#the sheer amount of time they put into their craft

[jinwoosungs]

{ 156 }

house of gold.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ i will make you queen of everything you see… }

the moment you woke up and received a text from your boyfriend, telling you to have a nice day off while reminding you of your dinner reservation tonight, you knew that you were going to have the best day ever.

with jinwoo’s most trusted shadow soldiers keeping you company, you begin to tidy up the house and do some chores.

first, you began your day by washing all of the dirty dishes that had piled up throughout the week. with your music blasting from your phone’s speaker, you sang along to your favorite song before drying each dish and putting them back within your pantry.

next, you swept the floors and wiped down all the tables and countertops, feeling accomplished when each stain and layer of dust had been removed, leaving behind a shiny sheen against each polished surface.

you continue your day while finishing up other chores, saving laundry for last since you figured it was the one thing that you could do to pass the time quickly. your eyes trail up to the clock to see that it was only 5pm, with your reservation jinwoo made still being a couple of hours away.

letting out a sigh, you go into your shared room and begin collecting all the dirty clothes scattered throughout the room with your basket. it wasn’t too bad, just a few of jinwoo’s shirts and your old pajama set. as you trail your eyes over to the desk, you saw his large trench coat hanging across the chair.

brushing back your hair, you set the basket filled with dirty clothes on the ground before picking up jinwoo’s coat. as you folded the layers of fabric, you became aware of something hidden within the pockets. with a tilt of your head, you unravel the fabric and search through the pockets for a few seconds-

only for your eyes to go wide upon feeling the sensation of velvet against your fingertips.

your whole body was trembling when you manage to pull a tiny, velvet box from the confines of his coat. as you place the precious box against the palm of your hand, you could not stop trembling as it takes you a few tries to pry open the box.

yet the moment you open it, you let out an audible gasp-

for settled within the velvet box was a gorgeously crafted diamond ring-

this was no doubt an engagement ring.

you lost all your senses then, as if hypnotized by the diamonds and the way it collected rainbows each time the light hit it. while being very much in awe of the ring, you lost track of time, completely unaware of someone coming home, taking quick strides to your room before appearing-

“sarang-“

your eyes were still wide when they met with jinwoo’s panicked gaze. and if you were able to function, then you would have teased jinwoo relentlessly over how messy his hair was (probably because of the sheer amount of times he had run his fingers through them.)

so when he sees you already holding the engagement ring in your hand, jinwoo immediately crumbles on the spot. like his knees had suddenly gave way to his own weight, your beloved boyfriend was seen on his knees, letting out what sounded like a mix between a sob and laughter.

“hahhh, i’m such an idiot! of course i left the ring in my other coat!”

your heart was pounding, still unable to process everything that was going on. you and jinwoo simply stayed in your respective positions, with your beloved still having his head bowed down to you.

after a few more beats, you were the first to snap out of your reverie. with the velvet box still open, you gingerly hold it to your chest before crawling closer to him. “jinwoo…?” you place a hand on top of his, making your boyfriend meet your gaze, his face completely and utterly flushed red in response.

“yes… honey?”

swallowing thickly, you place the box with the ring settled from within atop your hand, showing it to jinwoo, “is this what i think it is?”

your voice was barely above a whisper, since you felt as though you were living in a dream, not quite believing that this was even real. it takes several seconds for jinwoo to process your question before giving you a nod.

“yes, it’s exactly what you think it is.”

you hear jinwoo let out one more frustrated sigh before adjusting himself, now settled on one knee for you as he carefully takes the box from the palm of your hand.

“funnily enough, i had this all planned out. the reservation to a high class restaurant was made months in advance, right after i purchased this ring in hopes of making you mine, forever.”

as the tears of joy began streaming down your face, you allow jinwoo to take a hold of your left hand, feeling his lips press a kiss against the back of it before taking out the beautiful ring.

your breath hitches when jinwoo places the ring on your left ring finger, grey eyes turning so much softer when he sees that it was the perfect fit. with his eyes closed, he allows his lips to linger against your ring finger before speaking passionately once more.

“you are the woman that has always had my heart- who had always been by my side, even when i was at my weakest. you have supported me endlessly through your kindness alone… and i finally figured it was about time i returned the favor.”

jinwoo opens his eyes while taking a hold of your hand, bringing you into his lap while chuckling at your crying face. he says your name sweetly before kissing away your tears. “i love you, and nothing would make me happier than to claim you as my wife.”

you were actively sobbing now, clinging to him while admitting, “oh jinwoo… n-nothing would make me happier than to have you as my husband…!”

a teasing grin spreads across his handsome features. “shall i take this as you accepting my proposal?”

giggling through your tears, you gently lunge at him, wrapping both arms around his neck before pressing your lips against his in a searing kiss. despite how you and jinwoo were both locked in a kiss, neither one of you could deepen it since you were both smiling so much.

feeling too filled with happiness, you end up pulling away from the kiss first, letting out content purrs of his name as you rested your head against his broad chest. with your left hand extended outwards, you and your now fiancé kept admiring the glittering ring, all while whispering your promises of forever together.

a.n. - i finished re-reading my recently purchased volumes of solo leveling and just had to write a short and sweet fic for him! 😭 i love jinwoo soooo much, please, why isn’t he real??

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

i am thinking how much poorer, how much less colorful the world would be if art was only made by "professionals." if all the music, all the stories, all the sketches & paintings & craftwork of the world was created only by the small category of people able to make a decent living from their art. imagine if the only people allowed to create were the experts & the renowned & those aspiring to the top. what a grey world that would be. how much joy would be bleached away! i love you people who create for the sake of creating, i love you artists who do art for tiny audiences, i love you people who make things even just for one person, even just for themselves, even if no one's watching, thank you thank you thank you for decorating the world in which we all exist

#not a shitpost #related: the most powerful crafters alive are crocheters who spend 7+ years making an intricate table cloth no one is allowed to eat on #all that arcane magic into making a display object primarily for their own enjoyment #and that of the blessed few lucky enough to be invited into their home to behold what is by rights a sacred object #if you spend a certain number of hours crafting something u have the right to have it put in a shrine or museum of your choosing i think #you have imbued it with your Life Essence by sheer force of concentration and obsession it is Holy now #anyways. old ladies who knit/crochet/embroider etc are a thousands times more powerful and intimidating #than old white dudes who are obsessed with war memorabilia or whatever #i have nothing but respect awe and appropriate amounts of fear towards crafters. my liege

[noelleeee]

when you see art that makes your dopamine receptors go

THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL. IT IS TIME TO DRAW, HUMAN

that's impressive cause I have adhd and my dopamine definitely doesn't work right

#good artists will always be the people i respect the most #the sheer amount of time they put into their craft #and then having people say its talent instead of effort #my blood is boiling just thinking about it

[fatalism-and-villainy]

Rewatching season 2 had me really struck by the sheer amount of time Will spends performing for other people, and how few fully authentic interactions he has. In fact, I’d say one of the biggest through lines between the first and second halves of the season is Will learning how to wear masks, and then actively deploying that for the purpose of catching Hannibal.

(And how fitting is it that the promo for season 2 had Will wearing the iconic hockey mask? Not just a franchise in-joke, but a reflection of the fact that he “becomes” Hannibal in this season, begins to symbolically merge with him, to the point in which his own goals become clouded to him.)

It's a natural extension of season 1's establishment of his empathic abilities, where he begins to more actively use his ability to read other people and discern their motivations as a tool, or weapon. Simply telling the truth about his innocence doesn’t serve him - so he adapts a façade very quickly, in his faked tears for Hannibal and Alana. All of his interactions with others while in prison - Chilton, Lounds, Matthew Brown, etc. - are very deliberately engineered, and lean into what Will knows (or thinks) each person wants to hear - all setting the stage for him doing the same thing to Hannibal. Every word, everything about his intonation, is so precise - something that specifically struck me in this stretch of episodes was when he talks to Gideon and very carefully leans forward as he’s trying to drive his point home:

(And the body language, interestingly enough, is not just persuasive, but also mirrors the way Gideon sometimes leans/dangles his arms out of the cage when talking to others - and it reminds me of Will also mirroring Hannibal’s body language during the “not now that I finally find you interesting” scene, when he bites his lip in the way Hannibal so often does.)

It really highlights how so much of how he interacts with others during this entire stretch of the plot is a very carefully crafted performance, with so many of Will’s actual feelings and motivations subsumed into his manipulations. I remember watching the DVD commentary on Su-zakana, and they talk about how Will’s visible surliness with Hannibal was meant to stem from the fact that he didn’t want to be too friendly with Hannibal right away, because it would look suspicious. And I think that gets at something that’s present with how both Will and Hannibal manipulate others - they’re not necessarily lying about their feelings, just consciously using genuine feelings or motivations as a method of influencing others. With Hannibal, he frequently does feel genuine affection for others, and his care for them stems from that, but it’s also often used to put them at ease, serve his own ends. Will, for his part, is genuinely angry with Hannibal, but actively uses those feelings to fashion an aura of standoffishness. And of course, Hannibal has a genuine pull for him, and he deliberately leans into and cultivates that enjoyment for the sake of entrapping Hannibal. …Which of course leads to a situation where he has to put on a show for Jack as well, in which he downplays how deep into it he’s getting.

So it’s entirely fitting that the opening of Mizumono features the two halves of Will’s face - the front he’s presenting to Hannibal, and the front he’s presenting to Jack - merging, mask-like, in the middle of the screen.

They’re both the real him, and they’re both masks - and he gets so subsumed into his performances for others, the modulation and accentuation and sublimation of his feelings that they require, that he gets lost to himself (and is also terribly lonely and isolated). No wonder he’s confused and unmoored in early season 3.

#hannibal #hannibal meta #will graham #my meta #hannibal talk #both seasons 2 and 3 have a break in the middle but also some kind of through line - this is that #hmm something about how like... season 1 is about hannibal trying to convince him he's gotten lost in a killer's mind #but actually he's being manipulated by someone else #and then here he has more agency and he's the one working to deceive hannibal - but he gets lost nonetheless #in others' designs (hannibal's and jack's) and his own conflicting motivations

[comradekatara]

if someone in the main cast besides aang were to be born the avatar, who would you want it to be? i think toph with access to all elements would be an unstoppable menace, but i’m curious to hear your thoughts

okay so obviously AUs that entertain an avatar during atla besides aang himself clearly have no interest in upholding the fundamental themes of the show, since aang is the only possible avatar/central figure of this show. it is explicitly structured in such a way that aang’s protagonism is no sheer coincidence or accident (ie, it’s good writing). so when entertaining who would make for a compelling avatar in an AU, we also must entertain how such a figure would necessarily shift the themes of the narrative, and whether such a transformation would be interesting.

1) katara wouldn’t be interesting, because her narrative role is too proximate to aang’s to change the themes of the show in any significant way, and even though seeing katara as the avatar would undoubtedly be cool as fuck, we already have korra, who is basically like if katara was the avatar (personality and skill-wise at least) and she is, indeed, cool as fuck. so not katara.

2) zuko is also proximate to aang, and his role as the avatar would be relatively similar to his role in the show already—unlearning the dogmas of his nation to align himself with justice and balance through learning the techniques of multiple elements. it is literally not different in any way.

3) toph would be extremely powerful of course, but she is already extremely powerful, so nothing much would change. her parents would attempt to restrict her, she would escape, travel the world, hone her craft, and defeat ozai. not very interesting.

4) suki would similarly not be interesting. she is an extremely diligent and talented warrior, so she would simply train and defeat ozai with no real obstacles in her way.

5) iroh as avatar also wouldn’t change much imo. azulon would see it as a blessing and wield him as a weapon in much the same way he does in the show. iroh’s failure and betrayal would maybe put a slightly bitter target on his back, but his emotional journey would be much the same.

that leaves 6) azula, 7) sokka, 8) mai and ty lee (yue and jet would also make for pretty interesting avatars, but you did say “main cast,” and we don’t have all day besides). they would make for interest avatar AUs specifically because this role reversal necessitates a reversal of the show’s core themes.

