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little-mouse-gardens · 2 years

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Fictober "adaptable, i like that"

Fanfiction - journey to the west by Wu Cheng'en, monkie kid

Oc - Chuntao

Note - based on a chapter in my fic, The great beasts

@fictober-eventPrompt - “adaptable, I like that”

“Hey! Are you making food up in that tree?”

Chuntao looked down from the bottom of the tree.

Her greenish brown eyes Making out a familiar golden furred demon monkey looking up at her all the way at the base of the tree with a curious yet confused look on his face

“Umh pretty much, your majesty” she called back down, taking care not to dump the bowl of fruits or let any of the monkeys that had followed her up there attempt to steal any of the fruit

“I got a bit hungry when i was exploring the mountain..so i just climbed up this peach tree and asked a couple of the of your monkeys to bring some supplies so i could make myself something a snack”

‘Adaptable’ wukong thought, a smile appearing on his face as leaped up into the tree to sit on the branch beside her ‘i like that’

The great sun wukong was quite curious about the three half demons that had been living on his mountain and his kingdom while they had been away on a journey for a few months.

When He and his starwalt generals, lieur, ba, ma and beng, they all found that none of the other monkeys had come to welcome them on the shoreline.

after being away for so long, they expected to meet the others on the shore. Smiles and cries of joy echoing through the mountain as they reunited.

However, they were met by a lonely beach and no sign of the monkeys anywhere.

At first they began to panic, believing that the monkeys were captured by demons or hunters in their absence

However, his friend and one of his generals, Liu er mihou, heard the monkeys cheering and celebrating in the water curtain cave in the main dining hall. Which sent all four demons running up the mountain to greet them.

when they arrived at the waterfall the guards appointed at the bridge had been given completely new armor and weapons that all four monkey demons knew couldn’t be made on the mountain without specific supplies outside of their home.

so, they knew someone had been here or was still here on the mountain

Then, when they made their way inside, all four demons were shocked to see three female half demons sitting in their dining hall.

They were seated at the end of the long table in their chairs drinking wine and dining with all of the monkeys.

The three women were Laughing, talking and dining with the monkeys as if they had known them for years.

One was dressed in fine lavender robes and armor, one was dressed in scholar's robes that depicted the ocean and one was dressed in robes of pinks, peaches and greens.

Of course, the ever impulsive sun wukong was the first one to confront them, however he was surprised that the three half demons did not wish to seek a fight with him over the right to his mountain.

They only defended themselves and wished to talk peacefully.

They eventually sat down and calmly explained to him and his generals that they had been protecting the monkeys and the mountain in their absence and that they meant no disrespect.

Sun wukong accepted this and thanked the sisters for their services, offering to give them something in exchange.

In exchange the women only asked him if they could continue living on the mountain.

he allowed it on the condition they would continue their services under him. They hesitantly agreed and after a few more negotiations, the three women had moved onto the mountain.

Despite an entire two weeks of living on flower fruit mountain and working around him constantly, Wukong hadn’t really gotten to know them.

He only knew their names, their abilities and their clan. but Their personalities and their complete honesty intrigued him.

So, he became naturally curious about them

especially Chuntao

She was the first between her two sisters to match his energy. She was confident and bold yet nurturing and sweet. Despite the rumors of his mischief, powers, what insulting him would cause, she wasn’t afraid of him.

she showed him no fear

When he tried to annoy her by preventing her from leaving one early morning, She looked him dead in the eyes and swatted the staff out of her way as if it were nothing but a bug.

Rolling her eyes and telling him that his ruyi Jingū bang did not frighten her and that if his majesty wanted his breakfast, his games would have to wait.

she then smiled and walked out of the door.

Leaving the monkey in the doorway of her room surprised, mildly agitated but mostly even more perplexed.

So, the determined monkey king made it his mission to know everything about her. To discover why she did not fear him like other demons.

so, he spent the whole week observing her and asking her questions. about her family, her powers, why she stayed on the moutain after her and her sisters rescued the monkeys.

anything he could to get to know her

Chuntao paused from chopping up the peaches when she felt someone's eyes on her, turning over to look at Wukong and trying to read his face to see what he wanted from her.

“So” he said, grabbing a peach slice from the bowl “you like to cook?”

Chuntao was a bit surprised at the question. Figuring that the demon would come up here to just dig in on the peaches and ask her the same questions

which didn’t really bother her, but she was pleasantly surprised by his interest in getting to know her more.

“Yeah” she replied, smiling as she handed him a small bowl of honey covered peaches.

“It is my passion. It's something that brings joy…it was also something my… father did a lot…according to my mother”

Chuntaos' look seemed to shift. A mix of pain and longing on her face before it quickly shifted back to warm and cheerful

“Anyways! It's one of my favorite things to do, if you couldn’t already tell by my sleeves' ' she laughed awkwardly, bringing up the small splotches of color faded into the fabric of her flower-patterned sleeves.

Wukong just silently listened to her talk about her passions. Cooking, gardening, painting. He listened carefully to all of it.

With each sentence. The monkey king realized there was more to the half demon that met the eye.

Yes she was confident and bold, but she too had fears of her own. Fears she had to force down in order to keep her other two sisters from worrying about her.

Yes, she was sweet and nurturing, but even she could get furious and vengeful sometimes. Fury that she forced herself to repress because she didn't want to be seen as a monster.

A nurturing young woman with a mischievous spirit and brave soul

Which Sun wukong respected and liked about her. She was honest, kind, confident in her decisions, yet vulnerable.

Slowly, as the conversation shifted to his own interests, Wukong saw her less as a stranger but as someone he could trust.

She didn’t get scared when he told her about his bloody battles. She didn’t judge him for his mischief, even wishing she could have witnessed some of his shenanigans.

For hours they laughed and joked. And wukong really began to take a liking to her.

She was Someone who listened. Someone who actually liked the same things he liked.

For once, a stranger who didn’t really see him as someone to fear, but rather someone they could just relax and have fun with.

On the opposite end, Chuntao genuinely likes his personality. Impulsiveness and all. In all her travels she had never met another demon who understood the feelings she felt on a daily basis.

So she thanked every one of the gods and immortals above so she could make a friend that she could relate with

“You know…your a pretty good guy sun wukong” chuntao replied, handing over her bowl of honey coated peaches to him with a warm smile “i think i’m gonna enjoy my time here”

The golden furred monkey felt his face begin to heat up when he looked at her soft face. His tail slightly swaying behind him as he accepted the food.

“Thanks... bunny” he replied, a small chuckle leaving him as he dug into the bowl of peaches.

Chuntao was a bit surprised at the nickname, but quickly accepted it. Grabbing a peach from the top of the branches

“No problem… peaches” she laughed, smiling when she saw the face, he gave her at the nickname which was a mixture of Suprise, acceptance, and confusion.

By the time the two came down from the tops of the branches. The monkeys realized their king had a special new friend.

A friend the monkeys suspect would mean much to their king by the way they looked at each other.

all they could do is watch and smile as the pairs hearty laughter echoed through the mountain.

#fictober22 #jttw #the great beasts #fanfiction #writing #writing community #jttw ocs #monkie kid #lmk oc

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jincherie · 3 years

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four’s company | rapline [m]

✘ — pairing: boxer!rapline x male!reader ✘ — genre: smut!, boxer au, poly au ✘ — wc: 6.4k ✘ — rating: 18+ ✘ — warnings: minor injuries (occupational hazard kind), smut: mxm, light (accidental) voyeurism, light hand kink, baby boy reader, sub/bottom reader, dom/top members, foursome, anal sex, protected sex (don’t forget to wrap ‘em, lads and ladies!), fellatio ✘ — notes: part of a fic exchange within the ghostie network, i’m sorry it’s late!!!!! please accept my humblest apologies!!! @bangtanloverboys here you go!! i hope it’s not too shitty!!!

If accidentally walking in on your three crushes in a heated moment, not once, not twice, but thrice isn’t enough to capture their attention, then you don’t know what is. You’re about to find out that you’ve had their attention for a while, though.

— posted; 02.01.2021 || masterlist

For what is far from the first time tonight, you feel the weight of a certain gaze.

Well, to be more specific, it hasn’t just been one gaze you’ve felt on you tonight. More like… three.

You know who they belong to, unfortunately. It’s the same three people that you found in an… interesting situation earlier. On that was, no doubt, not meant for outside eyes.

Well, you say that, but you feel like that’s just because you, yourself, are mortified. To be honest, the three boxers you found locking lips and making out in the locker room didn’t seem to be all that ashamed about it.

In fact, when they caught you in the motion of fleeing, they’d had the audacity to grin about it!

Utterly humiliating. You haven’t been able to bring your gaze anywhere near them all day. To make matters worse, you couldn’t even flee to the safety of your home or anywhere similar, because there is a match tonight and you’re needed as a qualified first aid officer.

Which brings you to the current predicament; sitting ringside and attempting to avoid the gazes of the three boxers seated on the side adjacent. Try as you might, it’s actually a struggle to keep your eyes on the current match. It’s a rookie night, and you feel extra bad since one of the people in the ring is actually a close friend.

Though, perhaps you should demote Jungkook from ‘close friend’ status considering he is the reason you started working here and subsequently, had the opportunity to stumble upon a certain scenario this morning. Were it not for him and his stupid, pleading puppy eyes, you wouldn’t have a particular embarrassing image burned into the back of your eyelids.

You know that despite his rookie status, Jungkook is quite a naturally talented boxer. Perhaps that is part of the reason that your brain thinks it’s okay to let your eyes stray from the match instead of watching attentively as you’re expected to. The subconscious certainty that Jungkook can handle himself seems to be your undoing, because in a moment of inattentiveness your eyes manage to reach the area you’d been trying so hard for them to avoid.

As you’d both feared and expected, they are in fact already looking at you. Well, one of the three. It is the piercing gaze of the club's current lightweight champion, Min Yoongi, that bores a hole into you right now. The two accomplices to his side aren't joining him in drilling their eyes into you across the room for now, instead leaning into each other as though they're whispering amongst themselves.

There's something about Yoongi's eyes, dark and piercing, that seem to always root you in place no matter where you are. His expression, as it usually tends to be, is unreadable. It's a certain kind of neutrality that graces his features, thin enough that you can tell there is something behind it but too opaque for you to be able to discern exactly what.

You don't even realise you're trapped in his gaze until the sounding of the bell snaps you out of the spell that seemed to be cast over you. Your head whips back around and you see the referee signalling the end of the bout, and just beyond him Jungkook is standing slightly bent over as he offers a hand to his opponent on the canvas. To your alarm, it is only now that you notice the blood dribbling down the man’s face. The reasonable crowd that has gathered is still cheering (Jungkook was quick to rise as one of the fan favourites) and it’s a wonder you can hear the referee’s call above the ruckus.

“Medic!”

That’s your cue.

x – x – x

“You look kind of on edge, man. Are you alright?”

You’re almost too busy staring into your coffee in a borderline dissociative state to hear Jungkook as he calls for your attention. It has to be about the thirteenth time in the past half hour, but you can’t find the energy to be ashamed about it. Mostly because all of your shame and embarrassment are focused on other areas right now.

It had happened again.

Is it just your luck? You don’t know whether to dub it as rotten luck, because you feel it would be a bit of an insult to the boxers you’d once more found in a suggestive situation. But considering it good luck feels kind of sleazy, because although you’re embarrassed as hell, all things considered what you walked in on wasn’t a bad view—

No, that thought is stopping there. Any further and you’ll only incriminate yourself and you’ll have to dose yourself with another fresh shot of shame.

Realising that you still haven’t answered the concerned-looking boy sprawled in the chair to your side, you offer him a non-committal grunt. It’s the best you can do while you take another moment to form actual coherent thought.

“I’ve never been better,” you say, and immediately Jungkook lets loose an abrupt snort.

“You look like shit, so don’t bother trying to lie. Are you having trouble sleeping again or something?”

You survey him for a moment, touched that he remembers the insomnia that had ailed you for a few months a while back. “Actually, I’ve been sleeping pretty good the past few months.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, making you squint at him in question. “Oh, I’ll bet you have, considering the things you were saying in your sleep last time I stayed over.”

You simply look at him, wondering whether he’s going to be an ass and continue. You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

“You were all like, ‘nngh, Namjoon,’ and ‘oh, Yoongi’, and then you said something about Hoseok too but I can’t quite remember, probably because it was so x-rated that my poor baby brain banished it from my memory—”

“Jungkook,” you cut him off, gripping the plastic spoon that came with your drink painfully tight. “Shut up.”

This is most definitely not the conversation to be having in the café barely a block away from the boxing gym where the two of you frequent, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to get the hint. Actually, you’re pretty sure he got the hint and he just doesn’t care enough to heed it.

“You really ought to do something about that crush of yours, bro. There’s three of them, so there’s three times the misery if you sit on your ass instead of—”

“Jungkook,” you attempt to warn him again, glaring slightly this time. You’ve scooped some of the whipped cream off of his plate of pancakes and hold the tip of the spoon back, threatening to fling it at him should he keep talking.

“—doing something, you know? I’ve seen them practically undress you with their eyes enough times by now that I could fill out a diary with all the incidents I’ve witnessed. Plus, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how often they ‘hurt’ themselves as an excuse to see you? I really don’t think you have much to lose, especially with an ass like yours—well, it’s nothing like the cake I’m serving, but still, it deserves some praise—ACK!”

Ah, so he has chosen death.

You discard the now-empty spoon onto a napkin, taking a long sip of your drink. It seems Jungkook has engaged his ape brain more today than usual as instead of wiping the cream off his face like any normal human would, he’s attempting to reach it with his tongue. His chances aren’t good, to be honest; though you reckon your mutual friend Jimin would be able to get it from that distance. Dude has a tongue like a lizard.

“You have Seven Days,” you tell him, struggling not to let a smile through as the amateur boxer whines, unable to reach the cream.

“You have seven days,” he grumbles sulkily, reaching with a begrudging hand for a napkin. “Do something or I’ll expose your ass.”

You roll your eyes, ninety-nine percent sure that he’s kidding.

…

That other one percent worries you a bit though.

x – x – x

You take back what you decided earlier— something is definitely wrong with your luck.

“And how did you hurt your knee again?”

“I tripped on the stairs.”

Jung Hoseok, the club’s current star welterweight boxer, sits before you in your little medical office. There aren’t any matches on today, but you’re on shift because the club members are doing some of the more rigorous training; there is an important few matches coming up for a few members, and they all want to be as prepared as possible. As tends to be the occupational hazard, training can often lead to injuries that need to be immediately attended to.

You can’t say, though, that this is the type you were expecting when you rocked up today.

Hoseok is beaming at you, all sincerity and sparkles. There’s a slight bit of dark regrowth in his hair that catches your eye as you survey him, the crimson ends sticking to his forehead lightly from sweat. He looks every bit earnest and honest as he sits in front of you, but you can’t help but suspect him just slightly.

Because you’re not sure any of the club members have ever made their way to your office for a graze that wouldn’t even phase a kindergartener.

“Well,” you say, trying to ignore what Jungkook had said barely a day or two ago that floats back into your head now. “The good news is, it’s not fatal.”

Hoseok lets out a great, dramatic huff in relief. “Oh, thank god. I was so scared this might have been the end.”

‘Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how often they ‘hurt’ themselves as an excuse to see you?’

Is that what this is? An excuse to see you? A look spared for the man before you leads you to conclude: probably not. He’s a little too radiant to be seeking out lil’ ol’ you.

“Not this time,” you say, rummaging through your small box of mismatched bandages. Finding what you’re looking for, you turn back around and begin preparing it to place it on Hoseok’s knee. “You live to see another day.”

Hoseok shifts like he’s about to say something in response, but cuts himself off with a surprised laugh when he sees the band-aid you put on him. “Wh—you have Minions band-aids?!”

“I reserve them for special patients,” you say before you can stop yourself, promptly clamping your mouth shut a little too late. Your cheeks… you just hope the heat gathering there isn’t obvious.

Something shifts in Hoseok’s gaze as he surveys you for a moment, before hopping from the bed, testing his knee out like he’d sprained it instead of scratching it. The look is gone before you can fully decipher it and he’s back to grinning brightly once more.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll have to come back often. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.” Hoseok’s smile adopts a slightly cheeky edge as he makes his way to the door, lifting two fingers to his temple in a lazy salute. “See you later, doc!”

Then he’s gone before you can return the farewell, door closing definitively behind him and leaving the room in silence.

Are you going crazy, or did Hoseok— one of the three boxers you’ve happened to walk in on twice now—just return your light flirting?

… God, you hope it wasn’t because of the minion band-aid.

x – x – x

You wish that visit had been an isolated incident, but you had a repeat of it at least twice a week. Each time Hoseok would rock up grinning at your door with some other minor injury, all but demanding a minion band-aid for his troubles. You gave it to him, of course, but you still hope he doesn’t remember you as the minion band-aids guy.

Surprisingly enough, it isn’t only Hoseok that has been cropping up more often in your day-to-day. You’ve had a few surprise encounters with Yoongi, who lately has taken to giving you a sly, unreadable look before turning away, leaving you in your own confusion. Sometimes you’ll get carried away watching him or one of the other boxers practice, and before you know it he has caught you staring red-handed and you’re forced to flee the room to escape the smug, intrigued look that slips into his eyes.

