. Fyodor’s nails tensed over her skin before his hands relaxed again, dropping to her waist as he sighed and dropped his forehead against her collarbone.

“I guess your debt is paid, Doctor,” Fyodor spoke against her skin. “There’s work to be done.”

“Of course. I have my mission in a couple of hours as well,” Mary agreed as she pulled away to stand up on shaky legs. “It would be best if I got a couple some sleep before it.”

Fyodor glanced down at himself, at the wet spot on the crotch of his pants, and looked up at her through half-lidded eyes with a devil’s smirk. “Think you need a shower too?”

Mary blushed as she straightened her clothes in a modicum of decency. “I guess.”

Fyodor chuckled, but before he could tease her further, Nikolai’s loud voice invaded the room once more, making his eyes roll upwards in exasperation.

“Quiz time! How long until I force the door open? Two minutes? Two seconds?”

“I will leave you two alone,” Mary said. “Excuse me, Mr Dostoevsky.”

Fyodor nodded dismissively, but the look in his eyes was anything but uninterested. “I will see you later… Mary.”

The woman’s breath hitched at having her first name spoken with such heavy desire before she quickly made her escape, almost slamming against Nikolai when she unlocked the door.

“Good morning, Mr Gogol,” she said with a polite smile.

“Good morning, Mary!” He replied enthusiastically, pulling one of her hands to his lips. “What a treat to see your charming figure so early in the day! Don’t tell me Dos has summoned you at such ungodly hours to talk business?”

“Oh no, we were just having a match,” Mary said, pointing to the chessboard on the coffee table. “He wiped the floor with me.”

Nikolai took a few moments to examine the board and what he saw made him raise an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Really? Looks like a tight match to me,” he said, before turning to Mary. “Next time you should invite me so I can cheer you on! Gods, what I wouldn’t give to watch Dos lose a game…”

Mary chuckled and opened her mouth, but Fyodor beat her to the punch. “You wanted to talk, Nikolai?” He called, smiling tightly at the other Russian. “Come in and close the door behind you.”

“Hmm, grumpy,” Nikolai whispered, sharing a conspiratory smile with Mary as he once again kissed the back of her hand. “Lovely to see you, my dear.”

“You too, Mr Gogol. Have a good one,” Mary said before walking away, throwing one last smile in Fyodor’s direction.

Nikolai waved at Mary’s back as she walked away, closing the door once she turned a corner.

“You know,” Nikolai began in Russian, spinning on his heels to face Fyodor. Both men smiled, but the emotions they showed were something dark, almost cruel. “I believe this is the first time I see a woman in a room alone with you leave without tears in her eyes.”

Feet planted on the floor and knees spread, unashamed of his hard-on or the wet spot on the fabric of his pants, Fyodor hummed a little song as he reached for his hat and adjusted it back on his head. Satisfied, he reached forward and grabbed Mary’s fallen king from the board.

“Honestly, my friend,” he said, bringing the piece to his smiling lips. “I do not know what you’re talking about.”

#bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor x oc #fyodor dostoevsky #ivan goncharov #bsd #bungo stray dogs #nikolai gogol #does this piece of self-indugent writing classify as an one-shot?#even when it's so clearly part of something way bigger that will never be?#anyway i wrote what i wrote #you can't tell me fyodor doesn't give out some creepy vibes #that anime smile is a panty-dropper but also creepy af

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the-void-i-scream-into · 3 years

Text

White Tulips - a JunJin fanfic 1/3

Full Story: Part 2, Part 3

Hello everyone! I hope everyone who is reading this is healthy and safe. This is a fanfic about my favorite characters, Kang Sujin and Han Seojun. I really love these two together so I wrote what I had hoped to see in True Beauty. This is my first time writing fanfiction so its not that good. But I hope you still enjoy it. I didn’t change anything from True Beauty, rather continued the events from the ending with a focus on giving Sujin the redemption arc she so rightly deserved.

I really have to thank everyone on the shooters gc, especially @prodmina, for being so amazing and awesome. Never before have I come accross such amazing, wonderful, open and friendly group of people. I’m not that active on the chat, but I am so grateful it exists. Thank you to everyone on there. This is dedicated to you all.

Pairing: Kang Sujin x Han Seojun

Romantic Trope: Haters to friends to lovers

Word Count: 5.9k

Rating: T

PART 1

If you asked Han Seojun why he loved Lim Jukyung, he wouldn’t be able to answer. His feelings for her overwhelmed him to the point of inarticulation. His heart still skipped a beat every time he saw her at dinner with their group. He still found himself staring at her from time to time, unable to look away from her beauty. He even wrote songs about her, his only form of expressing his love for her.

He still thought of her in every free minute he had between practice, performance and recording sessions. When he couldn’t see her, he would watch her make-up tutorials online. He was proud of how far she had come with her career as a make-up artist. Her popularity was a source of delight for him. It was only appropriate that everyone see how amazing she was.

The only problem was, Lim Jukyung didn’t belong to him. She belonged to Lee Suho, his best friend.

Seojun was happy for the two of them. They were the best people he knew and even he had to acknowledge that they belonged together. Which was why, having these feelings were burdensome for Seojun.

It was burdensome, seeing them all lovey-dovey with each other and talking about their lives together. Normally Seojun would have faked a smile, but when they were all together in a group he scowled without reserve. He got away with it because right beside Suho and Jukyung, sat Taehoon and Suah who were the kind of cheesy couple that made anyone barf.

In fact, just the thought of Suah and Taehoon fawning over each other made him cringe. Even now as he walked into the special private room they frequented for their gatherings—private due to Seojun’s and Jukyung’s popularity—Seojun was pushing back his gag reflex at the squealing he could hear outside.

He scolded them as he entered the room. “Guys! I can hear you all the way from the front entrance. Why are you always so—” He stopped in his tracks. There, between a giggling Jukyung and beaming Suah sat the worst person Seojun had ever known.

Her.

He had heard peripherally about how she had changed now, having reformed as a charity worker. She had apparently apologized to Jukyung about the shitty things she had done before. As if an apology could change anything.

Han Seojun knew Jukyung had forgiven Kang Sujin. That woman had even attended Heekyung’s wedding. But Seojun didn’t understand why she had to invade their special gatherings.

The room had fallen silent. Everyone awkwardly stared at Seojun, then Sujin.

“It’s been a while, Han Seojun.” She said with a polite smile. Her voice deeper than most girls’. He always hated her voice and its lack of femininity.

Ya Han Seojun, are you a gangster?!

Seojun pushed the memory away.

“Ah-aah! Han Seojun. You must be surprised.” Jukyung said with forced cheerfulness. “I invited Sujin to join us today.

Seojun merely flicked a cynical brow at Jukyung and took his usual seat besides Suho. Suah and Jukyung nervously returned to their conversation.

The uncomfortable air in the room subsided after a while and everyone chatted cheerfully with each other. Everyone except Han Seojun.

“I saw your performance on TV. You looked good.” Suho told Seojun.

“Why the hell have you invited Kang Soojin?” Seojun asked Suho in a hushed tone.

“She’s a friend, of course she’s invited.”

“Why are you friends with her again?”

“Seojun, its fine.”

Seojun opened his mouth to protest but before he could, Sujin interrupted him.

“Ya, Han Seojun. I saw your performance on TV. I didn’t know you could sing so well.” She said, not sounding too impressed. “You were great.”

It was a peace offering. A way to start off on the right foot.

Seojun gave a sarcastic smile and tilted his head. “You should have known I was that good. I performed in school, didn’t I?”

“Oh right. I guess I didn’t really pay attention before.”

“You were too busy giving all of your attention to Lee Suho. I don’t expect you to have noticed anybody else.”

This time, the silence in the room was palpable. Taehoon audibly gulped. The only person unfazed was Sujin.

“Yeah. I was obsessed with Suho.” She said simply. “But now that I look back,” she made a frame with her forefingers and thumbs, “I think what the hell does Jukyung see in you?”

“Ya!” Suho protested so seriously that Jukyung giggled, breaking the tension.

“Honestly Jukyung. You’d be better off with me as your boyfriend.” Suah and Taehoon joined the laughter.

“Ya Kang Sujin, you stay away from my girlfriend.” Suho protested, pouting.

“You’re too serious, Lee Suho. Jukyung needs someone more fun.”

“At least I don’t go around kicking people in the face.”

“You wouldn’t be able to do it, even if you tried.”

