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#quotations from books i didn't like
derangedrhythms · 10 months
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She looked like she had been to the underworld and back and could speak the language of the dead and the lost.
Tara M. Stringfellow, from 'Memphis'
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ashtrayfloors · 1 year
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Jason McBride, from Eat Your Mind: The Radical Life and Work of Kathy Acker (Simon & Schuster, 2022)
It also helped that most of her students were big fans of hers when they arrived, and even bigger fans by the time they left. Her classes, usually three hours long and between fifteen and twenty students, were always oversubscribed. After her first year there, students were required to submit three writing samples to be considered for admission. She understandably gravitated toward students whose writing felt fresh and unusual, who had an interest in postmodernism or experimentation, as well as those who’d had tough lives, who seemed damaged. “Half of them come out of serious child abuse, sexual and other,” she told a friend. She doted on the students with tattooed skulls, the trans men, the ones who’d worked in porn. But you didn’t even have to be enrolled at SFAI necessarily; if she found you compelling enough, you could be a high-school dropout and still take her classes. Over the years, several of her students would go on to successful writing and art careers: Lynn Breedlove, Anna Joy Springer, Alicia McCarthy, Geoffrey Farmer, Xylor Jane, Erin Courtney.
The class was, for all intents and purposes, a writing workshop, but with an unmistakable Ackerian flavor. “Only one thing’s forbidden here,” she would announce at the start of the term. “You’re not allowed to bore me. Never bore me. Just be honest. Dishonesty is boring. Honesty is always interesting.” The first writing exercise she’d give students was to write a sex scene involving them and a family member. Then she’d have them pass their assignment to the person sitting next to them, who would then read it out loud. “Write from your father’s point of view,” went another assignment, “but in the voice of a schizophrenic.” She would tell her students to try, as she did, to write while masturbating. “I was like, ‘Wha...?’,” remembered Lynn Breedlove. “I can barely do one at a time.” This was something that Acker famously did, for a brief while keeping what she called the Masturbation Journals. “I start,” she writes in one example. “Do I want porn? If I’ve got porn can I write this journal? (Do this do that: get all those thots [sic] out of mind, back to dreams where all the animals live) ... I will float forever ...”
...
At the beginning of class, she also told her students that she wasn’t there to solve their problems; she was going to be neither mother nor shrink. That disclaimer, students soon found, was a bit of misdirection—she could, in fact, be extremely nurturing. When one student, for example, arrived to class on her motorcycle, her bare hands freezing, Acker promptly gave the woman an old pair of hers. She could be especially supportive when it came to students’ writing. She told many of them to never give up on their writing. “She almost violently grabbed me by my braids,” said Anna Joy Springer, “and said, ‘You’re so good, Anna Joy, don’t you dare stop writing. I think you’re the reincarnation of Jean Genet.’ I had no idea who that even was.”
...
Springer was dating Lynn Breedlove, the founding member of Tribe8, a queercore band that often spoofed the antics of straight hair bands like Bon Jovi. Breedlove wasn’t technically a student at SFAI, but Springer brought him to the Edinburgh Castle and he was immediately intrigued. “There was this little, short, butch-femme, leather-clad, Harley-riding New Yorker babe,” Breedlove remembered, “talking about this French porno philosophy shit. And I was like, ‘Whoa.’ She had my attention.” Breedlove had a degree in English from Cal State and liked to condense literary and philosophical ideas into three-chord rock songs, bestowing this knowledge, he said, on kids who couldn’t afford college. Acker, he felt, was engaged in a similar project, making ideas and information accessible in her own way too. In Acker’s class, he wrote about years lost to drugs and alcohol and about his past life as a bike messenger. That writing would eventually become Godspeed, Breedlove’s first novel. “She made herself so accessible to all of us,” he said. “And validated us. She said, ‘Okay, you guys are young, you’re queer, you’re fucking way out on the edges of society, and the world needs to hear about your lives’.” Acker hired Tribe8 to make music for her spoken-word album Redoing Childhood, taking producer Hal Willner to a concert the night before the recording session, where the band proceeded to cut up several large green and blue dildos on stage. Acker called Tribe8 the “hottest band in San Francisco” and Breedlove “one of the dreams I had had when I was a girl.”
...
“She was learning a lot,” Springer said. “How to have sexual intimacy with women, about diverse gender roles, about power plays that didn’t have exact representational parallels in real life. I think she was learning about queerness, feminist queerness.” That said, and as much as Acker loved the idea of queerness, as much as she thought of herself as queer, sex with women was still only rarely appealing to her.
...
Springer saw this too, though in somewhat different terms. Acker was in her forties, had never had kids, and was watching a generation of young queer women come of age, third-wave feminists who could have been her children, who she had, in a way, given permission to be. “She never thought that what was happening in feminist, dyke, punk, S and M, anti-moralistic culture could happen with women,” Springer said. “She was, like, ‘Oh my god, you kids are doing amazing things. The future might be possible’.”
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luveline · 8 months
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JADE!!! WE WOULD LOVE TO SEE ANOTHER SPENCER X BADASS GIRL!!! maybe its a quiet day and reader & spencer just chilling and joking around in their little world and the others just watching ahahah
thank you for your request babe, I would love to write more for this pairing if u have requests!! ♡ fem!reader
"What are they doing?" Emily asks, a fierce whisper that carries across the jet. 
"I think they're flirting," JJ whispers back. 
Hotch closes the case file in front of him. There's nothing left to do until they get home but sit here in each other's company. You and Spencer seem to have realised this before anybody else, shoulder to shoulder, a book in his hands. He's slouched with his leg crossed over his knee, taking up the majority of the couch. You seem content to take the brunt of his weight while giggling softly by his ear. 
Hotch can't lie, he's genuinely startled by your behaviour. It's the total opposite of your usual affect.
"That's not flirting," Rossi says without looking up. 
Hotch has to agree. You brush a stray hair from Spencer's shoulder and he doesn't so much as blush, turning the page to show you something particular. You lean in closer still, hand resting now on his shoulder. 
That's not flirting, that's way beyond it. Spencer is practically in your lap, and you —wouldn't hug anyone on your birthday, didn't tell them where you were for four days when you had appendicitis until you were forced, cold, lone wolf you— look like you're about to cuddle him close and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. 
You're in your own little world. 
"I stopped expecting her to push him off twenty minutes ago," Derek says, as seemingly unbothered as Rossi. 
"Don't tell me you knew about this," Emily says incredulously. 
"They've been going on dates." 
"They what?" 
You laugh happily at Spencer's side, pointing at a specific line with the tip of your fingernail. "When asked, Moroscova said that the length of his stay was an act of perjury," you read. 
Spencer laughs at your quotation, sharing a secret smile with you. "That haircut is an act of perjury." 
Your eyes glow with a look Hotch knows well. Haley looked at him like that for years. "Thanks for reading this with me. I know I'm slow." 
"You're not slow. I'm really fast. There's a difference."
It's the definition of young love, Hotch thinks, all those heartfelt reassurances disguised as brags, stolen touches, Spencer's knuckles stroking up and down your outer thigh. 
He turns back to his book and you stare at the side of his face. It's a little heartbreaking. Hotch knows if things don't work out between you, you'll take it hard. Your affection for Spencer has always been in the silent things, undulating, until lately: you listen to him talk when nobody else has the patience, what must amass to hours and hours of stories and statistics; you defend him at every turn, in every precinct in every city; when Spencer has a hard time, you refuse to rest until he feels better. The case before this one, the unsub beat you across the face with the handle of his gun, and you leaned out of the ambulance with your eye glued shut to make sure Spencer got anaesthetic before his stitches. You look at him like he's hanging the moon in real time. 
"Okay, that's too much," Derek says. Hotch detects a hint of brotherly affection in it, but mostly disgust. 
You raise your gaze from Spencer's chest, the breezy smile playing on your lips flattening into a hard line. You send Derek your fiercest glare, him being the first in your line of sight, and Emily gets the shock of her life when you turn and narrow your eyes at her, too. 
Emily smiles widely. "Hey, how's it going over there?" she asks. 
"Why are you guys looking at me?" you ask. 
"You can't guess?" Derek says.
"If I could guess, I wouldn't have asked." 
Hotch gives you a disapproving look. Tone it down, Agent. 
"I just wanna know what's so interesting," you say, leaning into indifference.  
Spencer looks up from his book. "What?" 
"Nothing," you say, your tone gentler in a capacity only profilers might notice. "Don't worry about it."
Spencer sits up and your eyebrows pinch down. Hotch wants to save it and he also doesn't get paid enough. Everything works out in the end, he thinks, not believing himself even slightly as he gets up to make a cup of coffee at the back of the jet. Your sullen tones hardly reach him through the curtain and over the sound of the hot water kettle, Spencer's puzzled reassuring even quieter. 
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sxtellary · 20 days
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❟❟mikey character analysis❜❜
!! here's my take on a relationship with mikey, what I think his type is, what he wants in a relationship/what he needs imo and overall how he'd be in one. take it as you please, either a small analysis of his character or headcanons (。-ω-)
triggers ;; js a lot of fluff with toman!mikey, gosh I love him so much he's such a cutie, fem!reader – not physically described
word count ;; 1.5k
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I feel like mikey can catch strong feelings towards someone only after a certain period of time. platonic feelings and romantic feelings are two separate things, and I think he'd have a hard time distinguishing which ones which and what he feels. he'd confuse the platonic ones and romantic ones and just think you're a very good friend to him. I dont feel like he'd ever think about his romantic feelings that much, and even if he did he'd try to hide them (let's face it he's a teenage boy I'm sure he knows what falling in love feels like, he just doesn't know how to differentiate the feeling from a platonic one), only really acknowledging them if someone else pointed them out for him (for exemple things he does or say for/to his crush). that's why I think the "childhood friends to lovers" trope is the best one for him, or at least a friend he's been knowing for a very long time, so he can actually understand his feelings.
"sharing his popsicle with his friend after a long hot day at school wasn't something out of ordinary. summer was approaching rapidly and the weather was showing it, growing hotter and hotter as the day went by, making cold sweat beads on your forehead as you tried to make some air with a book you had in your school bag. you had some time in your hands after school ended and before your english private lessons started, so you choose to hang out with mikey and draken, to mikey's displeasure. he always loved draken and [name]'s company, that's why he pleaded for the blonde to accompany him when visiting the girl, but something in him screamed to make draken leave. he didn't know why. maybe the way the taller one was digging holes in his back everytime he talked with her, or the way draken made his presence known at the worst possible times ever coughing like a grandpa or starting weird conversations about the ice cream he was eating. either way he wanted him gone now. he can go to emma, or something.. right?
"ehh, mikey, you're eating all the ice cream! leave some for me too..," [name] said as she took the sweet treat they were sharing from the blonde's hands. "but you ate your part like five minutes ago.., ugh, you know what? fine. eat it all. ken-chin can go buy me another one, right?", hearing his nickname, draken sighed as he shook his head. something's happening..
as time went on with bickering, laughs and jokes emanating mainly from mikey and [name] (seriously, draken didn't even want to be there), the sun was starting to set, which meant their fun time had to come to an end and her lessons to a start.
after hugging you tight, he looked at you waving in the distance as you tried catching the next bus. he felt a strong gaze on the side of his face, and as he turned his head he met his friend already staring at him with furrowed brows.
"do you like her?", draken asked with a sigh.
"who?"
"don't play dumb with me now."
"no I don't? what's with the question all of a sudden?"
"what do you mean 'no, you don't'?", he spat, mimicking the quotation marks in the air as he walked alongside mikey to his house. "you made me go with you to her school on a friday afternoon, ignored me half of that time and even hugged her when you met and before she left."
"pshh, that doesn't mean anything, ken-chin! she's just a really good friend," mikey shook his head, still chewing at the wooden stick his popsicle came with.
"mikey, you shared your ice cream with her. I think this is more than a friendship if you ask me."
mikey didn't respond, opting to sulk over his friend's words all night and the next day. maybe he's right? nah, can't be.."
his type can vary, all I know is for sure he just wants someone who can handle him. face and body don't really matter to him, as long as they have a cute face for him that's enough. I think for him it matters more how they act, if they can help him get better from his dark impulses and overall be there for him. this is more a headcanon than analysis but I like to think he'd date to marry, or at least he'd want that if he wasn't so busy with gang stuff.
I also think he'd want someone who can relate to him, but to an extent. he will feel uncomfortable if his lover would have the exact same problems because he's not good at comforting (that doesnt mean he wouldn't try to cheer you up tho), but someone who can relate to him can make mikey feel a bit relieved and not so alone. he'd have a hard time opening up too, so having an old friend as a lover will make him feel more comfortable. his lover will automatically be his bsf too!
he's a clingy boyfriend. let's be serious, we all have seen how he is with draken, now imagine that a 100% worse. he'd demand to be everywhere with you, at your house, at his house, park, school, class, you name it, he's with you. nothing new if you skip classes just to hang out with him, and if you don't, he'd whine about it like a child. sleepovers are a must in your relationship, but they mostly happen at his house; I like to think he can't have a good night's sleep anywhere else except his own bed, and you in his arms too? best sleep he's had in YEARS!
""mikey, move! I have to go home, it's late," you whined as you tried to move the blonde's arms away from your body. you've been trying for about an hour and got no progress. it was as if he was glued to your side. it was kind of cute, if you thought about it; he looked like a koala, holding on for dear life on a tree. but you liked koalas when you weren't the tree itself..
you went to sleep late because he wanted to finish the last season of 'the simpsons', and you couldn't go to sleep first because he liked to keep his TV on high volume. goddammit, mikey..
from what you can see from the clock on his wall it was around eleven am. you didn't have a curfew per say, you just didn't want to bother the sano's anymore with your presence; the way you screamed last night to old cringey songs with your boyfriend was probably enough for his grandpa. and besides, you wanted to study for the upcoming exams, it was a sunday after all and you dont get the heart to slack off.
"come on, mikey. wake up!" you tried to shake him off once again, but he didn't even budge.
you knew he was awake already, though. the way his eyes fluttered as he moved his irises and the corners of his mouth trembled to contain the smile that was creeping up on them gave it away. "mikey!", that's the only thing you got to say before he poked your sides, making you giggle in the progress.