6) avatar azula. she finds out as a child (perhaps ursa is there with her, perhaps she dies with azula’s secret), and is urged (by her desperate, terrified mother) to secrecy. no one, especially not her father, can know of her burden. she hones her firebending in broad daylight, and trains her other elements under the cover of darkness. her waterbending is more powerful under a full moon. her earthbending is so precise she can use it to pick a single flower from the garden without disturbing the feng shui. but despite ostensibly being her secondary element, her airbending still needs work (here is where she and korra happen to converge). then, one day, her precarious existence experiences a seismic shift—her older brother has been banished, and his task is singular and seemingly impossible: capture the avatar and return them to the palace in chains.

for all of zuko’s flaws, he is relentlessly stubborn, and azula knows that he will not rest until his task is completed. of course if she remains in the palace, zuko will never be able to find her or return home, but she cannot take that chance because she knows that iroh can sense what—who—she is. so she runs away. elegantly, of course. she puts it in ozai’s head that he needs to send her away for a special mission only she can complete, that will take an indefinite amount of time to accomplish. and she leaves the palace under ozai’s authority, disguises her identity, seeks out as many masters as she can find to train her, and plans her coup. she is able to recognize how palpable her fear of ozai truly is, because she has been hiding from him her whole life. and she knows that the only way to stop hiding is to defeat him. as you can see, this version proves a very different story, with different themes, different characters, and a vastly different ending. and so it compels me.

7) avatar sokka. sokka finds out he is a bender after katara finds out that she can waterbend, and after she is nearly killed for it, their mother in her place, and so he keeps quiet. especially because he first finds out he is a bender by lighting a fire in his palm. once all the men leave for war, sokka goes to the farthest outskirts of their land, under the guise of hunting, and trains with his firebending every day (of course he does also hunt. his village needs food after all). one day, while attempting a new firebending move, he launches himself ten feet in the air. and that’s how he discovers that he is also an airbender. as if being a firebender wasn’t enough of a hideous curse, he’s also the avatar. what a cruel joke life is.

one day, a fire nation ship docks in their village, and a scarred young soldier demands to know the whereabouts of the avatar. sokka clumsily fights him with his spear, his club, his boomerang. but when zuko attempts to burn him to a crisp, nothing happens. the flames merely dissipate inches away from his skin. then, in a moment of sheer desperation, sokka airbends him and his retinue back, all the way into the freezing waters of the south pole. of course, freezing waters are not enough to kill a firebender, but he’s also somewhat concussed by sokka’s boomerang, so iroh insists that zuko recover in his chambers until morning. zuko insists that he just found the avatar and has no time for recovery, but iroh claims that without his health he will never capture the avatar, and promptly locks him in his room.

sokka says a hasty goodbye to katara and kanna and makes his escape on a boat with enough supplies to last him until kyoshi island. of course katara somehow manages to stow aboard, which doesn’t surprise sokka in the slightest. after her initial shock wears down, she’s just like “so were you ever going to tell me you were the avatar???” and sokka’s like “uhhhhhh eventually…” they make it to kyoshi island, seconds away from being fed to the unagi until sokka reveals his true identity. zuko tracks them down to kyoshi island and sokka and katara are given a stronger boat and more provisions with which to escape.

since katara wants to go to the north pole, and katara always gets her way, that’s where they head, except sokka insists that he should at least find an earthbender while they traverse the massive continent before reaching the north pole. katara’s like “noo it has to be in order of the cycle!!” but sokka’s like “fuck that i’ll take what i can get.” he finds jeong jeong, and even though jeong jeong calls him an oaf, he turns out to be a pretty good student. he fears fire and values discipline, which is all jeong jeong really asks for. by some pure happenstance (because sokka and toph will always find each other) they find the perfect teacher in gaoling. she escapes with them as they head to the north pole, but once they arrive her feet are freezing and she’s forced to wear boots, at which point sokka agrees to carry her everywhere. then he meets yue and accidentally drops her.

pakku agrees to train sokka but refuses to train katara. at first sokka’s like “well it’s fine because you can learn from master yagoda how to heal and i’ll learn how to fight and then we can swap notes,” but he quickly realizes that this is a bad plan because they refuse to listen to each other, so instead he just demands that pakku teach katara. pakku is obstinate, so katara fights him, at which point he realizes that she’s kanna’s granddaughter so problem solved i guess. sokka also learns healing from yagoda, because having the ability to heal and not exercising it is silly. during the siege of the north, sokka goes to the spirit oasis to attempt to ask the spirits for aid, but the only times he’s ever been to the spirit world have been when the spirits allowed it, and as it turns out, he’s really bad at meditating. which is for the best, because it means he’s prepared for zuko’s attack, and he and katara work together to stop him. they don’t kill him, but only because yue is looking at him with fear and it makes him hesitate. then before they can stop him, zhao kills tui and yue sacrifices herself, and sokka turns into a giant spirit koi and goes apeshit in his grief.

sokka, katara, and toph decide to trust a general who will help sokka harness the power of the avatar state to defeat the firelord. sokka is all for it. he’s like “yeah i’ll be used as a weapon and kill as many people as it takes to end the war.” he’s fine with this. it’s his duty as avatar after all. so the war ends quicker than in the show. he finds a map of the fire nation, toph helps him enter the palace through a secret tunnel (cue the song), and alone he enters ozai’s throne room and fights him. he doesn’t even need to enter the avatar state to kill him. he just uses the waterbending techniques he picked up from yagoda to reach into his chest and explode his heart. sokka uses his influence as avatar and firelord-killer to end the war and navigate all the complicated postwar politics.

the end.

see? it’s not as good.

but there are still some elements that make this version compelling. for one thing, sokka would have to interact with the spirit world. a lot. and he wouldn’t be happy about it. he doesn’t like that they pose questions that don’t have answers. and so he decides to wield his power as a tool for war, rather than against it. he wields his cultural influence to exert control over the world. a story where sokka is avatar (and with no aang to temper him and make him laugh) is necessarily a story as cynical as sokka is. but if that’s what you want, then there’s no better candidate. (also, he'd come up with some really creative bending techniques, and that would be pretty interesting.)

(however, if that is really what you want, just read the kyoshi and/or yangchen novels. they’re basically just worlds populated with sokkas.)

8) finally, mai and ty lee’s stories as the avatar would be much the same, so it doesn’t matter which. they are both enlisted to join azula’s small, elite team to return zuko home in dishonor, and to capture the avatar. so they must hide in the lion’s den, obscuring their identity from those they keep closest. their world is already one of dual loyalties and secrets; what’s one more? mai and/or ty lee only reveal their true powers at the boiling rock, to keep the other safe. together, they defeat all the guards holding them back, go into the avatar state to reach the cliffside before azula’s airship departs to the western air temple. azula is outraged, shocked, and hurt. ty lee somehow talks sokka into letting them hitch a ride back, and that’s how mai and ty lee join team avatar. of course, one of them is actually the avatar, so that’s not what their team is named in this scenario. although it gets named that after they join. and mai and/or ty lee defeats ozai. the end.

this version is a version that, like azula’s, specifically explores the costs of lying and keeping your identity hidden. it is similar of course to their actual narrative, while also exacerbating the impact of aang’s initial introduction, but the stakes necessarily become even higher, and the story becomes focalized on their internal struggles in a way the show never truly did. so to any mai and/or ty lee fans, it’s compelling on those grounds alone.

in conclusion, even the more compelling alternate characters—exploring deception, secret identities, ruthless violence, and spiritual conundrums—do not actually make for more interesting protagonists than aang. i would say that azula definitely comes closest to being the most compelling alternate avatar, with sokka, mai, and ty lee being compelling insofar as it presents opportunities for their internality and cynicism to be explored. jet would also be pretty interesting thematically, but you know i hate his vibes. and yue’s narrative would completely reshape the story, so that could be compelling as well. but ultimately, aang needs to be the avatar for the story to work, and even in azula’s case, as a fascinating replacement figure, her original role in aang’s story is fascinating enough. without aang in the central role, the show just isn’t as good.

#ecothroat #asks #the gaang and #AUs #azula #sokka #(mostly) #had to put most of it under the cut because i started rambling for way too long #even though the short answer here is simply: no. aang must be the avatar #that was a lot of words to dismiss the question entirely huh?

[rookthorne]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑵

》 𝐀 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

It had come time for the final chase. Halloween had loomed in the back of your mind, until the night finally came. The Soldat’s promise from your first encounter rang true as you prepared — a promise that terrified and excited you in equal measure.  Time would only tell, and you had to hope you were ready for the final hunt.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 》 Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 》 3.2k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 》 Fluff, consensual stalking, primal, knife play, implied spice, use of a mask in an unorthodox situation, possessive behaviour

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 》 The conclusion to my first published multi-chapter fic and it has been some of the most fun I have ever had. 》 Thank you all so much for the love and interaction. 》 Happy Halloween, my chaos kittens!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 》 @smutconnoisseur

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 》 @rookthorne's Fright Night — Masterlist

》 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

》 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

Halloween night loomed, rushing closer and closer as you worked feverishly. The hours flew by faster than you could catch them, and you were growing desperate to gain a semblance of control over the chaos that was your costume. 

The moniker of kitten had inspired the last minute changes to your outfit – soft, fluffy, white ears sat on a headband, while the rest of your outfit followed the theme, too. 

By some miracle, you had found gloves that resembled white paws, and white boots that shone under the light of your bedroom. It was a comfortable fit – easy to move in, which would serve you well, and you had a very strong feeling that Bucky would love it. 

Since he had dropped you home that morning, you had texted one another non-stop to the point he had to put his foot down and tell you to switch off your phone to sleep. You had cursed him out with numerous, foul emojis, and said goodnight. He had laughed and wished you sweet dreams. 

Later that morning, when you finally awoke, you found he had texted as he prepared for that night’s celebrations. There were photos of his costume, stripped and cleaned, hung up on a coat hanger to dry with the caption attached: battle ready, it’s going to be insane tonight. I can’t wait to hunt you down.

The words had made the butterflies in your stomach roar and pitch such a fit you had to sit on the edge of your bed to get your bearings back. Texts followed on from that promising threat, and he said that he would not be wearing kohl that night, but he would be carrying more prop weapons – his favourites, as he so giddily stated. 

It was an odd situation to sit back and think about. With such a fast connection, unlike any you had developed before, you had grown to crave his presence and his touch. Bucky was a man that had his head on straight, prioritising respect and kindness – a feat most couldn’t even be bothered to achieve. 

With that thought, and realisation, a strange, foreign feeling settled in your stomach – the butterflies that fluttered there seemingly becoming lighter, as though they would take flight and carry you with them. 

Nightfall arrived quickly once you had finally sorted and dressed in your costume, and the moon was high in the sky as you journeyed to your haven.

The sheer amount of people that crowded the entrance of the park was astonishing. Every single visitor, of all ages, were dressed head to toe in costumes that ranged from expert to home crafted. Colours, props, and contrasts made few stand out amongst them. 

An hour prior to your arrival, you received a text from Bucky – he was on shift and he was now in costume. Since his suit had no viable pocket for his phone, that meant that he would also be unreachable from that point on. With that announcement, he had also doubled down on the threats of being hunted from the moment you would step foot in the park. 

If you were honest, you weren’t sure whether he was given help to find you via a comms device in his ear, or if he truly was that skilled in tracking and finding you in the crowd. 

Music blasted from the numerous speakers that lined the entryway and fogged billowed from machines as you neared the entry booth. It was almost unrecognisable from the first night of your visit, and compared to the night before, the decorations were even more intense. 

The park pyrotechnics lit up the fences and buildings in beat with the music, a song you recognised to be a tune similar to something resembling Rob Zombie – though it was hard to tell over all of the yelling and screaming from those already in the park. 