It’s after such an occasion that you find yourself in the main locker room, attempting to multitask by looking for a box of first aid supplies hidden in the top shelves and giving your face a chance to cool down. It’s taken you so long to even find the damn box that your embarrassment has all but evaporated by now. By the time your eyes lock onto the scuffed white box peeking over the edge of the highest shelf in the corner of the room, you’re more than ready to snatch it down and escape back to the comfort of your dingy little office.

Of course, it couldn’t ever be so easy for you. Not given your recent string of poor luck.

You don’t consider your height to be remarkably anything, and normally you don’t have that much trouble reaching the cookie jar on the top shelf in your apartment but for some reason the shelves in this building are built to cater to giants, and try as you might you simply cannot reach. You’re literally about to abandon the last of your dignity and attempt jumping for it, when there is a light scuff on the floor from behind you and then a firm warmth pressing into your back.

In all honesty, your brain short-circuits. For a second you think you might have even blacked out, because it takes at least three seconds for you to realise what is happening, and by that time the figure has already retreated back from your form.

Somewhat dazed, you turn around to see one Kim Namjoon, the clubs leading middleweight champion and the third and final member of those racy scenarios you happened to walk in on oh-so long ago. In his hands is the box you’d been struggling so much to reach, and on his face is a look that somehow blends sheepishness and amusement into one attractive cocktail on his features.

“Here you go,” he says, and for a shamefully long moment all you can do is stand and soak in the lovely timbre of his voice. By the time you snap out of it, a small smile has begun to curl on his lips. You pointedly avoid looking at the dimples that are beginning to show as a result.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you say, trying to make it as natural as possible as you reach and take the box from his hold. “Whoever put it up there seems to have a vendetta against me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he says, and there’s suddenly something a little secretive about the way he’s smiling. It makes you suspicious, and once more the words Jungkook prattled into your ear a week or so ago come rattling back into your brain.

Is this something similar to what Hoseok had done? Did Namjoon put the box on a higher shelf?

“Are you calling me short?” For some reason, that’s what comes out of your mouth. There is a slight disconnect from what you said and what Namjoon had said previously, but he seems to make the connection. He tilts his head back and a rich laugh tumbles forth. It sounds nicer than you wish to admit to yourself.

“Never,” he finally answers, grinning. “Though, feel free to come get me next time you lose against a shelf.”

Your mouth drops open in affront, but he makes a departure too quick for you to respond. His laughter echoes down the halls and you’re left reeling in your spot.

This isn’t what you expected to happen after walking in on a few intimate situations. In fact, this is quite the opposite.

What is happening?

x – x – x

As the weeks go by, there are several big nights and several big matches. Hoseok and Yoongi, among a few others from the gym, emerge victorious. At this point you’re not too ashamed to say that you spent the entirety of their matches watching the way their muscles rippled as they dodged, swung and wove around the ring. If the last shred of dignity still clinging to you had disappeared, then you probably would have drooled like a dog.

The nights tend to go by weight classes, and the next upcoming night is to showcase the middleweight boxers. While Jungkook classifies for the class, as one of the newer recruits he isn’t the first choice for the match—much to his dismay.

It is approximately a week before this big match, in which Namjoon, one of the three men who live in your head rent-free these days, is participating, that you’re woken from your sleep and called into the gym.

It’s your night off, actually, so for you to be called in there must have been a pretty serious injury. You’re proven right when you enter the building and walk into the main room.

Before you can even assess the scene, Yoongi spots you and darts on over. He has a look on his face that you don’t think he’s ever sported before, and it fills you with a feeling of dread. It seems an appropriate feeling, considering what you see when you advance further into the room, towed by the frantic blonde who’d fetched you.

“Holy shit, what the hell happened?!” You dart forward, Yoongi’s grip slipping from your wrist as you move out of his reach.

Namjoon is seated on the floor in a squat, cradling his left hand to his chest. A grimace twists his features, eyes glistening but face clear of tears.

To your complete and utter surprise, the familiar tenor of Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears. You didn’t know he had stayed behind to practice tonight.

“We were leaving after practicing a bit later than normal, and some assholes drove past and picked a fight. I think—I think they were members from one of the rival clubs on the other side of the city but it was kind of dark and I didn’t get a good look.”

Your brows shoot up—that’s risky behaviour on their part, if it was actually members of a rival club that did this. Judges of this particular tournament don’t look kindly on foul play.

It would make sense if it’s true, though; a lot of local clubs tend to have boxers in the middleweight range, and Namjoon has emerged from enough matches victorious that he’s actually quite a threat.

“Let me see,” you say, holding your hands out to Namjoon for him to rest his injured one in your hold. “Jungkook, go get the big tin box with the red cross from my office. Make sure it’s the one with antiseptic and bandages.”

You don’t even need to check he’s listened, because you can hear the frantic, obedient pattering of his feet fading away in the distance as you unwrap the blood-drenched towel from the hand in your hold. Namjoon’s busted up limb takes all of your attention the second you lay eyes on it properly, your stomach filling with an unpleasant, nameless cocktail of sensations.

“Holy shit,” you say, unable to contain your wince. “Tell me you didn’t get this from fighting them bare-knuckle.”

Namjoon has enough capacity for humour right now that he lets out a little huff. Yoongi fills you in before Namjoon has a chance.

“No, though I almost did.” His expression is dark, the heat of his anger reaching you even when it’s not directed your way. “They were probably drinking before coming here, since they had a few bottles they threw into the mix.”

That explains the gashes you’re seeing on Namjoon’s palm— it seems he caught one of the bottles, though you’re not sure whether it was already broken or whether it broke on impact. Thankfully, from what you can see, the gashes and lacerations aren’t too deep and shouldn’t cause lasting damage, but they’ll definitely take a while to heal, and one or two of them look like they will need stitches.

“Alright,” you begin, sighing softly. “I’ll do what I can to fix this up for now, but you’re going to have to go to the ER, because some of these will need stitches…”

You look up, reading the expressions of everyone in attendance and knowing that they have all reached the same conclusion regarding Namjoon’s immediate fate as a boxer.

“Sorry, Namjoon,” you start, watching his features crumble ever so slightly into a look of resignation. “This isn’t going to heal in time for next week, and you definitely won’t be able to train for a while.”

It’s just as you announce that, that Jungkook returns with your box of first-aid goodies. Hoseok, who has remained surprisingly silent the whole time this conversation has gone on, takes the box from his hold and delivers it next to you. Surprising all of you, Namjoon is quick to look up and pin Jungkook with a grin.

“Well, since I can’t participate—how do you feel about making your Big Boy Boxing Debut, Jungkookie?”

Your friend is rooted to the spot in shock for a solid few moments, before he snaps out of it and an excited if slightly nervous expression filters onto his face.

“I will defend your honour, Namjoon!” he declares, saluting stupidly. “Count on me!”

Cheesy of him, but you can’t help the smile that tugs your lips. You just hope it’s not too late-notice for him, and that Namjoon’s injuries really aren’t that serious, as you surmise.

x – x – x

The week passes quicker than you anticipate, and before you know it, it’s the night of the big match—Jungkook’s first big match, that is. Namjoon had done his best over the days to coach Jungkook on the particular fighting styles of the opponents he normally faces, and to everyone’s pleasant surprise, Jungkook has picked it all up with ease.

You’re more surprised to say that you’re not even that nervous, as you sit waiting for the match to begin. Jungkook stands in one corner, his opponent from one of the more renowned rival gyms in the other. You prepare to be on standby in case either boxer is injured enough to need aid, but cross your fingers that if anything at least Jungkook will be alright.

In the blink of an eye, the match begins and the first bout kicks off. Jungkook’s opponent is slightly stockier, likely pushing the upper limits of the weight class, and is the first to make an offensive move. The familiar sound of cushioned gloves making impact rings in the air and you find yourself tensing in your seat as you watch the two interchange blows.

It’s pretty much neck-and-neck for a majority of the bouts. Some of them go quick, and others seem to consist of the longest three minutes of your life. Still, the match goes on, and the night is filled with the siren song of the crowd and the ring of the bell.

After a night of close-call bouts and baited breath, Jungkook finally emerges victorious.

Ever the fan favourite, the crowd that has amassed erupt into cheers as the referee declares the end of the final bout and Jungkook is held up as the victor. With the match decided, the club members that had been watching ringside burst up and swarm around the young boxer who brought pride to the gym on his very first big match. The three boxers that usually occupy your thoughts wriggle their way up there too, and it’s Hoseok’s bright tone that pierces the ruckus of the crowd.

“Drinks at ours to celebrate our victor, Jungkookie!” he caws, rubbing Jungkook on the back in something akin to pride. “Members of King Hit Gym, we better see you all there!”

You mightn’t be a technical member, but the way you suddenly feel three sets of eyes on you tells you that you’re still more than invited.

x – x – x

It’s three hours since the end of the match, and you’re more than a little tipsy.

You can safely say that you haven’t ever been to the house where Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi live, but you’re nothing short of impressed. It’s a three-storey townhouse, with three rooms— presumably one for each of them, though from what you’d glimpsed on the way to the bathroom earlier only one of them appears regularly lived in.

It didn’t take you long to ponder exactly why, considering the things you’ve accidentally witnessed in the past month.

Most of your time tonight was spent celebrating with Jungkook as he made the rounds and received congratulations from the rest of the club members. Music thrums through the building, bass vibrating pleasantly through your chest every time you pass the expensive speakers in the living room.

You’ve paced yourself well, all things considered. All you had to do to avoid an early night ending in blackout drunkenness was steer clear of Jungkook whenever he made his way by the kitchen to refill— he’d learnt his mixing skills from Jimin, a verified alcoholic back in the day who spent his time in university trying to throw together his own signature cocktail with the same alcohol percentage as absinthe.

So you’re relatively proud of yourself to only be a little over tipsy at this point in the night. You can’t really say the same for the rest of the club members, though— even Jungkook has reached a point where he is stumbling and giggling. Which, of course, led to the event that splattered drink all over your shirt.

You’re wandering up the stairs now, mind occupied with everything but what you’re doing as you absentmindedly seek the bathroom to clean your shirt. You haven’t seen any of the homeowners in a while, actually, which is kind of disappointing because you’re really longing for some eye candy right about now. They disappeared about ten minutes ago, and you figured it was just to socialise or maybe grab more snacks but you haven’t paid it much thought since then, and now you’re realising they hadn’t returned to the party yet.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you pause for a moment to try and recall which room is the bathroom. There’s two of them, you remember being told, one ensuite and a main bathroom. There was also a third one on the first floor, but that was too far for you to attempt reaching it. Unable to remember which door is which, you simply decide to wing it and march on forward towards the first door to enter your line of sight. You’re pretty stable, but your head is kind of fuzzy, so your hand hovers by the wall as you walk just in case you stumble.

Upon reaching the door in question, it takes you about a second and a half to realise the room you have reached is not the one you want, and another second for the shock to reach you.

Because, for the third time in a month, you have walked in on something you shouldn’t have.

Except this time, you can’t seem to pull yourself away as fast as you should.

It’s Hoseok and Namjoon tangled before you this time, in a position much more intimate than the last you’d seen. Their lips are locked, Hoseok straddling one of Namjoon’s thighs with one hand tangled in inky locks and the other rubbing over his crotch, where a prominent bulge makes itself known even to your eyes. Just when you remember that you should really be on your way, their lips break apart and Namjoon’s head tilts back, a sinful, velvet moan climbing from his throat as Hoseok leans to pepper it with kisses. It’s mesmerising, and you forget you’re even there as you watch the red-haired man’s hand climb up Namjoon’s stomach and then slip beneath the waistband of his jeans.

You come back to yourself when you feel a familiar tightness in your own pants and a throb between your legs— of course, you’re hard. You’re too hazy-brained to even be ashamed of it right now. It does pierce through the fog, though, that you’re intruding on something you’re not meant to see. Like you’re trying to move limbs filled with lead, you start to drag your feet and turn around.

You barely get a step in before you’re face to face with someone strikingly familiar, and your heart drops in your chest before kicking back into motion at double speed.

“You always seem to enjoy watching, don’t you?” Yoongi’s question catches you off guard and puts you on the spot— before you can panic, though, his lips curl in a kittenish smile. “It’s alright, we already know you do, baby boy.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, stomach flipping giddily. Your eyes track it with surprising clarity as Yoongi’s hand— strong and sculpted and deliciously vascular, as you’d admired many times before— rises to caress your cheek, and he leans forward until his lips brush the sensitive skin of your earlobe.

“Why don’t you join us, this time?”

You find yourself nodding before you even realise it, but it’s definitely a decision you would make again any other day.

You feel Yoongi smile against your ear, and then he is pressing a soft kiss to your cheek and pulling back. That same strong hand winds around your wrist and you’re tugged into the room, the door shutting behind you. The two on the bed barely bat an eye at the arrival of their third lover and an extra figure, merely smiling dazedly at the two of you.

“Baby boy is finally gonna join us?” Hoseok asks, eyes lidded and dark to match the tousled look of his hair and clothes. His words are slightly slurred but the keenness to his gaze tells you he is still very much aware of everything he does.

Yoongi hums in confirmation, coming up behind you to wind his arms lazily around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Mhmm. Don’t stop on our account— why don’t you give him a bit of a show to start, hm?”

Hoseok needs no further prompting, a grin all you glimpse before he is diving back to crash his lips into Namjoon’s, hand moving inside his pants and eliciting a deep, throaty groan. It makes your own cock throb in need, and almost as though he reads your mind, Yoongi's voice sounds in your ear once more.

“You already hard, baby boy? Like what you see?”

Something about the husky quality of the boxer’s voice makes a shudder roll down your spine, a light whine slipping from your throat. Yoongi presses soft kisses to the skin of your neck as you watch the two on the bed undress each other between heated kisses.

“Want me to touch you, baby boy?”

As though possessed, your head begins nodding before you even think to act on the urge. Yoongi requires no further prompting; he begins to kiss and suckle along the column of your neck while his hands move— one creeps up beneath your shirt to flick a thumb over your nipple, and the other slips down, down, down beneath the waistband of your pants and boxers, until that hand you admire so much is slipping around your cock and squeezing just enough to make you gasp out a moan.

Pleasure and desire wind together to mix with the tipsy haze in your mind, and you’re more than happy to surrender yourself to the current situation. Slowly, you’re urged over to the bed, eyes still locked on the pair occupied there as Yoongi’s hand works magic on your length. You don’t even bother attempting to stem the gasps and moans tumbling forth because you know at this point it would probably be futile.

Hoseok has now stripped Namjoon entirely and is making his way down his body with his mouth, pressing a kiss against every inch of golden skin he can reach. Namjoon is quite generously endowed, and you can’t tear your eyes away as Hoseok finally reaches the apex of his thighs and begins to lavish attention to Namjoon’s flushed cock.

You can feel Yoongi grinding lightly against you as he strokes your own aching member, the two of you observing the show before you with rapt attention. At some point you’re rid of your shirt and the air feels cool against your flushed skin, your upper body leaning back against Yoongi contentedly. The noises spilling from Namjoon’s throat are downright sinful as Hoseok’s mouth sinks down on him with practiced ease.

It’s almost too much for you, really. Almost sensory overload. You’re urged ever so slowly to the bed, and as you sit on the plush mattress you happily oblige as Yoongi begins to undo and remove the jeans that are now uncomfortably tight. Your boxers follow soon after and then you’re joining the other two in their nudity. As though sensing the change in plans, Hoseok pulls off of Namjoon’s cock with a ‘pop’, licking his lips and ignoring the whine in protest that Namjoon lets out. “In a minute, bubs.”

Yoongi leans over to the bedside table to retrieve lube and something else you soon realise to be condoms as he tosses them on the bed between him and Hoseok.

“Are you alright with this?”

You turn at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, eyes meeting his own— though heady and full of desire, they’re also determined. You don’t doubt that if you say no, he will stop things here.

“Yes,” you confirm, and you watch as a smile pulls over Yoongi’s face.

“Excellent. Now, lean forward, baby boy. This might be a little cold.”

Without question, you allow him to shift and bend your body as needed, knees digging into the plush bedding. Tilting your head up, you manage to meet the eyes of Namjoon, who is in a similar position to yourself, just in time for you to gasp at the sudden cold sensation at your ass.

You’d think by now you would be used to the feeling of lube— you’re immediately distracted from that though at the sensation of Yoongi’s finger beginning to toy around your asshole. You allow yourself to relax as much as possible, turning your attention to Namjoon and Hoseok and simply enjoying the sensations Yoongi is eliciting.

Namjoon’s hand raises, cupping your cheek and dragging down ever so gently. Hoseok catches the movement and lets out a coo, eyes boring into your own.

“Wanna kiss him, baby boy? Go ahead, he’s good at it.”

You don’t need to be told twice, and neither does Namjoon. You find Hoseok definitely isn’t wrong as Namjoon’s lips meet your own, the kiss quickly turning heated as his mouth moves against your own. He swallows down your moans as Yoongi’s fingers begin to stretch you slowly, one by one.

You lose so much time in the hypnotic motion of bodies against your own that before you know it there is a gentle yet firm hand against your shoulder pulling you back from the man before you.

“Ready, baby?”

You nod, and soon after hear the familiar tear of foil before the head of Yoongi’s cock is pressing against your hole. You take a deep breath in, allowing your eyes to flutter closed as he begins to press himself in and stretch you open bit by bit. The burn isn’t particularly painful tonight, and to be honest sometimes you’re partial to the sensation.