“I know jujitsu, you know.”

“Okay, okay!” Jukyung said. And that was it, the friends were back to normal.

Seojun kept out of the conversations, eating and drinking on his own. No one dared to bother him lest he say something else to ruin the mood.

Han Seojun didn’t care to maintain a good mood. He had no tolerance for people like Kang Sujin; people who were bullies. And especially not when said bully had hurt someone he cared about very deeply. He didn’t buy this act that Sujin was pulling. He knew, that people never changed.

The conversation turned to Sujin and her charity work overseas. She talked animatedly about the children she and her non-profit group worked for. It made Seojun’s blood boil, how she was using a noble cause as a front for her true cold-hearted personality. That angel bullshit may work on others, but it would not work on Seojun.

He kept a close eye on her the entire time, almost glaring to the point where Suho had to poke him with his elbow to get him to look away. But Suho was blind, he should have seen how Sujin’s face gave the barest of glances of pain when he and Jukyung kissed each other and pulled each other’s cheeks and talked about living together.

“Oh, you guys share an apartment?” No one else noticed the high-pitchiness of Sujin’s voice when she asked this. No one, expect Seojun.

And then there was the stolen glances at Suho. That was the final nail in the coffin. Seojun was convinced that Sujin was pretending to be over Suho. She was still in love with him. And that was a problem.

“What’s wrong with you?” Suho confronted Seojun outside, when it was just the two of them waiting for the others to leave.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know the kind of person Kang Sujin is? How can you let her in again?”

“Calm down, Seojun-ah. That was all years ago.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that she hurt Jukyung.”

“She’s not a bad person. I know her better than you. She made a mistake.”

“She knew what she was doing.”

“Haven’t you ever made a mistake before? Or are you telling me that blaming me for Seyeon’s death was the right thing to do?”

Seojun was quiet.

“Seojun-ah, don’t take this the wrong way. You have a tendency to judge too quickly, and misunderstand. If you really hate her that much then talk to her and ask her about her reasons. Don’t just go on assuming something is the way it is because you think so.”

Seojun grit his teeth.

“Shall we go?” Jukyung came up from behind, taking Suho’s arm. The rest of the group was behind her.

“Yeah. Bye everyone. See you next time.” The couple waved as others waved back. “Seojun, I hope you’ll think about what I said.”

Seojun just nodded and waved too. He watched Jukyung and Suho disappear into the crowd on the street.

The rest of them said their goodbyes and went their way, Seojun leaving after giving Sujin a distrusting side-eye.

ii.

I don’t want to be a fool like you and be just friends, only to like him one sidedly.

It had been such a long time ago when Kang Sujin had said this to Han Seojun, but he remembered it like it was yesterday. That and a couple of other memories that played in his mind, causing whiplash.

Ya Han Seojun, are you a gangster?!

Those words especially felt like a slap on his face. He could actually feel his cheek burning at the image of Kang Sujin standing there in her uniform, telling off him and his boys about bullying Jukyung.

He had respected her back then, for having the guys to stand up for her friend. Even though she had been all haughty like some arrogant princess and thought him a fool, he had still respected her. He had never expected her to turn out to be such a vile person.

Am I handsome?

Yes.

No, no, no. That was one incident he refused to remember. It meant nothing. Only a source of surprise at her bluntness, nothing more.

“Seojun, we’re going to hit the showers now, are you done?”

Seojun didn’t hear Chorong as he ran on the treadmill. His body was in the gym but his mind as fully occupied by Kang Sujin, as it had been for the past week.

“Han Seojun, are you listening?”

She must have had a reason for suddenly showing up out of the blue. She had disappeared completely when the truth about her had been revealed online. Obviously, she ran away like a coward. If she was back now, it must be because she wanted something. Kang Sujin could be very calculating and manipulative.

Was it because of Lee Suho?

“Han Seojun!”

Chorong’s voice snapped Seojun out of his thoughts and he fell backward from his treadmill.

“OOOH! Are you okay?”

“YA! Why would you do that?!” Seojun snapped at Chorong as he got back up. He checked himself for bruises though his dignity caught the worst of it.

“Ah-nee, I called you so many times. You were totally checked out.” Chorong explained.

“Does that make sense? Why would I be checked out?”

“Well… you have been out of it this past week. Has something been bothering you?”

Something had been bothering him; something with silky, black hair and long legs.

“What? You met Kang Sujin?” His entire posse sounded as he told them about her return. Seojun put a finger in his ears as he was bombarded with questions.

“Did she apologize to Jukyung? Are they friends now?”

“Did she tell where she was all that time?”

“Is she still pretty?”

“Is she single?”

“What is she doing these days?”

Seojun ignored all of these useless inquiries.

“Hey! Did you al forget the kind of person she is? How could you ask if she is still pretty?”

“She must be. I bet she’s still the same.”

“She was never pretty.” Seojun declared. “I can never understand what people see in her.”

“That’s because you only have eyes for one.” One of them teased and the rest of them Ooh-ed like school girls.

“Ah, shikkeureo! Shut up!” Chorong said in defense of Seojun. Out of everyone, Chorong understood best how much Seojun still pined for Jukyung. “So, what exactly is bothering you about Kang Sujin?”

“I don’t trust her. Especially around Jukyung.”

“Wae? Do you think she might still be after Lee Suho.”

“Yes. At least I suspect so. I’m not sure what game she’s playing at but I’m not buying this angel persona she has on.”

“So? You can’t exactly stop Jukyung from choosing to be friends with her.”

“I feel I can convince Jukyung if I talk to her.”

“She might just tell you to try to get along with Sujin.”

This was true. Jukyung was too nice and trusting with people. Seojun thought long and hard.

“I’ll have to protect her. I’ll have to keep Kang Sujin away from Jukyung.”

iii.

He had been on his way to the studio, casually riding by on his bike, when he saw her. She was in some blue vest, clearly a uniform of some sort. She was handing out fliers to people who passed by, smiling widely with that fake innocent look she had perfected. What a crock of shit. Seojun swerved around and parked his bike, then sauntered up to her with an amused expression.

She lit up when she saw him approach, waving animatedly at him. Her happiness upon seeing him surprised him so much that he stumbled and almost fell. He played it off as nothing, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

“Ya Han Seojun, gimme your autograph.” She grinned as she pushed forward a petition to help kids in Africa.

Seojun didn’t take it. “What are you doing?” He asked rhetorically, looking at the pictures of children she had set up for people to see along with information as to how to donate. So she’s using these poor kids for her own selfish reasons?

“Huh?” Sujin hadn’t missed his tone. “Just sign it, its for a good cause. And being charitable will help your image too, no?” She tried appealing to his logic.

“Ooooh,” Seojun mocked, “So you keep up the pretense even when you’re not around Jukyung? Isn’t this a too much, Kang Sujin?”

Sujin’s smile dropped into a snarl, “What?”

“I’m on to you, Kang Sujin.” Seojun got up in her face. “Ah-nee, if you’re going to pretend to be all reformed then you shouldn’t make it too obvious. Charity work is a little too on the nose, don’t you think?”

Sujin stared at him in shock and anger. Seojun suddenly recalled how well Sujin had kicked those thugs who had kidnapped Jukyung back in high school and gulped. He hoped she wouldn’t try to kill him in public but it was too late to take back what he said.

“Han Seojun…” Sujin said through clenched teeth and Seojun prepared for the worst.

Ya Han Seojun! Are you a gangster?!

But she said nothing. Instead she calmed herself, exhaling through her mouth.

“I probably deserve that.” She said, not backing away or cowering from him. She pushed the flier in his chest, “But don’t make these kids suffer because of your anger towards me. They could really use the support.”

Seojun looked down at the flier. He couldn’t sign anything without the consent of his agency. So he folded it up and pocketed it. Along with his pride. He could put his ego aside for a good cause.

“These kids deserve a better person representing them than you.” Seojun said. Sujin pressed her lips tightly.

“Aren’t you being a little too harsh? I’m not the same person anymore. And Jukyung has—”

“You may have everyone else fooled, Kang Sujin. But I will always remember what you are.” With that, Seojun walked away, his hand twitching.

iv.

The next time they all met up, Seojun made sure to sit between Sujin and Jukyung. He felt uncomfortable because he had to bump shoulders with her, but he would bear it for Jukyung.

Suho gave Seojun a warning look when they all sat down. Don’t do anything excessive, the look said. Seojun ignored it.