"you sure are very talkative in the morning now, aren't you. yapping my ear off and I didn't even get to wake up properly," the blonde yawned, making himself comfortable on your form.
"kiss me good morning so I won't be upset all day that you're leaving so early!" he demanded, making you chuckle.
"no. your breath stinks! go brush your teeth, mikey!""
even if he acts like a kid, deep down he knows it's not safe for you to take part in his gang life, he thinks it's dangerous. he'll try and teach you some moves, just so you can defend yourself when he's not around (which is like never cause he's literally glued to your side but wtvr manjiro ( ´-`)). if you know how to fight tho, I think that's a whole new story, more or less. he'd still worry about your safety, but wouldnt mind you getting involved.
mikey would also have a hard time opening up. don't expect him to be comfortable to show any emotions to you when you first meet him or when you guys start dating. sure he'll be always happy around you, sometimes grumpy, angry, but I feel like he'll show his "weakness" much more later, when he feels more comfortable around you and when he makes sure you won't leave him after that.
I also like to think he has the same weakness as his brother to the ladies. like let's face it, getting rejected 10 times and still going for 20.. this is what I call weakness, and since shinichiro practically raised manjiro I think he rubbed off on his little brother. the thing is, since shin is mikey's one and only exemple, I don't think he'll actually act up on it and get rejected like his big bro (I feel like he's scared of rejection and seeing his brother get it every single time it made him precautions on things like these (/。\)).
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© 2024 sxtellary
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year
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Aaron and the reader getting caught by the team maybe ??
matters of convenience
cw; suggestive content, aaron being all ;) , bau family banter <3
jj tossed the several room keys she picked up earlier onto the table, gaining everyone's attention. "we were able to get only four rooms, so some of us'll have to pair up."
the group of you had arrived in sunny california a few hours prior. you've spent the day going over victimology, visited the crime scene, all the per usuals. the day had felt horrendously long- as it was much later back home in quantico.
"and i'll be occupying my own, thank you." dave didn't hesitate, being the first to reach into the pile and claim a key.
"rossi," derek's voice was monotone, squinting his eyes ever so slightly. "time to share the riches for once, you had your own the last time."
"did i?" dave feigned a quizzical expression. "well, maybe when you write a book, you can have your own room."
"i'm with jj." emily announced abruptly, beating whoever was about to speak next to the punch. "we have a system down. i shower at night, she's in the morning. i refuse to stray from routine unless you want to deal with my wrath tomorrow."
"oh c'mon."
"then i can share with hotch, i don't mind." you casually threw in, shrugging your shoulders as you bit your lip to refrain from smiling. you peeked off to the side as aaron was in your peripheral vision. he was gazing down, still taking notes in his file as he listened along to the conversation.
the others were oblivious to his lips twitching as he fought back a smirk, but it didn't go unnoticed by you. "i'm fine with that."
an opportunity to spend the night alone together? you'd be stupid not to take it.
"seriously?" derek let out an exasperated breath. "boy genius over here will keep me awake with the light on. it's always" he paused, providing air quotations. "'one more book.'"
-
"we have to stop meeting like this."
a laugh easily escaped you and finally aaron's gorgeous smile came into view at the sound. "what, in secret?"
aaron hummed in confirmation, a laugh leaving him as well. the hand not occupied by his go-bag was barely grazing your side as the two of you walked down the hall to your respected room. every so often, his fingertips would lightly make contact.
"very unprofessional of you agent hotchner." you teased as the two of you came to a stop outside the door, an amused expression on your face. you crossed your arms, accompanied by a tilt of your head as you leaned against the wall. "sneaking around with a subordinate while on the job?"
"technically, the job doesn't start again until nine." aaron countered, a wicked glint in his deep brown eyes as he set his bag down.
"oh, does it?" you quipped. with both hands you grabbed ahold of the lapels belonging to his suit jacket, pulling him close. once he was a few mere centimeters away, your palms slowly smoothed down what you had just obstructed, savoring the feeling of warmth radiating from his body. it only confirmed his close proximity, just how you liked it.
his hands fell overtop of yours, keeping them firmly in place as he leaned closer, his lips trailing delicately from your jaw to your ear. "and besides, i haven't been able to get the thought of how you sound under my mouth out of my head all day."
as if to further prove his point he retraced his previous steps, opting to take his time. after pressing his mouth to the skin behind your ear, it skimmed your jaw, stopping every so often only to press chaste kisses along it. his hands released yours to untuck your blouse from your pants, allowing him access to slip his fingers underneath, his touch initiating instant goosebumps on your skin.
aaron's name all but left you in a breath, your eyes fluttering shut as you relaxed your body, completely falling surrender to him. satisfied with the current effect he had over you, his lips found placement on your neck. open mouthed kisses found home here, complimented by small bites, the initial sting from such smoothed over with his tongue. then, he-
"oh god." emily's voice came out of nowhere, causing aaron to immediately unlatch himself from you. your eyes flew open and sure enough, emily was right there.
silence lingered overtop the three of you, and it was almost daring- like it was begging someone to come out and say something. however, your flushed cheeks did you the favor in terms of speaking for themselves, and aaron was sporting the same reaction.
after the initial shock seemingly wore off, emily smirked, raising an eyebrow. "both of you know it's my god given right to share this with everyone, don't you?"
the two of you stood there, still stunned and gaining your breath, as emily sauntered to the next nearby door, rapping on it with her knuckle. "morgan, you owe me a twenty."
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c-nstantine · 10 months
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Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?
Description: Y/N Wayne brings a very special guest to dinner.
Word Count: 0.8k
Warnings: Cursing
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It was rare that all of the bat children were summoned for a reason outside of their nightly duties. It was a sign that shenanigans were about to ensue and Bruce normally took this as a sign to drink heavily. Usually, it was because of Y/N but these little gatherings always left strong memories on each sibling.
"Do we need to be here for this?" Jason asked feeling a bit stuffy in his white button-up shirt. He already rolled up the sleeves and undid the first two buttons.
"Yeah, Y/N gets a new boyfriend like every week," Duke said looking through his comic book. He didn't have anything else to do but this was not how he wanted to spend his day off.
"This is different apparently. She said and I quote 'It's serious this time. I would have his kids,'" Tim used air quotations when explaining why all of them are waiting for Y/N to show up for dinner.
"Hell, maybe I will stick around," Jason said intrigued by the idea of his sister wanting to have someone's kids.
"Whoever sticks around the longest doesn't have to patrol for the next three days." Bruce walked into the parlor where all the children were currently relaxing. No one knows how Bruce does the things that he does but Tim's working theory is that there are secret passages throughout the manor.
"Oh, you're on," Cass said appearing behind Bruce. She was on a new mission to make Bruce flinch. She hadn't been successful yet but she could feel herself getting close.
"Everyone please meet in the dining room. Y/N and her guest have arrived," Alfred said with a smile playing on his lips because he knew that shitstorm that was about to occur.
"I wonder who we're meeting now," Tim thought aloud.
"Probably another model or actor," Damian said holding Pennyworth the Cat. He was only excited to threaten someone else for dating his sister. It had been one of the few times deemed acceptable to threaten people outside of patrol.
"You think I'll be able to get an autograph?" Duke asked. Unfortunately, no one was able to answer because they saw who Y/N's guest was.
"Slade? How the hell did you get here?" Dick asked, noticing how Slade Wilson's arm was wrapped around his sister's waist.
"Y/N get away from him. Is he holding you captive?" Bruce asked. If there's one thing that Bruce was going to be, it would be a concerned father, especially when it came to Y/N.
"What? No, he's my boyfriend," Y/N exclaimed so her family wouldn't start pulling out the weapons that were hidden all over the manor.
"I always knew one of you would give me a heart attack, I always thought it would be Damian or Tim," Bruce
"We're dating," Y/N said happily while looking up at Slade. He placed a kiss on her lips and all of her siblings immediately gagged.
"You're dating my nemesis," Dick accused Y/N with a nagging finger.
"Yeah, he was like thirsting after me real bad so I made him promise not to do dumb stuff," Y/N explained while adjusting her long box braids that were in a ponytail.
"It's true. I haven't plotted against you or anyone close to you in almost one hundred and fifty days," Slade said it was like some kind of accomplishment. He was captivated by Y/N, there was something about her that made him do whatever she wanted without hesitation.
"Thank you, I think," Dick's confusion was written all over his face.
"You're welcome," Slade responded before pulling out a chair for Y/N to sit in.
"Bruce, you're not going to say anything?" Tim asked. Bruce was indeed a man of few words but this was odd even for him.
"I mean I could but then I'd be a hypocrite because I did some stuff with Talia last week and I'm trying to be better. Alfred, please get our finest bourbon, make that three bottles," Bruce may not trust Slade but he still wanted to eat the dinner that Alfred painstakingly prepared.
"Y/N, can I speak to you before we start dinner?" DIck asked in his best big brother voice.
"Sure," Y/N followed him to a nearby hallway.
"He tried to kill me," Dick whispered a little loudly.
"But he's hot," Y/N admitted without shame.
"He's old," Dick was willing to try anything to deter Y/N from dating Slade Wilson, Deathstroke. A mercenary who had tried to kill him multiple times.
"He's a silver fox," Y/N argued back.
"Why are you with him?" Dick asked looking for a genuine answer from his sister.
"I like him and he's kinda funny. Plus he's got a real big-" Y/N's eyes widened as her arms widened to show the size of what she was talking about.
"Eww. I don't need to know that," Dick said covering his ears.
"I was going to say, heart," Y/N tried to be convincing.
"No, you weren't," Dick deadpanned.
"Okay, probably not,"
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xythlia · 4 months
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— NEON MOON
⤿ 2k event req for moje láska @darksisterswielder <3 I luv ur toji brainrot & im more than happy to keep it going mwah :3
mdni. possessiveness/jealousy + semi public. f!reader. bar scene. scammer reader & toji. emotional manipulation. reader likes playing mind game with him. creampie. readers in a skirt.
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He hates that you're the brightest thing in this grimy hole in the wall bar. He hates seeing you drape yourself against this oblivious dolt, hates hearing your glittery laugh drift over to him knowing he's not the cause of it this time.
Its supposed to be the easiest ruse in the book: distract and flatter someone who looks far too inebriated to catch on, wait for the right moment to slip your hand in his pocket for a wallet, and then flit off with some excuse to enjoy more drinks and dinner on the oblivious suckers dime before they realize all their cash was snatched under their nose.
So just what the fuck did you think you were doing?
Tojis grip on the bottle in front of him tightened dangerously, the glass miraculously holding out against the pressure as his jaw tightens. He's trying not to look, staring would tip off the bar flies around him at the counter, but you're making it a superhuman effort every time you touch that guy a little too much, laugh a little too earnestly.
Before he can consider the action he's already up, stool of ripped upholstery shrieking backwards from the sticky bartop and he's too focused on you to notice the raised brows of the few other patrons as he stalks over to you.
You, all over this no name fuck like you really want to know him. It just makes his internal pressure worse seeing you grin at him, narrowing your eyes as he grasps your upper arm a little too firmly, pulls you into his side a bit more forcefully than necessary.
Are you fucking enjoying this?
Tojis got every instinct to beat this sap bloody, but for a brief moment he regains control and opts to drag you out into the cold air of the night instead, ruse be damned.
"I was in the middle of something, you know," you snap, grasping his forearm and bringing you both to a halt inside the little side alley behind the bar.
Its the way your fingers subtly rub against his skin that tells him this is some weird game for you, that you're fucking with him and getting him wound up for the sake of it.
"And now you're not," he says bluntly, pushing you against the frigid brickwork. "What the hell was so funny in there anyway?"
You giggle again, enjoying this way too much as your eyes scan his face, that smirk returning to your features as his breathing turns harsher than usual.
"Oh you know, I kinda wanted to see if he could work me the way he said."
Its enough to make him see red.
"But why the hell do you care? Isn't this all "casual"?" You mock in air quotations.
And sure, that's what you both said every time you'd end up with each other at the end of a night or whenever you'd pull small time scams like this but knowing he wasn't the only one to see you, want you, made something tighten in his gut. Something he really didn't like to scrutinize too closely.
Without a word one calloused hand cradles the back of your head, the other keeping you caged against the bricks as he captured your lips in a searing kiss.
For your part you know everything that's in that kiss, can practically taste the insecurity and the naked plea he'd never be able to force out of his throat. But it's alright, because at the same time you know it means everything and nothing at all. He's not a man of grand promises or declarations.
What you don't know is just how territorial he really feels towards you, how often he finds himself in this position but rarely lets himself act on it. He knows you like your fucked up little games, and often chooses to ignore your efforts to wind him up. But goddamn you could wind him tighter than a spring most nights with just a sideways glance.
If asked he'd probably say it's because you're the best lay he's ever had, something gruff and vulgar just to make sure you don't feel too self important and so nobody really picks up on the internal chaos you sow in him. And while that's objectively true, you had this same effect on him well before he ever threw you on his bed and had you clawing at his back.
His lips move to devour the side of your neck and you can feel how hard he is, fingers sliding through his hair and tugging as his teeth graze your skin. Its almost a shame he's not the kind of guy to put on this show in front of anyone, but it's satisfying for you nevertheless.
Eagerly you stroke your palm against his erection through his pants, adrenaline and arousal shooting through your blood like an injection at the way he groans against your jaw. The air no longer feels artic against your skin, if anything you're surprised it's not steaming off you as you start sinking to your knees on the filthy asphalt.
Before you get too far he's stopping you, pressing his chest to yours a little harder, urging you to wrap one leg around his hip as his fingers clumsily push your damp underwear to the side and rub forcefully against your clit.
The stimulation catches you off guard, like being given ever so slight electric shocks as the calloused pads of his fingers slide over your clit, his mouth hot over yours in a kiss that's all tongue, teeth, and desperation. It strokes your ego in a similar way to him stroking your cunt, making you wetter as he pulls away to fumble with his waistband.
The real prize of the games you play with each other is this: feeling him lining up with you, the girth of his head pushing your walls apart as every subsequent inch of him slides inside you and makes your mouth drop open as the pain of the stretch gives way to intense pleasure.
His pelvic bone smacks against you rhythmically, body feeling like it's on fire with the need to keep your soaked cunt clamped around him, how overwhelming it feels to be inside you every time. His other hand comes to grab the nap of your neck, forcing you to keep your eyes on him as his forehead rests against yours.