By the time Yoongi is fully seated within you, you’re almost panting, soft moans escaping unwittingly. Through the fog of pleasure currently addling your brain, you hear similar noises in front of you and realise Namjoon must be in a similar state. Unconsciously, your hand stretches out, seeking contact, and manages to entwine with the large, warm one you identify as Namjoon’s good hand.

As soon as Yoongi receives the green light from you, he begins to move. The sensations of him dragging against your walls are enough to almost drive you mad, especially at the slow pace he’s set. It isn’t long before he picks up though, and soon rough the slap of his hips against your ass is one of the many sinful noises echoing in the room, muffled by the loud music still booming beyond the bedroom walls.

“O-oh, fuck,” you moan, barely coherent enough to respond to Namjoon’s seeking lips. Absently, you hear Yoongi’s soft groans and low murmured praises, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Good boy,” he all but purrs, hand caressing down your spine before finding purchase at your hips.

Time blurs and you’re wound so tight that it isn’t long before you feel yourself approaching that edge, your hand lowering to begin stroking your own cock again in an effort to reach your high faster. It’s one deep stroke that hits you in all the right places that is your undoing, and with a cry you’re cumming hard, spots appearing behind your eyes.

The sudden tightness around his cock has Yoongi stilling, a low, drawn out groan sounding from his throat as he joins you in your high, throbbing inside you. Your arms are a little too weak to continue holding you, but he seems to be in tune enough that he notices and his own slip around you, easing you into his embrace as he adjusts on the mattress and hums into your skin.

Namjoon and Hoseok aren’t far behind you, the two of them reaching their own end not long after. Namjoon flops against the bed, spent and Hoseok hops up to retrieve a bin and some wipes to clean up a bit before he too flops across the mattress, smacking Namjoon’s ass as he does and eliciting a brief whine in protest.

“Well fuck,” you hum, staring absently at the ceiling. Yoongi snorts, pulling you closer, and like they all share a hive mind you’re very suddenly in the middle of a cuddle pile as the other two join in.

“Beats just watching, doesn’t it?” One of them queries, probably Hoseok— you’re too tired to really discern it.

“Mhm,” you respond, basking in content. “Four’s company, I suppose.”

There are a few hums of agreement, and then comfortable silence falls over the room. You find yourself smiling as you sink into the most content sleep you’ve had in a while, in the arms of the three boxers who have nestled their way into your heart one by one

#bts smut #bts fic #btsghostie #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x male reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x male reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok x male reader #bts au #rapline fic #rapline smut #reader insert #my work #my writing #bts fanfic

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lifeofroos · 3 years

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A/N: Clarisse lol once again on this. Her spear gets stolen boys.

AO3 - KoFi

The Thief

The door made a loud bang as Clarisse strided in. Only a few of her siblings cared to look up.

‘We’re raiding the Hermes cabin.’

Now people got interested. ‘What did they do?’

‘Something important has been stolen. I don’t want any more questions, just your total cooperation.’

The Ares campers didn’t need to hear anything else. Within seconds, they had picked up their weapons and strapped on their every-day protective gear.

The take-over was a breeze. There was only one camper inside, the rest was too busy training. Two Ares kids janked him out. The rest stationed themselves around the cabin so no one else could try and get in, except for Clarisse and two of her siblings.

Clarisse peered around. At first glance, she couldn’t see her spear anywhere, but that was probably the way the cabin was designed. They had to have stuff stashed away in corners, the little sneaks.

‘You search the beds, and you search the closets,’ she ordered the two people that had come in with her. ‘You’re looking for a spear.’

The two other campers exchanged nervous looks. Maimer had been a present from Ares himself. If someone had stolen that, the camp would burn if she didn’t get it back soon.

While the others checked out the beds and the closets, Clarisse ran her hands past the walls. There had to be a nook or creek somewhere, to reach the secret compartments Chris had told her about.

After a few minutes of searching, she found a bulge under her fingertip, so small that most people wouldn’t notice. She snickered as she ran her hand over that part of the wall. Her boyfriend really should be less trusting with information like that.

She managed to jam her finger under the wooden plank. Yet, when she took it away, she only found some loose banknotes. With a disgruntled noise, she put the plank back.

‘Clarisse!’ With her eyebrows raised, she turned around. Her cabin mate was looking under a bed.

‘Something’s here!’

Clarisse sat down next to her sibling. There seemed to be a compartment under the bed. She reached her hand into the hole, knowing there might as well be poisonous bugs in there.

She didn’t find poisonous bugs, but neither did she find her spear. Instead, she took out a hand-mirror.

She tutted. ‘Silena won’t be happy with whoever stole this. She got it from Aphrodite.’

The other campers' eyes got wide. ‘So the Hermes campers have been stealing gifts from our godly parents?’

‘It seems like it.’

‘Then we should tell Chiron and Dionysus!’

Clarisse shook her head. ‘We can figure it out ourselves. However, we’re leaving here. They would never stash two valuable objects in the same place.’

When she walked outside, there was an array of campers looking to see what was going on. Connor Stoll lurched forward when he saw Clarisse coming out. ‘You’re not allowed to come in without permission!’

She held up the mirror. ‘And your campers are not allowed to steal stuff like this, now are they?’

Connor violently turned around. ‘Which one of you imbeciles took that?’

Clarisse walked past him. ‘I am glad we are on the same page about it. But don’t think I’ll let you rest until my spear is back, Stoll.’

He gritted his teeth. ‘All of you,’ he ordered, ‘Will be searching along. And to whoever did this: I am not responsible for whatever happens to you.’

The news of the theft spread like wildfire. Soon, everyone in the camp was either searching, hiding or praying.

‘Silena?’

The daughter of Aphrodite took her mirror. ‘I heard what happened. Those bastards. May their clothes shrink whenever they put them on.’

‘Does that work specifically?’

She chuckled. ‘Not when I don’t know who it should be directed to.’ Clarisse nodded, but couldn’t help but scan the camp for demigods with shirts that were a little too crampy.

‘What about Phobos and Deimos?’ Sherman inquired

Clarisse shook her head. ‘Too boastful. They wouldn’t be able to keep their mouths shut about it for this long.’

‘Most of the Hermes campers check out right now as well. Perhaps the Athena campers? Or Percy Jackson?’

Clarisse shrugged. ‘The Athena campers are too wise to pull a stunt like this one and I like to think Jackson has something better to do with his time. Still, search the arts-and-crafts building and the boathouse.’

Sherman gave a firm nod, before running away.

It was getting ridiculous. Almost every nook of the camp, safe for the forests, had been searched. Would a camper really be so stupid as to go into the forest for a prank? A prank that, in no possible way, would end well?

As soon as this realisation got through to the rest of the camp, they began to form a crowd around the capture the flag starting point, thinking about what to do next. Anything to keep Clarisse from burning down the whole camp.

When Clarisse arrived, one of the Ares campers was standing in the middle of the group, next to the shabby flag pole that currently had the Apollo flag on it (To show that they won the last capture-the-flag game). ‘We should make search groups. Everyone gets an area of the forest!’ He held up his hand and accidently knocked over the pole. It fell down, only to reveal the head of a spear.

It got dead quiet. Campers turned their heads towards the Apollo campers, who all looked equally as shocked.

Clarisse made her way to the front. Calmly, she picked up the spear, which gave a little shock as soon as she picked it up.

Still ever so calm, she turned to the Apollo campers. ‘Well? Anyone want to claim responsibility?’

It stayed quiet. The Apollo campers were looking at each other, trying to remember who had planted the flag pole the day they won.

Clarisse snickered. ‘Doesn’t matter. Capture the flag is tomorrow. Ares campers, we’ll just have to get them all.’

A loud roaring made it known that the other Ares kids agreed to this sentiment. The Apollo kids shushed among each other, knowing that they had to get the right allies this time. Yet, one look around camp already told them it might be difficult to get allies at all.

Silena raised her fist. ‘But don’t think that the Hermes kids will get away with stealing the magic mirror! You don’t even know the impact of what you did, pests!’ Her cry was echoed by the other Aphrodite campers, the Ares campers, and eventually almost everyone.

Chiron looked on from a distance. ‘Is it time to do something about it?’

Dionysus shook his head. ‘Let them fight it out among them.’

‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

‘I hope they’ll contain themselves during dinner. If not, then we should by all means do something about it. I don’t want a repeat of the food fight from last week.’

They sighed, knowing full well that a return of the food fight was inevitable. Just as inevitable as macguffins being stolen, campers grinding each other into the dirt and using the weirdest things as flagpoles.

A/N: I like to think that the money Clarisse found in the Hermes cabin was at least 100.000 dollars, all in wads of cash.

The next chapter on the list was requested by an AO3 reader - Clarisse meeting Aphrodite! I also got your other prompt, it's on the list, it'll be there :)

#clarisse la rue #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfiction #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson and the olympians fanfic #percy jackson and the olympians fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #writer #silena beauregard #connor stoll #chiron #spear

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girl4music · 3 years

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BUFFY REWATCH - S05E13 - Blood Ties

XANDER: “What about this... Key thing-y Glory's looking for?”

*Buffy and Giles both standing, sipping tea, exchanging a look*

TARA (voice over): “Yeah, I mean, shouldn't we be trying to find it before she does?”

BUFFY: “I don't think that's what we should be worrying about right now.”

*Giles sits*

WILLOW: “They've got a point. Whatever Glory's planning on opening with the Key, I'm guessing it won't be filled with candy and flowers.”

XANDER: “So where should we start looking? Do we know where it used to be kept? Who saw it last?”

BUFFY: “We did. Giles and me. We, we know where it is.”

XANDER: “You what?”

WILLOW: “You know, and you didn't tell us?”

GILES: “There were... reasons.”

BUFFY: “Look, i-if Glory knew that you guys knew where it was, I...

*Sits*

I-I just didn't wanna put you in that kind of danger.”

XANDER:

*Annoyed*

“As opposed to the other kind we're always in?”

WILLOW: “You should have said something.”

BUFFY: “Will, there-

*Pauses*

You're right.

*To Giles*

It's time.”

GILES: “Are you sure?”

BUFFY: “If they're gonna be risking their lives, they deserve to know.”

XANDER: “Know what?”

*Buffy looks at her friends. They look at her*

BUFFY: “There's something that you need to know... about Dawn.”

For this episode recap of ‘Blood Ties’, we’re going back to the theme of withholding information that we had in Season 4 with Willow withholding her romantic/sexual relationship with Tara from Buffy and the Gang, and Buffy withholding information of Riley being an Initiative Commando from Giles. But this time the reason to withhold information is much more serious as this is about Dawn’s true nature as the Key. Therefore, it would be information that would put the Scoobies in danger if they knew about her being it. Buffy only tells Giles this information as soon she finds out for herself, and they decide together that it’s for the best that no one else knows, lest they be targeted by Glory - who is looking for the Key to open a portal to get back to her Hell dimension.

I wanted to address this withholding of information from the other Scoobies because “it’s too dangerous” to know it because it’s a common occurrence that Buffy uses the “it’s too dangerous” excuse when it comes to Willow and Xander. Knowing they’re willing volunteers in aiding her in the Slayage, she often worries about their safety when she’s really got a challenge on her hands. And I would say Glory is the biggest challenge she’s faced so far. As a Hell God, Glory is the strongest Big Bad Buffy has come across yet. She’s even stronger than Adam - so she probably thinks that the enjoining spell (where she, Willow, Xander and Giles combined their essences to defeat Adam when he was just too strong for Buffy to take on alone in the Season 4 climax) wouldn’t be helpful this time. So she and Giles figured that keeping them out-of-the-loop on the Key was the best thing to do to both keep Willow/Xander/Scooby Gang safe and protect Dawn.

But see... the thing is, is they’re not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. Willow and Xander specifically (and Giles, to some degree, with officially being her assigned, and recently reinstated, Watcher) will always risk their lives not just because they’re the Slayer’s best friends - (and Watcher/Father figure) - but also because they’ve chosen their fate a long time ago. They were aware of the dangers and the risks and the consequences from pretty much the start of Buffy’s Slayer journey, and they chose to be willing participants in helping Buffy anyway. So now it doesn’t matter whether Buffy is around to fight evil as they’re going to be doing it anyway... because they’ve CHOSEN to do it. And that’s a very important word in the context of this subject because Buffy had no choice.

I bring up Willow’s conversation with Buffy in the episode ‘Choices’ in telling her where she’ll be going to college after graduating from Sunnydale High School:

Buffy: “I'm never getting out of here. I kept thinking if I stopped the Mayor or... but I was kidding myself. I mean, there is always going to be something. I'm a Sunnydale girl,... no other choice.”

Willow: “Must be tough. I mean, here I am... I can do anything I want. I can go to any college in the country. Four or five in Europe if I want.”

Buffy: “Please tell me you're going somewhere with this?”

Willow: “No.

*Hands Buffy a letter*

I'm not going anywhere.”

Buffy:

*Reads the letter*

“UC Sunnydale?”

Willow: “I will be matriculating with Class of 2003.”

Buffy: “Are you serious?”

Willow: “Say,... isn't that where you're going?”

*Buffy hugs her and they tumble onto the ground*

Buffy: “I can't believe it! Are you serious?! Ah, wait, what am I saying? You can't.”

Willow: “What do you mean, ‘I can't?’”

Buffy: “I won't let you.”

Willow: “Of the two people here, which is the boss of me?”

Buffy: “There are better schools.”

Willow: “Sunnydale's not bad. And I can design my own curriculum.”

Buffy: “Okay, well, there are safer schools. There are safer prisons. I can't let you stay because of me.”

Willow: "Actually, this isn't about you. Although I'm fond, don't get me wrong, of you. The other night, you know, being captured and all, facing off with Faith. Things just, kind of, got clear. I mean, you've been fighting evil here for three years, and I've helped some, and now we're supposed to decide what we want to do with our lives. And I just realized that that's what I want to do. Fight evil, help people. I mean, I think it's worth doing. And I don't think you do it because you have to. It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in.”

Buffy: “I kind of love you.”

Willow: “And, besides, I have a shot at being a bad ass Wiccan, and what better place to learn?”

It’s not about Buffy. It’s about fighting the good fight. Fighting against evil. Big Bad evil, the likes of Glory, especially. Maybe it makes some sense to play the whole “it’s too dangerous” card with Xander since he doesn’t have any physical/practical and/or mystical/magical powers... but it doesn’t make sense to play it with Willow. Willow now knows who she is and what she wants. Even if she doesn’t always believe in herself, she’s at least self-aware enough to know what it is that makes her tick. She wants to feel the heroicness of Buffy in helping the innocent for herself. Willow wants the power... and now she’s got the power... there is no reason why she shouldn’t be allowed to know information that would put her in danger or make her a target when she clearly shows, and does later prove when Glory targets Tara, that she’s the only one strong and powerful enough to hurt her and protect everyone, including Dawn, from Glory.

“The Slayer thing really isn't about the violence. It's about the power.”

It ultimately comes down to Buffy thinking she’s burdening her friends with having to take on the responsibility of Slayage. But she’s all wrong. Her friends - especially Willow - have CHOSEN this life. And it’s literally Giles’ job so... get a clue, Slayer. You’re better off when you have help. Your ties to the world do not weaken you. They make you stronger. There is always danger, there is always risk, there is always consequences. But someone’s CHOICE is all that matters. Just because YOU didn’t get a choice in the matter doesn’t mean you can “relieve” the Scoobies from theirs in the name of “it’s too dangerous" because it is also too dangerous for you to be without them too, Buffy.

#buffy the vampire slayer #blood ties #buffy summers #willow rosenberg #xander harris #rupert giles #tara maclay #it's too dangerous #choice #episode recap #buffy rewatch

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woozisnoots · 3 years

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i’m not a hero | hansol vernon chwe

° pairing: vernon x reader ° genre: floofity floof fluff ° summary: people ask you, the avid star wars enthusiast, who your favorite character is and to their surprise? it’s not the hero. ° word count: 1276 ° warning: i mention weapon maybe 2 times ° a/n: my installment for @merakiiverse collab - thank you so much for this really fun opportunity!!! check out the masterlist + all the amazing authors below 💓 (and yes this is part of krys and i’s disneyland au as well!)

meraki’s job collab! / seventeen stars to the right!

masterlist!

everyone will tell you how hard it is trying to pay for college, being away from home, living alone, occasionally having to cope with potential loneliness and lack of motivation from time to time

but some college experiences outweigh all those hardships

and for vernon, it’s two things: you and living out his dream job. well, close to his dream job

you and vernon actually went to the same high school and even shared classes together. exchanged a couple of laughs during graduation practice at how both your names were mispronounced at the podium

yet for the entire three / four years that you were there, no words ushered between you two aside from formal greetings and acknowledged nods. after those graduation caps went up in the sky and you disappeared into the crowd, vernon regretted not talking to you at least once.

just when he was about to lose hope and move passed it, the next thing he knew, he saw you again waiting outside his communications class at his university

‘so this must be fate, it has to be… or a sign? whatever the difference is’

vernon’s face completely flushed when you expressed how relieved you were to see him, alas a familiar face in this new foreign place. making small talk before class started. finding out you guys actually shared the same major, hinting that he’ll probably get to see and spend more time with you more often, in and outside of school

what a perfect perfect way to start a friendship!

after exchanging each other numbers, study sessions became regular hangouts and soon after a few months, the awkward air around him diminished and he finally let his nonchalant person shine through

…but that doesn’t mean he still isn’t shy.