He could feel Sujin’s stiffness beside him. This was uncomfortable for her too. Good. If I’m suffering, she should too. But she kept up her polite façade, smiling like nothing bothered her.

Seojun made sure to keep her isolated from Jukyung. He didn’t let her speak to Jukyung, didn’t let her participate in the competitions. He even didn’t let her eat properly.

“Jukyung-ah, did I show you my pictures from—”

“Jukyung-ah, has your sister told you about the tour we’re planning?” Seojun interrupted.

Jukyung would be at a loss as to who to answer and Seojun would move forward, blocking Sujin.

When Suho or Jukyung tried to ask Sujin what she wanted to eat first, he took the first dish he saw and shoved it in front of her.

“Here, have this Kang Sujin.”

“I don’t want it.” She said with an unamused look.

“Take it.” He ordered in his intimidating baritone.

They glared at each other , Sujin’s face twitching with annoyance. Seojun mentally dared her to snap at him but she swallowed her pride, quite literally, and put on a fake smile.

“Thanks.” She said dryly.

By the end of dinner, Han Seojun had successfully managed to annoy Kang Sujin. Her fake persona was slipping as she clenched her jaw and exhaled excessively to keep her temper in check. Seojun guessed he would have her true personality on display by the end of the night.

“Han Seojun what are you doing?” Suho confronted him outside.

“What did I do?” Seojun feigned ignorance.

“You need to sto—”

“Han Seojun. Let’s talk.” Sujin strode up to them from behind, her face set with determination.

“No.” Seojun said.

“I wasn’t asking. I was telling.” And there she was, the old Sujin. Gone was the politeness and friendly demeanor. She stared boldly at him, almost challenging him to refuse again.

“Seojun-ah, just hear her out.” Jukyung broke through their staring match. Seojun could never say no to her. But he didn’t get a chance to say yes either.

Sujin simply commanded, “Follow me,” and grabbed the collar of his jacket, dragging him away.

“Ya! What are you doing?!” But Kang Sujin was stronger than she looked and Seojun found himself being pulled against his will.

The rest of them could only stare.

“Do you think they’ll be alright?” Suah asked, concerned.

“Nope. I’m certain they’ll kill each other.” Suho replied nonchalantly.

“My money’s on Sujin.” Taehoon and Suah said together.

“You’re on.” Suho replied.

iv.

“Are you crazy? How could you grab me like that?” Seojun smoothened the collar of his coat that Sujin had bunched up in her fist. She had let go when he had said that he would follow enough times. They walked together, Sujin going ahead of him. He quickly put on his mask. “How can a girl be so strong?” He said under his breath. Then spoke aloud, “Is this any way to treat an idol?”

Sujin suddenly turned on her heels, stopping Seojun in his tracks. She was a little too close for comfort and looked intimidated with that unfiltered anger on her face. “Just shut up and follow.”

Seojun put his hands on his hips, tilting his head. He was unimpressed by her tough attitude. He gestured forward with his chin, “Then move.”

He followed her, keeping a small distance between them. She marched forward, taking long strides with her long, long legs. She looked like a general going to war.

“She calls me a thug. She should look at herself.” He mumbled.

Sujin led them to a secluded pocha, street food vendor with small plastic seats housed inside a plastic tent. Seojun adjusted his mask.

“Relax, no one here is going to recognize you.” Sujin said, sensing his discomfort. Indeed, when Seojun looked around, all he saw were hold ahjusshis getting drunk and babbling nonsense. None of them seemed like his fans.

Still, Sujin led them in a corner table and sat where he was hidden by her. She ordered two bottles of soju and side dishes for him. He simply watched with his arms crossed.

The silence between them was awkward and heavy. Neither of them said anything. Han Seojun openly stared at Sujin. Kang Sujin looked everywhere but him. The lady brought them their order. Sujin effortlessly opened a bottle and moved to fill his glass. Seojun put his hand on top of his glass to stop her.

With a sigh, he took the bottle from her and poured for himself. She followed suit. They both took a shot.

Sujin sat up straight, shuffling in her seat. She first looked down at her hands in her lap, then looked up, straight in his eyes.

“Mianhae.” It took him by surprise. More than that, the regret on her face moved him. If only by an inch. “I’m sorry, Han Seojun. What I did back then… I was going through some personal issues, and I took it out on Jukyung. But even that is not a good enough excuse. I shouldn’t have done what I did. And even what I said to you… even after you gave me a chance to delete the video… I’m sorry.” She gulped and Seojun mirrored her. “You were right. I was only destroying myself. I should have seen that. But I have changed now. I’m not the same person. I know you’re important to Jukyung. So I hope we can get along from now on.”

Seojun took another shot. He took a minute, considering her words.

“If its forgiveness you want, then Kang Sujin, there is nothing to forgive between us. Your fight was with Jukyung. Not me.” Sujin appeared relieved till Seojun added, “However, my problem with you isn’t because of old grudges. I just can’t trust you, Kang Sujin. I believe you still will hurt Jukyung, even if you don’t mean to. And I can’t let that happen.”

Sujin’s mouth became small. She jutted her jaw, pouring another shot for herself. She downed it aggressively before responding. “I’m not the same girl anymore. I’m not in love with—”

“I keep hearing that you’ve changed. But have you really? Can you honestly tell me that you’re over him?”

“I am over him.”

“Bull shit. I saw the way you were looking Suho. All throughout dinner—”

“Aren’t you just projecting your own feelings onto me?” Sujin interrupted.

Seojun laughed incredulously, “What?”

“The one who’s not over their unrequited love is you. You’re not over Jukyung.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. All these years you’ve been pretending to be her friend. Aren’t you the one being two faced?”

“I’ve already confessed to her. We even went on a date.” Seojun crossed his arms with a smirk.

This was news to Sujin, “Aah. Is that so? Then isn’t that more pathetic? Even though she clearly doesn’t want you—”

“Ya, Kang Sujin.”

“—you’re still not over her. I too saw how you looked at her. With that pathetic puppy dog expression on your face. Don’t you think this is awkward for Jukyung? Sitting there with her boyfriend and—”

“Shut your damn mouth.”

“Wae? Don’t like it when the tables are turned on you?” Sujin and Seojun glared at each other with hatred. Seojun poured and downed a shot. Sujin swallowed and looked away. This was not how she imagined this conversation going.

“I’m not in love with her.” Seojun declared.

Sujin snorted, “Hul. Then why is it you who is giving me this lecture and not Lee Suho? If I’m really such a threat to Lim Jukyung, then shouldn’t her boyfriend be the one to confront me? What gives you the right to treat me this way?”

Seojun paused. “I can give you a million reasons; that I’m her friend, that even though I’m not her boyfriend, she stills relies on me, that I’m doing this out of humanity.”

Sujin scoffed.

“That I don’t want to lose another friend because of bullying.”

Sujin’s face fell. She licked her lips as she considered his point of view. Then, wordlessly, she poured him a drink.

“I’m not a bully. I never was. I did a shitty thing that I’ve apologized for and now I’d like to move on with my life.” She poured herself a shot of soju too. “I care about Jukyung. I will always regret what I did to her. But I still have a chance at friendship and I am going to take it whether you like it or not.”

They both took the shot. Sujin poured them another.

“We both care about Jukyung. And she would want us to get along, or at least pretend to for her sake.” Sujin gave Seojun a pointed look. The ball was in his court now.

Seojun remembered how uncomfortable Jukyung had been because of his hostility towards Sujin. True, Sujin wasn’t the kind to be trusted. Seojun was a man of action, he didn’t believe in hollow words. But it was also true that fighting with Sujin all the time would cause problems in their peaceful little group. And although he was sure that when it came to it, everyone would choose him and not her, he still held up the shot glass and said, “For Jukyung’s sake.”

The two drunken enemies staggered on the sidewalk, each supporting the other while trying not to fall; a drunk trying to steady another drunk.

“Ah-nee-ya, I’m not *hic* not in love with Jukyung. I don… I don…”

“Arassssso. And I’mf the Pwincess of England.” Sujin slurred, pushing Seojun upright as she tried to hail a taxi.

“Na ah-nee-ya. I’m not. Nope.” Seojun hiccuped.

“Ah just sstand still!” Sujin pushed his body away but his arm was still draped over her shoulder.

“Ah sshutup! Shut up you stupid Suijin!” Seojun started snickering at his own statement, “Hehehe. Stupid Suji. Sujinnie phabo.” Seojun pushed his weight onto her, still chortling.