"Think he could've fucked you like this?" He grunts out and his gaze makes you feel more pinned to the wall than anything. But he doesn't let you answer, focusing his fingers again on rubbing your aching clit and drinking down every moan and whimper you let out against his lips while he splits you open.
What he wouldn't give to have that limp fucker watching you two right now.
The thought spurs him on, thrusts getting harder and sloppier, taking every ounce of self control to not immediately cum when he feels your walls squeezing him in a stranglehold, the way your pussy sucks him back in with every thrust and obviously aching to milk him for everything he's got to give.
And give he does, only holding out for a few more particularly brutal thrusts that have you mewling and digging your fingers into his shoulders before flooding you with thick spurts of cum. He fucks through his own orgasm, swallow erratic thrusts as he glances down, feeling nearly dizzy at the way your body takes him and the creamy ring of white at the base of his cock.
His grip on your thigh tightens, a smug smile painting his features.
Only fair that the prize for your weird little game is being forced to walk home with his cum dripping from your pussy.
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hesbuckcompton-baby · 2 months
Text
I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 7
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Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 |-| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11
AO3
Summary: As they continue their stay at Coombe House, Rosie and Frankie find themselves ever more drawn to one another
Warnings: Language, mild injury description (blood), tension that makes me want to rip my own eyes out??? i think that counts
Word Count: 3.5k
Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58
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The chirp of crickets filled the air, a warm afternoon breeze blowing the grass this way and that as the Riveters played in the river, laughing and shouting as they splashed one another from the comfort of their rowing boats beneath the glow of the midday sun. People had warned Rosie about the temperamental British weather before he'd left Brooklyn, but it seemed the heavens had made an exception for their trip. Considerate, really.
Frankie had laid out a picnic blanket on the grassy slope overlooking the water, a half-eaten packet of crackers and a battered copy of The Young Visiters lying in her wake, the book so well-worn that its cover was halfway hanging off. The only problem was that Frankie herself was nowhere to be found, and Rosie sat quietly beside her blanket like a dog awaiting its master, thumbing the corner of his book, unable to finish a whole page without looking around for any sign of her.
The sound of footsteps muffled by the soft ground caught his attention, craning his neck to watch her bounding up behind him. She was wearing a stark red blouse and a pair of shorts that ended just above the knee, and for a moment he had to stop himself from staring at her legs as Frankie crouched beside him. Letting out a grunt, she tucked her feet beneath her as she sat down, holding out the teacup she had been carrying. "Here. Drink this."
It didn't even occur to Rosie to question her demand until he had upturned the cup, a foul, acrid taste stinging his tongue. Swiftly spitting whatever the disgusting liquid was back into its cup, he spluttered in revulsion. "What in God's name is that?!"
Frankie guffawed, a pink flush tinting her cheeks. "Pappy got distracted and accidentally poured his juice and his coffee into the same cup."
"So naturally you had to bring it straight out here to make me drink it?"
"Of course," She nodded as if it were obvious, rolling over to lie on her stomach, feet crossed over and swinging back and forth in the air. "In my defence, I'm only here so that I'll feel better, and that did work."
Rosie couldn't help but smirk, even in spite of the bitter taste that coated his tongue. Pilfering one of her crackers, he turned back to his book, shaking his head in silent, teasing disapproval. He assumed she had taken up reading herself, but instead, she began letting out a low, tutting sound, shaking her head. "Fuckin' horse riding?"
Putting down his book once again, he frowned down at her. "I thought you liked it here - are you still complaining about 'rich people hobbies'?" He raised a hand in quotation, mimicking her own words.
"I just don't get it," She continued to shake her head, watching the riders with narrowed eyes. "I mean - buy a bike? Cheaper. Don't have to feed it. Bikes also don't shit all over the place - I almost stepped in some on my way over here." The distaste was thick in her tone, and he couldn't help but smile, even as he scoffed in disbelief.
"You're so biased."
"I just don't think you have to spend obscene amounts of money to have a good time - if anything, I'm frugal."
"I can see that - you've read that book half to death, the poor thing."
"I think it's funny. At least I don't read depressing books about poor people dying like you," Frankie chuckled, jabbing a finger at his copy of Of Mice and Men. "Not exactly therapeutic."
"She's so judgy!" Rosie declared, lying backwards in the grass beside her blanket so that they could actually see each other's faces. A grin was plastered across his face, stuck still as he looked up at her - at the way the corners of her eyes creased when she laughed, and how her smile was always ever-so-slightly lopsided. She stared back at him, a twinkle in her eyes as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
"Hi," Frankie spoke sweetly.
"Hello."
It was silent for a long moment, their eyes locked, gentle smiles creasing their cheeks. Rosie felt the sudden urge to lean in.
"Hey, Frankie!" Bailey's voice rang from down in the river. He raised his head to look down the hill to the water, where Pappy was whispering something too quiet for him to hear, seemingly telling off the younger pilot for his interruption.
Frankie missed this part, too busy scrambling to her feet so she could descend the slope, anxious to hear what Bailey had to say. Rosie sighed, his head lolling back into the grass. Sometimes he was glad he was such a peaceful man, otherwise he swore he could've wrung Bailey's neck.
"Yeah, what's up?" She asked as she reached the edge of the water, the breeze blowing her hair out of place. Bailey paddled closer, ignoring Pappy's glare as he muttered his response to a conversation she hadn't heard the rest of.
"What? I'm allowed - he doesn't get a monopoly just because he fancies her," The man frowned, looking up at her with a smile as he approached. "Tennis rematch this afternoon?"
Frankie pushed his first statement out of her mind with a shrug. "Absolutely. Prepare to be destroyed," She grinned, shaking hands on the deal.
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Bailey and Frankie were both equally dreadful at tennis. His serves barely ever made it across the net, and she frequently tripped on her own feet whilst scrambling to return the ones that did. They spent most of their matches yelling at each other in frustration, and the staff at Coombe House frequently had to tell them off for disturbing the other residents. But the pair were determined to get a single good game in before the end of their stay.
They'd been going for an hour. They had made no more than four successful passes in all that time, and at some point Frankie had skidded on her knee, grazing the skin and leaving a thin rivulet of blood running down her shin. "Fuck!" She yelled, just clipping the ball with the edge of her racket as it zipped past her, hitting the fence with a thud.
"You sure you wanna keep going?" Bailey called from across the court, eyeing the wound on her leg as she scrounged for the ball, which had rolled under a nearby hedge.
"I don't wanna stop until we get a proper back-and-forth going," She shook her head, wiping dirt off of the ball onto her shorts as she poised for another serve.
Rosie wandered the path past the tennis courts, his footsteps crunching against the gravel, altogether too distracted as he neared the end of his book to notice the chatter rising over the hedge before a familiar voice let out a whoop. Using his thumb to mark the page, he descended the stone steps leading down to the courts, spying the pair on the furthest of the three, tucked out of the way of the other players. They had finally gotten a rhythm going, letting out wordless exclamations of joy whenever they managed to successfully bat the ball back across the net, laughter mingling with the incessant sound of rackets colliding with the ball.
"Hey, you got it!" He cried, teeth bared in a grin.
"SHUT UP!" The pair yelled simultaneously, desperate not to break their concentration. Rosie chuckled, his smile fading slightly as he noticed Frankie's injury, the top layer of skin on her right knee now a bright patch of red, blooming with blood as it pooled in droplets on the surface.
"Gotta keep it up Rosie, I'm winning!" Bailey declared gleefully, sending the ball spinning back towards Frankie, narrowly missing the net.
"You're winning?" She cried, diving forward to return it, almost losing her balance but managing to clear the net. "Are you fucking blind?!"
"Hey, Frank, are you ok?" Rosie called, thumbing the corner of his book. Another line of blood had begun to seep down past her kneecap.
"It's nothing," Frankie sent the ball spinning towards Bailey, but he was just too slow, and it soared past his head into the shrubs. She let out a shriek, racket held above her head in victory. "See! I win!"
"Alright, alright," Bailey shook his head in defeat, crouching down to rummage for the lost ball. "Just go clean yourself up, it's distracting."
"Thank you," Rosie agreed with a nod. She held her racket out to him as he approached, and he accepted it without a second thought, only realising after a moment that he had no idea what to do with it. But by then Frankie was already at the top of the steps, peering down at her bloody knee. "C'mon, let's go in," He said as he caught up, discarding the racket upon a nearby bench, his palm skimming across her back as he guided her towards the house.
As nasty as the graze appeared, Frankie appeared completely unphased, a testament to the roughhousing games she had played as a girl. They made their way through the halls of Coombe House, the staff shooting her a few sideways glances, largely in fear of having to clean any blood out of the antique rugs. He followed her up the main staircase and through to their corridor, making a beeline for the shared bathroom at the end of the hall.
Frankie entered without a word, perching herself on the edge of the porcelain bathtub and hiking up her leg, leaving a muddy footprint on the clean, white rim as she attempted to pull out a few tiny stones with her fingers.
"Stop it!" Rosie seized her wrist, wrenching her hand away and shooting her a confounded look as he crossed towards the sink to wash his hands.
"I can do it," She whined, throwing up her hands.
"Not after trying that shit - you're banned from trying," He shook his head, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. Frankie almost snorted with laughter at how serious he was taking their present situation. Rosie took a moment of silent consideration before leaving the room in search of a first aid kid, and she let out a long sigh, tapping her foot impatiently against the polished wood floor.
By the time he returned, there was a white towel crumpled on the floor, stained scarlet by the blood she had wiped away with it. "Who raised you?" He scoffed, crouching down on the floor in front of her, tossing the stained towel aside.
"Speaking of, you should meet my dad," Frankie grinned, kicking off her dirty shoe and placing her foot in his lap as instructed. "You'd like him."
Rosie began to disinfect the wound, carefully removing the debris, and she fought the urge to wince at the stinging sensation. "I'm sure I would, he raised you," The words came forth faster than he could process them, and for a moment he paused, one hand hovering above her injury, the other gripping the bare skin of her calf to keep her from moving. Their position wasn't compromising per se, but it wasn't exactly proper either. Nevertheless, the sudden thought of someone intruding on them made him squirm, and he got up to lock the bathroom door without a word.
Frankie's brow raised at this, the sudden, deliberate movement raising all sorts of questions. "God, this is taking an interesting turn," She blurted, internally cringing at the type of subtly-suggestive jokes the boys she used to work with in the garage liked to make.
He turned back to look at her. "... Were you just flirting with me?"
"I think so, yes."
Rosie frowned, considering this very seriously as she searched his expression for some indication of how he felt. "... Hm." Without another word, he resumed his place in front of her, beginning to dress her knee.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Frankie was almost irritated, but she could feel the sweat clamming his palms as they touched her bare skin and suddenly he wasn't as calm as he seemed. She fought to hide her smirk as he finished dressing the graze, nodding in satisfaction at his work. "There." His voice was quieter than usual, unsteady.
"Thanks," She spoke hurriedly, her perch on the edge of the bathtub becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Pushing herself up to stand, Frankie bent down to grab the blood-stained towel off of the floor. "Oh, I'll clean that before it stains-"
"No, that's ok, I can do it," Rosie assured her, seizing its other side. Neither of them was quite looking the other in the eye.
"You sure? I mean, it's my mess, I really don't mind-"
"I'm sure."
Frankie nodded slowly, letting her grip on the towel slip away. "Alright then," She turned to the door, unlocking it with a click, and by the time Rosie looked back to where she had been, she was gone. His heart had been thumping in his chest, too fast for comfort, and only once he was alone could he heave in a long, steady breath to slow it down. Glancing down at the floor, he chuckled.
She had forgotten her shoe.
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Steam filled the bathroom, rising to the ceiling and coating the windows in a film of grey as Rosie sank beneath the hot water, revelling in the feeling as it covered him completely, the feeling of warmth seeping through his skin as if it wished to take rest within his very bones. He splashed a handful across his face, blinking away the droplets on his eyelashes as he let out a sigh, leaning back against the side of the tub.
Frankie had spent almost all of last night's dinner talking about her tennis match with Bailey, hardly sparing him a second glance. He knew he shouldn't have taken issue with it - she was friends with all of the flight crew by now - but he found himself staring, as if waiting desperately for her to meet his eye. He hadn't seen her at breakfast at all. She deserved the lie in - that's what he told himself. But it was becoming increasingly impossible for Rosie to think about anything else.
The bathroom door swung swiftly open and shut, and he slid downwards until the water reached his chin, desperately trying to cover the most indecent parts of himself. He could've sworn he'd locked that door. It was almost midday, but Frankie was still in her pyjamas, brow furrowed as she read the newspaper she was holding in one hand, a glass of orange juice and a cigarette steadily burning away in the other. By the look of her, she hadn't realised he was there at all, taking a seat upon the closed toilet lid as she used the light of the windows to read by.
“Morning,” She spoke nonchalantly, such a calm acknowledgement of his naked presence that it was almost more jarring than the intrusion itself. For a moment Rosie could do nothing but gape, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish as he searched for something to say.
"... Do you mind?"
Her gaze flitted away from the newspaper and met his eyes for a moment. He shrank farther below the surface of the water, praying to God she couldn't see anything below the rim of the tub. Her expression showed no recognition of what he was referring to. After a moment of silence, Frankie shrugged. “Nothing I haven't seen before.”
“It's everything you haven't seen before!” Rosie cried, almost bolting upwards again before remembering what was happening.
"No, but like. In general," She was peering back down at her newspaper, finishing off her juice. Her cigarette was almost entirely burnt out, but she took one last puff before tossing it into the empty glass as if it were an ashtray.
He blinked slowly. "Frankie. Why are you here."
"Sun's on this side of the house," Frankie replied as if it were a normal answer to give - as if her room didn't have electric lighting, as if she weren't sitting a mere ten feet away from his nakedness. Even in a bathroom as huge as this one, it was making him nervous. She seemed to be able to sense it. "D'you want me to leave?"
"Yes. I think so."
She nodded, standing up to go, her eyes still locked on the paper as she made for the door. Before he even knew what he was saying, he spoke. "Wait."