You watched as actors stalked up and down the lines, jostling visitors and riling up the try-hards, when a familiar face came into view. 

“Ah, there she is,” they said, and your eyes widened as they approached. If you weren’t mistaken, this was Bucky’s best friend, Steve – the man clad in black that you had bumped into the night before. “I was told a little lamb would make it back tonight. A certain Soldat has passed on the message that you were to…” He looked up and down the line, gesturing boredly. “Skip the crowds. C’mon, no point waiting out for your slaughter.”

Steve offered his hand, and you hesitated in taking it. “This isn’t a ploy to corner me, is it?”

He laughed, a deep rumble in his chest. You couldn’t help but stare at the blazing red insignia there. “No, no, I think I’d end up dead if I decided to target you myself. He’s a bit ruthless, not to mention territorial over what’s his.”

You blinked and looked at Steve, he only shrugged. “His?” you repeated, walking side by side with him. 

“Yeah,” Steve laughed. He led you between the booth lines and waved to the worker as he walked past. “It seems our Soldat has taken to the little lamb that ventured out of her depth. I can’t blame him, though,” he said, arching a brow as he looked at you from the corner of his eye. “You are sweet–feisty, too.”

“You flatter me,” you deadpanned, and Steve barked a laugh. “So, where is he?”

“Oh, he’ll find you, lamb. Run along–get a head start if you want to make it out alive tonight.” With that last threat, Steve turned and strode off, leaving you in the entryway of the park between the arches of the rides and food court. 

Pyrotechnics and fog plagued your vision – yellow and orange flames followed by glowing green and purple smoke that roiled and rolled at your feet. The lack of any markers like there had been the previous nights left you feeling disorientated; lost and scared for your fate at the hands of the one that hunted you. 

There was a crowd of people moving past you when the first scare of the night overtook you. A middle-aged man pointed up towards the top of a prop building. “He’s there, look!”

Your stomach swooped and your heart rammed against your ribs. The implication of him sent a harsh shiver up your spine, but you still looked to the sky, searching the top of the surrounding buildings. 

A blast of fire silhouetted a crouched man on the building furthest to your left. He was crouched on the edge, perched with a rifle in his hands; the scope was pointed straight at you. Time slowed as you stared, taking in the way the man’s hands flexed over the trigger before there was a shot, not unlike the sound of a cannon blasting off, and the ground at your feet was splattered with red. 

Tendrils of it landed over your shoes and pants, splattering over your white costume and marking it for all to see. You yelled in shock as you rapidly stepped back, treading on the shoes of passersby in an attempt to get away from the scene. 

“Sorry, sorry! Shit-” you hissed, stopping only once you reached a few paces from the splattered red. The state of your costume was alarming – it was as though you had been an extra on the set of Carrie. 

Instinctively, you looked up at the prop building to find that man standing tall on the edge. The gun was pointed down towards his feet, and the strap was over his chest. You watched as Soldat tilted his head, long hair swaying to the side with the movement, and he pointed directly at your chest, then your feet.

The message was clear. You had been marked – marked for the hunt, and he was after you. 

“Fuck.” 

People parted quickly as you rushed off, running in a random direction to get some semblance of a head start against him. Your feet pounded against the pavement in time with the beat of the music and it fuelled your adrenaline – a game of chase unlike any you’d experienced before. “Excuse me, move,” you shouted over the music, shoving the people who didn’t move in time. 

Actors called and whoop after you, the signature bloody mark over your clothes a sign they evidently knew well. 

“And there goes our little lamb,” Widow called as you dashed past. “Run, run! He’s after you!”

“Thanks!” you yelled over your shoulder, and you took a sharp turn towards the amenities. There was a small building to the side, it was shrouded in the dark and considering its distance from the main crowds, you wouldn’t be discovered. At least, not by a bystander – Soldat was another beast entirely. 

The stitch in your chest pulled you up short and you stumbled to the building, putting your back against it with a gasp for air. Muffled sounds echoed from the grounds; screams, music, and pleas to be left alone, but there was not a single sign that Soldat had followed. “Maybe I’m safe,” you mumbled, looking from left to right. No moving shadows, no shrouded figures…

You moved off the wall, stepping slowly and deliberately towards the lights of the overhead spotlights. The pad of your shoes squelched with the wet substance that coated them – of which you prayed was in fact, just paint – and you peered around the corner. No one was there, and you released a sigh of relief. 

“You really must learn to be better aware of your surroundings, kotenok.”

The scream tore from your throat before you could clamp your mouth shut, and you whipped around to find the source – Soldat was leaning against the opposite wall, foot propped up against it while he flipped a knife in his metal hand, ignorant of the glint of the blade as it flashed. “Bucky!”

Soldat tilted his head. “It is not that easy, little one. I promised that by the fall of this night, you would know just who you belonged to–as far as I can tell, you still do not seem to understand that you are in my world now, and at my mercy.”

“You son of a bitch,” you groaned, putting your hands on your hips. “That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” He pushed off the wall. The graceful way he moved entranced you and you flinched as he stepped in front of you, head tilted the opposite way; grey irises shrouded with shadowed intent. “Oh, kotenok–if only you knew just what I plan on doing to you when I catch you in our little game. You would not be so petulant.”

“Game?” you blustered, staring back at him with indignation. “This is a game to you? Making me run for my life, this act all for fun?”

Soldat leaned in close, his breath hot over your lips again – if he had not been wearing the mask, you would have taken the chance to kiss him. “Run, kotenok, run.” 

The implicit danger of his words made a shudder of fear ripple down your spine. You turned and bolted, not caring as you passed by crowds that stared; pointedly ignoring the whoops of actors that watched your progress with sneers of amusement. 

Your legs ached with exhaustion but you didn’t dare stop for rest. There were shrieks and calls behind you, each of which sounded more exhilarated and fearful than the last: “It’s him! Look!” and “Soldat’s here!”

“You are not fast enough,” Soldat rasped behind you, his voice trailing all the way down to your last nerve. You shrieked and jumped, pushing your tired legs harder, the pounding of your feet on the pavement quickening. “If you concede, little kotenok,” he continued, this time from right next to you, “I will go easy on my prey. Just this once.”

“Bastard,” you huffed, and with all the strength you could muster, you pushed forward and darted between two food stands, forcing him to fall back. “Can’t catch me now!”

Your bravado soared when you glanced back over your shoulder to see he was no longer tailing you. The ache in your legs reached such a pitch that you stumbled to a choppy walk, limping as you panted for breath and frantically thinking of where to run next. 

“Fuck, fuck,” you huffed, and you sat down on an empty bench, careful to not have your back against the shrubbery, lest he surprise you again. “I can’t keep doing this.” 

For a second, you closed your eyes and breathed deeply, collecting your scrambled thoughts, when a hand covered your mouth and another cupped your throat. “You can, kotenok. And you will.”

You jumped and looked up. Soldat was looking down at you, eyes narrowed playfully. A cold, metal thumb brushed against the front of your throat, and to an onlooker, it would appear as though he was adjusting his grip. He bent down so his hair tickled your cheeks. “Are you alright, doll? Do you need to stop?”

The words were quiet, but assuring, especially while dressed in character. You shook your head and looked into his eyes. “I’m okay–promise, you’re just giving me a run for my money.”

He chuckled and stood up straight, the brightness of his eyes completely out of character. “Why don’t you walk with me?” He gestured around at the crowds, and he pulled out his knife to flip it. “I have been told I can make an appearance and stay out in the open tonight–keep the myth alive.”

“Why not,” you replied, getting to your feet with a groan. “I could do with just a walk.” 

“That is fair,” he hummed. “I must admit, our game of cat and mouse has grown to be such a rush. You make it far too easy for me, though.” You looked over at him and narrowed your eyes. He shrugged indifferently and walked ahead of you, still flipping the knife. “Stay with me, kotenok. You can watch these people lose it.”

“Okay,” you laughed, and you kept a steady pace, careful to stay behind Bucky – the distance allowed you an opportunity to stare at his ass while he walked, which led to the discovery that the tactical canvas pants of his costume clung to his thighs just as well as his jeans. “You have a nice butt.”

You heard a snort of laughter that was covered by a cough, and you watched him shake his head. “What? It’s true.” 

“Do not distract me,” he growled lowly – just audible over the pounding music. “Or you will pay for it.”

“That a threat or a promise?” you fired back, and you could have sworn you had flipped a switch in his mind by the tense line of his shoulders and sudden rigid posture. 

The look he fired you over his shoulder made your legs turn to jelly, and you vaguely filed away that tidbit of information away for later – much, much later. 

At a small distance, you followed Bucky as he walked through the crowds. There was one instance where, like you, a man must have signed the waiver to be handled by The Soldat, because Bucky pinned him against the wall and stared into the stranger’s eyes as he stared wide-eyed back. 

Music boomed to the right of you so you couldn’t make out the whimper or the words that escaped his lips, but Bucky pulled back off of the man to watch him slump down onto the floor. 

With his back turned and the stillness of his body, you took the chance to take in his costume. High on his back, between his shoulder blades, a gun was holstered with a magazine attached, while holsters on his thighs and hips were full to the brim with other props. The rifle he had used on you at the beginning of the night wasn’t strapped to his back, but you took note of the large knife strapped to his belt where the scope would have sat. 

The outfit did something to you, something that you couldn’t understand, and you filed that away for further thought at a later time – unable to think with the heat that settled low in your hips at his intimidating stature. “Stop it,” you muttered to yourself quietly, shaking your head once. “Get it together.”

Soldat turned towards you and you baulked at the glint in his eye – on an ordinary man, you would have described it as anger, or fury. On him, while in costume, it looked as though he had been possessed by the Devil himself. As he neared, he arched a brow in question, when you realised you were still staring. “Nothing, nothing,” you rushed, stepping back. 

“No. Move,” he ordered, gesturing for you to walk forward. 

Hesitantly, you stepped forward and started to walk, glancing over your shoulder at him. He continued to stare at you, then flicker his gaze to a passerby and flipping his knife. It sent a rush of power to your head to have someone as dangerous as him walk behind you – seemingly in a guarding disposition, but that went out the window when you felt a knife on your throat. 

“You did not think I would be that easy on you, little kotenok–hmm?” Soldat purred, his mask cold against your ear. Your breath hitched and you moved to pull away, but he snarled and grabbed your throat with his other hand. “Stay where I put you or you will regret it.”

“What-”

“Nyet. Quiet.” The crowds moved around you, staring transfixed as he manipulated you into standing against his chest, just like the first night. “I think my trophy deserves to be shown off. They need to know that you are mine.”

Fear pulsed through your body, confused with his words, you didn’t know what to expect, when cold, hard plastic covered your mouth. You furrowed your brow as he stepped back from you, then clipped something behind your head. “What–? Buck-”

Your hand moved to your mouth, and your eyes widened. A mask, identical to his own, covered the lower half of your face and it fit perfectly – not pinching or pulling at any point of contact or movement. “You gave me–?”

“My trophy,” he edged carefully, bringing the tip of his knife to your chin and tipping your head up. “Mine.”

The possessive behaviour made a thrill of arousal sing through your every nerve, and you gulped. “I do not think they would dare go after you now, my little kotenok. And, look at that,” he said, directing your face to the sky. The night had lightened and dawn had approached, much faster than you had anticipated. “The final night has now fallen, and you belong to me–just as you should.”

You blinked owlishly, the cogs of your mind freezing and clunking into place. “Is this you- Are you-” The words were muffled by the mask over your mouth, but the glint in his eyes were as knowing as ever – vulnerable and open. 

He stepped closer so he was in your space, his breath coming in slow, deep pulls. Ever so quietly and out of character, Bucky asked, “Be my girl, kitten?”