“Ah stand still!!” Sujin wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him up. She was suddenly very aware of just how tall he was. Even with her own impressive height, he seemed too big.

A taxi finally stopped and Sujin struggled with pushing Seojun inside. She pushed him in with her legs when he bent over on the seat but refused to move further to give her room.

“Where to?” The driver asked when they both were seated.

“Han Seojun, tell him your address.”

Seojun fell to the other side, passed out. Sujin, who herself felt like passing out, leaned over to tap his face, “Han Seojun? Ya! Wake uuup.” He did not.

“Are we leaving or not?” The driver asked impatiently.

Sujin shook Seojun again. He stirred, only to mumble Jukyung’s name and pass out on her shoulder again. Sujin looked at the driver helplessly.

vi.

The first thing Seojun felt was the pounding headache, it brought him out of a very nice dream he’d been having that he promptly forgot. He could feel his legs sticking out from the side of the bed. In turning over, his elbow punched into something.

“Oof! Ow! What the hell!”

Sujin kicked at him as she pressed her ribs in pain. They both were surprised to find themselves tangled in each other. It took them exactly three seconds to start screaming.

They both flew off the bed, Sujin hitting Seojun repeatedly with her pillow.

“Ow! Ow! Ah! OW!”

“Why. Are. You. In. My. Bed?!”

“Why am I here? Why are you here?”

“This is my room asshole!”

Seojun grabbed Sujin’s wrist to keep her from hitting him. He looked around and indeed it was Sujin’s room.

“What the hell happened?” He asked.

She kicked him in the shin, “How the hell would I know? Explain yourself, Han Seojun!”

“You explain! How can I end up here if you didn’t bring me?”

Sujin’s raised foot, about to kick Seojun, slowly lowered. She was suddenly hit with the memory of last night. Drunkenly trying to enter the code to her door as Seojun whined about missing Jukyung, stumbling into her apartment and dragging Seojun by his collar to the couch, falling on top of him as he fell and then immediately picking herself up and going into her room to pass out.

Seojun put his hands on his hips defiantly, “Kang Sujin. We got drunk last night didn’t we? Aish, chincha. I never thought you’d be the kind of girl to take advantage of a guy like that.”

“Ah-ni-godun! That would never happen! I only brought you here because you wouldn’t tell me your address.”

“Ah, what a nice excuse. And whose idea was it to go drinking any way? Was this your plan all along? Of course, its understandable that you’d want a rebound with the most handsome guy around.”

Sujin scoffed in disbelief. “That’s not the case!” She protested. “And what handsome? I find you laughable.”

“And I find you detestable.”

“Then why did you come into my bedroom when I left you out on the couch?”

A flash of memory sparked in Seojun’s mind; of getting up, using Sujin’s bathroom and going into the bedroom thinking he was at Chorong’s place.

The red spreading on his cheeks was a dead giveaway to Sujin that she had him.

Seojun cleared his throat, “No matter what, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Of course, it doesn’t.”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment as they wondered what to do next. They both spoke together.

“You should probably go.”

“I should leave.”

A rare agreement. They both nodded in sync.

“But… is there a back door to your apartment? I can risk having my face seen leaving a girl’s apartment.”

Sujin licked her lips as she considered this. “I think I have an idea.”

From the outside, Kang Sujin’s apartment door cracked open, just enough for two heads to poke out to check if the coast was clear. One of those heads was wearing a beanie, a mask and sunglasses. The other was Sujin. They both sneaked out of her apartment and beelined for the emergency stairs.

“Why is your apartment so up high?”

“We can always go in the elevator where my neighbors can see you.”

“I hate you.”

Finally making it out the back exit, the two relaxed.

“How are you going to get home?” She asked him.

“I’ll take the bus. Nobody will recognize me when I’m like this.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate fangirls.”

Seojun chuckled, “Never do. Bye then.”

Seojun turned, then paused, then turned back. “Kang Sujin.” He called out to her just as she was about to go in. “Thanks… for not just abandoning me last night.” It was the most difficult thank-you he had ever said.

Sujin simply nodded. “Get home safely.”

vii.

Sujin didn’t remember going back up to her apartment, just the click of the door shutting behind her that pulled her out of her daze.

She had just spent the night with Han Seojun. Admittedly, it meant nothing, but it still felt weird and she didn’t know what to do about it.

Maybe I should have asked him to eat before he went. He must have been hungry. She thought. And then scolded herself, Ah-nee, why would I care about him? He doesn’t matter to me anyway.

Traces of Han Seojun still lingered in her apartment; the bedsheet that had fallen on the floor, along with the pillow she had assaulted him with, his spicy scent on the bed and a metal ring on her bedside table that he must have taken off during the night.

Sujin held up the ring, looking through it. She would give it to him later, if they met again. She hoped they didn’t. She was already dreading the thought of encountering him again.

Kang Sujin didn’t let herself think too much about last night. She changed her sheets, showered and firmly put all thoughts of a certain idol out of her mind. He was just a silly twerp who had been a thug in high school and was now just an idol. He had nothing to do with her, nor she with him.

She had better things to do, like her work.

If you’re going to pretend to be all reformed then you shouldn’t make it too obvious. Charity work is a little too on the nose, don’t you think?

Nope, she wasn’t going to let that idiot get to her. Who was he to treat her like this? Next time she saw him, she would kick him in the face. Yes, that’s what she would do.

I keep hearing that you’ve changed. But have you really? Can you honestly tell me that you’re over him?

All day long Sujin’s hand twitched with the need to be scrubbed clean. They kept getting clammy and sticky. She wanted to scrub, scurb, scurb them of all the dirt and the grime and the filth of her past self. Sujin had believed that she had kicked this bad habit of unnecessarily cleaning her hands, but apparently she hadn’t.

My problem with you isn’t because of old grudges. I just can’t trust you, Kang Sujin. I believe you still will hurt Jukyung, even if you don’t mean to.

“Well who the hell wants your trust?” Sujin argued with the wind.

“Is everything okay?” One of the girls she worked with asked.

“What? Oh-um-yeah. Everything is fine! Just… talking to myself.” She put on a fake cheery attitude and shook her head.

It was only when Sujin’s day was finally over, and she was back in her empty apartment, leaning against her front door, that let herself feel the misery she had been suppressing.

Of course that Han Seojun hates me. What reason does he have not to?

Even the person who had been obligated to love and protect her, had only ever seen her as worthless. If her own father, couldn’t treat her with decency, then why should she expect a stranger to?

Her small apartment suddenly seemed so much bigger now. Big and empty, with shadows extending from the ground to the roof.

Kang Sujin, were you always such a piece of trash?

She hadn’t answered him back then. But in these quiet moments, she allowed herself to admit, “Yes, Han Seojun. I was always such a worthless piece of trash.”

Back when she had been a kid—running away from her problems in school, from what she had done to Jukyung—she would let this darkness take over. It would eat her inside and out till she was just a shell. However, now that he had grown up, she had learned how to deal with this on her own.

Sujin pushed herself off of the door and walked into her room, turning on all of the lights. Rest, she needed rest. And food, before anything else. Most of the time her depression would just be weakness caused by hunger. She was indeed careless with her health.

Her phone buzzed suddenly. It was a message from Jukyung. She would respond later. First she would spend time on herself. But then, almost immediately, there was a message from Suah. Then Suho. Even Taehoon. Then the phone lit up with a call from Jukyung.

“What’s going o—”

“Kang Sujin, have you seen the articles?”

“What?”

“There’s articles about you and Seojun dating.”

“WHAT?” It took Sujin a full minute to process what Jukyung was saying. She was speaking but Sujin didn’t hear the rest. Jukyung’s voice was muted from the speaker as Sujin searched through Naver for her and Seojun’s name.

“It’s all over the internet.” Jukyung was saying. “Someone’s posted pictures of you and Seojun together. Sujin-ah. Is that really you? Are you and Seojun dating?”

The room began to spin and Sujin had the urge to kick someone in the face.

“Jukyung-ah. I’ll call you back.”

What the hell happened?”

The articles Sujin found showed her and Seojun exiting her building. It was from this morning. Seojun’s face was well hidden but she could be clearly seen. From the way the pictures were taken, it looked as if the two were involved in something together.

Sujin’s phone suddenly lit up with an unknown number. She knew it could only be Han Seojun.

She pressed answer.