“awe so yn still doesn’t know about your obsession with star wars? can’t be their little jedi to save the them from having to write an argumentative speech in five minutes?”

vernon only responded by sending a glare directed towards his roommate and shoved his head into his pillow, yelping out his internal screams

and for his information, he wasn’t necessarily the hero of the story

how was he supposed to tell you that he worked as a storm trooper at disneyland?

first and far most important, he can’t. that’s against the rules, he would get fired in a heartbeat. that would ruin the entire galaxy edge experience. where’s the magic in that?

and second, even if he were to tell you, he just broke through the wall and is finally on good terms with you. yes, you guys may be friends right now but he does eventually want to ask you out

in his head, being a star wars fan doesn’t really give him that cool reputation that he wants you to perceive of him

and what if you didn’t know what a storm trooper was? now he would just be embarrassed :(

the one free day that you guys have, he almost regrets wanting to work there in the first place

you: hey! you free this weekend?

vernon: depends… am i?

you: well make yourself free :p think you can scavenge some money to get a one day ticket to disneyland on saturday?

vernon: that is more than 100 dollars, do you really think

you: PLEASE IT’LL BE FUN !!!! my best friend and i just got seasonal passes and are ready to abuse it every weekend <3

vernon: ok and your speech?

you: …will be written before then :D

vernon: …fINE

vernon: bold of you to assume i already to have a pass. late to the fun train i see

oh gosh, what the hell did he just say yes to? he has work that day!

thankfully, he only needs to work one shift and that lasts a couple of hours. he can make an excuse for meeting up late - his best being getting into a long phone call with his parents and losing track of time (which you wholeheartedly believe given his known soft spot for his family)

there’s a possible chance, you won’t even go to his certain place of work anyways. maybe you’ll just go to check it out, go on a few rides and wander off.

it was late morning bleeding into the afternoon and vernon was all set in costume, ready to march around the side of the park as one of two of kylo ren’s bodyguards

on a warm, sunny california day like this, was the only time vernon didn’t particularly like having to play a character in a full body costume. he could feel the heat rising up in his helmet and sweat accumulates in places he didn’t know could sweat, uncomfortable wedgies throughout the day

and it suddenly gets a thousand times hotter when he sees you walking towards him, leading your best friend to the outside meet and greet area

during his time, vernon has seen some pretty surprising guests at disneyland all while keeping his composure and staying in character. but this is the first time he almost lets his mumbling slip past his microphone and nearly dropping his blaster to the ground

there’s nothing much that vernon can do as he stands in front of the guests, including you. it’s not like you came to see him specifically, everyone’s here to see the kylo ren

so he decides to play it off the best and only way he knows how

“approach,” he says to you and your friend as it was their turn, gripping his fake weapon in both hands

he did not expect you to be so excited for this interaction. up close, vernon notices that you portrayed an opened mouth smile with a certain glimmer in your eyes that he doesn’t get to see off duty

“have you sworn allegiance to the first order?” his partner to his left continues the conversation

“if i say yes, does that mean i can get a picture with you guys?” you fiddle to find the your phone in your disney themed backpack and hand it to your friend that seemed rather distracted upon other things

looking back and forth between the other storm trooper and you, as a cast member, vernon knew exactly what to say

“well that makes things easier for the both of us. proceed.”

your high pitched squeal finally gets the attention of your friend, taking a few steps back to take the photo

you’re sandwiched in between the two stormtroopers and an awkward kylo ren towering behind you

vernon promptly holds up his blaster with one hand over his shoulder, making for a more dramatic photo, but what the camera can’t capture is how completely flustered vernon is under his armored attire

he’s never been this close to you before

thank goodness he was playing a character or else you wouldn’t know what to do with him hyperventilating right in front of you

once the picture is shot and approved yours truly, you continue to have a one on one conversation with kylo ren before having to leave. giving vernon a little while to recover and look around at anywhere and anyone to calm down his heart as you stand just a mere few inches close to him

being considerate of your friend, your time is short and you guys make your way to the exist with slight disappoint shown on your face

vernon risks watching you leave the vicinity, not paying too much attention to the guests waiting patiently in line

and it’s worth it to see you look back at him one last time, feeling as if you could see right through his façade

#seventeen #vernon #caratwritersclub #seventeen fluff #vernon fluff #seventeen scenario #vernon scenario #vernon x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #vernon fanfic #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #vernon imagine #svt x reader #svtstars

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

Text

Untouchable 15 - The End [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Sorry about the long wait my loves, here’s the final chapter, I hope you will like it !

The previous chapters are on my masterlist<3

Pleasure has a price Bucky Barnes can’t afford. What happens when he falls in love with someone he shouldn’t have?

Summary: Future holds many possibilities.

Characters: Reader x Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 3336

Warnings: Mentions of sex, explicit language.

This felt exactly like that pleasant, numb state where you couldn’t exactly tell whether you were sleeping or awake.

There were voices though. Different voices.

“What’s that around her neck?”

“Listen, if HYDRA did this-“

“Maybe they put that necklace, it could help us somehow.”

But God, why did it have to be so cold?

“Go get Barnes and Captain Rogers.”

“Why does she have his-”

“I said go rookie, now!”

There were a bunch of lights flashing behind your closed eyelids, a wave of voices until they retreated, letting you pull yourself from the soft and warm realm of sleep.

Then you woke up with a gasp and sat up in bed, breathing hard and looking around, fear crashing down on you, you had to get out, get somewhere else, get to the-

“Darling?”

You turned your head to see the owner of the voice, and blinked a couple of times, your mind screaming at you as soon as it dawned on you.

“Bucky?” you breathed out, your heart still pounding in your ears. He looked different than what you remembered, his hair was longer, and the carefree light in his eyes was gone, compared to before. His clothes were also different, and he was wearing a leather jacket and gloves even though you were pretty sure you were indoors.

“What-where am I? What happened to you?”

“Just-“ he approached you and sat beside you, “How do you feel?”

“Confused!” you exclaimed, “When did you- how long have I been sleeping?”

“A while.”

“Bucky.”

“Around seventy years.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you jumped up from the bed to rush to the window to see your reflection, frowning slightly.

“Very funny,” you turned to him, “I look the same. So do you, except for the hair and…” you motioned at him, “What is happening? Am I dreaming?”

“No,” he shook his head, “But um…you might want to sit down for this.”

You crossed your arms, still glaring at him even if all you wanted to do was to hug him and be closer to him, no matter what game he was playing.

“I’m not sitting down until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Doll-“

“Also lose the gloves for God’s sake, it’s warm here, what is this a new style?”

Bucky nibbled on his lip, deep in thought, then pulled the gloves off his hands and shed the jacket, and your breath caught in your throat as your gaze fell on his arm that seemed to be made of metal.

It took you almost half a minute to pull yourself together before you managed to meet his eyes, then bit inside your cheek and made your way to the bed to sit down.

“Okay,” you said slowly, “Okay. Tell me what is happening then.”

***

Maybe you weren’t supposed to ask the questions you didn’t want to be answered, because in this case, you definitely didn’t need this.

Any of this. Whatever this was.

A part of you still refused to believe it.

Everything that happened for the rest of the day felt like some sort of absurd dream. You were taken to a high tower, introduced to some people –Avengers, if you recalled right-, as well as being informed by some agents. Bucky never left your side even for a minute, and eventually you grew too tired to even answer any of their questions so you let him take you to his apartment.

The road was so strange though. You knew you were still in Brooklyn, but everything looked so different that you could’ve been anywhere really.

“Well, your place is different than I remember,” you tried to joke as you walked into his apartment and he smiled at you slightly.

“Not that different,” he said and you raised your brows, looking around. You had to admit that it looked more….familiar than the tower, especially with the way Bucky decorated it, as if trying to capture a small part of old times. The record player at the corner of the living room made you bite inside your cheek as you remembered the last time you had played a song in his place, and crossed your arms, taking a look at the black and white photos.

“Are you hungry?”

You shook your head, then reached out to drag your fingertips over the smooth surface of the photo.

“Your family?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, “That’s uh…. That’s Becca. She’s in a nursing home now though.”

You could feel the burning at the back of your eyes, but managed to blink back the tears.

“I don’t think anyone I know is alive,” you mumbled, “Thomas, maybe. None of the girls.”

“We can check.”

“My line of work doesn’t really allow dying of old age,” you hesitated for a moment, “Or…didn’t.”

Bucky shook his head fervently, “You never have to do that again. Ever.”

You scoffed a bitter laugh, and pulled your gaze off the pictures.

“No Mrs. Barnes?” you asked him, “I’m not seeing any wedding pictures here.”

Bucky shook his head again, a laugh escaping from his lips.

“Yeah, this dame in 40s did a number on me.”

You tilted your head, shooting him a questioning look, “Seventy something years is a long time to mourn, Sarge.”

He heaved a shaky breath, as if he had missed hearing that in all those years and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I spent most of those years….”

“Brainwashed,” you finished his sentence “Damn it- right, sorry.”

“No it’s okay,” he said, “And when I became-well, myself again, I couldn’t….” he trailed off, “They told me you died, Y/N. When I was at the front. Couple of weeks before HYDRA got to me.”

“Yeah, General said he would do that,” a bitter taste appeared in your mouth, “So this HYDRA, if- if they did that to you, they did it to use you, to assassinate people. But I don’t think I-“ you frowned slightly, “What did they do to me?”

“They’re trying to crack the files back at the tower right now.”

“I’m sorry, crack the-?”

“Right,” he smiled, “Sorry. There’s a code on those files, and it can destroy them, so we’re trying to get it out without damaging any of the information.”

“Who’s we?”

“Steve and Sam are handling it right now. When he said that to you, did he…” his jaw clenched as he trailed off and you shook your head.

“He threatened me and I um- I lost consciousness, I woke up here.” You rubbed at your eyes, “Decades later- Jesus, this is fucked…”

“I know.”

“This shouldn’t be possible,” you lowered your hands, “I- I don’t even know what they did to me, and we’re here and you’re here and I-“ you could feel your breath getting caught in your throat as Bucky approached you the same way somebody would approach a feral but wounded animal, slowly and carefully, “I don’t even know how to survive here-“

“Darling, hey,” his voice was low, and he pulled you closer to himself to embrace you in his arms, letting you bury your nose into his shirt, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. “Just breathe, alright? We’re going to figure it out together, I promise you nothing bad will happen to you, not anymore, not ever.”

You nodded slowly, still holding onto him tight but pulled back when the doorbell rang. You tried to pull yourself together, wiping at your eyes before noticing his worried gaze on you.

“It’s okay,” you told him, “Really.”

He nodded and walked to the door,

“Wait, already?” you heard his voice as soon as he opened it and Sam and Steve walked inside.

“Yeah uh… we need to talk,” Sam said “To both of you.”

“What?” you asked him, “You- um- crashed the files?”

“Cracked.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “That. Did you?”

They exchanged glances with each other as Bucky grabbed the file from Steve to skim the lines, then froze, his glance snapping up to you. You let out an impatient breath, and snatched it out of his hands to take a look at what was written inside,

“The subject shows signs of manipulating others through desire-“ you murmured, and followed the lines with your finger before you reached the end, your heart beating in your ears as the anger filled your system.

“This is wrong,” you told them, “Must be. There’s been a mistake.”

“There were multiple video recordings,” Steve mumbled, “Whatever they gave you to experiment on you, it made you….enhanced.”

“Enhanced,” you repeated, “What the hell does that mean?”

“Whatever they did led to you gaining a specific power,” Sam said, “Just like Wanda. Just like other experiment subjects.”

“And my power is-“

“…They called you Seductress.” Steve muttered gently, as if trying his hardest to make it sound alright, “But apparently at a specific point, you almost escaped using your power, so they had to freeze you back.”

“I’m not-“ you stammered, “I don’t feel any different.”

“We don’t know what triggers it yet,” Steve said, “We just know it doesn’t work on other enhanced people. Probably doesn’t work on Bucky or me either, because of the serum.”

You felt as if you would throw up, then shook your head,

“I need a moment, excuse me.” You managed to say and walked out of the apartment, Steve stopping Bucky as soon as he attempted to follow you, muttering something to him about HYDRA. You made your way downstairs, then stepped out the door to inhale the cold weather, closing your eyes for a moment.

Seductress.

They had made you into something they could use, just like the others.

Just like everyone else in your life.

You opened your eyes again, shaking your head then a girl smoking a couple feet away from you captured your attention.

“Hey, could I get one?” you asked her and she nodded before you took a cigarette from her,

“Thanks.” You told her as she lit it, and exhaled the smoke while she walked away. The door opened and Sam stepped outside, then offered you a small smile.

“Can I join you?”

You shrugged slightly, then offered him the cigarette but he shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t use it.”

“Lucky you.” You said, staring into space and he cleared his throat.

“Rogers is in there trying to talk sense into your boyfriend.”

“Not possible but I appreciate the attempt,” you mumbled “Have you seen them?”

“Seen what?”

“The records.”

Sam shifted his weight, “Yeah. Some of them.”

“And what do I-“ you tried to blink back the tears, “What do I do?”

“Not what you’re thinking right now,” he said slowly, “The records that I saw, you… you just ordered a dude to do whatever you wanted. It’s like hypnosis, mostly. They just- listen to you.”

“Because of seduction.”

“Seductress is a weird way to put it, HYDRA isn’t very creative,”

You scoffed, “Yeah? What would you call me then?”

“Weird Hypnotic Chick.”

You tried to smile, then shook your head, looking elsewhere.

“Of all the things,” you muttered, “Of all the powers…. Decades later and I still can’t escape my past.”

“Yeah, not the best super power out there,” Sam agreed with you, “I’d pick super strength. Or super speed.”

“I’d be invisible.”

He turned to look at you, “What?”

“Yeah. I’d- if I could pick a superpower. Invisibility.”

“Why?”

You wiped at your nose, then exhaled the smoke again, “People would leave me alone then,” you mumbled, “I’d be able to escape people’s gaze, and I could- I could-“ you looked down at the cigarette, “I could escape from…seducing people. I don’t want it anymore.”

A silence fell upon you and Sam clicked his tongue,

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re really not my type.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter escaping from your lips and you turned to him, eyebrows raised,

“What?”

“You’re not my type. Sorry,” he held up his hands, “I know it’s tough to hear it but….facts.”

You already knew Sam would become one of your favorite people in the world, very fast.

“It is tough to hear it,” you nodded, still smiling, “Wow. I don’t know what to do now.”

“Yeah, aside from your terrible taste in men, and uh, smoking, and-“ he motioned at you, “Everything else, you also have weird elbows.”

You gawked at him for a couple of seconds, then burst into a laughter, clutching at your stomach. He chuckled, still keeping his eyes on you and you shook your head slightly as you threw the cigarette butt on the sideway.

“Thank you.” You said, “I uh… it means a lot.”

“Sure thing,” he told you, “So do you wanna stay here a bit longer to give him a heart attack? Because I totally support that.”

You scoffed, then shook your head again.

“Let’s go,” you nodded at the door, “I should learn more about my powers, I suppose.”

***

Well the future was…interesting for sure.

You still had no idea what triggered your powers, or how to catch up with the 21st century really, but at least you had Bucky.

Who looked like he was trying his hardest to maintain some distance from you.

It wasn’t that you expected everything to be the same, not after decades, but for you it felt as if it had been only couple of days since you had seen him in that wretched prison cell back in 40s and you were still together in a way.

Not that you could blame him. It was a long time after all.

But he still looked so handsome that he managed to make your heartbeat go crazy whenever he was anywhere near your sight. But throughout years, at least you had learned how to keep your desires hidden so while he, Sam and Steve talked about getting more information about your powers from the files that couldn’t be cracked yet, you kept your whole attention on the news you were currently reading on this electronic device Bucky called a tablet.

You had missed out so much in the last couple of decades.

“I mean when we find the trigger words it will be easier,” Sam said and Steve heaved a sigh.

“Tony is still working on it downstairs, but I was thinking Shuri could help. She did it before with you.”

Bucky nodded, “I’ll try to get in touch with her,” he said and turned to you, “Y/N?”

You looked up from the tablet, “Is this all real?”

“Hm?”

“These news, is this all real? Like everything I read in here, it’s happening?”

“Yeah.” Steve said and you scoffed.

“The world is a mess.”

“Oh yeah,” Sam muttered, “You’d be surprised.”

“Jesus Christ, how do people not feel bad after seeing all this?” you motioned at the tablet and Bucky thought for a moment.

“You get used to it,” he said, “Are you hungry? Dinner?”

“I’m not that hungry but I could eat.”

Bucky cleared his throat and stole a look at Steve who just shrugged.

“I’m not hungry-“

“It’s time for us to go,” Sam elbowed him before a look of realization dawned on Steve’s face.

“Right- Avengers thing.”

“Oh I can eat alone if you’re busy,” you told Bucky who shook his head fervently.

“I’m not busy.”

“Aren’t you a part of the team?”

“We got this, no worries.” Sam grinned and grabbed his jacket, “I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N.”

“Yeah, see you,” Steve said and you waved at them as they closed the door. You pressed your lips together and tilted your head at Bucky who looked almost embarrassed.