The world fell away, the music, the screams – all of it fell to the background and became non-existent. You had hoped, after the night before, with how fast you had developed a connection with Bucky over those milkshakes, that this would happen. It felt reckless and otherworldly, saying yes to such a proposition in the middle of a haunted attraction to a scare actor dressed in costume.

But what was a little rebellious adventure?

You looked into Bucky’s eyes – not The Soldat’s, and smiled. “Hell fucking yes.”

nyet = no

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluff #rookthorne's works

[maopll]

Hello!

Can I request Ayato, Zhongli, Al-Haitham and Kaveh getting a hand-crafted sculpture (a small one not a humongous one) from their sculptor girlfriend?

AS I CAPTURED YOU IN MY ART

| genshin impact !

⌗:, a/n: HSHSHSH anon if I was physically there with these feast for the eyes men I would hold them down and paint a thousand portraits. this is basically me in a nutshell if I was ever there.

⌗:, warning: none

⌗:, pairings: ayato, zhongli, alhaitham and kaveh w/ fem!reader (separately)

,,sculpting has always been your favourite task, and being a sculptor yourself, you have great taste in selecting only the things that are alluring and charming. so when you have a man who is so beautiful and also your lover...hohoho these hands won't be keeping to themselves.

AYATO KAMISATO ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

the mole beneath his soft lips, the periwinkle droopy soft eyes, and the fluffy cloud-like hair. how can he look so dignified and charming at the same time? even though you like his composoed demeanor but when you two are alone and he has his hair in a loose ponytail with hair slicked back, you drool and have heart eyes.

you are a sculptor and what better way to carve him out of precious jades for you to preserve his beauty? so you did just that. you found yourself some noctilucous jade when you were in liyue. they were not in bulk amounts but atlesst you would be able to capture his face.

ayato had a separate place arranged for you in the kamisato estate because you were their most frequent visitor and you would even stay a few nights or so in there. while he would retire to his bed for the night he would knock on your door to see if you would sleep now but he would only be met with a "I'll sleep later !" from you follower by a few clashing and clinking sounds. he was worried you were up to no good but he decided to believe you.

so just imagine his sheer surprise when he had a perfectly carved portrait of his from noctilucous jade. it was truly a precious gift but he wondered who gave it to him but after tracing his memories back he knew you made it.

he had this lovesick smile on his face and a slight blush dusting his cheeks as he patiently waited for your return so that he can reciprocate his love to you for making such a priceless piece for him and him only. you bought the noctilucous jade with his money, but it's fine

ZHONGLI ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

he is the god of stone and contracts so could there possibly be someone who can carve better sculptors other than the god himself ? yes and that's why you are here

he looks like a masterpiece and you are not going to have regrets later in the future thinking that you could not sculpt him so you brought some random stone you found in Mt.Hulao and started carving.

he hasn't been seeing you around lately, and truly, he got nervous that something happened to you, so he put xiao up to the task to see what you were up to and you are no fool you knew he would send someone so you told him beforehand to not let Zhongli know about it.

The dates when his birthday was and the day when you completed your zhongli sculptor coincided and honestly you were ecstatic to show him what you made..but the thought that he is THE GOD and you're a mere plebeian who made this but you should atlesst show him right? so there you go keeping it on his work desk inside your house.

he came inside the room and saw you standing there with this bright smile on your face and he was even more happy than you because he is finally able to see after so long!

"happy birthday 'li I made this cake and...uhh this maybe a little wonky but I hope you like my sculptor of yours."

he has many sculptures of himself scattered across teyvat, but yours hold special meaning to him. while those who carved him were out of devotion, yours were out of unadulterated love. no matter how much time passes by... throughout centuries and millennials, he will keep your gift close to his heart

ALHAITHAM ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Acting Grand Sage here held an indifferent point of view towards performing arts but when he started dating you he saw how much you loved sculpting and painting more than anything although you never read in the academiya.

he always thought that you might find his taste in art very "bland" like how kaveh said so imagine his surprise when he found you making a carving of him with the same aesthetic that he likes.

your boyfriend had been out and about taking care of the academiya works and cleaning the mess those sages made so he's been busy lately but you have nothing to do so you thought "haithie just moved into a new office so I should make him something as a decoration and as a gift! :D"

many in the grand bazaar praised you for your masterpieces so you were quite confident in what you were making. so you brought some clay from the market and proceeded with it.

when he would return home he would find you covered in clay and...'is that an unfinished sculpture?? for who is it?' but he never got his answer from you. so he didn't pry further.

On entering his office one day he found a sculpture of his set aside near the lamp. he approached it and just stared in awe at your craft. it's was perfect. truth be told even he never knew that you could make him look so perfect.

the sculpture that you sent was always kept near the lamp, it was never moved from its position. he truly admired your works and to think that he would get a carving of himself would always get a smile on his face as he would quietly thank you for being there with him...but how did you get the access to the office??? he guessed that it would be a story for another day

KAVEH ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

He himself is a renowned architect. he can make paintings, he can play instruments and he can make masterpieces. so the both of you falling in love was by fate. and he has never stopped reminding his girlfriend again and again how prefect your pieces are and how intricate your details were.

although kaveh has been suffering from paying off debts you had always helped him by providing him with funds from your works when you would sell them. he has been so indebted you and he is thankful to the archon for giving him the best significant other.

kaveh was departing for the desert now to gather architecture details and designs for his client so he wouldn't be back for atlesst 2 to 3 weeks or so. both you and him would be alone so you thought about giving him a parting gift before he resumes his journey and also let him keep it as a luck charm.

so what should you gift him with the skill you have? a sculpture! so you made brought some gypsum from the market to make it waterproof and hard so that he doesn't break it when he's on his research.

it took you some time to make it perfect because he is perfect and you ofcourse cannot forget his signature feather accessory in his hair.

and then came the day of you presenting it to him. he just stared at the sculpture for a few minutes and stood there observing it carefully. then the next moment he came crashing on you spewing 'I love you, I love you so much' and he meant it really. this had to be the best present he ever received from someone

he feels blessed when he looks at your token of affection because he found a girlfriend, a lover made for eachother. once he gathers enough to make ends meet he will surely take you out to show just how much he loves you <3

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #ayato x reader #ayato x fem!reader #ayato fluff #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #ayato kamisato #zhongli fluff #genshin alhaitham #genshin ayato #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #kaveh x reader #genshin kaveh #kaveh fluff

[enderwoah]

jimmy solidarity is so intrinsically mind-meltingly confusing i love him dearly and i want to squish him with a passion and i want him to win (or lose) the next life series installment and here is why

(this is a very long insanity fuelled rant sorry but if you too are obsessed with jimmy solidarity and the concept of him actually not being pathetic and possibly winning heres the post for you)

jimmy solidarity is the kind of guy that literally has one gimmick and its being the most pathetic person on every server he has the pleasure of being on. he is the wet cat of a man that gets bullied and taken advantage of and nobody listens to him when he complains or objects to anything and yet not once has he truly gotten angry about it because hes just that nice of a guy. sort of.

cause i dont know about yall, but jimmy solidarity is kind of a bastard to me?? i will never forget him swindling joey out of 50% of his gunpowder profits (u think that wasnt swindling?? consider the following: he was earning NOTHING before joey started doing gunpowder on his own. NOTHING. and yet all he had to do was go over and put on his little sad pitiful pathetic song and dance and beg for a cut of joey's profits and suddenly: whats that? a net profit?) i will never forget the sheer amount of times this guy has had to hold himself back from straight up killing or aattacking someone; not because of morals or kindness or goodwill, but out of spite. but out of "i need to be better than this person it hurts them more if i dont kill them in cold blood (in my head)." i will never forget the amount of times he has just straight up punched someone in the nose (/rp) because they were being mildly annoying in the middle of a conversation.

im not saying hes a mastermind thats manipulating everyone by acting lame but also just a little bit?? minus the manipulation part?? hes proven on multiple occassions that he isnt like stupid idiot baby man. like yeah he can be a little incompetent sometimes but so can scar and by now we have ALL recognised that scar is terrifying and could raze the server by himself if he so pleased. i think if jimmy solidarity's main bit wasnt 'its funny when my friends bully me' he could genuinely cause some serious damage. i think the one time hes like ever made a trap on his own in the life series (the one in his doorway in last life) it worked flawlessly which. like. a trap. in the life series. working flawlessly. hello. sure it was basic but the fact that it worked without a hitch should alone be a testament to his ability

and if thats too obscure for u i mean we can step out of the life series for a little bit and just direct you to the fact that he isnt bad at minecraft like at all?? if u havent had the pleasure of watching his dodgebolt 1v3 i really reccomend it because youd THINK that someone bad at minecraft would be trembling in his boots and being in a total panic in that situation. hell even someone AMAZING at minecraft in that position (grian) literally sounded on the verge of throwing up for his entire time and thats FAIR. thats NORMAL.

all i am saying is that jimmy solidarity rolled up to this 1v3, said 'ive got this,' and took out two people in literally a second and a half. and then just chill-ly said 'ive got this' again. the only time he sounded mildly panicked was when tommy was making him dodge for a ridiculously long amount of time. as soon as tommy missed twice- or, rather, as soon as he dodged tommy's bolts twice, mine brother in craft took one shot after like five seconds and it was over. every SINGLE time i decide to watch a jimmy mcc pov im sitting there like. 'damn. DAMN?? JIMMY SOLIDARITY???? POPPING OFF???????" at like more than one point every single time. there are so many other places that hes demonstrated that he isnt bad at minecraft but its late/early and my memory doesnt work like it used to

which brings me back to the life series. since we all know that his 'being bullied hahaheeheehoohoo' bit is a bit (and hey. its a good bit. im not saying its a bad bit. i think its funny and i think it gets even funnier when jim starts fighting back. if youre gonna have a long-lasting gimmick thats a good one and jimmy does a swell job at making it entertaining and also making it clear that it isnt serious) this means that he can un-bit it for a bit. or at least peel away the bit a little.

im just saying jimmy solidarity has huge bastard energy and hes allowed to let it free in the life series!! he will burn things down he will cheer at traps he will fight for his friends he wil fight tooth and nail and claw for his life (he started last life with two lives. he never got any more. he only died due to a trap and due to murder like COME ON). if he wanted to burn down a base he could if he wanted to set up a huge trap PERSONALLY i think he could hell i think if he went up to someone in 1v1 combat he would at least have a chance (depending on the person of course). i mean look at his dodgebolt performance all the man needs is a bow and some distance and hes APPARENTLY set for life!!

ill say it

if jimmy solidarity played it smart, he could win the life series. easily.

jimmy is good at making alliances with people (coughs and kicks the southlands betrayal underneath the rug Ignore That One he was Desperate he started off with two lives remember honestly it was a justified move) hes a litlte bit silly stupid and oft acts impulsively but he can direct that impulsivity against one person and for another. if he got himself in a squad like he did in 3rd and last life and stopped playing up the pathetic bit and set a trap for once in his life (/endeared) he could actually get himself some kills. some Real kills, not accidentally blowing up ren and skizz with tnt.

i dont even care how he does it. i just want him to win. and if he doesnt win, i want him to come top five at LEAST before getting horrifically stabbed in the back by someone he had been running with for the whole series that is the ONLY loss i will accept and still be happy about. the man deserves a girlboss moment please we're approaching two years let the man LIVE

#will be making another post expanding upon him winning #i need to get out ALL of my brainrot #all of it #but first i needed to rant without direction #thank you #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #life series #3rd life #last life #double life #last life jimmy #trafficblr #grian #yippee

[sminiac]

hey!!

four days ago it was my 5 month being a roady and yechan is my bias since day 1 as a roady, could i request a bf!yechan headcanons?

remember to eat and to drink water !! 💜

💌 — I apologize for how late this is but 5 MONTHS!!! Love that for you bestie, of course you can <3

Bf!Yechan who always has to have proof of your existence on him one way or another. The type to spray your signature fragrance all over his clothes before he leaves- like, douses himself in it so the scent will stick longer. He generally likes the scent, but it also helps him fall asleep faster which is why he’s always asking for “just one more.” And If he happens to be wearing a hoodie be prepared to receive a plethora of pictures from the boys of him sleeping with the neck part pulled up to cover his nose :,)

Ex: Get him a candle a candle with the same notes as your fragrance and he’s gonna be sleeping gooood. Same with the actual fragrance, if you buy him the same scent he’d layer it over his usual, also likes spraying it on his pillow/blanket because then it feels like you’re really there with him :,)

Bf!Yechan who was the type to be affectionate with you even before things were official but only in a teasing manner because he was scared of everything suddenly coming to a stop once he confessed, and he’d rather have you platonically than not at all. Always putting in the effort to sit beside you, even if he had to physically drag someone out of their seat, holding your hand, arm around your shoulders if you were walking somewhere, pulling your legs to rest over his thighs. Feel like he’d try so hard to brush it off when his members became a little suspicious, like he didn’t have a huge, absolutely massive crush on you, but the amount of times a “Where’s Y/n?” was casually dropped it was kinda, sorta obvious.