Some JunJin images I came up with just for fun

#junjin #Kang Sujin #Han Seojun #True Beauty #True Beauty Kdrama #Kdrama Fanfiction #True Beauty Fanfiction #Seojun x Sujin #Kang Soojin #Kang Sujin Fanfiction #Han Seojun Fanfiction #kdrama #fanfiction #park yoona #hwang inyeop

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mrsluttystark · 4 years

Text

Repeat After Me

Tony was growing tired of his life, the never ending routine he’d tied himself down to. Even with a fiancee, a stable job, and a comfortable life, there was hardly a time where he didn’t think about the past to escape the present. He could never have guessed a simple friend request and a pretty Peter Parker would be his undoing as well as his sanctuary. 18+

Part 1 | Part 2

Tags: nff, age difference, former teacher/student

Word count: 3.1k

Read below the cut

Peter hadn’t been on Facebook in years...technically. Maybe every so often just to update his profile picture so people knew he didn’t still look like a 15 year old with a face riddled with baby fat. Sure, he could just delete his account, but he’ll admit he likes knowing what his high school classmates are up to. It was interesting to see how some people he’s known since elementary school turned out now that they were all college graduates. He’s never interacted in those times, just lurked and scrolled for a few minutes before he came across a corny meme or a factually incorrect post that looks like it was screenshotted a million times and had to exit.

He was extra bored tonight, though. Peter tried not to think about how quiet it was now that he lived in his own apartment. Aunt May had moved in with her boyfriend after Peter graduated and landed a job at Oscorp. It came with a starting bonus and a large paycheck that allowed Peter to live comfortably on his own while he worked in the R & D department. A compromise made with Norman Osborn instead of selling him the rights to the web fluid he created in college. Peter wanted to continue to develop it front and center; find every possible application for it. So much so, that he didn’t get to go out much. Ned was in DC at his NASA internship, living out his “guy in a chair” dreams. MJ was somewhere in Asia, backpacking with her girlfriend. The friends he made at Columbia went their separate ways.

So this was his life now. Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep. Alone.

After getting home from work around 6 pm, Peter went for an hour long run, ate dinner, and showered. 8 pm found him sitting on his living room sofa, flipping aimlessly between different streaming services unable to find anything interesting to watch. He went through Instagram, Twitter, and even Tumblr a few times before the last “you’re all caught up!” notification popped up on his phone. So, with a heavy sigh, he propped two pillows against the wall for him to lean on, flopped down on his bed, and opened Facebook.

The first post Peter saw was a life event update from Flash Thompson, his high school nuisance, (“bully” would be giving him too much credit) “In a Relationship with Brad Davis”. Peter huffed out a breath, not really surprised with how much Flash used to tease him about being openly bisexual. Penis Parker. How original.

A memory appeared at the top of his feed from 7 years ago, today. It was a picture of him and Ned when they finished building his Lego Death Star. Peter smiled at that, Ned was holding it above his head with a beaming smile plastered on his face. His younger self had both scrawny arms thrown in the air looking triumphant as ever, curls unruly, and rectangular metal glasses falling halfway down his nose.

Peter was glad he filled out a bit since he was 15 and traded in wearing glasses daily for contacts. His curls were still nice and floppy, the tips of them tickling his ears, but he liked it that way. Plus, he could tame them when he wanted to.

He scrolled for a while longer, watched a few videos of cats being adorable assholes and one-pot recipes, went on Marketplace to see what people in his area were selling. He even went through his old pictures and deleted the incredibly embarrassing ones, and updated his profile picture to his most recent selfie.

This Facebook arc was coming to a quick end, he could feel the boredom seeping back in. He looked to his right, the bright red digital numbers on his clock read 10:05 pm. Good enough. He can turn in for the night without feeling inept.

Thumb poised, ready to swipe the App closed, his eyes caught on a name in the “People You May Know” section. Tony Stark. As in, Mr. Stark, his Sophomore Chemistry teacher. AKA his most inappropriate high school crush. Despite being alone, Peter could feel the tips of his ears heat up.

Wow, he hadn’t thought of Mr. Stark in years.

Alright, that’s not true. Peter thinks about him every time he wonders why he has an affinity for older men. Besides the point, he’s taken back to Midtown, sitting front row, head balanced on his palm watching dreamily as Mr. Stark explained how atoms and molecules join together through ionic and covalent bonding (which Peter already knew, so it was fine that he was zoning out). The man’s voice was like honey, words oozing smooth and sweet, rumbling deeply in his chest. Peter remembers every time he caught his eye while he scanned the room during lectures. Mr. Stark was 30 then, it was his first year teaching, and a 15 year age gap seemed like a canyon.

Peter tapped on his name to go to his profile so he can get a better look at his picture. His heart was racing, despite a few sporadic grey hairs at his temples, some crows feet wrinkling at the corner of his eyes, and deeper smile lines, he looked the absolute same. Fucking hot. If anything, all those things made him look even sexier. Licking his lips, Peter tried to go through his profile to see more photos of the man, unfortunately he had a lot of his privacy settings on so there wasn’t much to see but his last profile picture update and location. He still lived in New York, so that was a plus, but Peter wanted - needed to see more.

His thumb hovered over the Add Friend button. It wouldn’t be weird, would it? He was Facebook friends with other teachers from Midtown. He graduated over four years ago, and he wasn’t a lovesick kid with a school boy crush anymore. Fuck it, right? The worst he can do is deny the friend request.

Tap.

“Add Friend” turned into “Cancel Request”, and Peter blew out a large breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Alright, Peter. Time to turn in. He said to himself as he threw his phone onto his bed and got up to brush his teeth. No use waiting around, he wasn’t going to accept it tonight or any time soon for that matter. When he got back from the bathroom, he didn’t even bother looking at his phone. He plugged it in, placed it face down on his nightstand, and drifted off to sleep.

A few minutes later, the man’s phone lit up with a Facebook notification, unbeknownst to a slumbering Peter Parker.

Tony’s daily routine had been rather monotonous lately, to say the least. Since he’d made his way up the proverbial ladder of life and moved on from being a teacher to becoming a senior engineer at a major tech conglomerate, you’d think his day-to-day life of overseeing technical advancement projects wouldn’t be so boring.

The paycheck was substantially bigger than when he was a high school teacher and the amount of technology he had access to was more than the idle body walking the street could ever dream of, but…he missed teaching. He missed the kids. The pure unadulterated joy they displayed whenever Tony praised them on their science projects. He watched over brilliant men and women every day but nothing compared to the ambition of those kids.

Tony often found himself dreading going to work each day, and coming home to an empty house and take-out food his fiancée left for him that night.

Pepper was a great woman. Fierce and reliable. She was there when Tony’s parents died. She even stuck through all the years of Tony trying to decide what he wanted to do with his life. So, naturally, Tony proposed to her when he graduated from college. As a “thank you” and as a promise. That once he had enough money he would make an honest woman out of her. Of course, she already was an honest woman. It was Tony who needed the support, she was all he had left besides Rhodey, but he decided to join the Air Force and shipped off right after graduation. Tony sees him every couple of months, if even that.

She has had all these years to focus on her own career as well while Tony worked menial jobs and then became a teacher. When Tony finally got the Mechanical Engineer job, she was so relieved to not have to be the only one taking care of the bills. Though she never said it, Tony knew. Pepper is the head of HR at Oscorp as well as Norman Osborn’s personal assistant. Operating at the same routine for seven years now and she doesn’t seem to be bored, but that’s Pepper - reliable.

It’s been nine years since Tony asked her to marry him, and he’s been financially capable of paying for an adequate wedding for two of them. The truth is, Pepper has become a part of the monotony that Tony is so tired of.

Tony opened the door to their apartment, the main hall light illuminating the dark wood flooring and the entry table he tossed his keys down on. Toeing off his shoes, he could already smell the Thai food Pepper had eaten and left for him. He flipped the lights on and made his way to the kitchen, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first two buttons in the process. Rounding the large white marble island at the center, Tony reached into the bottom cabinet, pulled out a bottle of scotch, and poured himself a finger before throwing the left-overs in the microwave to heat up.

A little white card with Pepper’s uniform handwriting sat on the table next to the take-out bag: Emergency at work. Don’t wait up. Love you, Pep x. Tony took a sip of his drink, unaffected, it’s been happening more as of late with Oscorp’s new launch around the corner.