“That was very subtle,” you commented as he shifted his weight.

“Yeah I was hoping they wouldn’t make it that obvious,” he muttered, “I um- would you like to go out tonight?”

“Yeah,” you nodded fervently, “Sure thing. I was actually wondering how Brooklyn looks now, I saw some parts when I was in the car but…”

Bucky smiled and offered you his hand, making you let out a giggle as you took it and stood up.

“I think I know exactly where I should take you.”

***

To be perfectly honest, Bucky could’ve taken you anywhere and you would be happy with it as long as you were with him, but you had no idea where you were. After getting out of the car he had asked if you would want to walk around and of course you had said, thinking that you would get a sight of anything familiar, but there wasn’t any.

They had changed the whole city while you were frozen.

“Looks very different, doesn’t it?” Bucky asked and you shrugged slightly.

“I have no idea where we are,” you tilted your head to shoot him a mischievous look, “Are you kidnapping me Sarge?”

He scrunched up his nose, “You still don’t trust me huh?”

“Can’t be too careful.” You joked, and clicked your tongue, “So? Where are we then?”

He hmmed, “I will give you a clue.”

“Okay.”

“First date.”

You raised your brows, “The- the coffee house?”

“Before that.”

You narrowed your eyes for a moment before the thought crashed down on you and your jaw dropped before you turned around, looking up to see a clue of what this place used to be, but of course everything looked very modern.

“The ruins?” You heard your own breathless whisper and he smiled,

“The ruins,” he repeated, “The city got rid of the building or what was left of it about fifty years ago, but I tracked it down.”

“I didn’t think you would remember that,” you trailed off, “I thought you… with everything that happened-“

“I’d move on?”

“You’ve been keeping your distance since we learned about this HYDRA thing,” you admitted and his eyes snapped to yours before he took a deep breath,

“When I first came back,” he said, “I needed my space. I needed to figure out who I was, and I thought you- I thought it would be better if I didn’t pressure you into anything, not when you’re still adjusting.”

You could feel your heart melting as you tried to blink back tears and his eyes searched yours.

“And I’m still not pressuring you into anything,” he said, “I just- I need you to know. After decades, after HYDRA, after everything, I’m still in love with you. I always will be, and if you-“ he couldn’t say the rest of what he was going to say when you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against his. His palm cupped your cheek and pressed you closer to him, making you smile and that familiar warmth spread through your system before you pulled back slightly.

“Still a smooth talker, aren’t you Sarge?” you asked, making him chuckle and he stole another kiss from your lips.

“I try.”

You dragged your fingernails over the back of his neck gently, and heaved a sigh.

“But what about these powers?” you asked, “Are you sure they can- they can fix this? That I won’t put you or anyone else in danger?”

“Shuri is a genius,” he explained, “She helped me, and I’m sure she would help you. She’s the best.”

“You will be there though?” you insisted and he entwined his fingers with yours,

“Of course darling. As long as you want me to.”

You didn’t even try to hide the smile pulling at your lips, then took a deep breath and looked around.

“Let’s go back home.”

Bucky looked almost confused, “Don’t you want to eat first?”

“No, not really,” you said, “I want to do something else though.”

“What is that?”

As it turned out, Bucky was right all those years ago.

Maybe you would get to have your happy ending after all.

You grinned before you pulled him down for another kiss, and looked up at him before pulling him towards the car.

“Making new memories Sarge,” you said, “We have decades to make up for, don’t you think?”

THE END

@rhabakoli @rmwest94 @finnickfoxes @theskytraveler @asongofmarvelanddc @fictionwillneverdie @superwolfchild-fan @marauderskeeper @propertyofpoeandbucky @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lettersofwrittencollective @i-am-always-famished @small-round-and-angry @captstefanbrandt @flowers-in-your-hayr @geekandbooknerd @mamaraptor @j-finco @the-omni-princess @supercarricat @anxietysucks @fortisfiliae @stopitchris @nea90sweetie @theladybiers @aikeji @littledarlinhavefaithinme @marvelgirl7 @starkrobb @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @paramorefold @alytavzla @youclickedthislink @lexlikestoread @hangirl93 @bucky-5eva @thisyouth @xnnskwjeheb2j

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky imagines #bucky x reader #the winter soldier #untouchable

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sokkastyles · 3 years

Text

On Azula and Iroh’s relationship, I think their first meeting in the show says a lot.

Azula is calm when she appears to them in “The Avatar State.” Zuko is immediately on the defensive, and Azula’s response is this:

Azula: In my country, we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions. Have you become uncivilized so soon, Zuzu?

This is such classic gaslighting. Zuko has reason to be defensive but Azula brushes him off and then accuses him of being “uncivilized,” which is picking at an obvious sore spot, the fact that Zuko has been banished and hasn’t been home for three years. In the previous scene right before this one Zuko was lamenting the three year anniversary and the things he’s lost, which emphasizes to the audience how far he has fallen, from prince to exile. So Azula’s words are an insult veiled to sound reasonable and invalidate Zuko’s emotional reaction to seeing her. And then she uses a nickname that she knows will further provoke him to anger, which just reinforces the idea that she’s the logical one and Zuko is being irrational.

Zuko: Don't call me that!

Iroh: To what do we owe this honor?

Azula: Hmmm ... must be a family trait. Both of you so quick to get to the point. [Breaks the shell she was holding with her fingertips, leaving Iroh angry.] I've come with a message from home. Father's changed his mind. Family is suddenly very important to him. He's heard rumors of plans to overthrow him; treacherous plots. Family are the only ones you can really trust. Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home. Did you hear me? You should be happy. Excited. Grateful. I just gave you great news.

Iroh: I'm sure your brother simply needs a moment.

Azula: [Furiously.] Don't interrupt, Uncle!

Azula gets the reaction she wanted from Zuko because she knows how to play him. She intentionally riles him up and then gives him a speech which she knows is what he wants to hear (which is a complete fabrication) about how their father wants him home. I’m also pretty sure she knew that he would react to this news the way he does, although she acts like she’s surprised when he doesn’t know how to respond. Everything she says is designed to leave him confused, and then while he’s trying to process the information, she tells him how he should feel about it. You should be happy. I just gave you great news.

But here’s the thing: Azula may know how to manipulate her brother but she can’t do the same thing with Iroh. What she does instead is this:

I think her reaction here is really interesting, and so is Iroh’s. The transcript says that Iroh is angry but in the screencap he looks shocked, and in the scene in real time he has the above shocked expression, which quickly changes to narrowed eyes, and I think describing his reaction as “anger” doesn’t really do it justice. What he looks like is someone who has just recognized a threat.

Which of course is what it was. More specifically, I think it was a threat directed at Iroh. Azula never really seems to see Zuko as a threat, here or anywhere else. She is often dismissive of him, and here as well she talks to him in a condescending but cool manner. The only times she gets emotional is when she is talking to Iroh, and she reacts with anger towards him. Breaking the shell was especially directed at Iroh because it was Iroh to whom the shells belonged, who valued them.

Azula came to them unannounced because she wanted to catch them off guard, and she gets the desired effect from Zuko, but Iroh, although his tone is clearly not friendly when he greets her, is polite and calm. She can’t get him emotional the way she can with Zuko, she can’t confuse or manipulate him. She can’t control him, and she hates that.

For Iroh’s part, I think his initial reaction to Azula breaking the shell is one of shock at the sudden violence of her action. Remember that Iroh has not seen Azula for three years, and although I think he didn’t have any illusions about her before (he was sitting right beside her when she smiled at her brother’s burning during the agni kai) this is a pretty direct threat. Azula may have been a cruel child before but now she’s someone with power over both of them who is delivering some subtle (or not so subtle) threats that Iroh is picking up on. Even what she says in her speech to Zuko where she makes it sound like she’s being generous contains some veiled threats which I think are directed at Iroh. Treacherous plots...family are the only ones you can trust. And we of course know that the real reason Ozai sent Azula was to capture Zuko, the failure, and Iroh, the traitor. This is the first episode of book two, right after the finale in which Iroh directly attacked Fire Nation officers in defense of the enemy. Zuko doesn’t pick up on it but what Azula is saying to Iroh is clear...I know what you did.

And then when Iroh responds after Azula tells Zuko that he should be grateful towards her, calmly and rationally suggesting that Zuko needs a moment (which is the opposite of what Azula wants, because Azula does not want Zuko to take a moment to think, she wants to convince him to think what she wants him to think), this is the first time she actually breaks her collected exterior and gets angry. She’s furious, and she accuses Iroh of interrupting, in an outburst that is so sudden because it’s so unlike what we usually see from Azula.

I think Azula knew that Iroh wasn’t going to buy the lie from the beginning, and I think she knew he was the main obstacle to getting Zuko to walk into her trap. This is why in this scene and subsequent scenes she is dismissive of Iroh but also, specifically after this episode, she knows that she needs to separate Iroh from Zuko in order to get Zuko where she wants him, which is what she is able to do in “The Crossroads of Destiny.”

#iroh #azula #zuko #atla meta #the avatar state

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fenheart87 · 4 years

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Trading Circle of Hell

@semi-slaughtomatic happy belated birthday doll! I will be cross posting to AO3 later as well but I wanted to get this out there now that its done!

-start-

"Welcome welcome! Females to the left and males to the right! Look for anyone with a purple butterfly mask to make your purchase or ask for more information on our unique invenitory! Rumor has it our esteemed kings shall be here today, make your selection quick for I fear even I wouldn't dare say no to them...."

Viperion scanned the room in disgust, cages with humans, demons, various kinds of fae and more supernaturals were lined and spaced very strategically. Only one or two people could view a 'selection' at a time and there were plenty to choose from.

"This is not what I was expecting." Chat Noir spoke up, teeth bared in rage at what he was seeing. They had been tipped off there was an underground market, an illegal one even by demon standards, and here was the proof right in front of their eyes.

"Easy Plagg, we have time to browse and choose carefully from the... Inventory."

"Yeah yeah Sass, kumbyyah and all. I want one with spirit."

"I want one with some brains, the traps keep killing people." Sass responded, sharing a smirk with his companion and drawing his hood closer to his face. The last thing they needed was for someone to recognize them as they were investigating this horrid black market before they could shut it down. The problem with the recon mission was that they needed to be stealthy and being the Snake and Black Cat made them the best choice, even if they had more favorable morals and senses of justice within them unlike many other demons. It was the secret that made them good rulers and their following loyal to them and them alone.

"Welcome gentleman! Forgive me I have spent too much time topside lately, is there anything specific you happen to be looking for? Someone for manual labor or more physical labor in the place of rest?" The Showrunner as he chose to title himself wisely decided to not touch either of them like he had for many of the other buyers.

"I need someone with a firey spirit and tough enough to withstand the Hell Fires."

"Oh, you must live under our illustrious leader Chat Noir then, pray tell would a dragon suffice good sir?" Beady eyes were shining in glee as Plagg exchanged a glance with Sass.

"Depends on the age and gender, perhaps you can direct me where I could find such one?"

"Of course, in the front row at the very end of the left side. A Longg follower that is quite the spirited miss. And for you fellow good sir?"

"I need someone smart and cunning, quick as a mouse if you will,"

"Ah I wish we could've acquried a Mullo follower but alas not this round... I do however have a special quiet thing that could fit the bill if you're interested?"

"Perhaps, show me your inventory and I may still need to browse, I have other stations that could be filled if I do not find someone to my liking." Sass followed the leader and hid his disgust with all of his being, he wanted nothing more than to poison the man with a quick strike. The cages had various states of captured folk in various stages of distress or anger, the collars adorning their necks were equipped to restrain their unique talents and powers, preventing any type of escape from their cages. Guards and hired demons of lower levels were mingling around the crowd should someone get lucky enough to successfully escape from behind the bars.

"Here we have a pretty little thing but awfully quiet. she does have a voice but her glare usually speaks for her, I have had some issues with one so she is at a discounted price, only 150 thousand."

Sass raised a brow at the price, many of the others were easily going for ten times as much for a starting bid. Either she was too much to handle for the ring leader or she was damaged in some way. Finally looking at the cage, his breath caught. He would know those blue eyes anywhere and was glad that his self control was damn good. Her resemblance to her parents was uncanny, even if they had not been seen by a single eye in over 200 years.

"She's a looker but anyone who dares to get too close suffers, unless that's your type of ah, fun shall we say?"

"I'll take her, she'll make an excellent addition to the baker's guild. If she turns out she can't bake well, I'm sure she could plead to Tikki for help before she became the next meal."

"Very well, as with everyone else I'll collect the payment before the next round and after inventory has been checked and secured, you can take it home with you. If anything else catches your eye, please let me know." With that, the Showman left to prey on other prospective buyers and Sass glanced around, noticing only a few other demons looking at the few cages with interest. It was safe enough he supposed.

"Tell me little one, do you like sweets or cheese?" Pulling carefully on his power, he let flow enough to touch his eyes, making them turn mint green and seeing her eyes flash a pale pink, drawing a gasp from that luscious mouth. "So you are a true Mullo follower then."

"Snake." She murmured and smiled sweetly, eyes flashing once more.

"Black cat is here too, the Longg follower is coming with us and this place is done for." Sass whispered, directing his gaze towards the other side where he could see Plagg was prowling and looking at everything with a calculating gaze, casing the entire space.

"Kagami?" She whispered so softly he nearly missed it, drawing his attention and she flushed pink as she shrunk down.

"Well then, even better. Plagg, if you're ready I am. Nothing else has caught my interest."

"Good, let's find the Showman and collect." The green of his iris was gleaming, a yellow tint coloring them acid and the barely concealed rage shining. Their aura made everyone scurry away from their path as they followed the twists and turns through the cages.

"Ah, is there a problem, good sirs?" The Showman was on guard, eyes narrowed and watching carefully for any signs of aggression.

"Ah, he's a devout follower of Lord Viper himself, very covetous this one is. Terribly sorry but it would be in everyone's best interest if we were to collect and leave the place in one piece." Plagg smiled, fangs fully on display which kicked up the tension a few notches.

"Ah we can certainly make an exception but the prices do change for those in a hurry to get to the breaking in part. Do you have your own collars for your purchases?"

"Now now, it's not nice to insult paying customers, good sir." A black gloved hand produced two simple collars, the scent of ash faintly stirring the air.

"Ah, this way then." With a couple of gestures, two lizard demons who posed at security moved through the crowds and collected the cages, going down a different hallway then the trio did. The lanterns glowed eerily with the Hell Fire flames, Plagg and Sass having to bite back their power to prevent a surge in the flames and revealing themselves to the scum they were forced to follow.

"Alright, very simple to do. I'll deactivate the collars and you can place yours, once secure then I'll remove the standard ones. Precautions you know…"

Sharing a glance they split and stood in front of their chosen. The slimey demon brought over two charged stem crystals and with a small fizz of power the collars were deactivated. Sass noted the little mouse seemed upset but not scared as expected, carefully he stepped closer and leaned down slightly to secure the 'collar', a small whisp of smoke puffed to signal the lock was in place. Taking the other charged stem, the Showman waved it nearby and the slave collars fell off into his hands.

"Thank you for your time and interest gentleman, enjoy your investments!" Waving them to follow one of the guards and the other bringing up the rear, the four made their way out of the illegal catacombs market. Continuing on for a few tense miles until they were sure the guards had indeed returned, they stopped.

"Alright, introductions! I would happen to be Chat Noir, ruler of all the darkness and destruction. For stealth purposes please refer to me as Plagg."

"Viperion, Lord of Time and Incubi. Code name Sass."

"Kagami, a devout Longg follower. I work under the name Ryuoko." The dragon dusted herself off nonchalantly, eyes piercing in their intent to gage how much of a threat the two lords were.

"Multimouse, a converted Mullo follower." Viperion ignored the sly grin and everything that it said from his fellow demon lord.

"So what's the plan?" Ryuoko asked, smirking.

"Well, do what we do best…" Blue eyes turned a shimmering green and emerald green took on an acid yellow green shine.

"Destroy those who break the Seven Hells contract." Each collar shifted into a choker, a reaction to the sudden leak of power from demon lords, this would boost both female demon's powers as well as protect them. The time of reckoning was at hand.

#marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #lukanette #miraculous lb #miraculous fanfic #miraculous au #miraculous ladybug #Fen's Plunny Corner

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

Text

Telekinesis

Summary: a reddie x daughter where she has powers? maybe that when IT died his powers went to her in the form of like maybe telekinesis or sum and she tells them when all the losers are together and they don’t believe her at first so she shows them? kinda lame but i thought it’d be cool

Another book, another disappointment, another opportunity wasted. Mike’s library was empty, both from it being after-hours as it being located in Derry, and the only light Rachel has is the obstructed street lights, eluding to an eerie feeling of impending doom and death, a real life horror movie.

The lights inside the building had to be turned off, because Rachel’s parents, Eddie and Richie, were not allowed to have any clue that she’s in here in the first place. Unlike last time she snuck into the place and got nabbed on by the woman taking over Mike’s job while he’s away on holidays, she was now determined to emerge herself in every book hidden in the smallest gap until she found a solution to her problem.

See, coming to Derry, roughly two years ago now, had unveiled a lot of things about her dads. Those nights as a child fearfully disclosing that a monster housed under her bed, a little child’s imagination, but her dads reacted so fierce without them assimilating why suddenly made a lot more sense. Their monster, a clown hellbent on destroying their lives and everything they had built, using incomprehensible powers and abilities to do so, defeated on its own turve, wasted away on the perspective that no one wasn’t afraid of it any longer, withered away with one last trick up its sleeve. A last gift to the youngest member of the losers club.