Ex: suddenly he would barely touch you once you’re officially together without becoming incredibly nervous, so stiff and uncertain of himself, constantly asking: “Is this okay?” and he’s literally just laying his head on your shoulder? He’s so silly, just wants everything to be right with you. Once he’s past breaking that invisible barrier it’s hard to get him off, sweet koala boy😞

Bf!Yechan would absolutely curate a very intricately crafted playlist for you, listening along with you throughout the whole duration of it as if he hadn’t already spent so many hours editing it that he could recite the track titles with ease. Drops little fun facts about certain songs and as to why he specifically added them, and they’re such personalized picks, it’s either added for the lyrics or it’s a song the both of you like, or one he remembers from a certain moment with you.

Ex: he’d also make one for you with songs he likes atm/what he thinks you’d like :,) is always: “Baby we should listen to our playlist!”

Bf!Yechan who so blindly follows anything you say that if you were to request of him to leave and come back with a members shoe he’s doing just that 😭 no but he’s so sweet, if you forget to grab your jacket on the way out and quickly asking of him to go back and grab it for you he’s scurrying off, knowing there’ll be a kiss in return, does anything if it means that he’s being compensated with your affection, it’s so serious to a point that his members use it against it him.

Ex: specifically during practice, he’s feeling a little sluggish from the sheer amount of energy being used in their choreo being run again for what feels like the 1000th time and he just wants to lay down or goof off? He can’t, because Minjae- being the leader he is, implements a rule as to keep him in check, constantly reminding him: “You can see Y/n after we go through this one more time, so you better focus.” And suddenly he’s locked in, Minjae swears you and the promise of food after is the only thing keeping him standing, but it also pushes Yechan to want to do better knowing you’re watching, just wants to impress you!

Bf!Yechan who cares about you so much that he’s willing to make any love language one of his own!!

Words of affirmation? He’d do it without even knowing and it always leaves you: 🥹 because it’s such a normal thing to him, rolls right off the tongue. He’d be such a good comforter when it comes to his partner, works on reading the room specifically for you because he’d never want to make your feelings seem insignificant to him, is so good at verbalizing that too :,)

Acts of service? “What do I get in return?” Is his answer 99.9% of the time when you ask him to do something, and as I previously mentioned, that 1% is him already fully expectant of receiving something for his efforts. He’ll tease, but is always willing to do what you ask of him.

Gift giving? Just thought of this but have you seen those holiday themed gift baskets? I feel like he’d understand the hype, goes out of his way to put one together for you but it’s full of silly things he’d get a kick out of. He’d get you stuff that he knows you like, of course, but for the most part he’s like “Isn’t this what a holiday gift basket is?” And it’s full of generic things associated with the specific holiday and that doesn’t pertain to you in the slightest. He’d never learn, does it every year, thinks it’s so funny when you’re like “Huh???” At some of the stuff he put in. I feel like he’s also the type to put together a bouquet for you made from hand picked wildflowers instead of store bought ones, seems like something he’d do :b hand written love letters always, ugh i just want to punch his cheeks, he’d be so warm and pink in the face when giving it to you!!

Quality time? Loves bringing you everywhere, you just make every experience much more enjoyable, it’s like taking a piece of home with him, and if he’s ever feeling stressed or anxious he’ll never be worried for long because you’re there. If the both of you are abroad for his schedule and he’s a little spooked by the amount of people that await for him and his members, he’s dragging you away for some alone time, away from the noise. Loves big, long, comfy hugs, always needs one before performing, usually closes his eyes and lets himself sink completely into your arms.

Physical touch? A sucker for it, truly. Frequently uses your thighs as a pillow no matter your location, and sometimes holding your hand while walking just isn’t enough, results in him waddling behind you with his arms securely wrapped around your torso 😔 does it for as long as he can.

Bf!Yechan who is so warm and kind it’s making me sob!!!!!

#bf!xikers #lee yechan #lee yechan x reader #lee yechan imagines #lee yechan xikers #xikers lee yechan #xikers yechan #xikers yechan x reader #xikers imagines #xikers x reader #xikers #xikers fluff #xikers soft hours

[banavalope]

Hello, I'm a Homestuck and Good Omens fan and just saw your post about coffee. I came to the Homestuck fandom way late, though, and don't know what the coffee theory was. I was wondering if you'd be willing to share that story from the trenches if it's not too traumatic :)

I'll preface by saying, this all happened near about the time I began to step away from Homestuck, as this was late 2011 to early 2012. My recollection could very well be missing some juicier deets, because I always managed to avoid the worst of it. In all I had a pretty benign time floating about the Homestuck fandom, I'll say that. My knowledge is as a fly's.

If you want the short version: once upon a time, the Homestuck fandom was so stupid it had discourse over the way coffee was drawn in a single panel, because the stylistic choice used to show the way cheap potted coffee has that oil slick sheen on the top Really got the gamerz thinking Gamzee was putting troll blood in the coffee.

The long version is this: this Act was annoying. All the Acts had been annoying, there'd been rather more than six of them so far. The fandom's toxicity was at its most potent, and the main fandom exodus hadn't happened yet. But the stylistic choice brewing on page 4702 of A6I2 suggested a discourse was on the horizon, and it was the size of planet fucking Jupiter.

To understand the affairs of 2011/12 Homestucks, a few things are important to mention: first, nobody enjoyed Act 6. Ask anyone from the tumblr era First Wave, we all agreed that Cascade would have been a better place to start wrapping up the comic as a whole. When Act 6 opened introducing the alpha kids, a whole new plot derivative, and we all realized we'd have to go through the same slog again, that the story wasn't over, the collective exhaustion was palpable. SWATHS left unhappy; worse yet (for some), the alpha kids brought us away from the game of SBURB and the over-aching plot, to instead place our focus on their interpersonal relationships. It was a bad time to take your audience away from a well crafted climax.

Reading it now as a completed work makes this not so bad, because the book is wrote. You can consume it as a finished piece and clearly interpret a through line for yourself, start to finish. Skip it even, if you want. When you've no idea at what time the next update will come, while all the pieces remain necessary to tell the story, any pacing is bad pacing.

Second, while Homestucks are known for many things - all of them cringe - the one that goes overlooked most, in spite of the ripple effect we still feel from it today in every corner, is the sheer amount of over analyzing done to the story itself. Every panel, every inch of every pixel, was a part of a puzzle we all collectively made up. Theorizing was an integral part to the Update Culture era of Homestuck's fandom, that we Figure Out the Story, you had to be the one who predicted what came next. Impressive how none of us came up with some kind of fandom Nobel Peace Prize, for how much we lauded it as a lifetime achievement.

I'll give you, Homestuck does have a very rich narrative. Much of it, I'll favor, is even intentional. It made worldbuilding choices captivating enough to get people painting themselves grey, for fun, so surely it had a few right ideas in some places. And there's nothing wrong about analyzing your media, picking apart its references to tie together a background story, even if it's just one you make up based on how you experienced reading it. That's kind of the whole point of consuming art. It's to be discussed, share your personal conclusions on. Theory is the breath of creativity.

It's the whole part about wanting to be right, where Homestucks as a collective force wanted to start eating each other alive on the spot. We were fucking OBNOXIOUS with theory posting. I'll be honest with you, I really ate that kind of thing up, and even I was getting annoyed. People were beginning to stretch, likely to cope with becoming bored.

Finally, the sober Gamzee controversy. This came about a while before coffeegate, but the effect the inciting update had on Homestucks is comparable to a haunting. It was fucking chernobyl, and a bad day to be a nuclear scientist because now it was your problem. Vriska fans - equally insufferable, as we all were by some respect[1] - and Gamzee fans fought with each other VEHEMENTLY, just to see whos gang was better. Keep that in the background of your mind as the theme music to what's playing. Everyone was anxiously wondering what had happened to Gamzee, because for the last several some-odd panels, we'd lost the boy. He was full of murderous intent, we were down to precious few characters on the meteor left, and we'd lost the boy.

So here we are. It's 2011. We're standing now at the end of the world, we've lost the boy for several panels, and finally the plot is trying to move along. We're all tired, and irritated, and divorced, doing this song and dance one more time but god willing the LAST TIME, when a joke about the look of shitty potted coffee gets made.

And some harbinger of the fucking apocalypse takes to tumblr dot com, drafting up a post about how Gamzee - living in the meteor walls - is putting troll blood into the coffee. Because, otherwise, how is Kanaya as a rainbow drinker doing so fine? Dave called the taste metallic, like blood. Something something long forgotten theories about trolls blood here something something. People would chime in to say "that's just how coffee looks", somehow it dissolved into actual discourse of people violently discussing back and forth how it could ONLY BE BLOOD, because coffee drawn in a prior panel UPDATES AGO didn't have the film on top, only now AFTER SOBER GAMZEE. Etcetera. It was just the worst case of reading too hard into something that you done ever did see.

Shortly following this, many people who were already growing exhausted with Homestuck's narrative direction at this point decided to take this coffee theory as their sign the flood was coming and to board the ark or learn how to swim. Anyone who learned to swim subsequently left during the exodus of 2015.

Again, my memory is pretty hazy. Thanks to Requiem Cafe, surprisingly difficult to google these days. Certainly another old still following me will have something more to add that I'm forgetting, as your handy dandy unreliable narrator.

[1] Said the Eridan fan.

#bana stop talking #homestuck #doddleys #i shouldnt tag this as good omens but theres an evil part of me that wants to

[jarpadswalker]

Part II

I am back to answer the rest of the two questions related to Jensen and the prequel gate...

About my views on Jensen... Early on, especially when I started following con panels and attended two myself. I became Jared girl, Jensen, for me, was an accessory. He was just like any actor, nothing special. When I met him, I knew instantly that though it is an informal event, it is all business for him. Now, it wouldn't have meant much because I am used to actors' behavior, but for me, the behavior stood out coz I had just met Jared, who was the big ball of energy. So meeting Jensen immediately after Jared was like someone sucked the energy out. This is exactly why, for the next day, I kept Jared at the last because I wanted to end my day with the positivity.

So I didn't mind Jensen as he didn't come across as rude or insulting like Misha, nor was he amiable like Jared. He was just like any actor.

For me, the first red flag came during AKF and YANA debacle, which is when I realised that Jensen is not how he appears to be. He is very calculative and shrewd. He supported YANA despite knowing it was a blatant copy for AKF. Still, I said fine you launch YANA. There is no copyright on supporting MH more the support better it is. BUt, Misha and Jensen were totally insincere with the campaign. They didn't take efforts to understand the gravity of the situation nor gave any thoughts on how the campaign was being presented. It was clear that YANA was nothing but a money minting project for M, Jensen, and CW. The worst was when the campaign failed, Jensen bailed, leaving Misha alone to take the fall. He didn't have balls to stand up for the project that was supposedly important to him. The moment it failed, he went. Nope, I wasn't interested in it, I just did it to help M. Everything was M's idea.