Frankie looked up, smiling slightly at the way his head peeked over the edge of the bathtub, his cheeks flushed bright red. "You don't have to... if you don't want to. I mean, as long as you're not lookin'-"
"I didn't come in here with the intention of staring at your arse, Captain," She shook her head, chuckling as she returned to her perch.
"Why did you?"
"I told you. Good lighting."
He shook his head. It sounded like bullshit to him. But if it was the story she was sticking with, Rosie wasn't going to keep prying. "Just throw me a towel, will ya?" He shook his head, reaching an arm out to catch it as she tossed one across the room from where they had been stacked beside the radiator.
Frankie kept her word, turning her back as he rose out of the still-warm water, wrapping the towel around his waist as a single, wet curl dangled in front of his face.
"Uh. Frankie?"
"Hm?"
"You're sitting next to my clothes."
He'd left them folded in a pile on the floor where they couldn't get wet, which just so happened to now be right next to her feet. She bent down, snatching the pile and holding it out to him, her gaze still purposely fixed on her reading. But as he reached out to take it, his belt slid from atop his shirt, landing on the floor with a clatter.
"Shit," Frankie muttered, and the pair moved to retrieve it simultaneously. She caught a glimpse of him and for a moment she froze, her face heating up and turning a fierce red. "Uh, no, this is weird, I'm just gonna... go."
Leaping to her feet, she began hurriedly making to leave, gaze fixed on the door handle to prevent it from wandering anywhere near him. Rosie nodded hurriedly, attempting to shrug on his shirt whilst still holding up the towel with one hand. "I'm sorry," He blurted, although what he was apologising for he couldn't quite say.
The moment he spoke, she turned on her heel, tossing her newspaper onto the floor. She'd been back and forth across that room so many times she was starting to feel dizzy. Or maybe it wasn't that. Her heart was beating too fast for her body, and she let out a huff of air as she crossed the room towards him, taking his damp face in her hands. Rosie's chest rose and fell over and over as he stared back at her, their noses almost touching from the closeness.
She wasn't sure she'd ever seen eyes so... blue.
His breath hitched in his throat as she tilted her head upwards, their lips in line with one another's. He'd barely have to move to kiss her now, warm breath fanning his cheek.
A knock came at the door, and Frankie pulled away so fast it was as if she'd been electrocuted, unable to breathe as she waited for whoever was outside to speak.
"Sergeant Bevan?" The voice of one of the staff members came, a warm, American lilt to her greeting. "There's a call for you downstairs."
She swallowed hard, her throat so dry it hurt. "I'll be there in a sec," Frankie called in return, her words shaky. Pausing for a moment, entirely unmoving, she broke the stillness with a firm nod, reaching for her stuff as she stepped towards the door.
"Frankie, wait," Rosie whispered, moving to follow, careful not to speak loud enough for the woman outside to hear. "Just wait a sec, can we-"
"I need to go," She met his eyes, and for a moment he was drowning in the sheer indecipherable nature of her expression. Her thoughts had always been a mystery to him, and now was no different.
He stepped behind the door as she opened it, obscuring himself from the view of anyone outside, fighting the urge to reach out to her as she left. The door closed behind her with a gentle click, and then he was alone, the room feeling suddenly twice as large and empty as it had before. Rosie let out a deep breath, pressing his forehead against the wood with a faint thud.
"... Dammit."
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hopeforkitten · 3 months
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thanks to my head, which thought what if the devils were molting. (if we consider the skin of the cambions, then they have scales)
• you lived in the house of hope for a long time and seemed to know all its features. although, you probably should never say that you know everything about devils.
you returned from the balcony in the archive and did not expect to see an incubus here. Haarlep was sitting with his legs over the armrest and reading a book with an extremely bored look, flipping through the pages with one claw. how could this personification of feline nature leave the cozy bed of the boudoir? And why?
"Oh, Haarlep, why are you here?"
"Hello little mouse! Well, I'm obviously not here of my own free will." he was very inspired by your voice. "Perhaps you will find the answer to this question in my former place of residence." his eyes took on their usual cunning gleam, causing you to distrust.
"And what am I going to find there?..."
"Oh, you haven't seen him in his period yet" he let go of the book and made a gesture of quotation marks "Go, go, I'm impatient to find out how everything will go" he waved his hand towards the doors and you headed the same way.
Along the way, you wondered what could be the reason for Raphael's unexpected mood. Anyway, you haven't done anything wrong, so why should you be afraid of his anger, right?
The boudoir barrier let you through, and from afar you saw Raphael sitting with his back to you and fidgeting erratically. His housecoat was held on his hips by a belt, and his upper body was naked. He diligently moved his wings, even tried to scratch their hard edge against the horns, as well as scratch his shoulders with his hands and tried unsuccessfully to reach the base of the wings.
"maybe I can help?"
You said hesitantly. Raphael didn't even notice how you walked from the entrance to the edge of the bed. He looked at you briefly with displeasure.
"and this is you. go ahead and try it."
He turned back and waited for your actions. you swallowed and hesitantly stroked the base of your wings.
"No mouse, use your claws," Raphael barked back at you.
you started scratching the shoulder blade of the wings with your short nails and it did real magic to him. He let out a sigh of relief and tilted his head back a little. such a reaction was more than enough to make you do it for hours.
• This was just the beginning of Raphael's molt. the symptoms are a bad mood and scabies. while the various stages of his molting were going on, he always lingered on the first one - denial. He hated this time. Raphael was too sensitive and imperfect during this period. Everything should always be perfect in it, both appearance and endurance. But this rare period spoils all his plans.
during the molt, he canceled all his business and did not leave the house of hope. without you, he used to wait it out alone in the boudoir, moving around in short forays from there. it is better not to catch his eye at this moment.
However, with you.... he won't say it, but molting with you has become a pleasant vacation. To you, he grumbles nonstop, like a very big moody child. but your presence changed everything... you scratch his back and wings, smear him with moisturizer, (gently stroke his shiny new scales and admire his beauty? yes, please) sit by the pool while he soaks and only his head sticks out of the water.
you will timidly help him with the removal of dead skin, asking if it hurts him. (imagine how much work his wings need)
• You also became the devil's personal pillow during this period. He just won't let you go a step away from him, with the rare exception when you need to leave the boudoir and bring him something. it's better not to linger chatting with Haarlep, it can cost you dearly.
since his diabolical work was suspended, he switched from contracts to fiction and read it in tandem with you.
He was going into cat mode. Today, practically the archdevil wants to spend the day in bed, and you pathetic little man will be my pillow and a scratcher and bring me a book or soothing tea and I'll eat your soul if you disobey, yes.
• Raphael is horrified to realize that he has been scratching the skin surrounding the horns several times a day. this means that after the back and wings, the skin on the face will be renewed... Oh, how he doesn't like it. the mouse does not stare at him, you are on thin ice and now he will obviously spend more time using you as a pillow so that you cannot stare at him
• it will be strange when this ends and the former strict and perfect Raphael returns to you, and he will never bring up this topic. however, before the next molt, he will send you an order to come to the boudoir and it's good that you already know how to help him.
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Why is Annabeth known as a badass strategist and leader?
Genuine question btw. Annabeth has this reputation in the fandom as being 'the best strategist and leader.' What are her top ten impressive moments? I want quotations from the books in the notes and reblogs. Gimme.
TLT: There's the moment in the tunnel of love where Annabeth has the plan to jump using the force of the wave to catapult them over the fence. But the thing is Annabeth miscalculated; if not for Grover intercepting their fall with Luke's shoes they would've fallen on solid concrete and gotten injured or died.
SoM: Annabeth's significant moment in this moment from what I remember is when she used her invisibility cap to lure Polyphemus away from the cave. But she was essentially copying a past hero? And her plan didn't even work as Polyphemus caught her and Annabeth spent the next several chapters being injured/rescued and leaving all the fighting to Percy, Clarisse and Grover.
BOTL: Annabeth was under a lot of pressure due to the last lines of the prophecy, which is understandable. Except instead of coping with that pressure by making plans and relying on her quest mates, she falls apart. She was suppose to be the leader of that quest. And yet in the beginning of the book she loses Grover and Tyson and doesn't find them - doesn't even know they're still alive - until near the end. She leaves Percy in Mount Helens where he's tortured and almost killed. Where are her master strategies? How did she lead them to victory? It was Percy who got Rachel to lead them through the labyrinth, and Grover was the MVP (with Pan's powers) in the actual battle at chb.
TLO: Did Annabeth even have any strategies in this book? She had Dedalus's laptop for about a year - and yet Athena and Hermes (who were very busy fighting Typhon and getting their asses kicked) had to take the time to send a message that was essentially "You have a resource (Dedalus's statue plan in the laptop) sitting in your lap. It's been there for an entire year. Use it." Malcom was the one to lead the Athena cabin while Annabeth followed Percy.
PJO, in general: Annabeth was the Athena cabin leader for all the books. She was co-leader with Luke (if I remember correctly) in the first capture the flag game where she pitted Percy vs. Clarisse & siblings by the river.
MOA: Imo this was the only book where Annabeth really shined. Annabeth's strategy to trap Arachne was amazing until Arachne won by fucking pulling Annabeth into Tartarus, where Percy was the one to defeat Archane in an instant. Annabeth finding the Athena's statue on her own by travelling alone and weaving over the chasm (if I remember correctly) was amazing. But then Rick went and invalidated that by having the other Seven blow open the roof and take the AP, without any help or instruction from Annabeth.
HoO general: Did Annabeth have any leadership moments? I remember seeing a lot of headcanons about it, but in the books all I could find was the poorly written pissing match between Jason and Percy. If anyone could share quotes where Annabeth acts like a leader that would be awesome.
So in summary, for Annabeth's badass strategist and leadership moments:
Being senior Athena cabin leader in the first 4 books.
Annabeth co-leading capture the flag in tlt with Luke
Annabeth travelling to the AP and getting past obstacles like the chasm by weaving (if I remember correctly) in MOA
Annabeth confronting her fears (spiders) and trapping Archane in MOA.
I breezed over most of the series because it's been a long time since I read it while paying specific attention to Annabeth, so I'm sure I missed stuff because tumblr pjo fandom loves Annabeth, so surely there's some content supporting that? Like that admiration isn't soley built on headcanons right?
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a-big-apple · 3 months
Text
Gideon, Harrow, and "Wedding Vows"
i frequently see the interpretation that this:
"The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die: and there will I be buried. The Lord do so and so to me, and add more also, if aught but death part me and thee," said Gideon. (GtN 438)
plus this:
"If I forget you, let my right hand be forgotten," her mouth was saying. "Add more also, if aught but death part me and thee." And, unsteadily: "Griddle." (HtN 360)
plus this:
It didn't even matter when Kiriona said, "Sure, Cam. Marry a moron, then die. I get the urge." (NtN 372)
equals Gideon and Harrow are married! crying face emoji!
i'm not disparaging that interpretation, i think it's valid and has some basis in the text, and even if it wasn't/didn't, i think fans should have all the fun they want. but for me, it doesn't fully capture the complexity of what Gideon and Harrow are to each other, and i want to explore a slightly less straightforward reading.
Catholic weddings, vows, and Ruth under the cut ;)
Gideon and Ninth House traditions
let's start with Gideon quoting Ruth. i've seen folks repeating the idea that this is a wedding vow. it's more accurate to say that this is a verse often used as a wedding vow, in other denominations of Christianity, and secularly as well. but in a (traditional) Catholic wedding, the couple can't write or choose their own vows--the Celebration of Matrimony has specific text, with one or two variations, that is always used.
now, we haven't seen a Ninth House marriage ceremony. if we do see such a thing in AtN and discover that Ruth 1:17 is part of that tradition, i will cry a million happy queer tears about it. but i think it's somewhat likely that Gideon has never even seen a Ninth House wedding, given how small and trending elderly the population is, and that we know no couples in her lifetime have had kids other than the Reverend Parents.
what i'm getting at here is that this quotation from Ruth doesn't seem, to me, to represent something that's religiously or traditionally binding in Ninth House culture. it uses some similar language to Catholic marriage vows, "until death do us part" etc, but i don't think these are words that make them married in the eyes of the Ninth or the Houses at large, i think these are words Gideon has chosen as a specific expression of her devotion. and where does she get them from, if not some Ninth House ceremony or scripture?
well, this is a slightly longer stretch, but at the point in the story when Gideon says this, she's already dead. Harrow has begun to absorb her--and thanks to "The Unwanted Guest," we know that souls are porous, permeable, and rub off on each other when they're in contact. Gideon's soul is at this moment being integrated into Harrow's; Harrow has certainly read all kinds of books on the Ninth ranging from usual to totally heretical, some of them probably extremely old, and it's not unreasonable to think writings from before the Resurrection might have been copied and recopied into something Harrow could access. And speaking of soul permeability, Harrow's had Alecto's soul clinging onto hers for seven years, and Alecto's soul is in intimate contact with John's soul--there are so many ways for this bit of scripture to make its way into Gideon's non-corporeal mouth. the STI (Soulfully Transmitted Infection) of biblical knowledge.
Ruth in context
now let's talk a little about Ruth, the book of the Bible and also the character of the Bible, and Naomi, who she is swearing her devotion to. tl;dr, Naomi and her husband and two grown sons are Israelites who immigrate to Moab, a "pagan" nation, to escape famine. Naomi's two sons marry Moabite women; then the sons both die, as does Naomi's husband. Naomi, having lost everything, decides to return home where she'll be penniless and have a bad life but at least she'll be among her people; she tells her two daughters-in-law to go back to their families. One of them goes.
The other, Ruth, refuses, and swears beautiful devotion to Naomi, as we've heard Gideon quote: "She answered: Be not against me, to desire that I should leave thee and depart: for whithersoever thou shalt go, I will go: and where thou shalt dwell, I also will dwell. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die: and there will I be buried. The Lord do so and so to me, and add more also, if aught but death part me and thee."
in a biblical context, this has nothing to do with a wedding vow. Ruth is promising to leave the comfort of her own people, religion, and homeland to stay with her mother-in-law Naomi, even though the connection they had (Naomi's son, Ruth's husband) is gone, and all they have to look forward to is a terrible life of grief and bitterness. this is frequently interpreted as a parallel to Jesus, who (in the religious perspective) made the sacrifice of leaving his place with God and becoming human out of devotion to humanity, in order to live and suffer and redeem us. woof, this is giving me flashbacks to CCD.
of course, many Christians resist interpreting what passes between Ruth and Naomi as resembling a wedding vow for homophobic reasons too--making it about Jesus is a way to make it less queer--but i think the point still stands that this is a more complicated, and less marriage-related, expression of love than it seems taken on its own.