Her hands curl around the pages with upmost precision, attentive not to rip the age-old pages from the rug. The typing circulates, switching letters in front of her until the words all lose their meaning and Rachel rests her eyes for a brief second. She’s been at it for hours, exchanging book after book, futile. The pages provided no more research then the internet had, the only search result being that of movies with ‘mutant powers’, or stories about the mentally deranged.

Rachel yells out in frustration, and the current book she’s devouring soars across the room, the book disintegrating and several pages scattering around.

‘Ow come on. But when I actually try to make something happen you don’t do anything.’

Discovering you have supernatural abilities, more specifically telekinesis in her case, is not as cracked up as the movies portray it, Rachel’s disclosing herself. After leaving Derry she didn’t even notice something off about her, hyped up on adrenaline, the real shock only showed when she dropped a photo frame and extended her hand, stopping it midair without touching the picture in any way.

She’d conjured the experience to a trick of the light, and paranoia embedded after Pennywise, but then the same thing occurred again but a few days later, a painting skidding from its nail in the wall and cracking the floor. The experience was bizarre, as Rachel vibrated with indignation the moment it happened, worked up on an assignment for school and as she reached for a pillow to muffle her screams of vexation, the painting bustled and sank down.

Then she knew for sure that something was going on. The first trip to Mike’s library, the only place Rachel could think off holding any of the answers she was desperate to find, forlorn as it might be, ended up unavailing, caught to fast to locate any books in the subject matter in the first place, but it made Rachel just more committed. So what if she’s technically not allowed to be in here? She’s sure that if she asked uncle Mike for his keys he would hand them over without a sliver of hesitation.

‘There has to be a book about this stuff right? How in the world did uncle Mike found the artifact from the 1800 if there was no book telling him where to go?’

Rachel sits up from her position on the floor, alleviating the strain on her legs, too unbothered and eager for information to keep going back and forth from the table to the shelf's and stretches, her joints popping and sliding back in place. She idly traces the spines of the ancient old books, pondering to herself about the titles.

She’d have to come back here someday, when she’s no longer pursued by the strange things she’s capable of doing out of the blue, because some of these books really peek her interest. But no book on the subject she’s looking for.

‘Okay please universe. You fucked me over enough already can you give me a break?’ If the universe is listening, it’s doing nothing but mocking her.

‘Rachel Maggie Kaspbrak-Tozier. What do you think you’re doing young lady? We told you to stay at the Inn while we cleaned up pops house. Now all the losers are are the hunt for you.’ Her dad’s low pitched voice criticized, belonging to a ticked off Eddie Kaspbrak, accompanied by Richie, of course Rachel can never only get in trouble with one parent, and Mike, the keys dangling from his hand.

Richie mounts the words; ‘Oeh someone’s in trouble’, face half pinched in stress and the other in pure and uninhabited mirth.

Fingers flipping her pops off, their own love languages, Eddie scowl turns up a notch, and Rachel abandons ship, changing her course and demonstrating her most conniving angel face.

Eddie and Richie near her, hugging her so tight her ribs creak, their labored breath only now picked up on by their daughter.

‘Don’t you ever’, Eddie threatens, dislodging himself away from their bear pile to survey Rachel with full conviction. ‘Do that to us again. Not anywhere, but especially not in Derry.’

Richie dots a kiss on her forehead, his arm capturing Eddie back into a clasp, the memory of Pennywise nearly swallowing his daughter whole tattooed in his brain.

‘What are you even doing in here? Don’t tell me my genes created someone who likes to learn? School stuff?’ Richie spits the words school like they leave a bad taste in his mouth, ‘Eddie, love of my life, did you have an affair on me?’

‘Richie focus, that’s so not the point. And no you idiot. I’d never do that to you.’

‘I’m hunting for a book’, Rachel informs, withholding part of truth as there’s no way she’s adding her problems on the pile of stress stacked upon Richie and Eddie’s lives.

Her pops trial only recently ended and her dad found a new job doing something he actually likes to do, and their lives are starting to clear up for once. Rachel was not about to add another card to the card house and watch it spring apart.

‘On what?’ Eddie asks suspiciously, one eyebrow creased as he observes his daughter, on the lookout for her telltale sign that’s she’s lying.

‘Witchcraft? It’s for school.’ Rachel trails off, her voice sounding questioningly to her own ears. Richie scrutinizes her, much more on guard and attentive then he gives himself credit for, but Mike, sickly sweet but a little tone deaf on the vibe in the room says; ‘Those books are upstairs in my special cabinet because they kept getting stolen, do you want me to go get them?’

Rachel’s flicks her eyes to the ceiling, grumbling under her breath with all the time that went to waste, then glancing back at Mike and kindly nodding her head. ‘That would be great, thank you uncle Mike.’

As he takes off to find the books, Richie and Eddie exchange puzzling peeks, doing their silent communication that drives Rachel crazy not being able to figure out what they’re saying.

‘Why would you need to write an assignment on witchcraft? Since when is that in the curriculum these days? Hey Eds we would have rocked that, we knew all about it.’ Richie inquires, excitingly jolting Eddie to go along with his story.

‘Since I got a new teacher who’s very interested in that stuff.’

‘Are you sure everything is okay? You’ve been acting weird for the past few weeks and I didn’t want to say anything or push you but I’m worried.’ Eddie asks, troubled trying to balance things in his life. He wants to keep prodding his daughter to know what’s wrong with her and to help her, but he’d rather die then turn out like his mother, and sometimes Eddie fears his lines are blurred.

‘Yeah, I’ve noticed it too’, Richie agrees, serious as the topic calls for it. ‘Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell us.’

‘No I can’t, you won’t believe me.’

‘Sweetheart, we murdered a clown eating little kids and feeding off their fears, there’s nothing in the world that you can say that will prevent us from believe you.’

‘Okay fair,’ Rachel trails off apprehensive still, ‘but I don’t want to force additional stress on you guys, we’ve already had so much of that lately.’

‘Little me, if this is about the trial I’m really fucking sorry for putting you through that, but hoeza’, he jazzed hands towards himself, ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never go anywhere either.’

Bursting into tears, Rachel inches closer to her pops and eases herself under his chin, her dad crams up against her side. ‘It’s not, but I’m really grateful for that pops. Promise you’ll believe me and won’t ship me off anywhere?’

‘What? Never. Nothing you’ll confess will ever make us regret you being born.’ Eddie says with vindication. ‘Absolutely nothing.’ The truth is Rachel is getting really tired of the secret she’s storing away, and she’s scared too. Terrified that someday she might accidentally hurt someone, or scared that she’s going to wake up one day and not perceive who she is.

‘I have telekinesis and I think it’s because of IT,’ she breathes out, tensing in her parents grasp as she waits for their reaction. It’s a peculiar statement to preach, but Rachel didn’t think her pops would flat out laugh at her, a reserved giggle that stops abruptly when Eddie mimes his lips shut.

‘What do you mean?’ Eddie asks cautiously.

‘You don’t believe me do you?’

‘It’s not about believing you sweetheart, it’s just where is this is all coming from? Wait, is this a prank you and Richie did to trick me? If so Pennywise is off limits so knock it off.’

‘Eds no-‘

‘No it’s not a prank, I’m serious.’ Rachel underscores, schlepping away from the both of them.

‘Bug, I don’t-‘

‘No, I’ll prove it.’

‘Okay’, Richie agrees trepidation, same as Eddie.

Rachel tries really hard, focusing all her energy and mind on levitating the same book she send flying across the room mere minutes ago, her fist balling and her face blushing in effort, but nothing occurs. Previous times this was the case too, it only happens when she’s focusing on something else, not the task at hand.

Richie snorts, assured that it’s a prank and he’s played by his own daughter, which usually wouldn’t be so far off, but this time it boils rage up under Rachels skin.

‘Stop laughing, I’ve been struggling with this for so long and all you do is laugh at me?’ Rachel grounds out, genuinely hurt that neither of her fathers take the time to listen to her.

Three things follow each other in rapid speed. The first is that Mike descends down the stairs, carrying two books, dustier than the town of Derry itself, and waving them around proudly. ‘I found them, I hope two is enough?’

The second is that the door to the library jingles, and the remaining pack of the losers walks in, and the third is the table starts vibrating, anger pulsing in Rachel’s veins having her focused on something else.

Eddie and Richie stare at the table in shock, their mouths agape as they switch to look between the table and their daughter.

‘Rachel?’

The table is ripped from the handles and jets over two shelf's of the library, landing right in front of the losers’ feet, all of them staring in bewilderment.

‘What the hell is going on in here?’

‘Mike, I think we’re going to need a lot more books.’

#reddie #reddie x daughter #my writing #Richie x Eddie #richie tozier imagine #eddie kaspbrak imagine #richie as a dad #eddie as a dad #richie as a parent #eddie as a parent #other losers are mentioned #mike hanlon

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kutemouse · 4 years

Note

Hey! Can i have vampire au with jimin please? No smut just fluffy :*

Hey ARMY, listen up! See this??? ⬇️👇 ⬇️👇 ⬇️👇 ⬇️👇 ⬇️👇 ⬇️

I made and edited this gif. In fact, I make and/or edit a lot of the gifs I use myself. You may have noticed that I use the tag #btsgif in some of my posts, even if they contain writing. That’s because I want ARMY to see all of my creations, including the gif I make as a header. Therefore, I think the tag is relevant.

In addition, not only do I want ARMY to see my gifs, I want to encourage ARMY to use them. Yep, that’s right! Feel free to steal this gif, I just ask you give me credit for the edit. After all, it’s not even my content I make/edit the gifs from, it’s obviously the property of BigHit and BTS.

However, in the future, I will be sure to be very specific in my posts, and post a disclaimer that I’m not just using the tag for clout, I’m using it so ARMY can find the gif I made and use it however they like. It’ll look something like this:

Disclaimer: This gif was made and/or edited by me, kutemouse. That is why I’ve posted this under the tag #btsgif. Feel free to use this gif however you want, just give me credit for the edit.

Hopefully this way, the 🚨tumblr police🚨 will leave my kute ass alone. Okies? Everyone happy? Good.

And with that out of the way, let’s continue on to this request. When it came in, it made me a tad apprehensive because it gave me a CHALLENGE, kutie anon. I mean, fluffy vampires? Fluffy JIMIN vampire? I’ve only written brooding, mysterious, playboy Jimin vamp in my book “Cursed,” so I had to take a couple days and really think about how I could make this work. I hope you like what came out of my brain. Much 💜 to you for challenging me in new ways, therefore improving my writing 😊

Disclaimer: Beauty and the Beast belongs to Disney, just in case 😉

Age Recommendation: 16+

Warnings: Swearz for dayz. A bit of angst. Vamp Jimin being extra. Soobin from TxT magically appears. A little bit o’ flirting.

Word Count: 2,845

Summary: You’re an artist trying to obtain a university degree. One day, you get the strangest phone call asking you for the strangest commission you’ve ever had: Come live with this rich recluse and paint his portrait all summer. What could go wrong?

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Summer Portraits (Jimin One-Shot, Fluff, Vampire) Part One

You looked up at the large house, a feeling of intimidation creeping over you. It just looked dark, even in the bright sunlight, and most, if not all, of the windows were covered. What kind of person lived here of all places? In the middle of nowhere? Seems pretty sketch.

You’d gotten the call last week. “We’ll pay you a handsome commission,” the smooth voice said. “And we’ll cover the costs of travel.”

You pressed the phone closer to your ear. “That sounds great, Mr. Choi, but… it’s still a strange request.”

The voice on the other end chuckled. “Yes, well… Mr. Park is the very definition of strange, Miss L/n.”

Mr. Choi was very clear in his proposal. You’d spend the three months of your summer with this man, living in his house, to paint a series of portraits for him. As many as you could get done in three months. You initially found the request absolutely ridiculous. Give up your entire summer? No way. You already had plans to see friends and family, and were keen to get away from the stresses that University brought. However, the request became more interesting as Mr. Choi described how you would have to sign a non-disclosure agreement and not tell anyone where you were going or what you were doing. That piqued your interest. Who was it? A celebrity? A famous CEO? An idol?

Looking at the large, foreboding mansion, you couldn’t see any of those three living here. The place reeked of old money. This estate had probably been passed down through the generations, and now someone, likely a young heir, was keen to stretch the limits of what ridiculous things their money could buy.

Sighing, you stepped onto the porch and rang the doorbell. It clanged through the house loudly and you cringed, thinking maybe you should’ve knocked. A tall guy dressed in a suit and tie cracked it open. “L/n Y/n?” he asked.

“That’s me,” you said.

He stepped out onto the porch. “I’m Choi Soobin,” he said, bowing. “Please, come inside. I’ll show you to your room.”

“Thanks.”

Soobin was much younger than you imagined. He couldn’t be more than nineteen, at the most. Yet he acted well beyond his years, more refined, more mature. It was disconcerting to say the least. Soobin picked up your bags and led the way up the curving staircase. You both went down a hall, then turned right, then down another hall before he stopped at the third door on his left. “Here we are,” he murmured, pushing it open.

Your mouth fell open. The room was large, spacious, gorgeous, and surprisingly modern. The walls were painted a soothing lavender, your favorite color, and the king-size bed was covered in a matching coverlet and pillows. There was even a couch and television, and a large bay window filled with pillows that looked out onto the grounds. A perfect reading nook. “This is your closet and bathroom,” Soobin said, opening a set of double doors. The closet was humongous and chic, with plenty room for your clothes and then some, and the bathroom looked more like a full-out spa. It was like something you’d only seen on TV.

Soobin strode over to the other side of your bedroom and opened another door. “This leads to your studio,” he said. Your mouth fell open once more as you walked through. The space was open and had so much light, you had to squint from the sudden brightness. There were shelves upon shelves of supplies, everything you’d ever need, stacks of blank canvases, and a large, wooden easel. It was like an artist’s wet dream.

“This is amazing,” you breathed.

Soobin grinned. “It is, isn’t it? Mr. Park wanted to make sure you’d have everything you need. If you run out of supplies, please let me know, I’ll order more. Feel free to make a mess. The floors are a cheap vinyl flooring only made to look like wood. We’ll rip it out and put carpet back in once you depart.”

You nodded, amazed at the way Soobin said that so casually. Not everyone could afford to re-carpet on a whim. Did your benefactor really have that much money? “Dinner’s at seven every evening,” Soobin continued. “Don’t be late, and dress in something other than jeans, please. For your other two meals, you may have them whenever you like, just give me ample time to prepare them. There’s plenty of food in the kitchen, feel free to help yourself to a snack. You may go wherever you like in the house, except the west wing. Mr. Park lives on that side and spends most of his time there, and unless you are specifically invited, I’d prefer you not disturb him.”

“S-Sounds good,” you stuttered. Who was this guy anyways, the Beast?

“Now, Mr. Park is waiting for you in his study. You’ll probably paint a few of his portraits there, is that alright? Or do you need to work in your studio?”

“I can work anywhere,” you replied.

“Perfect. Let’s go.”

Soobin led the way through the various hallways until you stopped at a set of dark wooden doors with intricate carvings in them. He knocked and pushed one open. “Jimin hyung?” he asked. “She’s here.”

A chair behind a desk turned to reveal the most handsome man you’d ever seen. Like Soobin, he was much younger than you’d imagined. His skin was pale, making his dark hair stand out in stark contrast. It was parted on the right, and his bangs hung over his left eye giving him a mischievously sultry look. He wore a bright jacket with a pattern of palm trees over a black dress shirt, dark ripped jeans, and black boots. His full, rosy lips were too perfect to be true, and his tawny eyes smoldered as they looked you over.

“Welcome!” he said brightly, holding out his hands and grinning. His eyes disappeared into cute crescent-moon slits. “I’m Park Jimin, but you can just call me Jimin. I’ve been waiting so long for this day, Y/n.”

Your mouth parted in surprise. Well, that’s not at all what you were expecting. And you were already on first-name basis…?

“Shall we get started?” he asked eagerly.

You closed your mouth and nodded. “Uh, sure. But I’ll need my supplies…?”

“Of course, of course. Come, I’ll sit in your studio for today.”

He wrapped your fingers in his and led you back down the hall to your studio, swinging your hands as you went. “What the hell?” you thought. To say Jimin was the opposite of what you were expecting was an understatement. The house screamed dark and brooding, as did his weird butler/servant person, and the mysterious circumstances under which you were brought. Yet Jimin was nothing but smiles and sunshine.

“Ah, here we are,” he said, pushing the door open to your studio. He got a stool from the corner and sat on it. You set everything up, placing a blank canvas on the easel and choosing a couple different colors of paint from the shelves. Soobin slipped through the door, hands behind his back, silently watching.

“How do you want me to pose?” Jimin asked, crossing his legs. “And smiling, not smiling?”

“Well, that depends on how you want the portrait to turn out,” you replied. “So just pose… however you want.”

“Better do not smiling,” he said. “For the first one at least. I want a range of my facial expressions, seeing as how I haven’t seen them for over thirty years now.”

“Sir,” Soobin said, a tone of warning in his voice.