Since then, I started doubting Jensen intentions and didn't believe a word he said. I realise that he is opportunist. The moment he sees profit into something, he latches to it. Not only that, but even in terms of putting effort, he does the bare minimum, but when it comes to appreciation, he is first to take credit.

My doubts were confirmed with Prequelgate. At first, the sheer unprofessionalism was appalling, but I thought there might be some miscalculation. He won't stan Jared immediately after the end of the show. But that illusion broke when Kripke tweeted, apologizing Jared and stating that he assumed Jensen must have informed Jared. It proved that whatever Jensen did was intentional. He always wanted to own the SPN brand. I think somewhere it always hurt Jensen that despite being senior in the craft, it was Jared, a conparatively young actor who got the lead. Jared was always in the forefront when it came to media attention. If you have time, then just compare the kind of media that gave coverage to Jared and Jensen and the amount of time they do it, at least during SPN. Jared, with his extrovert attitude, is mainstream media fave. So I feel it was deliberate. He was to slyly make the brand for himself, and he knew he would lose Jared's fan if he told the truth. So he lied about Jared. When he was called out, like a coward, he once again ran and hid.

What is the worst was the MR podcast that showed the world hus true face. Instead of apologizing, he tried to shift the blame on Jared. Which was the dick move and then his constant lying and changing the reason as to why he didn't inform Jared. It was when I lost all the respect for him. In fact, according to me, at that point, he seemed worse than Musha. With Misha, we knew what to expect, but Jensen pretended to be a friend/brother and then backstabbed the said brother. Such people are the worst.

Post prequelgate, Jensen behavior came to light. Things that were ignored becoz his association with Jared came to like. It became quiet telling how Jensen never supported Jared. How he never asked his fans not to hate on Jared PS, immediately after prequelgat Jared actually asked fans not to hate Jensen. Jensen never extended the same courtesy. In fact, he piled on to the hate by making sparky comments. He would always diss Jared. How he never took ant effort to make Jared feel special, not even during his birthday. How he always used Jared and then dissed him from everything . How he would steal Jared's jokes and ideas and pass it as his own.

Infact, now when I look back I feel Jensen always tried to one up Jared. See, everything that he has done it is immediately after Jared. Jared shifted to Austin and bought a house with open field and stuff, Jensen immediately shifted to Austin and bought the house at the lake front. Jared entered pub business with San Jac salon and curated an alcohol with Stephen, Jensen started FBBC. PS: Jensen had zero idea about beer , nor did he bother to learn about it. Unlike Jared, who studied the entire market. Gen started her influencer journey, Dannel tried to copy it and, when she failed, resorted to dissing Gen like a child. Jared and Gen got into production, and so did Jensen and D. He has always copied Jared. Even now, Jensen is trying to copy Jared's long hair look. Over the year, he has seen how Jared long hair look has been appreciated, so he is now trying to copy it. He couldn't do it earlier because producers and directors didn't allow him to. Now we know why they did, Jensen looks like cheap motel pimp.

#anti jensen #jensen hate #anti aas #anti hellers #anti spn prequel #anti jared padalecki hate #anti jared hate

[jinwoosungs]

{ 018 }

- boyfriend headcanons with sung jinwoo -

notes: i have a little bit of a writer's block, so have some headcanons + drabbles with the man that has completely stolen my heart ♡ unedited because i am just dumping my thoughts into this little story.

having sung jinwoo as your boyfriend was nothing short of being a dream come true. in fact, the moment he confessed to you, you swore that you were living in a fantasy world...

"what...?"

your gaze was honed in on the tall, s-rank hunter. in his hand was a bouquet of your favorite flowers (just how did he even know?) and you could feel your heart pounding in response to the mere sight of him.

he gently calls out your name, still gingerly holding on to your bouquet with a sheepish expression, casually running his hands through his hair.

"uhm, you heard me correctly, i want to go on a date with you... i want to call you mine."

were you being pranked right now?

or were you caught up in a dream? your fantasies come straight to life with sung jinwoo actually confessing to you?

feeling nervous and filled with uncertainty, you look behind you to see if there was anyone else.

did he mean to say this to hunter cha hae-in?

as you were left gaping like a fish with the sheer amount of times your mouth opened and closed in response to his confession, jinwoo finally decided to take matters into his own hands as he comes closer to you.

you were suddenly forced to hold on to the bouquet as jinwoo leans down, grey eyes shining with mirth and adoration for you. he caresses at your cheek before whispering to you, "hm, it seems like you don't believe me. i suppose actions do speak louder than words after all."

"wait-"

you were given little time to react when jinwoo presses his lips against yours in a kiss, making you melt against him. the moment he feels you kissing him back was the moment jinwoo smiles against your lips, further setting your heart aflame with love and devotion for him.

he checked off every trait you had wished for in a boyfriend: extremely attentive to you and your emotions; had such a deep, unconditional love for you that it bordered on the cusp of worship- jinwoo was your ideal soulmate in every sense of the word.

"oh my god, i did not think you would be such a dork."

you had been dating jinwoo for merely 3 months now, yet he was such an adorable dweeb that he ended up celebrating each month with you.

for the first two months, he had given you a special bouquet and two gifts that he knew you would love:

for the first month, a gorgeously crafted diary complete with a lock and key;

for the second month, a cute dress made of the finest fabrics as you wore it to dinner that night with him.

and now for your third month together, jinwoo had struck yet again.

his grey eyes were shining once more, giving you his usual, extravagant bouquet, but this time, it was accompanied by a slender gift box wrapped in gold while tied up in an onyx ribbon.

your eyes meet with his in a questioning glance, seeing a small pink blush dye his cheeks.

"sarang, don't be shy... open it."

setting your bouquet off to the side, your hands were slightly shaking when you tore into the wrapping, revealing a long and slender velvet box. once you had opened it, you felt a gasp escape from your parted lips.

"oh, jinwoo... it's so beautiful!"

within the confines of the velvet box was a gorgeously crafted bracelet made up of your favorite gemstones. you watch as the gems catch the light, capturing rainbows from within it. jinwoo admires your awed expression for a few seconds before letting out a chuckle, taking out the bracelet as he sets the box off to the side.

"here, let me help you put it on."

he grabs your right wrist and clasps the bracelet onto it, giving you a loving smile before taking a hold of your hand. as his large hand envelopes yours, you felt your breath hitch the moment he leans in closer to press a kiss against your knuckle.

"it is indeed beautiful. a perfect fit, really."

feeling overwhelmed with love for him, you end up wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you captured his lips within yours in a searing kiss.

also, you don't even have to worry about getting sick or suffering through that time of the month! jinwoo has already got you covered; ever since you moved into an apartment with him, he has been the most doting malewife boyfriend ever!

you were curled up in bed, clinging to your favorite plushie in a tight manner when a fresh wave of cramps hit you. never before had your monthly period become this bad; it felt as though your body was in a constant state of distress, clenching your abdomen as it brought you new waves of pain.

jinwoo had texted you earlier today, asking you if you wanted to go out on a date after his meeting, but you politely declined. you admitted in your text how your body was just not well enough to do any sort of activity-

but when your boyfriend left you on read, you felt a newfound sensation of anxiety coursing through you.

why didn't he answer back with an 'okay' or 'i understand, honey' like he usually does? was he mad at you for being rendered immobile because of your immense cramps?

should you try to tough it out and agree to go on a date with him anyways?

should you text him back and tell him that you changed your mind?

and were you really getting anxious at being left on read by him (yes, you were getting anxious).

just as you were close to forcing yourself out of bed, you hear jinwoo returning home as his heavy footsteps were heard walking through the hallways.

his sudden appearance within your doorway makes you jump back in bed, seeing his flushed expression as he carried several bags within his hand.

"hey sarang, here, i bought you all of your favorite snacks and a heating pad, too. when jinah had her first period, i panicked and didn't know what to do when she kept crying because she was in so much pain."

jinwoo settles the bags of snacks off to the side while gently lifting up your shirt. he takes a heating pad and carefully applies it to your abdomen. "so i'm proud to say, taking care of my sister has helped prepare me for moments like these."

a proud smile graces his handsome features when he pulls down your shirt once more, "now, i know i can take care of my woman with ease."

he turns away and was about to get you your favorite ice cream when you stop him, throwing your arms around his neck while pulling him closer to you. tears of happiness fill your vision as you thanked him over and over again for his kindness-

for his willingness to always take care of you.

jinwoo was caught off guard by your words, but ends up smiling down at you, wrapping his arms around your back as he brought you even closer to him.

"don't even worry about it, honey." his lips were pressed against your hair, "i am your lover, so it's my job to keep you safe and happy."

now you might be wondering, does jinwoo ever place any of his shadow soldiers into your shadow? the answer is an absolute YES. whenever jinwoo had to travel to faraway places, he would only keep his strongest soldiers close to your side, placing his entire trust within those who were the most loyal to him.

"my queen, where is it that you would like to go?"

"ah, are you bored? shall we accompany you to a movie of your choosing?"

you giggle while spending some time in the city with beru and igris talking your ear off. they were always so eager to follow you, growing a deep fondness for you solely because their king loved you so much. in fact, they took great pride in being consistently chosen to protect you when jinwoo was away.

you smile back at them, ready to reply when you felt someone bump into you. letting out a sharp hiss of pain, you look up to see a rather rude looking business man run into you.

"oi, watch where you're going!"

"excuse me? you were the one who bumped into me!" your nostrils were flared as you stood your ground, not letting the rude man treat you like a pushover.

"oh, so she has an attitude? do you know who i am?! i am-"

yet the words die against his throat when beru and igris reveal themselves out of your shadow, taking a protective stance in front of you as they were ready to defend you at any cost.

"oh, would you l-l-look at the time, i am late for my m-meeting. if you'll excuse me m-m-miss." the businessman ends up stiffly walking away from you, leaving you alone with jinwoo's most trusted shadow soldiers.

with a sigh, you brush back your hair. "did jinwoo see any of that?"

"yes, he did. he is taking the next flight back to seoul as we speak." igris tells you with a smug expression, making you let out a groan in response.

"please! convince him to stay in america! he has very important matters to discuss with the u.s. association branch!"

"our king says that he does not care. you had been disrespected, so he is on his way home now. he has rescheduled such a meeting in order to comfort you, my queen."

feeling the heat become stronger against your cheeks, you were left hiding your face within your hands, feeling exasperated at your overprotective boyfriend-

but truth be told, you still loved him all the same.

truly, you could never imagine a life without jinwoo. he fit you so well, like a perfect puzzle piece. jinwoo being by your side made you feel complete - and you wouldn't want it to be any other way.

while you slept peacefully in bed, jinwoo continues to admire you, looking down at you with his eyes filled with love and devotion for you alone.

he takes a moment to admire your beauty. even when your hair was a mess and there was a thin trail of drool seen from the corner of your mouth-

you were still the loveliest woman he had fallen madly in love with.

not a single day passes where he doesn't think about you.

"heh, i guess i'm completely obsessed with you after all."

he smiles down at you, whispering to your sleeping form when he leans in closer to press a kiss against your cheek.

"i'm gonna need to make you mine soon... or else i'll go completely insane if another man tries to flirt with you and take you away from me."

with one last whisper of your name, he gives your cheek a lingering kiss all while smiling against your skin, whispering to you about his promises of forever while giving you a ring first thing in the morning.

a.n. - i love jinwoo so much,,,, sobbing because he's not real... 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #sung jinwoo headcanons #jinwoo sung headcanons #solo leveling x reader #.stories

[amethystina]

"Han fattas mig."

One of the compliments I often get on my writing is just that — my writing. My word choices, my sentence structure, my imagery, my rhythm, my originality, etc. Now, I never thought I'd reach a point where I’d become that good at the craft itself, especially not in a language that's not even my native tongue. Partly because of imposter syndrome but also because I'm usually such a perfectionist that I never thought I’d dare to write something that doesn't strictly and stiltedly follow the rules.