Harrow's lamentation
when Harrow later echoes it back, she conflates it with a different biblical quotation: "On the willows in the midst thereof we hung up our instruments. For there they that led us into captivity required of us the words of songs. And they that carried us away, said: Sing ye to us a hymn of the songs of Sion. How shall we sing the song of the Lord in a strange land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand be forgotten. Let my tongue cleave to my jaws, if I do not remember thee: If I make not Jerusalem the beginning of my joy."
it's a lament, an expression of mourning, a longing for home from someone who has been forcibly removed from it. when combined with the Ruth quotation, in which Ruth is giving up her home in her devotion, this really reads to me as both Harrow's grief, immediate and overpowering, and a realization that Gideon is her home, and failing to acknowledge that is as disabling as the loss of a hand or of the power of speech. Gideon is the beginning of her joy, and Harrow is, in this moment, putting Gideon above the Ninth House in her devotion. above Alecto. above everything.
and again, i'm not saying all of that can't be about marriage, but it's about a relationship much more complicated than marriage can encompass in the context House cultural norms.
Kiriona Gaia, saddest girl
this brings me to Kiriona, and "marry a moron, then die." consider the context of this, and the tone. Kiriona's deeply, deeply hurt. the saddest girl in the universe. she died for Harrow, avowed her devotion to Harrow, and then (from her perspective) was rejected; buried; excised from Harrow's brain and then from her body. Kiriona, as she did when she was Gideon, covers her emotions with humor and sarcasm. i suspect she's even less able to handle being vulnerable as Kiriona than she ever was before. she's making light of Canaan House and what happened there, and it's only in sarcastically downplaying what she's been through that she recounts her relationship to Harrow as a marriage--something she has almost no positive examples of, something that is in her experience frequently political and joyless. also notably, she frames it as a marriage that occurred before she died.
Their actual vow
what Gideon (and Kiriona) really wants--she tells us over and over again--is to be a true cavalier.
and what does Gideon's ghost repeat right before she devastates us with Ruth 1:17?
"One flesh, one end," said Gideon, and it was a murmur now, on the very edge of hearing. Harrow said, "Don't leave me." (GtN 438)
it's taken me a dozen paragraphs just to propose that this is their vow. "One flesh, one end" are the actual words that need to be spoken, in Gideon and Harrow's cultural context, to bring them into an official union with each other; a union that is arguably more fundamental in the Houses, and certainly more complicated, than a marriage. a union Gideon specifically wants, and has seen in action.
in the pool, they vow to each other as cavalier and necromancer. in the moments before Gideon's death, she forgives Harrow again, and exposes her heart: "'You know I only care about you,' she said in a brokenhearted rush" (GtN 430). then she repeats their oath again, acknowledges the pain she's about to cause for Harrow, and rededicates herself to the Ninth--a place she never really belonged, Harrow's home and people more than her own, as Ruth dedicated herself to Naomi's home and people. Gideon "married" her moron in the pool, and now she dies to fulfill that vow.
and as we saw above, after Gideon's death, she reminds Harrow again of their union--of its importance, of how she's fulfilling what she has interpreted to be her whole purpose as a cavalier--and it's in response to Harrow's "don't leave me" that Gideon offers a final reassurance of her devotion. in her mind, this sacrifice is its ultimate expression, the most inextricable and undeniable union two people can achieve.
Gideon believes she'll be part of Harrow forever.
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derangedrhythms · 10 months
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But in the very pit of her, in her veins and arteries and sinews, she knew she loved this unknown man.
Tara M. Stringfellow, from 'Memphis'
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vanquishedjelly · 1 year
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Mission Accomplished
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HellBoy x Reader
Summary- You and HellBoy have been flirting back and forth. Waiting for each other to make a move. Battling to see who will react first. What will happen when you take the flirting up a notch?
A/N- I love the thought of how flirty HellBoy is, and I love the thought of someone else flirting just as much with him (if not more) and so my imagination took hold. Enjoy!
It's been a few years since I've joined B.P.R.D. When I was asked to join I didn't think I would be of much use. I only have Intention/Emotion Sense, both of which I couldn't see being useful on missions, but nevertheless they ushered me to join and I am so glad they did. When I first met Abraham and HellBoy I was blown away by their abilities (and their looks, not gonna lie). Almost feeling slightly lesser than, but Abe was the first to speak up and quickly dismissed those thoughts (which is how i found out he could read minds… crazy, right?) HellBoy on the other hand was kind of stand off-ish?.. is the only way I can put it. His Emotion showed neutrual- no like nor dislike- like he didn't expect me to be around for very long, so he didn't really see the need in putting much time in friendly conversation. Understandable. The first few months it was just me and Abe, goofing about. Normally talking about the books in the library, the missions he and HellBoy has been on- which HellBoy made sure to chime in every now and then to add small details in the stories as he could. Or just chilling- Abe in his tank munching on his god awful smelly eggs and me sitting in the big chair in the library with my phone talking about whatever crossed our minds. Slowly but surely HellBoy started sitting down with us in the library, speaking up a lot more about stories, or even asking my thoughts on random things. I was curious and I felt his intentions, wholeheartedly friendly and emotions were slightly nervous at times, so I opened up to his interactions quickly. After that, me and him talked damn near on a daily basis. Finding out how much of a flirt he was and how much of a goofball he was, was a rollercoaster to say the least- especially on my first mission. Oh lord… You should've seen his face when I started flirting back just as much. I didn't even need to sense to see how surprised he was.
_ "Hey, (y/n), you still with us?" I quickly look up from my forgotten book, staring wide eyed at HellBoy, who was leaning against the door frame. It wasn't hard to sense that his intention was to find me. "Ok, I gotta know what you're thinkin' bout to get that look on your face." He says, his laughter showing through his tone. I tilt my head, "I had a look on my face?" He nods, "yeah, smilin' from ear to ear," he motions his finger towards my face, "and with that far away look, i know it wasn't because of what you're reading." I laugh and shrug slightly, "didn't know i was so easy to read." I sigh, the same reminiscing smile reappears on my face, "just remembering my first few months here." I close the book in my lap and set it aside as HellBoy walks further into the library, almost towering over me. "yeah, I remember the look you gave me when i walked into the room." He says, "the way I saw your pupils dilate." He whistles in emphasis, " I just know you was marveling in how hot i was." I huff out a laugh. "Oh, ab-so-lutley!" staring up at him, "I was so hot and bothered i didn't know what to do with myself." i half joke, fanning myself. He lets out a hearty laugh. "so, you've found me, what'd you need?" I ask "Manning has another" he makes air quotations, " 'Gas leak' for us to fix before it gets too outta hand." I nod, "He needs all of us in the meeting room in 30 minutes to talk about the details." I stand up, "alright, gives me the perfect amount of time to take a shower and get ready." I say absentmindedly walking towards the door with him in tow. "without me?" he says, I can hear his grin in his voice. "yes, without you." I whip around, halting him in his tracks. I run my hands up and down his chest in sensual motions "baby I'd take my time with you, so I don't think we'd make it to the meeting." I smirk. I can basically see the wheels turning in his head, imagining all the things that would entail that moment. "Is that a promise?" He says, his voice in between a whisper and a growl. I can physically feel his arousal build. "Maybe." I smile. He takes a quick intake of breath. 'gotcha' I think to myself. "but," I say, slightly pulling away, "I don't wanna hear Mannings' bitching about us running late." He growls. He raises his hands, about to wrap his arms around my waist, but I whip around and start walking away before he can. I smile to myself as I can feel how frustrated he is.
Mission accomplished.
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takuyakistall · 4 months
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brewing mishaps
Ace found a book containing recipes for potions. How far will curiosity get him? — Pomefiore!Ace x Reader
Note: hi.... hello........ (dusts off cobwebs) this is kinda embarrassing posting again after i said i wld no longer post 🙈
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Ace had always known that Pomefiore offered a wide array of potion recipes hidden away in thick tomes that collected dust in shelves. It wasn't forbidden to browse through them, of course, it was already a given that dangerous mixes were stored away safely and away from students.
Which is why Ace was a little baffled, a little confused, as to why there was a recipe for a potion that supposedly alters one's feelings "permanently". He wondered why the text had quotation marks but quickly shook his head as he continued to gloss over the pages.
The ink was fading, he could barely make out some words or whole paragraphs. Frustration threatened to shut the book closed and shove it back to its place in the shelf until his eyes caught a few words that read: This potion... Works... Love...
"Ha?"
Hold on, isn't that basically saying this is a love potion? Permanent effects too?? Isn't that seriously bad???
The thought of asking Vil came across his mind but he shooed the thought away when he promptly put back the book in its original spot on the shelf. He shouldn't try and dabble in this sort of thing...
—or so he thought. He wanted to find out the reason why he was in the greenhouse, looking for potion ingredients.
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"Get away from me." Oh, the look on his face was priceless. He was under the assumption that the potion he threw together haphazardly would work as intended. The small vial that was supposed to work as a love potion did the exact opposite—Wait, wait, wait. What's going on?
Vil called him an idiot. He was under the impression that Ace knew better than to follow a recipe for a potion whose description could be barely read with the ink fading away. He managed to exceed his expectations in the worst way and now he was facing the consequences of picking the forbidden fruit that granted him knowledge. Now that he took a bite, he was cast away.
It was curious; how far would he go to be welcomed back? It was simple. Constant begging got him somewhere with Vil who was tired and sick from his junior tailing him around the corridors and even went as far as to enter his room unprompted. Needless to say, one way to get Ace off his back was to appease him.
"Huh," was all Ace could respond with when Vil gave him the remedy.
"Don't give me that blank look? Were you expecting something awfully romantic like a true love's kiss will wake them from the spell?" Vil's tone was sharp, mostly because he was at his limit dealing with his antics. "There is no such thing as a potion with permanent effects that is out in the open in the dormitory. It was most likely vandalized."
"So you're telling me that the best I can do is wait for it to wear off?" Ace tilted his head, a little doubtful of his dorm leader's words. "Are you sure? Cause it's gonna hurt a lot if it ends up being permanent."
"It's the consequences of your actions. Deal with it. I trust that you'll know better than to make your friend drink a potion in the future."
"Yes, yes..."
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Frankly, Ace didn't buy it. It was his tendency to overthink that led him to approaching you once more with his usual smile on his face, waving at you mischievously as if nothing changed between the two of you.
"Yo! What's up?"
"Ha? I told you to get away from me before." Your reply was ice cold. Ace faltered a little but he made sure to cover it up quickly with another comment.
"Aww, c'mon, don't be like that! We're best buddies, aren't we?" He tried to wrap his hand around your neck but was pushed away swiftly. "You can't seriously hate me forever because of some potion."
"Isn't this your fault?"
"Geh... Nevermind that. I just wanna focus on getting you back to normal."
"This is the new normal. Get used to it."
"Nuh-uh. Vil told me that the effects would wear off eventually so maybe talking to you like this would speed up the process." Ace grinned, clearly trying his best to look unfazed. "Maybe even doing the things we used to do would shake off the effects."
"No? I really don't want to talk to you right now. This is a waste of time— Woah!?" Getting pulled by the arm was certainly one way to bring you back closer. Ace wanted to get this over as quickly as possible and he would go to such lengths to ensure that it would happen. If this doesn't work, then he'll have to march up to Vil again and beg for another remedy.
"Prepare yourself! We're gonna do every single thing we used to do!"
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intplayboy · 1 year
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TOUCH - MAFIA! BTS OT7 X F! READER [ TWO ]
if you would like to part of the tag list complete the form.
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summary: yoongi gets stuck in an awkward situation. and the next day, the gang is confronted with startling evidence that makes them rethink all they've known about their world over the last two decades and drives them to set out to investigate the truth.
pairings: mafia bts ot7 x experimented human female reader
genre: mafia au | moderate? angst | romance | sci-fi | action | fluff
warnings: mentions of guns, explosions, bone breaking, swearing, and violence.
word count: 8,094 (combined two chapters again)
masterpost | one | three
tag list: @juju-227592, @drunkzseok, @yourgirlcin, @babybunli, @xanny91, @bibetsa, @borahae-reads, @lalavione1309, @luvsbngtn, @tetehearts, @singukieee, @serendididy, @quixoticbittersweet, @iriaachan, @jksisbunntboy, @missseoulite, @xjiminsthighsx, @just-vaaalll, @chim-possible, @passionandsuga, @deadrose287, @kalala22, @bangtanxberm, @scuzmunkie, @sunoosult, @germ2001, @lovelgirl22, @thvkives, @kourtney-fairy-blog, @linlinlily, @getinthetardissammy-sh, @prakriti-j, @paramedicnerd004, @cuteipat, @iamkookiesforyou (the tags that are strikethrough could not be tagged)
copyright © 2022 by kumiko. all rights reserved. my works or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without express written permission from me except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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"Here's the room." Yoongi huffs, as he opens the door, revealing another extravagant room. And it's conveniently the farthest away from the rest of us, so we don't have to deal with you, he thought.
You remain in your place, unsure of what to do, causing him to turn to face you. "What are you waiting for? Go in and take a look, you might be staying here for a while anyway."
You then enter the elegantly designed room and instinctively turn your head to study the area. "This... mine?"
"No, it's simply a place for you to sleep for the time being. It isn't yours." He spat, desperate to get out of this predicament that had been forced upon him.
30 minutes ago
"Why me! Ask Jimin, Jungkook, or even Taehyung! They're the ones who are most interested in this problem." He argues.
"You were being an asshole to her, that's why. I understand that this is a strange and unfamiliar circumstance for all of us, but she still managed to heal me." Namjoon reasoned, but Yoongi's agitated expression stayed the same. "Hobi-hyung, Jin-hyung? A little help here?"
"Leave Hobi out of this." The man with the scar hissed.
The blonde-haired man sighed. "Well, I did vote for her to stay. And this is because, after observing her, she didn't appear to be a threat."
"Not yet at least." He scoffs.