Jimin waved him off. “Please, she’s signed a non-disclosure agreement. She’s fine.”

You were taken aback by the strange exchange, but shook your head, brushing it off. Whatever they were talking about didn’t concern you. You were here to do a job, get paid, and move back home without incident. Nothing more, nothing less.

You cleared your throat as you took a drawing pencil and started sketching out what you wanted to paint. What you really desired was to capture the way his hair swept over his eyes, the mischievous look he wore, and those gorgeous lips turned up in a smirk.

“You can feel free to move a little if you’re uncomfortable,” you said to Jimin who sat as rigid as a statue.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I can sit still for quite a long time. Years, in fact. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“Right, years,” you muttered as you continued sketching. This guy could really exaggerate.

You found you were enjoying yourself as you continued doing what you loved. This was why you became an art major. The bright, airy light, the way your pencil slid across the canvas, the only sound being that of your breathing as you inhaled and exhaled. It was perfect.

“So, how old are you?”

You blinked in surprise. “Twenty-three, almost twenty-four.”

“I expected as much. I look twenty-four, but I’m actually nearing my two-hundredth birthday.”

You scoffed a little at Jimin’s proclamation. “What, are you some kind of immortal?” you asked.

“Actually, yes,” he answered, actually serious.

You moved out from behind the canvas to give him an incredulous look. “Oh, I see. The scary mansion, the brooding butler… I get it.”

Jimin tossed a smile at you, biting his lip as he did so. “You do? Oh, I’m glad. I’m so tired of having to hide what I am.”

You snorted and kept sketching, trying to capture that irksome smirk he was giving you. “Whatever, dude. If you wanna pretend you’re immortal or some sort of metaphor, I say go for it. I’m just here to paint and get paid.”

Jimin tilted his head. “It’s not a metaphor,” he said, a trace of hurt in his voice.

“Sure it’s not,” you muttered. You were beginning to see why your commission was so high. You were sketching Jimin’s torso now, trying to capture the lines of his toned waist and the palm trees embedded on his jacket. He certainly chose an interesting outfit for his first portrait sitting.

“I’ve seen your work online,” Jimin said, still trying to make small talk. You rolled your eyes. You kind of wished he wouldn’t. Part of the magic of painting was the silence it brought. The most sound you allowed while you worked was a bit of soft music in the background.

He continued even though you didn’t answer. “It’s very good. That’s why I chose you, you know.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” you said. “It’s hard trying to be an artist and make a living, unfortunately.”

“I understand that. I knew Da Vinci back in the day, and he always said-”

“Done,” you said loudly, interrupting him. You could flesh out the colors with paint later. Right now, all you wanted to do was get away from this insanity.

“Already?” Jimin said, pouting.

“Yes. I mean, it’s not all finished of course. I can do the rest later. I just need to take a photo real quick.”

Jimin chuckled. “You can try.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled out your phone and aimed your camera at him still posing on the stool. “Alright, I’ll get-”

You stopped short as your finger hovered over the screen. There was the stool placed in front of the window, but Jimin was missing from it. “The hell…?” you muttered. You closed your camera app and reopened it.

Once again, there was the window, the stool, the floor, everything in the background that was supposed to be there… but no Jimin. “You see, Y/n,” Jimin said, standing up and walking slowly towards you. “That’s precisely why I brought you here. As a vampire, I don’t show up in photos, or even in mirrors. I haven’t seen what my face looks like in nearly thirty years. That was the last time I had my portrait done.”

You backed away from him until your back hit some shelves behind you. Jimin reached out and tenderly wrapped a strand of your hair between his fingers. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his eyes hooded and dark.

You, however, were fucking terrified. In all your years of artwork, you’ve obviously never, ever encountered someone, no, something, like Park Jimin. “Wh-What the fuck are you?” you stuttered.

Jimin sighed, grasping the shelf behind you. “I told you, Y/n, I’m a vampire.”

“N-No, that’s not possible, they don’t exis-”

“Exist? Am I not proof to the contrary?”

“Please,” you whispered, a tear leaking out of the corner of your eye.

“Shhhhh,” Jimin said. He stroked your cheek, wiping the tear away, and you shut your eyes, tensing up at his touch. “I’m not going to hurt you. That’s not why you’re here.”

“And will I be allowed to leave when I’m done?”

Jimin frowned. “Of course. Y/n, I think you misunderstand my intentions. I don’t want to drink your blood or keep you prisoner or anything. Besides, even if you did go home and tell people, who would believe you?”

You considered his words. What he said was true. Even your closest friends and family members would think you were crazy. That thought, however, didn’t help you feel any less frightened.

What did ease your feelings was the tender gaze Jimin was giving you. He didn’t look like he intended to hurt you, although his close proximity was making you uncomfortable. You stepped out of his grasp and held up your hands. “I just… I need a moment,” you said.

“Of course.”

Soobin bowed as you exited the room and ran down the hall, holding a hand over your mouth to keep the screams from coming out. Was it possible? Was every nightmare you had, every scary story, real? You stopped once you reached the top of the stairs, bending over and panting.

You sat on the stairs and curled your knees up to your chest. What the hell were you thinking? You should just run out the door and never look back. Still, something was stopping you. Maybe it was sheer curiosity, or maybe it was how you couldn’t get the way he looked at you out of your brain. Either way, it couldn’t lead to anything but disaster.

“If you want to leave, you may,” a voice said. You looked up to see Jimin walking towards you.

“I’ll think about it,” you muttered, turning away from him.

“Please don’t hate me,” he begged, reaching out. You shied away from him, and he withdrew his hand, closing it into a fist. “Once people find out what I am, they just stereotype and assume. All I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is for someone to accept me.”

You let out a shaky breath and finally looked at him, into those smoldering tawny eyes. “I’ll stay and paint your portraits… but on my terms. Don’t touch me, don’t come near me, and I need some guarantee of protection.”

Jimin thought for a moment, pressing a finger to his chin, before pulling something out of his pocket. It was a small velvet bag that clinked as he brought it out. “Here.” He grabbed your hand and turned it so your palm was upright. He dumped what was in the bag in your hand.

You stared incredulously at the coins in your hand. “The hell is this?”

“Protection,” Jimin replied seriously, his eyes wide as they looked at you. “Silver. It burns me.”

Your mouth dropped open before you laughed out loud, completely overwhelmed by the entirety of the situation. The corners of Jimin’s mouth went up, but he looked mostly confused as he watched you laugh, arms folded over your stomach. You laughed until you cried, wiping your tears away and sniffing once your giggles had subsided.

“Are you done?” he asked pointedly.

“Yes,” you muttered, realizing how unhinged you looked. “Thank you for the coins.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and slung an arm over your shoulders. “Now, come on. You’ve got a painting to finish.”

Somehow, you found yourself not minding his touch very much, if at all. He didn’t seem so scary, even if he was a monster straight out of the movies. “Is Soobin a vampire too?” you asked suddenly as you walked back to your studio.

Jimin hummed in response, nodding. “I’ll need more coins then,” you joked.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’s on the bag diet, just like me.”

“Bag diet?”

“Yeah, you know, blood bags? We steal them from hospitals and such.”

You furrowed your brow. “That’s not cool, Jimin.”

He sighed. “I know… but it’s better than the alternative, right?”

You had to agree with that. Both of you reached your studio, and Jimin sat back on the stool as you started to paint. Soobin brought you a sandwich as the afternoon turned into evening and you started to lose light. For obvious reasons, neither he nor Jimin ate.

It was disconcerting, for sure, being stuck in a large mansion with two vampires, but one thing was for certain: this summer would be the most interesting one you’d ever have.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

As I said above, I hope you like this, kutie anon! Also, yes, I made a Part Two in which Y/n reflects back on the summer she had with Jimin and there is def more fluffy romance in that. Much 💜, as Taehyung would say, I purple you!

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tomeandflickcorner · 3 years

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Episode Review- The Real Ghostbusters: Lights! Camera! Haunting!

Well, we got another movie themed episode. Though I don’t think it was quite as good as Take Two.

The Ghostbusters have apparently been hired as consultants for a new horror movie that’s being filmed. Ray is excited to actually get to be inside MJN Studios, but Winston informs them that this movie is not being filmed at the movie studio. Instead, the film crews are stationed at a legit haunted house because the movie’s director was trying to aim for authenticity. When they arrive at the haunted house, Peter is clearly not impressed, stating no ghost would actually live in a dump like that. Egon, however, announces he is indeed getting a reading on the PKE Meter.

The Ghostbusters then head inside, and are promptly startled by a man in a weird bug suit. (Peter even seems to instinctively reach for his Proton Thrower, even though it’s not there). But it’s quickly revealed this man is an actor, and they’re currently filming a scene for the movie. The movie’s director, Feeny Muscleberg, then steps forward to introduce himself to the Ghostbusters, as well as the man in the bug suit, Gil Hamstrug, who is to be the star of the movie. Gil seems to be a bit simple minded, to say the least. Though his voice might remind you of John Wayne. Across the room, unnoticed by everyone, a copy of the movie’s script gets stolen by the actual ghosts that are haunting the location. They’re clearly not impressed by the movie’s plot, especially since the ghosts will lose in the end.

Down in the main room of the haunted house, it seems that filming has resumed, with the Ghostbusters watching from a couch. At that moment, the movie’s producer, Artie Grendel, appeared on the scene. Artie immediately informs the Ghostbusters that they’re fired as consultants, as he’s decided that they need to cut unnecessary expenses. (Dude! They just got there!) Moments later, the movie’s filming is disrupted when all the actual ghosts reveal themselves in order to show the film crew what a real ghost can do. And they proceed to cause all sorts of mayhem. (Side note, points for creativity in the designs for these ghosts.) Jumping into action, the Ghostbusters retrieve their Proton Packs from the Ecto-1, which is parked outside. When they come back inside to trap the ghosts, Artie steps into their way. It seems he was quite taken with the ghosts and wanted to film them as part of the actual movie. Despite his protests, though, the Ghostbusters refuse to agree to loan the ghosts out to the film crew. Because, as Egon puts it, they don’t lease, they bust. (Not to mention the ghosts aren’t exactly their property to loan out.) So the Ghostbusters trap all the ghosts on the movie set. However, Artie manages to assist three of them in slipping out through the back. When Feeny, at Artie’s suggestion, takes the Ghostbusters out for some lunch somewhere, Artie meets with the three ghosts who he helped get away in order to discuss some things.

It then fast forwards to a month later. The movie, which was titled Horror House, has just premiered at Radio City Music Hall. Despite having fired them as consultants, Artie has apparently paid the Ghostbusters to show up at the premiere in order to gain some publicity for the new movie. Based on the reactions of the people who are just coming out from seeing Horror House, it appears that it was one of those movies that were so bad, it was good. The Ghostbusters then meet up with Feeny and Gil again. Feeny reveals that, the day after the Ghostbusters had shown up on the set, Artie had fired the two of them as well. Egon is puzzled by this, wondering how Artie could have produced a movie so fast without the director or star actor. Feeny is in agreement with this, staying the special effects alone should have taken a month to create. As they’re puzzling over this, Artie approaches them. He states that he’s willing to share his secret with the Ghostbusters and escorts them into a waiting limo. Feeny and Gil, however, are left behind on the sidewalk.

Artie brings the Ghostbusters to MJN Studios, and Ray voices his pleasure to actually be able to tour the place, as he’s dreamed of going to MJN Studios for a long time. The moment he says this, however, they all get trapped within a net. It’s then that Artie reveals the presence of the Three Ghosts he’d helped escape. He begins to boast about how they were the perfect stars, as they didn’t require any makeup or special effects. Not to mention they were willing to work for free. Artie goes on to announce the Three Ghosts were willing to act in his movie in exchange for a chance to eliminate the Ghostbusters. And, now that Horror House has been completed, it’s apparently time for Artie to uphold his end of the deal by handing the Ghostbusters over to them.

Of course, instead of just attacking the Ghostbusters right then and there, the Three Ghosts had them placed in a prison cell located on the studio. The same cell that, according to Ray, was used in the filming of The Pirate of Zinda, starring Douglass Flynn. Clearly, the Three Ghosts aren’t very bright and decided to go with the classic villain blunder of dragging things out. After the Ghostbusters are left to cool their heels for a while, the Three Ghosts then bring them out to an Old West set. There, they find the Three Ghosts have confiscated their Proton Packs and announce their intentions of chasing them down to shoot them with their own ‘weapons.’ All while Artie films everything nearby. (Because this is apparently the ‘movie’ the Three Ghosts wanted to make.) So the Ghostbusters all take off running as the Three Ghosts fire the Proton Packs at them. As they run, Winston asks Egon to remind him what will happen if they get hit with the Proton Packs, and Egon replies by saying “our individual atoms go on separate vacations.” Clearly, this would be bad.

For a while, we’re treated to a prolonged sequence of the Ghostbusters running from the Three Ghosts, through a graveyard set to a mockup of the RMS Lusitania and eventually a cityscape. Eventually, however, the Ghostbusters are cornered. But at that moment, a helicopter appears overhead, with Feeny climbing down a rope latter. It seems that he and Gil were concerned and followed after them. And Gil is flying the helicopter. Egon asks how Gil knows how to fly a helicopter, but Feeny simply states that Gil is an actor. (So, according to this episode, all you have to do to fly a helicopter is just act that you’re a helicopter pilot? Okay then.)

Unfortunately, before the Ghostbusters can make good their escape, the Three Ghosts appear and shoot down the helicopter. Then, when they’re all trying to once again run from the Proton Packs’ blasts, Gil and Feeny are effectively captured. The Three Ghosts call out to the Ghostbusters, announcing that they’ll let Feeny and Gil go if the Ghostbusters surrender themselves. Ray made them promise to honor their word, and when the Three Ghosts make that promise, Ray told the other Ghostbusters to follow his lead. So the Ghostbusters allow the Three Ghosts to tie them up. And then, when Ray tells the Three Ghosts to honor their end of the bargain, they just laugh. Winston tells Ray they’re ready to hear what Ray’s plan was, but all Ray can say is ‘I got them to promise.’ (Seriously, Ray?!)

A short time later, the Three Ghosts are preparing to execute the Ghostbusters, Feeny and Gil firing squad style as Artie films it. However, Ray ends up coming with a slightly better plan than his last one. He manages to fish the PKE Meter out of Egon’s pocket and makes a few quick adjustments to the device so it would send signals to ghosts instead of receiving them. (And I’m admittedly impressed that Ray can tinker with the PKE Meter with just his teeth.) Ray then uses the reprogramed PKE Meter to send a distress signal. And, right before the Three Ghosts can open fire, the carvery arrives. Specifically the ghosts of past MJN Studios movie stars. The Movie Star Ghosts (who bear a resemblance to Clark Gable, Errol Flynn and John Wayne) come to the rescue, helping the Ghostbusters get free and returning their Proton Packs to them, enabling them to capture the Three Ghosts. As for Artie, he tries to slip away, but Ray and Winston are able to tackle him, with the intention of turning him over to the police. The Movie Star Ghosts then bid the Ghostbusters farewell and ride off into the sunset.

I personally found this episode to be a bit forgettable. It did have a promising concept, with them shooting a movie in an actual haunted house. However, that plot point didn’t really go anywhere. Also, I’m afraid I found the whole motivation of the main human antagonist to be lacking. Yeah, I get we’re supposed to realize that Artie is all about producing movies as cheaply as possible. But we’re supposed to buy that he’d just go along with helping the Three Ghosts kill the Ghostbusters? I didn’t really follow his logic there. After all, he was seriously planning on filming the whole thing. So it stands to reason that he’d eventually be implicated as accessory to murder. Unless his lawyers tried to argue nobody could prove he was the one filming things? Even so, it still seems like a stretch that someone would go from cutting corners in a film’s budget to essentially filming a snuff film.

(Click here for more Ghostbusters reviews)

#the real ghostbusters #rgb episode review #ghostbusters franchise

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loxxxlay · 4 years

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I thought that side eye the grandmaster gave Loki was because he was waiting for someone to say how young he looked. But neither Thor or Loki took the hint. Seen as before he said "anywhere else I'd be a million years old but here on Saakar..."

Listen friend lmao, you have been mislead by the secret cover that taika Waititi created in order to pass this scene of scandulous dick sucking implication to a heteronormative, pg-13 audience. On a surface watch, yours will be the conclusion that many fans (and more importantly) movie critics and Kevin Feigi might draw. But on a deeper level of watching, the truth is revealed. But it’s not too late for you, my humble anon! I can bring you up to speed.

First of all, one must note that the Grandmaster did not look at thor when he said this. He looked specifically at Loki. If he was waiting for them to take the hint and say he looked young, why not look at both of them? If simply a narcissistic urge, the compliment would be just as good from either Odinson? Why single out Loki?

In my opinion, this targeted hint already sexually charges the exchange. Loki being singled out to give a compliment that’s related to how young (i.e. “hot”) the Grandmaster looks? Yeah. that’s the Grandmaster’s idea of flirting.

Not even to mention that erotic slow blink he gives Loki specifically.