“JARVIS, could ya turn on the TV for me? Oh, and heat up my food.” Tony spoke into the open space. He’d been working on his own Artificial Intelligence software in his spare time and recently implemented it-him into their apartment’s security and electrical. Pepper was wary at first, seeing Tony put up cameras in every single room. Even the bathroom, Tony? He assured her that it was unhackable, bet it on his life.

“Certainly, sir.” A disembodied british voice replied. Sure enough, the TV powered on and the microwave came to life.

“Thanks, J.” Tony would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of himself. He’d been drawing up the specs for JARVIS since he was in high school, now he finally had the means to develop him.

When the microwave turned off, Tony gathered up his plate and went to sit on the black leather sectional in the living room. Shoveling a mouth full of pad thai with his chopsticks, he kicked up his feet to rest them on the ottoman in front of him. He very well knows he could just pull out his phone and look, but he wanted to give JARVIS a little workout.

“Got anything new for me?”

“An email from Mr. Justin Hammer about a job offer, would you like me to read it aloud to you, sir?” Tony waved his hand dismissively with a sour expression. Justin Hammer, a sad excuse for a tech mogul, cutting corners for a bigger pay off.

“Delete it, will ya?”

As Tony scrapes the rest of his plate clean, he rises off the couch and stretches his arms and body. The pain in his lower back calls for a hot shower to soothe his aching muscles. Earlier today he’d been bent over his lab table working on an advanced prosthesis that can form to any amputee with ease and give them full range of motion like it was theirs, not just a placeholder. He was grateful his employer seemed to actually care about the greater good.

Tony went to pour himself another finger before retreating to the bedroom to take that shower his body was craving. He undressed slowly, watching himself in the full length mirror opposite the foot of his California King bed. The tie went first, falling lightly to the carpeted floor. He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and tossed it in the laundry basket along with his slacks. Olive skin pulled taut against the small yet defined muscles of his stomach, chest, and arms littered with various burns and scars from working with robotics and chemicals.

Tony definitely wasn’t 21 anymore but he knew he looked good for 37. He could only thank his genes for that and the still full head of hair despite his greying temples that he never bothered to dye.

“JARVIS, shower?” He heard the water splash against the tile of the shower floor and waited until he could see the steam bellow out into the hall to down the rest of his glass and make his way to the bathroom.

The hot spray connecting with his cool skin made him jump a little until he got used to the heat enough to relax. The buzz he was feeling from the scotch aiding the water in loosening his muscles. After washing his hair, Tony decided to stand beneath the spray for a while longer, reveling in the gentle caress of the water.

He then grabbed his mesh loofah ball, poured some body wash on it, and started scrubbing his body. Washing away the trials and tribulations of the day, along with some oil and grease. He worked over his arms, chest, and back. Bent over to wash his legs and feet, then dragged the loofah over his ass and stomach before he lightly grazed his cock, making it twitch in response.

God, he was so wound up, he and Pepper hadn’t had sex in over two months. Always so busy, always just missing each other. When they did happen to be home at the same time, they were too tired to do anything.

He wrapped a soapy hand around his shaft and stroked lazily to work himself to full hardness, which didn’t take very long. Tony tried thinking about Pepper but he couldn’t quite imagine her face and her body, the scotch must be making his mind hazy. He chuckled softly at the thought, not even believing it himself.

Searching through his brain for something to get him there, Tony grunted in annoyance that nothing was coming to him.

He thought harder, until a body started to form in his mind. Smooth pale skin over a lithe, hard body. The V at the bottom of the abdomen pointing to a skinny dick with a pretty pink head. Tony had a fondness toward pretty twinks in college, the one he was imagining mirrored the ones he fucked before he met Pepper.

His hand began stroking faster as his thoughts got more detailed. In his mind, he stretched the young man open with his fingers before seating his newly opened hole on Tony’s larger, thicker cock. He braced himself with one arm against the shower wall while his other hand tightened around his shaft. Hunched over, eyes closed, he saw a pert little ass bouncing up and down, swallowing every inch of him. He moaned loudly, keenly aware that he was home alone, imagining high whimpers and whines thrumming in his ears as the boy in his mind came. Tony came in spurts down the drain soon after with a choked off groan.

Rinsing himself again, he got out of the shower, quickly toweled off his body and hair before wrapping it around his waist and making his way out into the bedroom once again. His body definitely felt looser than it had been when he arrived home from work. Pulling out another of the same bottle of scotch from the small bar cart he had in his room, he poured himself another drink.

“Have a good shower, sir?” If Tony didn’t know any better, he’d think JARVIS was taunting him.

Tony scowled and raised an eyebrow at the ceiling.

“I don’t remember programming you to be nosy.” He mumbled under his breath.

“Actually, sir. You designed me to do exactly that.”

“Or to give me lip.” No response.

“You did receive a new notification in your absence. Would you like to know what it is?” He took a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, sure.”

“You received a Facebook friend request from a Mr. Peter Parker.”

Peter Parker? Why did that seem familiar?

“Throw it up on the screen for me, J.” The flatscreen lit up, displaying Peter’s profile.

The first thing Tony noticed was the sharp, angular jawline coupled with high cheekbones. A stark contrast to the delicate chestnut curls pushed back into a nice cowlick wave. His smile was bright, pure, and genuine, like the photo had been snapped right as he finished laughing.

It wasn’t until Tony looked at his eyes did he realize who this was. The soft brown eyes were identical to a lanky teenage boy that sat in the front row of his Chemistry class when he taught at Midtown High. Even behind his wiry glasses back then, Tony could tell that his eyes radiated a wholesome energy - just like they did now. That had been...what? Seven years ago? Peter was one of his most brilliant students. Hardly paid attention in class but knew the material like the back of his hand.

Tony almost felt guilty about finding him attractive. Almost.

He accepted the request without another thought. Peter would be 22 by now, nothing weird about that, right? He scrolled through his basic info. Still lives in New York. Graduated from Columbia. Single. Interested in men and women. He doesn’t ever really post anything, then again neither did Tony. The only things on his page were happy birthday posts and tagged photos from his Aunt May. Tony remembered parent/teacher conferences with her, he guessed being smokin’ hot ran in the family.

Tony couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about potentially lusting over this kid. He’d always been faithful to Pepper, but something was missing. Tony craved excitement and some inkling of control over his life. Besides, he could look, as long as he didn’t touch. This is just a Facebook friendship after all.

He pulled the Facebook app up on his phone and tapped on the “Message” icon. When the screen pulled up the chat box, Tony gulped down the rest of his scotch, feeling just on the right side of drunk, and typed out two words.

Hey, Kid.

tags: @sweetqueen449, @slut-for-starker, @dim-ships-johnlock, @starkerhowlter, @sthefystarkersworld, @crazycocococonut, @bris-sins, @delicateavenuenacho, @problemchildnoonewanted (I’ll def be implementing some of your points in future chapters!)

#starker #starker fic #starker au #teacher/student #tony stark x peter parker #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #ironspider #sluttystark stuff

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possum-rat · 3 years

Text

King ophelia

is this nearly 2 months late? yes yes it is.

@king-ophelia

“If i die im totally haunting your ass”