"How about looking at it this way, she could be a useful asset to us." Jin pitched in.
Yoongi's brows furrowed at him. "How?"
"She did heal Namjoon. Those kinds of injuries normally take days to completely heal, but she did it in an instant." He explains. "You can't tell me something like that isn't advantageous."
Namjoon nods. "Jin is right. Perhaps having her stay will benefit all of us."
"Or it might prove to be problematic for us. You're all being overoptimistic."
"And you're being overly pessimistic." The leader snaps back.
Oranyan clenches his jaw. "Well, I'm sorry if I want to protect all of us, and the years of blood, sweat, and tears we invested in."
"That is not anything you should be concerned about. That is not your job; it is mine." Namjoon narrows his gaze.
The words of the leader leave him slightly stunned, rendering him speechless as he takes a step back. How could he go against it, knowing how right he was?
"Fine. I'll take care of that measly girl for you." He scoffs as he walks out of the room, the tension in the air never dissipating.
back to present
"—ank you," Yoongi is snapped out of his thoughts by an innocent tiny voice belonging to the nameless girl.
"What did you say?" He asks, startled.
You glance at him warily. "T-thank you. R-room is nice."
When he notices your demeanor towards him, a small twinge of guilt rushes through him. But he immediately ignores it, remembering that you're the cause of his and Namjoon's disagreement.
"Uh- Sure? It's the smallest room out of all the rooms, I really don't see what's great about it." He mutters the last sentence.
For a few minutes, there was an awkward silence between the two of you before he clears his throat. "Well, um- Jin hyung is going to make dinner tonight, so just wait for his call in here till then."
You nod quietly, but Yoongi had already left the room.
A few hours later, Jin serves two large platters of freshly cooked Mandu and Bossam, as well as a sautee pot of Kimchi Jjigae. "Hey, everyone! Dinners ready, come down!"
Within a minute, multiple pairs of footsteps sounded, as the group comes towards the dining room. They all took their seats and began loading their plates and bowls before devouring the mouthwatering feast their hyung had prepared.
Minutes passed, and Jin felt as though something had been forgotten until it suddenly dawned on him. "Hey, where's the girl?"
Everyone shrugs silently, completely focused on their food, causing the eldest to sigh and then turn to face Yoongi. "Where is she?"
The addressed man knew he was being spoken to even without looking. He slurps his bowl and mumbles. "She's in the white room."
"The what-?" The hacker scrunched his brows.
"The white room." He repeated while Jin's eyes bulge in response. "Yoongi, that's a long way from our rooms! Why is she all the way over there?!"
"Hey, all you said was show her a room to stay in. You didn't say which room." He defended himself.
Namjoon merely shook his head and continued to eat. "Quit being a smartass, Yoongi."
The master manipulator smirks condescendingly at his leader. "I'm not wrong, am I though?"
"Watch it." The younger glares at him.
Jin, frustrated with the quarrel, lets out an exasperated sigh, cutting them off. "That's enough. I'll just deliver the food to her."
But, just as the eldest is about to rise from his seat, Namjoon stops him. "It's alright, hyung. Since Yoongi wants to act like the smartass he is, he should deliver the girl the dinner. You've worked hard enough already."
Jin leans back hesitantly as the tension comes back, and the other four men watch them silently. Namjoon's eyes never left Yoongi as did Yoongi's. The staredown lasts for what seems like hours before Oranyan huffs, rolling his eyes, and rises from his seat. "Fine. This is the last time I'm doing something for that girl."
Yoongi grudgingly walks along the lengthy corridor until arriving at the white room's door. He knocks on the door with one hand, holding the silver tray, but is met with silence.
He pinched his brows and twists the doorknob, pushing the door open. He then notices the girl dressed in his dongsaeng's clothes standing in front of the absurdly high window. He draws her attention with a clear throat. 007 turns to face him, then notices the meal tray he's carrying.
You blink. "What is that?"
"Jin hyung made dinner. He called all of us, but you didn't hear."
You remained still. That was what you were trained to do all your life. That's all you know: talk only when spoken to. And do as they say or face the consequences. Though you were allowed to ask a few innocent questions, you were smart enough to know that you needed to be cautious with your remarks.
"Well come over here and eat." He speaks.
"O-okay." You squeak as you crossed the room to Yoongi and stop in front of him.
He places the dinner tray on a little white coffee table and motions for you to take a seat next to it. You take your seat, finally seeing the warm meal in front of you.
With a blank face, he says. "Go, eat."
You plunged right into the meal, having forgotten how hungry you were. You ate with your bare hands, ignoring the spoon and chopsticks on either side of the tray. You had no idea what those were as you never had the luxury of having a delicious meal in such a humane manner.
The master manipulator stands a bit flabbergasted but doesn't show it, as you shove the contents into your mouth with your hands. For a bit, he doesn't do anything, waiting if you'll use the utensils that are plainly in front of you, but obviously, you don't.
He lets out an annoyed sigh and hesitantly crouches next to you, making you pause with a mouthful of food. "You do realize you don't have to use your hands?"
You tilt your head, as you usually do when they say something completely new to you. Yoongi takes a spoon in one hand and metal chopsticks in the other. "This is a spoon—" Then he waves the chopsticks. "And these are chopsticks."
"These are here to help you eat cleaner. I'll show you." He takes a spoonful of rice and dips half of it into the Kimchi Jjigae. He then takes the chopsticks and demonstrates by picking up a piece of pork and placing it on the rice, then bringing it to you. "You then bring it to your mouth and eat it."
You suddenly lean forward, clamping your mouth around the spoon that he is still holding. Your actions catch him off guard, causing his eyes to widen slightly and resulting in him dropping the spoon onto the tray.
He leaps away from you, feeling completely flustered. "Y-ya! What are you doing?!"
"When I brought to you, I meant for you to take it yourself! Not-" He exclaims, leaving no time for you to respond.
He exhales sharply. "I'm gonna grab napkins. You, just try to use the utensils like a normal person."
He pivots around and walks to the connected bathroom. Taking a few minutes to locate the roll of paper towels. He finally finds the paper towel and rips two out before exiting the restroom.
As he steps out, he hears metal clattering. He sets his eyes on the weird girl who is desperately trying to pick up a piece of food with chopsticks, just as he had earlier demonstrated for you.
He remained there silently observing you as you tried, again and again, to pick up the piece of pork that continued to fall pathetically every time you gripped it. And every time it falls, he notices your frustrated look.
The crease between your brows and the slight pout formed by the corners of your lips curving downward. His gaze never leaves you as he stands only a few feet away from you. How innocent, what if... What? You dare to complete that thought Min Yoongi, he muses.
Was it a faint spark he felt when he saw your childlike expression? No. It cannot or should not be. There is no room for such feelings anyway.
She won't get any food in her system at this rate. She's completely helpless... He mentally scoffs, unable to believe this is you, the girl referred to by his hyung as a "useful" asset for their infamous formidable gang. They must be joking, he discreetly clicks his tongue. How can this nameless girl be useful to them when she couldn't even eat properly?
Then he did what he does best: he pushed any soft feelings aside and approached your struggling figure abruptly. "Here— take this. Wipe your hands. I'll just do it for you because you're incompetent at it."
You couldn't help but gaze at him before grabbing the paper towel. You watch him as he takes a nearby stool to sit alongside you before noticing you haven't yet cleaned your hands. "Didn't I tell you to wipe your hands?"
He sighs grumpily. "How could I forget... You seem clueless to everything as Jungkook says." He then grabs your napkin and starts wiping the food crumbs from your hands.
He picked up the utensils and put chunks of food on the spoon before giving it to you. And, understanding his gestures, you leaned forward, latching your mouth around the spoon as you had done previously.
He couldn't help but feel hot on his cheeks as he continued to feed you. Why is he even doing this in the first place? Right. He did it because that scoundrel of a leader ordered him to. And only him, because he decided it was best to be wary around a girl they'd only just met, who miraculously healed their leader.
Once you finished your meal, thanks to the scarred-face man, a sudden knock erupted at the door. Yoongi instantly rose from his position, unwilling to risk being caught for such an intimate act on his case.
"Is everything okay in there-? Did she eat her food? You didn't do anything, right Yoongi?" Jin nags from the other side of the door.
The younger just rolled his eyes, disregarding the fact that his hyung couldn't see him. "No, I didn't do anything. But, yeah, she finished her food."
"You can come in, I'm leaving anyway." He hurriedly collects the meal tray, without looking at the girl, and walks towards the door.
Jin flings open the door, startled at Yoongi's appearance. "What's got you in such a rush-?"
The cold-hearted man simply brushes by him and strides out of the room, leaving the latter to huff. "Ya! If you know any better, you ought to drop that attitude!"
"Aish, what a kid." He mutters as he sees his dongsaeng quietly proceed down the hall.
Jin shifts his attention to the petite figure seated on the large chair and staring at him.
He approached her with a tight smile. "Hello."
"H-Hi." You reply softly.
"How did the food taste?" He asks.
"Good. W-was good." You respond, making the man grin, which makes you smile back.
He faintly chuckles at your reaction but then switches to a playful stern expression. "I hope Yoongi wasn't too patronizing— was he nice to you?"
You hummed politely. "He was..." Then you mimic his dongsaeng feeding you, using cute gestures.
"Oh..?" He lifts his brows, musing. "He did that?"
Jin crosses his arms, and you nod. "How interesting..."
"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed the food. I just came in to make sure you're okay." He clarifies.
Unlike the rest excluding Taehyung, Jin was arguably the one who exhibited more of a softer side for people; while being part of a merciless gang that might be regarded as heartless, he was still someone you could easily befriend. But the biggest warning anybody can provide about him is to never take advantage of his kindness; he's not the most forgiving person, and he'll show it to you.
Just as it is easy to be disgustingly greedy, the expert hacker will simply make you regret doing wrong. He'll make sure your sins come back to haunt you—and ruin you to the point where you're begging on your knees for that far-reaching forgiveness.
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The next morning, at eight o'clock, a sudden pounding was heard as a sleeping cat lay dead still in his bed. "Min Yoongi, get your ass up! We have an emergency meeting now!"
As the banging continues, the second-oldest member groans and blinks his eyes open. "Alright! I'm awake!"
He sat up grudgingly, rubbing his eyes in annoyance and subconsciously plotting to kill the person who had dared to disrupt his precious sleep. But when an emergency meeting is called, he has no choice but to stop everything and hurry to meet the rest of the group.
After freshening up, he finally arrives at their conference room. He is greeted by the other six members, whilst their leader stands in the far front, with his back to them.
Namjoon turns around and faces them as soon as Yoongi takes a seat. "Good. Everyone is here."
"I'm sure you're wondering why I called this meeting so suddenly." He begins.
"And why so damn early too..." Mumbles the master manipulator.
The leader's gaze narrows on him. "Pardon?"
He responds with a sarcastic smile. "I said, why did you call so early?"
"Well, allow me to finish then, hm?" Namjoon grits his teeth.
The latter shrugged and he continued. "I gathered you today, and so early if you're bothered— because I received an anonymous tip, and it was a pretty major one."
Jin arches a brow. "A tip? That's the first- we've never gotten a tip before."
"Not to mention an anonymous one. It sounds suspicious." Hoseok adds.
Jimin leans forward, his hands folded on the table. "What exactly is the tip about?"
"Let me correct myself, I received two separate tips but was told they were linked." Namjoon replies.
"I'll start with the first one. The group that ambushed us is working on a large delivery today; I'm not sure what it is, but they want it done quickly and only today." He explains. "And I'm assuming whatever they're delivering must be very important and perhaps quite valuable."
"And the second tip I was given involves your guys' case." Namjoon points to Jungkook and Jimin.
"What do you mean?" Jungkook furrowed his brows.
"According to our source, that same gang was seen making a deal with a man dressed in a suit... In front of the medical facility you're both investigating." He answers.
"That's weird— why is a gang dealing with an owner of a medical building?" Taehyung inquires.
Namjoon shakes his head. "I'm not sure who that man is with whom they negotiated the deal, but it's certainly questionable."
"I think the greater question is, what is a man like him doing meeting with a gang of criminals for?" Yoongi voices out.
The leader merely shrugs. "I don't have an answer for that. Hoseok, what do you think?"
"Perhaps the package might contain useful equipment for the facility." He thinks with his jaw clenched. "But why would that man ask them? It makes no sense."
"Jimin and Jungkook, how about you? Were you both aware of this?" Namjoon addresses them.
Jimin shook his head. "No, we're just as confused as the rest of you."
"Maybe- Jimin might be right about this." Jungkook speculates.
"What do you mean?" Jin asks.
The youngest gives Jimin a brief glance before Jimin speaks for him. "I told him I had a bad feeling about the whole thing..."
"Is there something we should know about?" Namjoon crossed his arms.
"We only checked yesterday— but the medical supplies and equipment went missing so suddenly." Jimin elaborates.
Jin steps forward. "How much are we talking about?"
"Couple dozens... couple dozens of batches." Jungkook responded.
The eldest's eyes widen. "WHAT?!"
"Could that possibly be the delivery?" Taehyung proposes.
Namjoon unfolds his arms. "Given the timing of everything, that seems plausible. It seems to be perfectly aligned—"
"Almost too perfectly." Yoongi interrupts. "How do you know whether what this anonymous person says is true?"
"I received the evidence this morning in the mail."
"Let's see it."
The leader nods, pulling out a clasp envelope and takes a stack of photographs and a flash drive from it. "There is no return address on the mail."
"Obviously." Oranyan mutters.
Namjoon clears his throat audibly. "The package had images of the exchange in action, and the flash drive has data on all of the missing equipment and supplies that are allegedly being delivered today."
"Yes, these are photographs, but do you realize how easy it is these days to edit photos and print them out as if they are real?" Yoongi reacts cynically.
Jin examines the photos more closely and notices something that none of the others can see, which coincidentally contradicts Yoongi's claim. "But, you can't fabricate these types of photos."
Then everyone turned to look at him. "Look at the type of material these photos are. This is a type of camera film that can only be developed with diluted water."
"Which means, it can't be edited. When a photo is taken, it is taken at the exact moment it is intended to capture— So, to put your mind at ease, these are real, and that exchange did occur."
"How about the supplies and equipment on the flash drive." Jimin questioned.