Second of all, if you look closely at the gif, you’ll see that thor and loki have very different reactions.

thor looks confused. If one were to speculate, he may even look a little… in denial that this is even happening. but generally he looks confused. if it was so simple as you claimed, i feel like thor, lovely little social charmer that he is, would be able to catch the hint, even if he’s not feeling generous enough to act upon it. thus, he would look angry/annoyed. but no. he remains confused the whole time - and he looks to loki, not the grandmaster, to answer his confusion. this implies there’s more going on beyond the surface that he just can’t figure out. (or maybe doesn’t want to figure out. lmao, which would be fair considering it involves his brother sucking dick.)

loki, on the other hand, does not look confused At All. On a surface viewing, one may (mistakenly) assume that his expression meres thor’s as one of confusion because of the quick succession of facial shots. But taken on its own, Loki’s expression very much does not mirror thor’s. No, this supposed thirsty cockslut is not confused at all.

In fact his face goes through a VASt variety of expressions that we will have to look at individually in order to surmise his true reaction.

(Note: You’ll have to excuse my low quality screenshots because it is hard to find a screencap service that captures each emotion since they happen so fucking fast >.>)

#1: Does this look like confusion? Hell no! this is the face of a man whose brain is about 15 seconds behind the conversation and who just heard something that shrieks at his synapses to HURRY tHE FUCK UP like “oh my god is this really happening? Did I really just understand what was said? Am I even real right now like what just happened?” Our boy is fucking so dizzy that he’s all dulled and half-surprised like he’s waiting for his mouth to start working.

#2: His brain has finally caught up and oh boy is he SHOCKED. He is just like “oh FUCK this IS really happening, i DID really understand what was just said, i AM real and oh FUCK oh NO”. this is the face of shock. of borderline horror. like oh my god thor is standing right there and you be fucking flirting with me right in front of him, but luckily, on the plus side,

#3: his mouth has started working again. whether or not he chooses to use it, he has the capacity for higher thought and speech now. and with this newfound ability, does he look confused? does he look annoyed? HELL NO. He looks like he’s sweating up his shirt. He looks like a man of FEAR. he wants to start babbling, start explaining himself because thor CANNOt know the truth. he’s all like, “what is thor thinking of me? has he figured it out? what can I say to defend myself?” that cute little eyebrow scrunch of sadness conveys the homerotic dubcon tension mmmm, and oh boy he DOES NOt WANt tO BE HERE, he DOES NOt WANt tHOR tO BE HERE, he wants fucking OUt of this mind game the Cock Master is playing with him, which leads us to….

#4: finally we reach the final stage of grief: acceptance. Our boy is resigned here. this is the face of a man who has just realized the Grandmaster has set him up in this situation deliberately to watch as he squirms. this is the face of a man how is pressing his lips together to avoid babbling excuses about his dick sucking situation. this is the face of a man who knows he is powerless and utterly at the Grandmaster’s whim. and wow is he mightily (but quietly) resentful ;)

tldr; yes of course the grandmaster wanted somebody to com4liment his youthful looks. it’s just that he wanted the somebody to be Loki and he wanted it to be Loki so that he could be like “HAHAHA WE’RE FUCKING AND YOU DON’t WANt YOUR BROtHER tO KNOW AND I CAUGHt YOU MMMHMMMMHMMMM~~~~~ YOU ARE MINE AND YOU ARE HELPLESS”

third of all, what do you think this is if not, “you are my trophy concubine and you are not allowed to say no to me” homoerotic tension lmao:

fourth and finally, like and i genuinely apologize if you were just trying to have a fun conversation with me :(

please and thank you lol, and i hope you can enjoy my two ted talks now

#frostmaster #loki #grandmaster #lox replies #anon #cw dubcon

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a-secondhand-sorrow · 4 years

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“Yeah,” she says, and Evan privately thinks that this may be the most painful conversation they’ve had. There’s still a look in Zoe’s eyes, something a little unhinged and a lot hurt, and he wants more than anything to get rid of it. He knows that it’s not his job, but God, he wants to. He wants to grab her hand and press a kiss to her temple just like he used to, to slide his hand along the side of her jaw like he did whenever she was upset.

(cont.) He wants to remind her to breathe just like she used to remind him to do, wants to trace the freckles on her cheeks until she’s giggling and her eyes are dry.

y’all know that feeling when you’re writing or drawing or even just thinking and drinking some water really late at night or early in the morning and all of the sudden it’s like you’ve managed to tap into the very specific emotion of longing you feel in your heart and can only hope to capture even a sliver of on the page at some point because it’s like three am and everything feels like a lot? guess when i wrote this entire passage! i also was writing this for the deh winter gift exchange and i started a little closer to the posting date than my comfort level really liked so that definitely contributed to the general emotional delirium in this fic. that’s part of why they actually meet face to face in the fic at all, bc my nighttime self wanted to write it and thus it happened. looking back on it i’m very glad they did have these face to face moments because it took the whole piece in a different direction and kind of..tied it together? at least it kind of feels that way to me. but mostly my thoughts when writing it were “hnghh emotion????” and letting my sad writing playlist guide me in some kind of direction

ok so....casual intimacy is like. one of my favorite things esp in writing because it’s one of the best ways to make relationships seem real, right? and obviously zoe and evan had a really strong and good relationship (minus the whole lying thing, which kind of complicates the idea of if it was strong and good at all, but personally i’ve thought that their relationship really had all of the tenets of a strong and good relationship despite That. obviously many people disagree and that’s fair and valid but it’s just...how i’ve read their relationship before and how i continue to read it) before he came clean and everything ended. but this is several years after everything ends and they obviously haven’t practiced this type of intimacy since their relationship together, and, you know, have barely interacted since breaking up. so it’s kind of a double blow where they’re extremely out of practice with being with someone they were that comfortable with and also not knowing how to...Not show that intimacy, since they’ve barely had a chance to unlearn the behavior. that’s exacerbated by the fact that zoe is upset and evan, although more stable than he is in most of the actual show, is dealing with some kind of emotinal journey what with applications and his relationship with his mom and the holidays and the lingering guilt he feels about the murphy’s and connor, all of which is overridden by concern (like he always is when it comes to zoe, since he puts everyone but especially her in front of himself. i think he even thinks “anything for you” at a later point, which kind of demonstrates the same idea that he cares about her so deeply even after all this time that he’d still do anything at the drop of the hat or the shift of a breath). once again, a side product of their time toghether.

it’s kind of like....once you know someone so well and then you’re not allowed (in some way) to know them in that Specific way again, or maybe you just don’t really see them again often enough to justify knowing them like that, how are you meant to react? evan is so used to doing anything he can to make zoe happy when she’s upset, and there’s also a part of him that feels like it’s the least he can do after everything in canon. mostly, it just comes back to that casual intimacy and the longing they both still feel for the relationship that can’t be salvaged—that he wants to act in that similar way because at this point it’s all he remembers how to do. he doesn’t act on it because he knows that he can’t, that it’s not fair to zoe or himself to pretend that their relationship is anywhere close to that level anymore, but it doesn’t shake that initial visceral reaction and all of the memories it bring with it, hence the entire paragraph. every single action i mention just felt extremely soft and like something that only two people who were really comfortable with each other would do. also just the thought of them actually living them in the present is adorable and fulfills every angsty bone in my body, so here they are in a hypothetical sense. we love a comforting evan hansen amirite

(there’s also something about the fact that he remembers zoe doing something similar, helping him breathe during his panic attacks, which i think is just pretty telling of what their relationship looked like)

and zoe, at the same time, is kind of...falling apart, but personally i’m a sucker for evan being a steady and calming presence for her when everything else is very unsteady (like when they’re at connors grave). so even though her mind is a million miles away i think there’s still a part of her that’s reacting to being around evan in a positive way. it’s also not good for her, given that just the act of being home has shaken her up so much, and seing evan for what’s effectively the second time after everything ended with their relationship and her invented better relationship with connor only serves to shake her up more, which is why evan sees the unhinged and hurt look in her eyes. i was also trying to draw more parallels between her and connor (specifically in the computer lab scene, but also just in general when he was upset) for reasons only my sleepy nightine-writing self knows. probably just for the pain of it, honestly. but also to show that zoe and connor were more similar than evan thought, they just expressed it in very different ways.

also at 2am or whenever it was this actually got down on paper i thought it would be brillant to have evan tracing zoe’s freckles, a. because i always write that in because it’s hella cute and b. because earlier in the fic i said something about him tracing her stars like constellations in one of zoe’s pov’s. star symbolism, man. i am a simple person. i see zoe murphy, i write about stars in a somewhat contrived and repetitive metaphor for love and naïveté and youth. any high school english student would roll their eyes at it extensively as their teacher needlessly read into it, i’m sure, in some universe where those metaphors ever get written into books. and no i’m not salty about english classes what are you talking about. but you know what? i like writing about zoe and stars and i’m gonna keep referencing it. it’s some good angst i recommend it.

this is...a rambling mess i’m very sorry.

tl;dr: when i write late at night on a deadline i end up leaning into painful emotions about wanting to comfort people but not being able to. zoe and evan has a good relationship but now it’s over and they don’t know how to act around each other.

send me 500 words (or less) of any fic i wrote for a dvd commentary on it

#long post #VERY long post im slrry #this is....an essay....#not really but its longer than i meant for it to be #lex tag #ask game #deh #dear evan hansen #i forget the name of this fic it doesnt need a tag right? its fine #deh fanfic #bandtrees #zoevan #my writing #my fanfic #evan hansen #zoe murphy #thank you for asking though! i enjoyed writing about it. now i want tk write more. whoops #soemone please make me go to sleep

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naruto--imagines · 5 years

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Shikamaru x Reader [Chess]

[A/N] I do not own any of the characters present in this story, nor do I own the GIF that is featured. I do hold ownership over the story itself, please do not re-post it anywhere. Thanks! <3

He could always count on it. At lunch time, every day you would pop into his classroom and demand that he plays chess with you. This obsession had started when you were younger.

Your parents both worked long hours, and since your moms were best friends Shika’s mother gladly offered to watch you after school. Shikamaru would pick you up from your classroom and together you walked to his mom's car. Yoshino would drive back to their house and sit the two of you down to do your homework (it often ended up with Shikamaru helping you through most of your assignment).

Around half way through Yoshino always brought a snack for you guys to munch on while you worked and after, the two of you would go outside to play. Shikamaru only liked to play for a short while before he claimed that it was “too bothersome to run around”. When that happened you two usually went back inside and would spend the time coloring or playing with some of Shika’s other toys Instead.

One day, when school got out it was raining cats and dogs. Yoshino met you guys at the door to the school to walk you both to the car. Your routine followed as usual apart from going outside (you tried really hard to go out and play in the rain, but were told “no” twice by both Naras in the vicinity). After you two had finished your homework, you were laying on the floor, bored to tears. You had finished every other activity that the two of you normally did after school and you were just waiting for Shikaku to get home so that dinner could be served before you had to leave. Noticing you and Shikamaru laying on the floor, Yoshino suggested that the two of you play a board game while you wait. Accepting her suggestion, you two of you run off to go find one.

“Hopefully you don't mind too much, all we have is strategy games.” Shikamaru says digging through the games. “Let’s play checkers.” He states brandishing the box.

“Okay!” You exclaim as the two of you head back to the living room. Shikamaru briefly explains the rules to you before he lets you make the first move. You quickly lose that round. So, you play again. And you lose again. Not deterred in the least, you play for a third time! And you lose a third time.

It's at this point where Shikaku walks into the room, now home from work, and sees the two of you playing. Specifically, with Shikamaru looking bored at the game and you with a small pout on your face. Shikaku laughs at the scene before walking over to ruffle your hair and ask how the game’s going. Shikamaru quickly tells him that you are improving and managed to last longer this time than your previous two attempts.

“Why don't you two go wash up so we can eat?” Shikaku asks before the two of you quickly put the game away and rum off to do as you're told. And that's how it all started. From that day forward you challenged Shikamaru to checkers after the two of you finished your homework and you would play until it was time to eat. Your love for strategy games only grew from there. One weekend, when an emergency popped up at the office, your parents dropped you off at the Nara house to spend the day with them. Upon entering the living room with Yoshino, you see Shikamaru and Shikaku playing a new game.

“This is chess,” Shikaku briefly explains to you. “The goal is to capture your opponent's King. Unlike checkers, you have multiple pieces that move in many ways.” Just from the explanation you decided this game was too hard for you. Instead, you chose to sit by Shikamaru's side and watch. After several hours and multiple game later you decided that you wanted to learn how to play.

You sat across from Shikamaru, with Shikaku sitting behind you offering you some direction as you began to stumble through a game (which you inevitably lost). And just like that, you were hooked. Desperate to play against your friend until you won.

You checkers routine was over and now taken over by chess. Every day you would get home from class, do your homework, then play chess. This routine followed you as you left elementary school, it continued through middle school, and even persists now in high school. After all the years of playing, you’re good enough to defeat other chess players but you still lack the skill to defeat Shikamaru. So here you stood now.

“Come on Shika, we can get a quick round in before lunch is over.” You plead standing by his desk.

“Woman, you're so bothersome.” He says holding his head up in his hand with his eyes closed. Choji sat next to him with a smile on his face watching the two of you interact. You placed a lunch on his desk before you turn around and grab another desk, pushing it up against his to begin playing.

You have become used to making two lunches every morning, since you got to high school you had to find a way to keep Shikamaru invested in your game. You bet every day that the loser had to bring the winner a lunch the next day.

“Same wager?” you ask as you set up your pieces. Choji scoots closer to watch you guys play a smile on his face as he munches on a bag of potato chips.

“No, let's switch it up. You need motivation to not lose.” He says as you look up from the board.

“Well, what did you have in mind?” you ask him sitting up straight.

“Loser does whatever the winner says.” Shikamaru says with a lazy smirk on his face.

“What?” you ask, knowing your past streak isn't setting you up for a promising outcome.

“That's my condition for playing right now.” He said looking into your eyes. “Otherwise, you’ll have to wait until I want to play.” Shikamaru finishes turning to look out the window instead.

“Okay, okay, fine, I agree to your terms.” You say settling in. You two begin to play, and you must say, it is one of your closer games. As your skills in chess began to grow, Shika stopped going easy on you. He began using more advanced techniques on you, and this match wasn't any different. In fact, it felt as though this round was harder than it usually is. After playing for about 30 minutes you're finally in a place where you think you'll win. A few more steps and your rook could be in the perfect position. Until one-word leaves Shikamaru’s lips and ruins your plan.

“Check.” He says looking bored as ever.

“Augh! I was so close.” You exclaim as you begin to clean up.

“Don't you say that every time?” Choji asks for. His spot beside you two.

“Shhhh!” you say to the boy pressing your pointer finger to your lip. “Okay, Shikamaru, what do you want?” You ask slightly dejectedly.

“Not sure yet.” He replies causing you to almost fall out of your seat. “But I do know that my mom wants you to come over for dinner tonight.” He replies before leaving the classroom.

Later that night you show up to the Nara house. Yoshino greets you with a hug as you enter and points to the living room where Shikaku and Shikamaru are playing a game of chess. You sit down next to Shikamaru watching him play against his father. You watch the two of them play for some time before ending with Shikamaru’s defeat.

“Ah man, what a drag,” Shika cries before rubbing the back of his neck. You laughed at the teen sitting next to you. The three of you get up from your seats on the ground and move to the table as Yoshino announces that dinner is ready. As the four of you all sat down Yoshino began asking you all sorts of questions. How school was going? How your extracurriculars were. If anything new had come up in your life, like

“Are you dating anyone.” She asked innocently (even though her questions were rarely without a hidden agenda). That question made you blush.

“What? No no, nothing like that.” You explain to the parents sitting across from you. Yoshino and Shikaku became second parents for you (practically raising you) and you could tell each of their thoughts on you dating. Yoshino was excited to talk about relationships while Shikaku took on the protective role. And Shikamaru slapped his hand to his forehead at his parent’s interrogation.

By the end of dinner you could tell Shikamaru was ready to be away from his parents. You both quickly finished your food and put your dishes away before escaping to his room. Shikamaru laid out on his bed while you grabbed the chess board and began to set it up before you heard a groan from behind you.

“Knock it off, I’ve played enough today.” Shikamaru said as he gestured for you to put it away. Looking at you with his head propped in his hand. You put it away (a bit dejectedly) and sat on the floor beside his bed looking up at him. It wasn’t often that you could get him to talk to you endlessly, but the times that you did always made you smile. This was one of those times. The two of you shared a few laughs and exchanged smiles here and there before Shika lets out a yawn. You smile at him before you stand up and stretch your arms over your head letting out a small groan.

“I suppose I should head home before it gets too late.” You say getting ready to walk out after saying goodbye to Shika.

“Hang on, you still owe me something.” He said before you could get too far.

“Did you decide on what you want?” You ask taking a step towards him. Shikamaru doesn’t say anything, just reaches out and grabs your wrist and waist then pulls you down on to the bed next to him. You left out a slight “oof” at the impact. Resting your hand against his side you look up to him.

“Is this what you wanted for winning?”

“Not exactly.” He says looking down at you with a smile on his face. “Go out with me.”

“That’s what you want?” You ask with a slight laugh. “You know, you didn’t have to make a bet to ask me that.” You tell him.

“You’re so bothersome. Why can’t you just accept that I’m asking you out and not be such a pain about it?” He asks you, pulling you in closer and resting his chin against your head attempting to hide his blush.

“Sure Shika, I’d love to go out with you.” You tell him wrapping your arm around him and turning your face into his chest.

#Shikamaru #shikamaru x reader #naruto imagine #m/m #m/f #gender neutral #reader insert #imagine

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