Sentence fragments? Words used in unusual contexts? Odd or highly specific imagery? No can do!

Except, clearly, I can. I should, even.

And I want to share one of the monumental pieces of writing that made me realise that. And it’s not even a whole work. It's just one sentence, really:

"Han fattas mig."

Now, that probably looks a bit weird to those of you who don't understand Swedish, so let me explain.

That's a quote from the children's book Ronja the Robber's Daughter written by the famous Swedish author Astrid Lindgren. It was published back in 1981 and while I didn't actually read the book as a kid, I DID watch the Swedish live-action movie many times. But, even then, it took until my adult years to fully grasp the utter and heart-breaking brilliance of that quote.

For some context, the book/movie is about Ronja who, surprise surprise, is the young daughter of a robber chief. That quote is said by her father, Mattis, when one of the old robbers of their clan suddenly dies. Now, this old robber, Skalle-Per (uh... I guess the translation would be Bald Pete?), is clearly a father figure for Mattis. A wise old man who, while gloriously snarky, is also incredibly nurturing and emotionally mature. Which stands in stark contrast to Mattis who is the somewhat traditionally dominant, macho man. He HAS to be, on account of being the chief for a clan of rough and tough robbers. They, in many ways, complete each other, where Skalle-Per is kind, thoughtful, and sensible while Mattis is brash, violent, and impulsive.

Now, predictably, when Skalle-Per dies, Mattis throws a full-on tantrum. The kind that shows just how inexperienced he is with dealing with emotions without Skalle-Per to help him work through them. And, since the whole problem is that Skalle-Per is now dead? Mattis has absolutely no idea what to do.

He starts pacing back and forth, crying, flailing his arms, and yelling things like: "He's always been here! He's always existed, and now he doesn't!" And no amount of calming words from his wife soothes him and, eventually, he says that line:

"Han fattas mig."

And there is no direct translation I can give you that fully conveys the amount of raw, almost childlike, grief in that one sentence. This sentence was the one that made me realise that following the rules doesn't matter because, strictly speaking, this one doesn't. The words used are unusual to the point where they're even a little odd at first glance but, once you look deeper, also so incredibly impactful.

The rough translation would probably be "I miss him" but, as said, that doesn't convey the sheer desperation that those words do in Swedish. First of all, it throws the words around, completely changing the focus and weight of the sentence. "Han" is "he" and "mig" is "I." So saying "I miss him" reverses the order where the emphasis SHOULD be put on "him" but the main subject of the sentence now becomes "I" (i.e. less about the loss and more about how "I" am feeling). In “Han fattas mig” the “he” is the most important part.

Second, you have the word "fattas" which, yes, directly translated means "missing." But not the kind of missing that we Swedes normally use for grief. We have another word for that called "saknar." If you miss someone who has died, you'd say: "Jag saknar honom." Which is basically the same as the English “I miss him.” The word "fattas" is for a completely different context — a much more mundane one, with almost no emotional stakes. It's what we use when a piece is missing or something is lacking a required component. Kind of like you would say: "This stew is missing something" when it doesn't taste the way you want it to. But it can also mean "lost" as in "there's one puzzle piece missing."

So when Mattis says those words, he doesn't say "I miss him." He's saying: "He is a part of me and he is now missing," and "he is a part of me and I lost him," and "he is a part of me and now there is a hole where he used to be."

He is saying: "I will never be complete again."

Because "fattas" is also the word we use when something is missing and the thing won't be complete until you add it/return it/get it back. And, in this case, since the man in question is dead, you know Mattis will never get that chance. He will never be whole again. Which, sure, is a rather terrifying take on grief, but also not an untrue one. Grief will lessen over time, but the loss will still be there.

And this isn't me doing some sort of complex linguistic analysis — I don't have to. Because it's all there. It's so simple yet so effective. And yet, somehow, no one had really thought to use the word "fattas" to describe grief before. Because it's just a simple and mundane word we use for entirely different things, not big, painful emotions, right? Except Astrid Lindgren did. And while she no doubt did so to make it easier for children to grasp the concept — since most kids can relate to the feeling of losing something in the context of "fattas," which is much more direct and real than the elusive emotion of "saknar" — it also changes how an adult can view grief and loss.

Not even "I lost him" can fully encompass the absolute BRUTALITY of the grief found in the sentence "Han fattas mig."

And that is why I give fewer and fewer fucks about the rules. Now, obviously, I doubt I'll ever come up with something as brilliant as this sentence (it honestly rocks me to my core sometimes) BUT it's worth trying. It's worth being creative and experiment with the words you know and in what order you place them. Just maybe, you'll end up with something really cool. That's not to say you should ignore any and all rules, but it's okay to play around. It's okay to do the unexpected.

I think it's important to remember that. Writing is creative. We write to express things — to find ways to describe and explain complex emotions, grand adventures, and sweeping love stories. It connect us and gives us a way to share our experiences, thoughts, and feelings. And, sometimes, the set boundaries won't be enough. Sometimes, we might just need someone to look at how we describe grief and go: "I can make it simpler and, at the same time, so much more painful."

And it doesn't always have to be complex. It doesn't have to be difficult words and purple prose. Sometimes, all you need is three words so easy that a child can understand them and, somehow, you will describe a sense of loss so deep and so fundamental to that character that you KNOW that they will never be the same ever again.

So experiment. Be bold. And, above all else, have fun.

And, one final heart-wrenching fact to wrap this all up: The actor who played Skalle-Per — Allan Edwall — was in almost ALL of the movies/shows based on Astrid Lindgren's books. He played different roles, of course, but he was a staple — synonymous with her works. And, when the actor died back in 1997, Astrid Lindgren was asked how she was handling the loss and her reply was the same as Mattis’s:

"Han fattas mig."

#Amethystina Writes #I guess? #Linguistics #Or something #It just amazes me how words can be used to describe different things #And sometimes the words you least expect are the best ones #I just love that #And so I do weird shit with my writing xD #Just throw everything on the wall! #And see what sticks!

[saturnznct]

d-20; making christmas cards for members | lmk

➸ word count; 1023 words

➸ lucas; aged 10, noah; aged 8, maeve; aged 4

➸ alternative names used; hyungjun (lucas), minjun (noah), yeoreum (maeve)

dadmas masterlist | nct masterlist (lnks will be added later)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘Wow, Mae, you really captured Uncle Doyoung’s spirit there,’ Mark grins.

Maeve holds up her Christmas card for Doyoung proudly, showing off the rabbit with a Santa hat she’d drawn on the front with ‘Merry Christmas Doyoung Samchon’ written in messy toddler handwriting on the front.

‘Although, I think we need to work on your Hangul. You wrote Samchon in English..’

Maeve just looks sheepish, putting the card into the finished pile and grabbing another plain one to start.

This was a Lee household yearly tradition. The kids would sit down at the dining table, cover it with pens, glitter and whatever crafting materials they could get their hands on, and make cards for family and friends.

When it came to the sheer amount of NCT members, it was a full on operation. The members had been randomly assigned to each of your three children, who would make their cards. You and Mark would write the inside messages once they were finished and all the glue and or paint had dried. 

‘Wait, why does Maeve get Uncle Johnny?’ Noah whines once he notices Johnny’s name on Maeve’s list. 

‘It’s random, No,’ you explain, ‘it’s fair that way.’

‘But I wanted to make Uncle Johnny’s card,’ he pouts.

‘Buddy, the card will still be from you, and Uncle Johnny will know that,’ Mark rubs Noah’s back with his hand, ‘how about you make a really pretty card for Uncle Taeyong, huh? I bet he’d love a really glittery one!’

‘Daddy, can we come to work with you and give Uncles their cards?’ Noah asks, wanting to see his beloved Uncle’s reactions to his work. 

‘Of course, how about you and mummy/mommy drop me off tomorrow, and we can give them to Uncles then?’

‘Yay!’ Noah cheers, accidentally knocking over a pot of silver glitter.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘Uncle Ten!’ Maeve runs into the practice room, barrelling towards the first member she sees.

‘Mae!’ He exclaims with equal excitement, wrapping the small girl into a big hug.

‘Sorry to interrupt your practice, guys,’ you apologise, knowing that all of the members are gathered to rehearse for their end of year project. 

‘It’s all good,’ Jungwoo, the closest person to you grins, ‘it’s nice to have a break.’

He catches Maeve’s eye, his face suddenly lighting up, immediately dropping to his knees to offer a hug, ‘and to see my Yeoreum!’

‘Ah, Minjun-ah,’ Jaemin squats down to greet Noah, ‘what’s that you’ve got?’

Noah holds out the envelope with both hands, a messy ’Nana’ scrawled across the front. 

‘Ah, thank you,’ Jaemin always saves his aegyo for his favourite nephews and niece, his Mark’s children.

‘This one’s for you, Uncle Yangyang,’ Maeve hands Yangyang his card.

‘Wow, thank you MaeMae, you’re so kind,’ Yangyang, who has crouched down to her level, peels the envelope open, laughing when he sees the sheep with the Christmas hat drawn on it.

‘I like how the sheep is pink and glittery,’ he adds, pulling her into a hug, ‘I love it, thank you Mae.’ 

The members fuss over the kids, each giving very exaggerated but genuine reactions to their individual cards.

‘Ah, Hyungjun-ah, thank you,’ Chenle fist bumps Lucas, ‘you write in Chinese so well.’

‘It’s from the lessons you gave me,’ Mark chimes in teasingly, and the two men laugh as Lucas huffs.

‘Yeoreum-ie, your art is so good!’ Yuta fusses over Maeve, who blushes and squirms at his compliment over her drawing of him next to a Christmas Tree.

‘Don’t get all embarrassed!’ he teases, poking her side, before turning to Sicheng who’s standing beside him and commenting, ’so cute.’

When Lucas notices Johnny holding his own card, he walks over to talk to his favourite Uncle.

’Tell Jude-hyung that I’ll give him his card the next time I see him,’ Lucas tells Johnny, ‘I don’t want him to think I’ve forgotten about him when you bring that one home.’

‘Will do buddy, I’m sure you’ll see him when the school holidays start.’

‘Are you guys not going to Chicago?’ Lucas tilts his head in confusion.

‘Not ’til the twentieth,’ Johnny explains, ‘you guys should arrange to hang out. In real life, not just on the Xbox or whatever it is.’

Lucas just shrugs, embarrassed at being called out, and Johnny chuckles.

‘I’m just messing with you, go on, go give Uncle Seunghan his card.’

‘They’re so sweet, Hyung,’ Jisung remarks, watching the scene alongside Mark, ‘so crazy I’ll have one of my own in a few months.’

’They’re a handful,’ Mark shakes his head, still smiling, ‘but I love them more than anything.’

At that moment, Noah runs up to Jisung, clutching Jisung’s own card. 

In a corner, several members are gathered comparing cards, Doyoung throughly enjoying Maeve’s rabbit drawing while Xiaojun praises Noah’s reindeer.

‘Thank you, Noah, I’ll keep it forever,’ Taeyong reads the message inside of his card, on which Noah has drawn a polar bear wearing a lime green (’NCT colour!’) scarf.

‘Will you really?’ Noah gasps, shocked that his Uncle would treasure his creation for so long.

‘Of course, because my Minjun-ie made it for me!’

Eventually, all of the cards are distributed, and the three Lee children sit against the mirror and watch as the members go through their dance performance for the year. 

‘What did you think, Mae?’ Hendery bends down to ask, face showing a picture of pure joy when she begins bouncing on her feet and enthusiastically chatting about what she likes about the song and the choreography.

‘Come on kids, say goodbye to your Uncles. We’ll get out of your hair now, leave you to practice,’ you start gathering up your things, leaving the three of your children to say goodbye to all of the members.