"A separate note said that the data on the flash drive is encrypted. You can still access it right, Jin?" Namjoon refers to the eldest member.
Jin sneered arrogantly. "Do you really need to ask? Of course, I can."
The expert hacker takes the flash drive and sits down at the long table, bringing out his computer. He proceeds by inserting the drive on the side of the computer, and within the next second, his fingers begin hitting the keys at practically lightning speed, with his eyes never leaving the screen.
Soon after, a smug grin formed on his face. "I'll be honest—that was a tenacious firewall they installed, but don't worry, I bypassed it all."
Jin stood up and walked up to the front to connect his computer to the television. The television turns on and displays his computer screen. "All I have to do is press enter, and all the data will be shown to us."
Namjoon nods at him, and Jin returns his nod before hitting the enter key. And then the data is unleashed, with dozens of files popping in rapid sequence. As the electronic beeps of the files fill their ears continuously, the group remains dumbstruck. They were not expecting so much data containing missing supplies and equipment to be uncovered right in front of their eyes.
"Joon, I thought you said the flash drive only had supplies that were expected to be delivered today?" Jimin stares at the screen, baffled.
"These aren't just lists of missing supplies from yesterday; this is the entire history of it all." Jin comments. "Take a look at these dates; they go back almost nineteen years."
"So you're saying this covert operation has been going on all along right under our noses?" Yoongi implied.
Jin faces him. "It appears so."
"For an operation like this to last this long, someone higher must be pulling the strings." Hoseok says.
"Hoseok is right. Now that we have a fresh light—thanks to our anonymous tip—the agenda has been changed—rather than Jungkook and Jimin investigating the facility, it's going to be all hands on deck for this one." Namjoon places his palms on the table and turns to face Jin. "However, Jin, you will have an additional independent task."
Shadow hacker raises his brow, subconsciously urging his leader to carry on. "You need to get all of the information you can on the girl. Anything that can answer every question about her."
"But in the meantime, we have a delivery to catch." The leader smirks slyly.
≫ play track: yes boss - the revenge instrumental ≪
"So- the anonymous tip didn't happen to provide us the location of their base..." Yoongi jokes sarcastically.
"No, however, they did give us the route they're traveling on to the drop-off." Namjoon replies.
The master manipulator's face twisted in confusion. "The route? Why would they do that—" As it finally sinks in, he paused. "You can't be serious..."
Namjoon grins. "I see you caught on. And I am."
Taehyung shifts his eyes between the two. "Serious about what? What is your plan Namjoon?"
"Glad you asked, Taehyung. Here's the plan—" Namjoon types on the touchscreen table, which displays a grid map. "This is the route they intend to take-"
"It's a one-way road." Jungkook intercepts.
Namjoon nods. "Correct. I was initially confused as to why they would give me the route they were taking, but I now understand what they were attempting to convey."
Hoseok crosses his arms. "And just what is that?"
"We'll seize the delivery by striking them here." The leader expands on the touchscreen, zooming onto a selected spot on the map. "They'll be the most susceptible."
"Are you saying you want to stop them during the transport?" Jimin's mouth drops.
"Exactly. It's effective considering they won't expect it at all." The leader continues.
Jungkook exhales, leaning back in his chair. "First of all, why are they going that particular road?"
"Because no one, not even the cops, will be able to track them down there." Jin answers. "There are no cameras on the route, and computer GPS can't detect them. Even I won't be able to get visual— they're smart."
Namjoon tilts his head. "But there is another option. Radio satellite and thermal imaging."
"That may work, but..." Jin trails off.
Yoongi stares at his hyung. "But what?"
"I'd have to hack into the military mainframe." Jin mutters.
The younger scoffs. "That's crazy."
"But it is doable." Namjoon clarifies, and Jin begrudgingly nods.
"It is, but it will take some time if we don't want to be caught and traced."
"That's fine, and we won't." Their leader reassures.
Hoseok takes another look at the grid map of the marked route. "Alright, now that we have visual covered what's your plan on stopping the delivery there?"
"For starters, three trailer trucks will be on the road, one as backup protection and the first two carrying the cargo. So, we take out the third truck first." Namjoon begins. "We'll wait for them in the short tunnel right before the targeted spot. The only way this is going to work is if we all travel separately— which we will do via motorbikes."
He continues. "Jungkook, on the other hand, will be placed somewhere else. He'll serve as our element of surprise. Jungkook will be waiting on top of the tunnel for them to emerge. We won't be able to eliminate the third truck in the tunnel; Jungkook will have to do it."
"Hyung, I'm not sure how that will work." Jungkook comments.
He raises his finger. "I'll get to that— you'll fly the ultralight helicopter to the top of the tunnel, and Jin will act as your eyes and timer from there. Your objective is to set an explosive at the opposite end of the tunnel where they will exit. Before it explodes, you'll need to jump to the first truck. The idea is that the tunnel will collapse on the third truck, terminating it for us."
"What about the rest of us in the tunnel?" Yoongi questions.
"We'll follow them closely, in a single line, so we're out of their line of sight. Then, we'll split off and circle to the front and sides, surrounding the first two trucks." The fourth oldest member answers.
"And after Jungkook lands on the first truck, we'll have to help him in hijacking it, assuming they'll start a gunfight as they drive. Once he's in the truck, the one behind them will have no choice but to stop." He explains. "As soon as the men get out of the trucks, expect further gunplay. But I'm confident we'll all be fine."
"Any questions?" He glances around at his group for a moment before Hoseok starts chuckling.
"This might be one of the most daring plans you've ever conceived, Joonie."
Namjoon smiles cunningly as he shrugs. "We're the mafia, after all. Isn't it our job to be daring?"
"So are we all in agreement?"
Everyone nods and hums, prompting the leader to do the same. "Good, let's gear up then."
≫ stop track ≪
"Wait a minute—what about the girl?" Taehyung inquires.
Yoongi rolls his eyes. "What about her? As long as she stays put here, she'll be fine."
"I can attest to that; from what I've experienced, she's quite obedient." Jimin confirms.
"And, given that we live in the middle of nowhere, I don't believe there's anything to worry about." Adds Jungkook.
"Sun-Woo will be here, so he can keep an eye on her. So, at least she won't be completely alone." Jin pitches in.
Namjoon clapped his hands. "Are we done with the babysitting debate? We don't have much time."
Everyone then exits the meeting room and begins preparing for their hijacking mission.
"I never got the chance to ask, but where will Jin hyung be?" Jungkook inquires as they all load their gear in the garage.
"I'll be stationed close to the road. Don't be concerned about me; you'll see how I'll save your asses again."
The maknae rolls his eyes at his hyung's words, causing the hacker to shrug. "Sorry, can't help myself, I'm both attractive and extraordinarily smart."
"Can you get any more narcissistic?" Jungkook sighs, dejected.
"You're just upset that you can't outwit me." Jin poked out his tongue.
The younger smirks evilly. "Sure, but I can outmuscle you and immobilize you from the neck down."
"Well, I—" Jin attempts to respond but is cut off.
"All right, enough of this. We're wasting time." Irritation clearly heard in Namjoon's tone before he turns around.
With their leader's back to him, it was the maknae's turn to stick his tongue out at the oldest. "Jungkook stop being a child."
Jungkook's expression quickly changes, slightly startled by Namjoon's awareness of his immature behavior without looking. Whereas Jin tries to hold back his laughter as his dongsaeng gets scolded. The youngest narrows his eyes before rolling them and mumbling under his breath.
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An hour and three minutes. That's how long it took the five men to travel up the one-way road and hide inside the tunnels, awaiting the three semi-trucks transporting the stolen medical equipment or whatever- certainly for selfish motives, given they didn't do it legally.
As for the other two, Jungkook flew to the opposite end of the tunnel with the ultralight helicopter as planned, while Jin was stationed at a nearby local underground club.
"Jin how's the progress?" Namjoon spoke using their long-range micro earpiece, which allowed them to communicate over extended distances.
As he frantically types along his sixteen-inch, heavily encrypted computer keyboard, the hacker lets out a frustrated sigh. "This is a stateful inspection firewall, which means tons of packets, and tons of packets means many malicious codes, and those malicious codes translate to SSL encryption, which makes it more complicated than most we've encountered. One wrong code entry, anyone and everyone who has immediate access to the satellite imaging systems will be alerted exactly thirty seconds af—"
"Jin, you're rambling. Just say you need more time." Yoongi huffed. "I was utterly exhausted from listening to all of that information. Everything you said went in one ear and out the other."
"It's called a learning moment Yoongi, something you need more of. And if you're going to address me like that, you ought to put honorifics after my name." Jin responds harshly.
Their leader mentally shakes his head. "If you're finished bickering, Jin hyung, what's the status? Who knows how close they are."
"These bastards have three fucking walls. THREE! Although I cracked two of them, so one more down, but it may take a few minutes longer." He answered.
"Damn you, Jin hyung." Taehyung mutters quietly, which the eldest still managed to hear.
"Ya-! Didn't I tell you all that this is a military-grade security wall! And if you don't want to be caught, I said it would take time!" He was profoundly fed up with their pestering. The things I do for you impatient brats, he grumbles in his head.
Minutes later, the expert hacker miraculously breached the third firewall, just in time to locate their target using military satellite imaging. "GUYS! I got in, I have visual on the three trucks."
"Excellent-" comments Namjoon.
"We knew we could count on you, Jin hyung. Never doubt a second." Jungkook commended him.
"Yeah, yeah. It was whatever- anyway, they're close by. They should arrive in two minutes." Jin notifies them.
"Okay, engines hot everyone!" Namjoon orders and the others nod sagely with their black helmets on. "Did you set the detonator, Jungkook?"
The addressed man hums. "Yes. It's ready under Jin hyung's command."
"They're entering in... three... two... go after those sons of bitches." Shadow Hacker smirks smugly as he informs his team members.
The three semi-truck-looking vehicles entered the tunnel precisely on Jin's countdown, and the five men instantly formed a straight line, trailing just behind the third truck, completely hidden from the driver's side view mirrors.
"We need a headcount in each truck."
"On it." As usual, his lightning-fast fingers went to work, controlling access to the thermal imaging to peer through the trucks' metal.
"All right, the truck Jungkook is going to hijack has a dozen people inside, including the driver and one on the passenger side."
"And seven in the second truck—it's the third truck that's the issue."
"Why?"
"With sixteen people in that metal rectangle, you're obviously going to be outnumbered." Jin replies. "So smart move proposing to immediately eliminate the third truck."
"Thank our anonymous tip." Namjoon corrects.
Jin then turns his camera angle to the trucks traveling through the tunnels. "Jungkook, prepare to jump at my signal."
Tightening the utility harness that was around his hips and right upper thigh, Jungkook stands on the edge of the concrete tunnel and listens for his hyung's signal.
He cracks his knuckles and joints briefly before focusing his attention on the road below him, where he hears the faint sound of approaching vehicles. The first truck then appears. "Jump now!"
He leaps from the concrete and lands with a grunt on the top of the metal attached to the truck, rolling up on one knee. He glances behind him, over his shoulder, expecting the bomb he set to explode over the third vehicle under Jin's command.
The third vehicle was ready to depart the tunnel when the device failed to detonate. As a result, Jungkook's face was filled with confusion. Even the rest of the gang was bewildered. The man with the circle lens spectacles, on the other hand, begins to panic.
"Why didn't it go off, Jin?" Jungkook questioned.
Jin presses a button on a separate controller repeatedly; the button that was designed to remotely trigger the explosion, but it never did. Frustrated, he returns to his computer, pulling up satellite imagery to inspect the device Jungkook planted.
That was the moment he realized...
"YA! Jungkook, you took the wrong one!" Jin screeched through his headset.
"What?! But I wasn't the one who loaded it into the helicopter. When I walked in, it was already there." He defends himself. "I assumed you put it there."
"No, I did not! Whoever it was grabbed the wrong one!" Jin states.
"Fuck-" Someone murmured, but everyone heard, as the five men took their assigned positions. "Who said that? Was that you Namjoon?"
The leader mentally facepalms himself. "Shit- yeah. I was the one who left it in the helicopter."
Yoongi turns his head to glare at Namjoon for a fraction of a second. "What do we do now?!"
"I mean, didn't Jin say there's at least sixteen in that damn truck? We're going to be outnumbered and outgunned; please tell me you've got a backup plan!"
"I'm thinking alright! Try to take out their tires, first!" Namjoon shouts back.
Suddenly, the sides of the truck's metal piece begin to move, and a machine emerges, displaying a mini machine gun. Taehyung and Jimin, the two men designated on the sides, widened their eyes at this.
"OH SHIT, THAT'S NOT HAPPENING-"
"THEY GOT FUCKING MACHINE GUNS!"
"ACTIVATE SHIELDS NOW!" Namjoon commands audibly.
Fortunately, the two members activated their shields barely a millisecond before shots were fired at them. "If you have a backup plan, I suggest you say something now!" yells Taehyung.
"Since when did these bastards get their hands on machine guns!" Hoseok exclaimed.
"Worry about that later! We've got bullets fired at us right now!" Jimin screams.
"Pull out, for now, take cover in the rear." Namjoon instructs, and they quickly comply, applying their brakes and retreating behind the third truck.
"Jin, any ideas?!" Yoongi calls to him.
"I'm on it right now." Looks like he's about to save their asses once again.
He switches the screen on his computer and brings up a coding system that is concurrently linked to the ultralight helicopter Jungkook was once in. "I've taken control of the helicopter and am heading it toward you."
"You can remotely control the helicopter?!" Jungkook hung his mouth apart slightly. "That means I didn't need to fly up there myself!"
"That's not entirely true, we needed someone to plant the bomb." Namjoon replied.
Jungkook crossed his arms. "Yeah, one that was the wrong one."
"SORRY, OKAY-"
"Will you be able to take out the third truck?" The fourth oldest of the gang asks the eldest.
Jin hums. "Yes, I got an idea."
"Good, Taehyung and Jimin hang in there."
"It's not like we can go anywhere." Jimin rolled his eyes.
As if things couldn't get any worse, the rear hatch of the truck unexpectedly opens, showing all fourteen men inside, pointing weapons at the two. "JIN, GET YOUR ASS HERE FAST, THEY'RE AIMING AT US!"