(Y/n) x C!Sam Platonic

______________

Mentions of: death, blood,tommy’s prison arc

There had always been a close Mentor and Student type of bond Between a certain droopy elf-eared green-tinted skinned man and a young kid around the age of 15-16? Some might even say that it was closer, more Father and child-like. So naturally when Awesamdude began distancing himself from everyone while making the prison (Y/n) felt a mixture of anger and slightly guilt. Guilt because it wasn't Sam’s duty to take care of them. Sam had simply shown them Human kindness, and (Y/n) not having many good encounters with people had clutched to the praise that Sam had given on the regular. (Y/n) had only felt angrier and angrier as time passed. Especially when Ponk had stumbled into their small dark oak cottage on the outskirts of what was Pogtopia. His red yellow and black mask burned beyond repair and holding what was left of his arm. Leaping up from the small couch situated in the middle of the small one-floor house (Y/n) turns their attention to Ponk. As they work feverishly whispering that it’ll be okay more to themselves than anything else. That day they realize that the Man that they had admired so much and had tried to please didn't care. ------ “Sam? I made something look!” (Y/n) says happily as they pull the prosthetic arm they had been working on for Ponk. “I'm busy (Y/n), Tommy needs help with something,” Sam states as he brushes past (Y/n) without a thought. “Of course. It’s always Tommy and tubbo this. Why don't you have a second of time for me?” (Y/n) mumbles dejectedly. Shoving the arm back into their bag they grumble annoyed. Eventually, they bump into Foolish. “(Y/n)! Didn't see you there! How are you?” he asks cheerfully crouching into a squat. “I made something for Ponk. I tried showing Sam but he was busy. As always.” They say quietly while fiddling with the hem of the bag. Foolish’s emerald eyes widen in interest. “You did? Can I see?” Nervously they pull a wooden base of an arm armor of the bag before turning their attention to Foolish, (Y/n) smiles shyly up at the man before gently placing the arm in his huge calloused hands. Foolish sits on the ground in front of (Y/n) and turns the arm silently, his jade eyes staring intently at the arm that’s a quarter -if that -the size of his hand. Growing more nervous and agitated at the lack of response (Y/n) a close mentor-student type of bond between Sam and (Y/n). If you were to look closer it might be called a Father/child type of bond. Maybe even Found Family. Always ever since (Y/n) had been younger. (Y/n) had always looked up to him, always trying to be just like him. Horror was the least they felt when Ponk- stumbled into (Y/n’s) small cottage. His arm was bloody in his other arm. His mask torn in places, his hood pulled up pasted his face. To cover the deep cuts. Dropping the book they had been reading: The Book thief, on the couch they spring up and run toward Ponk one line still ringing in their head. “I guess humans like to watch a little destruction. Sand castles, houses of cards, that's where they begin. Their great skill is their capacity to escalate.” The meaning of those words smacks (Y/n) like a truck. Just like how Sam had destroyed (Y/n’s) view on the world, Ruining the one last thing that kept (Y/n’s) view of the parental figure like a parent. It didn't help that (Y/n) was the youngest in the vast land of DreamSmp. Being 12 when they lost their first life jumping in front of Technoblade's fireworks that Schlatt had ordered him to fire at Tubbo. And 13 when they had lost their second life to a forest fire that Niki had started. Niki had apologized of course, but techno. You know how he is. ---- It had been a few weeks after Ponk’s visit, and (Y/n) had been wandering around looking for Sam for some input. Eventually finding him they tap his shoulder and present the Wood and golden ornate hand they had been making during the past 2 weeks. “Sam! Look!” They state excitedly. As they hold out the arm. “That's nice (Y/n). But I'm busy. I need to help Tommy with his hotel.” Sam says as he shrugs (Y/n) off brushing past them. Nodding slowly (Y/n) stands on the prime path before turning and shoving the arm into their bag before walking down the prime path with no particular idea. “Oh- sorry I didn't see you there-” A tall man with bright observant jade green eyes and golden shining olive skin gazes down wearing Egyptian royalty wear with gold, and emerald stitching along the hems of the shendyt. Shifting down he smiles down at (Y/n) his gold ornately patterned Wesekh with lapis emerald and Netherite hangs off his chest while he grins happily. Sharp shark-like teeth gleaming. “(Y/n) right?” he asks as he offers out a huge hand. “Y-Yeah. You're Foolish right?” the man nods causing (Y/n) to breath in deeply the scent of pine filling their nose. (Y/n) gazes at the ground while Foolish asks “May I see the arm you tried showing Sam?” nervously (Y/n) obliges. As Foolish sits on the ground examining the minuscule arm (Y/n) grows agitated at the lack of negative response- well any response. “Sorry- I know. It's stupid and it won't work-” they mutter quietly. “No, no-no. that’s not it at all. Im amazed at the level of detail on the fingers and the knuckles (Y/n).” --------- “Tommy? I can give a note to Dream so you don't have to see him.” (Y/n) states with an undertone of wanting to prove themselves. “No- You're too young-” he begins. “No.” They interrupt loudly. Tommy raises an eyebrow. (Y/n) never really questioned anybody's judgment, they merely followed without question. “I- uh. I want to help. Please.” they continue their voice growing quieter as the sudden jolt of courage dissolves into fear of rejection. Tommy nods a small smile on his face. “Sure. Only if you pinky promise you’ll be safe okay?” ------ As they reach the prison, the anger they had repressed for months begins bubbling up. In addition to anxiety. (Y/n) hadn't really interacted with Dream much. Only briefly when he needed somewhere to hide. And foolishly (Y/n) had let him. As they reach the other end of the portal Sam doesn't look up from the desk he’s sitting at. “Tommy. Kid. I have something for you to sign.” he says tiredly. As he places a book in front of (Y/n). “Read that out loud.” (Y/n) feels a twinge of anger at the nickname Sam had given Tommy. Sam had never taken the time to do that for (Y/n). Taking a deep breath they begin. “Page 1 I HEREBY ASSUME ALL OF THE RISKS OF VISITING THE HOLDING CELL, including by way of example and not limitation, any risks that may arise from negligence or carelessness on the part of the Prison guards, prisoners misbehaving, from dangerous or defective equipment” (Y/n) read haltingly and slowly sounding out negligence. Sam suddenly glances up and sighs “(Y/n) why are you here. Tommy said he’d be here.” ignoring what sam had asked they continue rambling

“Page 2 or property owned, maintained, or controlled by the Prison Guards. I certify that I waive, release, and discharge the Prison from any and all liability, including but not limited to, death, disability, personal injury, property damage,” they glare at Sam and murmur “you did that to ponk. You hurt him.” they take another breath before continuing:

Page 3 property theft, or actions of any kind which may hereafter occur to me, including my traveling to and from visiting the Prisoner. Written name, then sign: (Y/n)” They sign it and slide the book toward Sam. “(Y/n). Why are you here.” they scoff annoyed and reply “Why else? I'm visiting Dream. I'm telling him something Tommy wanted me to say.” ------------- As (Y/n) reaches the platform they turn toward Sam and state. “Sam. If I die. Then I’m totally haunting your ass.” Sam sighs and retorts “You're not going to die. And stop talking. Face forward.” Nodding (Y/n) turns forward tears forming in their eyes. Gazing up at the ceiling (Y/n) lifts a hand pressing it against their eyes while mentally shouting at themself to not cry. Being in prison wasn't as bad as they thought. Dream seemed nice enough, so he made conversation. “So (Y/n) have you made anything new? I’ve heard that you like making things.” Dream says as he leans against the wall his tone curious. (Y/n) jumps at the opportunity of having someone showing genuine interest in what they enjoy. “Well- I’ve started reading Norse Myths. Those are cool- I also really like- I like uh building things. Like a few weeks ago I made a fake arm for ponk cuz Sam ripped him off.” They state excitedly. Dream nods his mask contorting into a small smile. “Wait-” Dream pauses his mask’s eyebrows contorting into a frown “Did you say Sam ripped off Ponks arm?” (Y/n) freezes the hairs on the back of their neck suddenly standing on end. They laugh awkwardly, alarms blaring internally “What- nooo that's preposterous. Why would Sam do that? I mean Sam loves Ponk.” they blabber nervously as they fiddle with their hands nervously. Suddenly there’s an ear-splitting boom. Causing (Y/n) to freeze in place. ------ About a week has passed since (Y/n) got trapped in the prison. (Y/n) eventually grew more nervous and twitchy whenever Dream so much as looked at them. On the 4th day, they had gotten a cat. (Y/n) had named the calico “Fat Ass” as he was one of the Fattest cats (Y/n) had seen. On the 8th day or so (Y/n) had been trapped Fat Ass had seemed to have enough with everything and committed unalive by walking into the lava. (Y/n) would never forget his pitiful yowls as he burned alive. The ninth day (Y/n) began growing desperate Screaming at the lava for hours on end until their throat grew dry or Dream had yanked them up and tossed them across the small room. As he yelled “(Y/N) SAM DOESN'T CARE. HE’S GOING TO LEAVE YOU HERE TO FUCKING ROT. WHY WON'T THAT GET THROUGH YOUR FUCKING HEAD.” (Y/n) grew silent at that. Playing with the orangy drawstrings of their hoodie. “Okay.” (Y/n) whispers in defeat. “You win. Just stop yelling at me please.” Dream scoffs bending closer to (Y/n) grabbing the collar of their Hoodie. “(Y/n). You're pathetic. I could kill you right now and revive you because I'm bored. I could do that for hours and Sam wouldn't move a damned muscle.” (Y/n’s) (e/c) eyes widen in fear as they whisper “Your lying.” gulping they rasp “You wouldn't. You don't have it in you-” Dream grins. “(Y/n), I’m a GOD.” He Lifts a clenched fist before sending it into their gut. “I can do this as much as I want and you can't do anything about it.” He sends blow after blow. And as he bends closer to (Y/n). They take the chance and grip his ears tightly. Before screaming as loud as they could. “SAM-” As Dream sends another punch to their gut (Y/n) pulls down hard on the ear. Dream squeezes his hands around (Y/n’s) throat. “SAM PLEASE HELP. DAD-” they wail as they kick trying to escape Dream’s grasp as air begins to be a long-lost luxury. “Aw- Are you calling for daddy? He won't come (Y/n). He’s busy.” Those last words are the final words (Y/n) here before everything doubles and shifts into kaleidoscopic colors and shapes, and they take one last half-hearted breath.