"That's it, I'm heading over." The maknae announces, fed up.
"No, Jungkook, stick to the plan!" But he never listened, thinking, the plan that just backfired? Sure.
≫ play track: i like the way you die - black honey (on loop) ≪
He silently tched to himself as he sprinted over to jump across to the second vehicle, then did the same to land on the last truck, filled with the fourteen armed men.
As he approaches the open door, he takes an electrocution grenade, snaps the metal key off, and quickly throws it inside. Within a short moment, the grenade detonates, electrocuting three guys within the five-foot radius and paralyzing them for the next few hours.
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Jungkook then swings into the truck, confronting the remaining ten men head-on. "Let's dance shall we." He grins cunningly at the men who are startled by his abrupt entrance.
The men soon shook off their surprise and began firing at him. However, Jungkook's superhuman-like reflexes allow him to activate his energy shield, emitted from his wrist device, and deflect the bullets, just like the others. When he was close to one, he deactivated the shield and threw a punch at the first man, followed by a brutal knee strike to the gut.
Taking advantage of the vulnerable state, he tightly grips the poor man's wrist that held the gun and pins it around his back. With the man's gun, he starts shooting at another, killing them.
Now with five people left standing, he slides along the ground, avoiding the aimed weapons above him, without thinking. He instantly leaps up, catching them off guard as he gets ahold of the next target's arm and throws him over his shoulder. The man's shoulder is dislocated when he hits the ground, causing him to cry out in pain.
He reactivates his shield instinctively, just as the last four attempt to shoot at him again. Never pausing and depriving Jungkook of the chance to draw his own weapon. And unfortunately, he slowly finds himself backing up into the corner, pinned down. "Shit, Jin hyung, where are you?! I'm pinned down!"
With no reply, the sounds of a helicopter flying overhead filled their ears, and the fire ceased, and the men started pointing at the helicopter. "I'll handle it from here; get out of there right now."
Jungkook dashes towards the open hatch where the men were standing, withdrawing two of his guns from his hips and hitting their legs, immobilizing them. He then hastily climbs over to the top and races to the next moving truck.
Jin controls the helicopter by typing on the keyboard of his computer, dropping a distinct piece of machinery below it.
"Is that a fucking missile attached to the helicopter?!!" Jimin screams, his eyes widening at the sight.
"A FUCKING WHAT-?!" Yoongi screams in disbelief, momentarily gazing behind him.
"I suggest you, Jimin and Tae increase your distance from the truck." Jin advises.
"You don't need to tell me twice." Taehyung responded as the two pulled away from the truck.
Before hitting the enter key to launch the missile, the expert hacker makes a snide remark. "Enjoy the light show boys."
The missile is deployed, and the third truck explodes, demolishing it completely. The impact of the explosion drives Jungkook backward, but the youngest swiftly regains his balance on top of the truck.
"Bullseye!" Jin laughs cheerfully.
"Holy fuck, hyung, a goddamn missile? You're a fucking lunatic, man." Hoseok says.
"You should be thanking me; didn't I say I'd save your asses again?" He huffed.
"Great, the third truck is out. Proceed with the rest of the plan, everyone—hopefully the other two don't have machine guns on the side as well." Namjoon instructs once more. "Hyung, stay on standby in case we need another trick of yours."
"Copy."
As gunshots roared in the air, presumably from the between the two gangs, Jungkook dashed forward to the semi-truck's cab, where the driver and passenger sat. He swings over the passenger seat, breaking through the window and all at once kicking the man in the passenger seat in the head. As he swoops in effortlessly, he pulls out his combat knife and stabs the man in the neck, giving neither of them time to react and killing him quickly.
The driver panics and friskily reaches for his gun to shoot him. However, with another lethal brute power of Jungkook's kick, the man flies out of the moving truck before he could harm Jungkook.
The master combatant then hops into the driver's seat. "I've gained control of the first truck."
"Good. You know what to do, the others and I will be ready right after." Namjoon says.
Jungkook nods and slams on the brakes, turning the steering wheel sharply to block off the truck behind him.
The tires screeched as the truck behind Jungkook came to a halt, almost colliding with him. The maknae exits the cab and walks menacingly towards the truck, his hands wrapped around his two guns strapped to his hips.
The cab doors open as the two men attempt to eliminate Jungkook. But as soon as their heads poked out, they both dropped dead.
The rest of the members join Jungkook, facing the back of the truck with their weapons drawn.
"Jin cover the other truck, will you be able to target all of them?" Namjoon inquired.
"I might or might not have installed a mini MIRV." He smirked evilly as he hovered the helicopter over the truck Jungkook had earlier hijacked. (Multiple Independently-targetable Reentry Vehicles)
"All right, then, let's bring these treasures home." Namjoon comments. "And let's take one."
≫ track stop ≪
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The sun had set and the Bangtan Boys had returned home, they unloaded the dozens of batches of stolen equipment and supplies into their storage house on their property.
The seven members step into the quiet house, sweaty, slightly bloodied, and bruised from the anticipated gunfight with the other people in the trucks.
They surveyed the area as they entered the living room. "At least everything seems in place and clean. Looks like we had nothing to worry about."
"Sun-Woo!" Hoseok calls out.
Moments later, shuffling can be softly heard, and soon a figure emerged from the kitchen door. "Good evening, sirs, how did the mission go?"
"Everything went as planned." Namjoon responded, but the others snorted, making the leader groan. "Hey, at least we accomplished what we needed to do."
Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Yeah, barely, because somebody believed he was confident enough to know which exact explosive to take."
He puts his hands up defensively. "Excuse me- everything looked the same to me!"
Sun-woo shifts his gaze awkwardly between the '93 and '94 members. He hadn't expected them to start bickering.
"Sun-woo, where's the girl?" Jin asked.
Their butler turns to the oldest. "Oh, she's been inside the room since you all left."
"It appears she refuses to leave her spot, claiming you told her to 'stay here.'"
"So she didn't come out at all?" Hoseok arched his brow.
Their butler nods, leaving the gang rather surprised except for Jimin and Jungkook. Which Sun-Woo notices. "You both don't seem as surprised as the rest."
Both of them shrugged their shoulders. "She'd been acting like that since we met her, so we kind of expected it."
He lets out an 'ah' of understanding. "Do you want to see her? Shall I fetch her?"
"No, I'll get her—" Hoseok returns eye contact with the six other pairs of eyes now on him. "I'd like to make further observations on her."
"All right, go ahead." Namjoon gives a nod.
Hoseok then walked up their extravagant modern stairs and down the long corridor to the familiar white room that had not been used in a long time. He knocks on the door, respecting your privacy given that you're a lady, but it doesn't mean he would immediately be overly buddy-buddy with the girl they barely met less than twenty-four hours earlier.
He waits for a response but does not receive one, so he proceeds to push the door open. His gaze was drawn to your body fast asleep soundly across the bed.
Was she waiting for us this entire time, he wondered.
He approaches you quietly, taking in your sleeping form. That's when he noticed the dark circles under your eyes, which were partially hidden by your fluttery thick lashes. Your plump and slightly chapped lips, and your sunken cheeks, that showed signs of malnourishment.
Starting to think about it, he feels a little guilty knowing he needs to wake up the peaceful sleeping female who clearly needed the rest.
But he wants to know more about you, whether you're a threat to his family or innocent all along, but can you honestly call oneself innocent in this forsaken world? And to determine this stranger's true motives, he must present himself as 'friendly' and 'caring' towards you.
Nonetheless, he reached for you and gently shook you awake. "H-hey, wake up."
It takes a few moments, but you jolt up, terror etched across your face, thinking you're back in your ten-by-ten box from before.
"Woah woah woah- ease up, it's just me." He takes a step back, giving you space while calming you down.
As soon as you hear those words, your eyes focused on the man in front of you. 'It's just me,' the words echoed in your head, and security filled your body.
"Hi there, good morning sunshine." Says the masculine melodic voice.
"H-hi." You finally recognize him as one of the members you met the night previously. Ho-seon? Hosan? Hobi?
"How long have you slept?"
"I-I don't know."
He frowns slightly. "Hopefully you can sleep later on, it is pretty late. It's sunset already."
You tilt your head. "Sunset?"
"Yeah, sunset. Have you ever heard or seen a sunset?"
You shake your head, causing the older man to draw his lips together and then smile. "Well, let's meet the rest of the guys outside and I'll show you your first sunset."
"Okay." You said.
The pair of you finally join the rest of the group in the living room along with Sun-woo.
"Wow, she really did not leave the room." Taehyung stares in amazement.
"I presume she understands obedience very well." Sun-woo's eyes linger on you.
"I suppose so..."
Taehyung then approaches you, his boxy smile on his face. "Hey, cutie. Good job following orders."
You look at him with doe eyes, perplexed by his antics. He chuckles at this and raises his hand to pat you on the head, but as soon as you see his hand lift, your eyes flood with panic, and you pressed your eyelids shut, evidently waiting for impact.
Your reaction causes him to freeze and pull back almost immediately. "O-oh! I-I'm sorry!"
Hoseok watched their interaction. "I suppose she is sensitive to such actions... Perhaps, she suffered abuse before."
"Just reassure her that you won't hurt her, and she'll let you touch her." Jimin states.
Taehyung nods and returns his attention to you. "Hey, I'm not going to hurt you. I-I was just commending you."
You carefully open your eyes, watching with caution as Taehyung repeats his earlier moves, but more slowly. He then gently pats your head while smiling, revealing his adorable bread cheeks.
Jin clears his throat. "So... 007, you really just stayed in your room as we told you?"
You turn to face him, nodding in response. "Y-yes."
Jin was going to ask you another question about if you had eaten when you spoke up. "Someone hurt."
Everyone looks at you in confusion, then exchanges glance with each other. "Hurt? Well, I mean we kind of got into a fight but it's merely scratches, we're fine."
"No, someone hurt bad."
"Well, as you can see, we're perfectly standing up, so I think we're fine." Yoongi spits.
Jimin furrows his brows. "Yo, Yoongi, relax. She's just trying to help, maybe she's right."
"No one said anything on the way home, which usually means we all survived and are fine." Yoongi fired back.
You, on the other hand, are focused on the energy that alerts you of an injury emanating from a specific person. You follow your superhuman senses, and your feet move toward the man who shielded you the first time you met.
Your eyes trail up to his face. "You hurt, bad."
"Jungkook?" All eyes are now on him, making the maknae nervous and anxiously laughing. "No, no- I'm f-fine."
Jin raised a brow. "Are you really?"
He weakly nods. "Y-yeah, I really a—"
Suddenly, the dongsaeng dropped forward, his head and upper torso collapsing against you, causing everyone to exclaim. "Jungkook!"
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drconstellation · 6 months
Text
When Crowley met Jesus, and the other demon at Golgotha
You know the scene. 33AD. Aziraphale is watching the crucifixion take place and certain fem-presenting demon sidles up to him.
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Aziraphale greets them, and finds out they have changed their name.
"What is it now?" he asks them. " Mephistopheles? Asmodeus?"
I know most you have learnt by now that Asmodeus is the demon of lust, and this is obviously Aziraphale's idea of a flirty little joke (perhaps the first we see? because he's the one who's really as "mad as bag of frogs" after all and that's why Crowley's made an appearance, because he was probably just in the area, you know...), but I haven't seen or come across much meta about the first suggested name, which is a GO "lead balloon" moment.
Mephistopheles, Aziraphale? That's the name you thought of here? Of all places? jfc...you bad, bad angel! lmoa! This is a serious, sombre situation you are witnessing!
Mephistopheles is the name of the fictional demon sent to do a deal with the character Faust in a story that dates back to Germany in the early 1500s. Faust was a like a scientist in his day, well educated in things like alchemy and astrology and other mystical arts, maybe even having wizard powers (why not?) But he was hungry for more power so he did a deal with the devil for 24 years of assistance to achieve and gain anything he desired, and at the end of that time he would be claimed by Hell. Needless to say, despite starting off well it didn't have a happy ending. (I wont go into details as there are lots of variants, and its not that short, and they aren't all that relevant to the point of the post.)
It has been a hugely influential story ever since, appearing in many forms over the years; in opera, theater, movies, novels, adaptations such as Oscar Wilde's The Portrait of Dorian Grey, and Queen's famous song Bohemian Rhapsody. Terry Pratchett also did a parody of it in his 1990 book Eric, and readers have often noted the similarity to the Hell depicted there to the Hell in GO.
Its the origin of the idiom "to do a deal with the devil" and a Faustian bargain. The mortals that enter into the deal with a powerful supernatural entity are usually set up to fail, and we go along with it because we are so used to the trope, its one we've come to expect the bargainer to fail in some spectacular fashion. It's one that keeps being repeated again and again because it so interesting to explore - often the protagonist is looking for some form of happiness, sometimes revenge, and hopes the deal will deliver, but find out the hard way that they should be careful what they wish for because the delivery is a two-edged sword. They may find out that they don't actually want what they thought they wanted, or they get what they want in an very unexpected way.
Back to Golgotha, and our demon and angel. We learn the demon has merely modified their name to Crowley. And yes, they met Jesus.
C: "Seemed a very bright young man. I showed him all the kingdoms of the world."
A: "Why?"
C: "He's a carpenter from Galilee, his travel opportunities are limited."
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This is a reference to one of the the tests of faith Jesus was put through before his crucifixion, from the Book of Matthew.
I like this modern version I found:
For the third test, the Devil took him to the peak of a huge mountain. He gestured expansively, pointing out all the earth’s kingdoms, how glorious they all were. Then he said, “They’re yours—lock, stock, and barrel. Just go down on your knees and worship me, and they’re yours.” Jesus’ refusal was curt: “Beat it, Satan!” He backed his rebuke with a third quotation from Deuteronomy: “Worship the Lord your God, and only him. Serve him with absolute single-heartedness.” The Test was over. The Devil left. And in his place, angels! Angels came and took care of Jesus’ needs. Matthew 4:8-11 The Message
Or, you could say: Crowley showed Jesus all the kingdoms of the world, and offered the bargain that he could rule them all if he would renounce God and worship Satan instead, but Jesus just turned to the demonic messenger and simply told him to "fuck off!"
And there we have it, folks. Mephistopheles, and Asmodeus. Touche, Aziraphale, you sly little shit stirrer.
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