(Y/n) wakes up in a calm place. Everything is so...peaceful...weirdly so. As they spin in a circle they see a playground. The cool midnight breeze ruffling (Y/n’s) hair as they skip toward the structure. Not thinking twice (Y/n) sits on one of the swings and begins to kick off. The rocking mixed with the cool breeze of the night and footsteps- wait why were their footsteps… Jumping from the swing at the top of its arch (Y/n) comes crashing down to earth. Wincing at the feeling of their body slamming against the ground. “Hello?” (Y/n) asks quietly. “Dear? Oh my- oh you were so young- Come here let’s have a little chat you and i.” a feminine voice says. (Y/n) tenses up and replies “Can- Could I stay here? On the swings I mean? I- I don't really know- I’m a little scared here- Where am-” the feminine figure comes into sight wearing a flattering simple black dress that throws her elegant features into greater depth. “Oh Honey, Do whatever makes you comfortable okay? You're in well that's hard to explain. But to put it simply, you're dead. I guess this Empty park is yours- what did My husband's son call it? Limbo? You're stuck here while we talk.” (Y/n) freezes tears forming as they sit in front of the woman. “No- I cant- Sam saved- I’m just- I'm dreaming right?” they whimper as they clutch the soft material of their sweatshirt. “Sam- He was- He saved me and I'm just having a nightmare.” (Y/n) whispers to themselves as they rock back and forth. “Here Honey let me help you. You have a bad cut and I don't want it to get infected.” (Y/n) nods slowly and as the gentle touch of the woman’s hand grazes their cheek (Y/n) jerks awake with a start. ------------------------- There had been an alarm. Luckily Sam had been in the prison at the time. As the automated voice says calmly “The Prisoner is displaying violent acts toward the visitor.” Sam’s blood runs cold. “(Y/n)” he gasps as he sprints through a special tunnel he had created in case of an event like this. As he waits for the lava to drain he regrets ignoring (Y/n). As the lava finally drains he can see Dream leaning against a wall, a hand covering his left ear as bloodstains it. While (Y/n) seems to be asleep at his feet. That doesn't help his fears. “Dream. What the hell did you do?” Sam asks quietly as he reaches the halfway point of his destination. Dream turns slowly before reaching down to (Y/n’s) head and turning it where it’s on full display for Sam to see. Bloody, and 2 giant purple hands print upon their throat. Sam Backs up disgust filling his brain. “They wouldn't stop yelling for you. I got annoyed.” dream states simply. Sam backs away in disgust as he crouches down and hoists (Y/n) up. “Sam- D’you know they kept begging for mercy. They shouted and I quote“Sam Please help. Dad” Dream’s tone is mocking as he stretches. “Obviously you failed them as a parent. When they first came in they were so eager to have someone listen to them for once instead of being bossed around.” Dream laughs. “They tried so hard to make you happy or to be proud of them. (Y/n) felt so neglected that they were genuinely excited when me- a prisoner showed interest. That says a lot about them doesn't it Sam.” Sam stares at the floor, his heart beating faster and faster. “Sam- I heard what they said to you before they came in here.” As Sam steps back onto the floating bridge he set’s (Y/n’s) body down and backs up his hands rubbing his face as the Lava begins to return to place. Sam leans on the wall a few feet from the lava covering the entrance of Dream’s holding cell. ----- Phantom(N/n). That's the only thing the ghost remembers. The only name apart from Awesamdude. Phantom(N/N) is pretty sure that Awesamdude isn't their name. Standing in a small purplish room, where two unfamiliar men stand one cowering under another man with a scar running down his face making his eye white. Tensing up Phantom(N/n) backs up and crutches into a small ball trying to stay out of view. But they were spotted. The man with the scar crutches in front of Phantom(N/n) and smiles offering out a reddish hand. Phantom(N/n) gazes up at him before taking it nervously and avoiding the gaze of the man wearing green while Alive(Y/n)’s voice murmurs to stay away from Dream. The man with the scar has warm hands Phantom(N/n) notices. Glancing up Phantom(N/n) smiles up at the man, as he gently guides the two of them across the bridge. As they reach the other end Phantom(N/n) lets go of the man's hand, noticing then that he has Light brownish feathers coming from the side of his head along with wings coming from his back with dark shiny greens and other colors. “(Y/n)?” he asks as he places his hands on each side of their shoulders. Phantom(N/n) frowns before saying “Oh you're talking about Alive(Y/n), I’m Phantom(N/n)” they smile up at him taking in his injury. Gently raising their hand Phantom(N/n) places a finger on the man’s cheek while frowning. “Does it hurt?” Phantom(N/n) asks their head tilting in concern. Phantom(N/n) removes their hand from his slightly rough scar before turning when a set of footsteps grow louder. As they turn Phantom(N/n) fiddles with the orange drawstrings while they gaze at the shiny slightly refective Blackstone floor. Lowering themself Phantom(N/n) sits on the floor tracing the cool stone tile as the two people talk in hushed hurried tones. Before the man with duck-like feathers suddenly erupts “SAM- THIS IS A CHANCE FOR YOU TO TRY TO REPAIR YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH (Y/N).” The other man Sam retorts his voice shaking “Quackity. (Y/n’s) dea-” Phantom(N/n) looks up at those words. As their eyes meet Sam’s they flick their gaze back to the floor. “I’m not (Y/n). I’m Phantom(N/n).” Phantom(N/n) murmurs quietly while Quackity and Sam continue to argue. As their shouting becomes louder and louder Phantom(N/n) stands up and tries to find an exit. Finding a passageway probably for employees Phantom(N/n) walks through pressing a hand to the wall as they skip through the cold narrow halls. The cool rush of air a pleasant change in contrast to the hot sticky-stale air of the prison cell. The yelling growing fainter Phantom(N/n) feels a breath of air go. On they didn't realize they were holding in. Reaching into their pocket Phantom(N/n) pulls out a soft Bunny. One with orange wool, and a small carrot attached with a thin string. Holding it in their hands Phantom(N/n) stares at it a small smile spreading on their face. An expression of confusion replaces the small smile before the grin returns.“ You’ll be...uh...Your...Pluto. Yeah, you’ll be Pluto.” One of pluto’s shiny black eyes catches the light of something and Phantom(N/n) stiffens as they gaze forward. Slowly turning around Sam stands their Axe in hand. Tensing up Phantom(N/n) says with a huff.“That’s not nice. You shouldn’t point pointy sharp things at people. Someone could get hurt.” Sam frowns before crouching infront of Phantom(N/n) and placing the axe somewhere in his inventory. Smiling in approval Phantom(N/n) shrugs their jacket higher on their shoulder before jumping toward Sam. “Who are the rings for? You and Mr.Quackity both had 2 each. Are you married to two people? Do I get 2 more dads?” The questions roll of Phantom(N/n’s) tongue fast. Sam stands up resting Phantom(N/n) on his hip his left arm securing them to his body. Sam hesitates before nodding. “Yeah.- yeah you do. Do you want to meet them?” the two people walk through the same hall that Phantom(N/n) had walked through. “Mr.Quackity? Who are you married to? Isn’t it the man with the swirly pattern and the other man with the headband?” Quackity nods slowly before muttering. “Something like that. They forgot about me.” Phantom(N/n) doesn't seem to like this information. Squirming in Sam’s grasp Sam gently places them down before they grab Quackity’s hand and smiling up at him “Well We’ll go make them unforget! Come one!” They state firmly as if there were no room for criticism.

#Poss angst #awesamdude #(Y/n) x awesamdude #Platonic #Quackity #Dream smp #ponk x foolish x sam #karlnapity #Dream #tommyinnit

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