’See you when you get home,’ you give Mark a quick hug, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek as to allow him to avoid unnecessary teasing from his members. 

‘Bye bye little Lees,’ Ten and the rest of the members wave you all out of the room.

‘Now, kids,’ you announce once you’re fully in the corridor, ‘let’s go and harass Uncle Minseok.’ 

#dad!mark #dadmas #dad!mark lee #mark lee dad au #dad!nct #nct dad au #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagine #mark lee reader insert #mark lee au #mark lee blurbs #mark lee fluff #mark lee fic #mark lee fanfic #mark lee x y/n #mark lee timestamp #mark lee soft hours #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader #superm x reader #nct dream fluff #mark lee #lucas lee #noah lee #maeve lee

[kiatheinsomniac]

— ꒰‧⁺ ☾ 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄 ˀ ☁️ *ೃ༄

──── 𝐌𝐘 𝐉𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐋, 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: buck moon jul. 2023 winner: @one7hell7of7a7simp who asked for some possessiveness hehe 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Fëanor x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: possessive behaviour, marking (?), Fëanor thinking Fingolfin only exists to ruin his life lol

When Fëanor looks over you in your flowing dress, made of layer upon layer of soft, sheer oranges with a faint autumn leaf pattern around the skirt’s hem that subtly shows in the light like a mirage. He cannot help but smile and yet grimace at once. You look stunning. You take his breath away all the time and he sees you in the jewels he cuts, the ones he creates. He sees the curve of your cheek in the necklaces he makes, the sparkle in your eye in the earrings he crafts. 

But it’s also a problem. You look almost too good and the last thing he wants is his brothers drooling over you, especially Fingolfin. He approaches you from behind. You’re sitting upon a stool in front of a vanity, applying a little bit of tint to your lips and cheeks. Fëanor sets down the box he holds in his hands upon the table as he takes your soft hair into his hands. 

Without a word, he leans over you to pluck up your hairbrush from where it lays on the table in front of you. In his peripheral vision, he catches your eyes glancing up to his own grey ones in the mirror but his gaze is fixed upon where he’s pulling the brush gently through your hair. 

“What’s this, my love?” You ask as you peer at the box he’s set down beside you. It’s a deep red colour with a white velvet ribbon wrapped around it in order to keep it closed. 

“A gift for my beloved.” He answers simply, still tenderly brushing your hair. He leans down to press a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. You’ve perfumed your hair for the important event of meeting his family. You smell like lily of the valley and he takes a moment to just nuzzle his nose against the top of his head while one of his hands cups your cheek from behind. You’re so wonderful, the elleth that possesses his heart and he’ll be damned before he stands by while his brother falls for you and tries to take you away from him. 

Fëanor sets the brush down for a moment as his hands cradle your face beneath your jaw in order to tilt your head back so that you look up to meet his eyes, each of you appearing upside down to the other. He leans down once more to paint a trail of kisses across your face, starting from your forehead and then travelling in a straight line to your brow, your nose, passing over your mouth to your chin and then finally kissing your lips. It’s slow, soft and sweet. Each of his kisses is warm and tender like the simmering embers of his furnace when he is finished crafting for the day. 

“Open it, my love.” He takes the box back into his hands and sets it carefully in his lap. His arms drape over your shoulders as he leans down over you, his cheek pressed to yours. He watches on with a silent excitement within him while your fingers pluck up the end of the velvet ribbon and then pull, undoing the knot. You slip your hands beneath the white material in order to slide it off the box and then you slowly lift the lid. You want to savour this surprise, especially when considering the effort he must have put into it. 

You suck in a quiet, gasped breath. 

Inside is a set of glittering jewellery and, with this being your husband, he has not stopped at just earrings and a necklace, no. Inside, crafted from gold and set with larger red gems and smaller white ones, is a set of earrings, a necklace, rings, a bracelet and an anklet. 

“Oh, Fëanáro…” You breathe out in a whisper as you take up the largest piece – the necklace – in hand. The details on the gold are never ending, like the intricate branches of trees criss-crossing one another, overlapped by stem and leaf. Fëanor had abandoned no detail of them, adding a subtle amount of texturing and even working veins into the leaves. 

They weave around smaller white gems that reflect little rainbows and larger red ones that glimmer against the gold. Each piece is polished to perfection and is cut with such attention and symmetry that it’s without flaw at all. Even the chain that clasps around the back of your neck resembles the same leaf-like structure. The bracelet and anklet are styles similarly but are much more simplistic whereas the necklace cascades over your collar.

The rings are no less lavish, some more simple whereas others have larger, statement stones. They all follow the same theme as your dress and the necklace your husband has crafted to match it. Some are bare branches while others are crafted from golden branches or are made to resemble a leafy crown. The earrings are the most different though as it is the gems that are shaped like leaves – cut so thin, you wonder how many Fëanor might have broken before he got them right though you doubt the number is too high as he is the best in his profession – and they dangle from golden chains to make an effect like they are falling from the little branch cuff that crawls up the curve of your ear. 

“I’m speechless, they’re wonderful.” You say softly, truly at a loss for words as he takes the necklace and clasps it around your neck. Mine. Then he does the same with the bracelet. Mine. The rings. Mine, mine, mine. The earrings. Mine, mine. And at last he kneels in front of you and his hands glide to the back of your calf, gliding his hands over the curve of your soft leg as he sets your foot in his lap so that he can fasten the anklet around you. Mine. 

He looks up at you as his fingers gently caress your leg. You’re adorned now in jewels and precious metals that he moulded with you in mind. His craftsmanship is all over you and he hopes that it will serve as message enough that you are off limits. You’ve stolen his heart now. You have a piece of him and he will protect you and his heart in your hands for as long as he breathes air into his lungs. 

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not : ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@clumsycopy @edensrose @augustwithquills @involuntaryspasms @eunoiaastralwings  @spidergirla5   @wandererindreams @singleteapot @noldorinpainter @asianbutnotjapanese @yourfamilyfriendsatan @firagirl @aeonianarchives @batsyforyou

#— ꒰‧⁺ ☾ lunar raffle ˀ ☁️ *ೃ༄ #i know i advertised this as strawberry moon but i messed up it's actually the buck moon lol #oops #fëanor #fëanor x reader #the silm #silm #the silmarillion #the silmarillion x reader #curufinwë #curufinwë x reader

[yimai]

Protection x A Deal

MOREL X FEM!READER

inspired by touchstarved morel! a fic by hypnoswrites, if u wanna check it out its on their masterlist. im writing according to their morel kinda

word count 2.6k

warnings: violence, nsfw, yandere, reader gets hurt

"He was. Asleep??"

You thought, staring at the lazy smile on his face.

You had only noticed after a bit- when he started snoring.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t take it as a compliment to your work. With the harshness of whiskey in his breath- you found yourself thinking that he’d probably be completely out of it by now, even without a massage.

Did you need to… Haul him out of the massage house by the end of your session?

You paused.

He seemed like he could handle his liquor. He didn’t even look drunk when he came in.

Maybe he’s not as affected by the booze as you think he is?

You continued with his massage.

Working his neck muscles, you found yourself leaning over him, putting your weight in your thumb. The only thing on your mind was how his breath tinged of whiskey, a strong, sharp musk that overtook even his generous lather of lavender body oil.

Soon you had to wake him up- he came to you regarding back pain, after all. After the customary neck and head massage, a few small taps on his shoulder woke him with a start. When asked turn over onto his back, he complied, eager with a sheepish grin.

You had ended up asking him more times than you’d like to admit, how he felt towards the amount of pressure you were working on him with- it was ridiculously hard to tell if you were doing too much or too little, especially with a drunk client. Though, you were moreso worried over potentially overestimating the sheer bulk of him. With your experience, you deemed it unlikely, but not impossible. You never got clients of such frame, after all.

It didn’t take you long to work down to the back of his legs. You replaced the steamed towels at his feet with new ones- it was easy to feel cold after a massage. Having skin coated with a thin layer of oil, a small breeze could easily bring a client to shiver. The steamed towels, one at his feet, the other at his neck, worked to feed the body heat and in turn relaxation.

Upon putting aside the used towel, you had asked him to turn back over.

A quiet, meek shock splayed itself across your face.

“Oh, I’m sorry,”

“I— I’ll get you another towel!”

Clients getting erections were a common occurence. Massages work to increase blood flow to the muscles, and nerves through the hips were known to be sensitive.

This, however, was not. You doubt it had ever happened in your entire life.

You picked up a towel from the connected walk-in bathroom in the massage studio, and laid it across his crotch.

He couldn’t help the chuckle that left him- you looked so flustered and confused.

His one towel hadn’t been enough. Two seemed to do the trick.

——-

He came as often as he could before the trip was to end, even up until his last day on the cruise.

Here because of a job, he was working with a rich snob- the cruise trip, all expenses covered, was included. The only reason he took the job was that he felt his team deserved a nice break- plus, he’d be out at sea- drinking and having fun. Sure, he still had a job to do, but that was only after the cruise was to port.

You had soft, gentle hands. A tenderness shaped by years of working with body oil, alongside a certain patience that came from both your craft and yourself.

Touch delicate and eager- determined in aiding, in support.

You reminded him of himself.

Support was something he prided himself on, in battle. His role was to assist the strong. Though only because he had the capabilities, the means of handling enemy attention and defending himself. Known amongst his colleagues as a strong unit; a tank.

Where was your shield? He was his.

Wasn’t it… dangerous? For you to help others while still technically in need?

Who was to defend you? Reliable support relied on strong defense.

What if he was to…

What if he was someone else?

What if that day, it was some other drunk,

...

He had taken note of how only two staff manned the spa house. You and another masseuse, who seemed to always clock out early.

——-

He made sure your slots were open for him. Sometimes you were booked, and that was okay. Wanting to come by every afternoon during the trip, he made quick work of kindly telling your clients to fuck off. It was relatively easy, your regular clients having been the manpower of the ship- they were ex-convicts, after all. Nothing to feel bad about.

With his last day on the cruise, he had you booked at your last shift for a neck massage.

Peeking at the clock, he took a mental note. 30 minutes left.

Should be enough.

“Hey, can you massage my hand?”

I’ll protect her. She just needs to do one thing,

After time, you two had actually grown quite familiar with each other. As he frequented your spa house, he’d start some small talk with you from time to time. On board, he's known to be quite the chatterbox- often striking conversation with the cruise staff, something you even heard about from friends in other departments.

——-

Of course you agreed.

It was an innocent request, you never really worked on the hand much despite it actually being your favorite massage point. In the hotel spa packages it wasn’t included. You had told him this cheerfully, and a gentle smile pulled at his lips.

He couldn’t get it off his mind.

“Hey, just curious- your partner leaves 30 minutes early?” “Yeah,” “Y’know how there’s no cameras here for client privacy, since they change in this room?” “Yeah?” “If a client were to keep you here, or rather, if something happened to you, would anybody notice? Anybody at all?

Would anybody come to help?”

Your replies had been small and brisk, your attention and concentration occupied by the work at hand. His last question you didn’t know how to respond to.

After a good five minutes, he spoke again,

“Hey, will you go out with me?”

…..

“Excuse me?”

“Go out with me. I’ll be your shield.”

He’s only amused by your loyalty, faith and commitment when you reject him.

“I have a. Boyfriend,”

“Break up with him,” The words tumbled from his lips, freely, as easy as water from a fountain.

You couldn’t even respond before you found yourself pinned against one of the studio walls.

“You can lend me your way,”

Your way. Your path to walk down won’t be yours for a bit, it will be his. He was to lead and guide you.

…

He was to govern you.

He wanted to dictate your life.

“Can you fight this?”

He said, breath at the crook of your neck. A hand propped at his, cupping at the back of his neck as he smeared some oil onto his palm.

——-

“Sir, please-“ ‘you’re hurting me,’

The words couldn’t leave you. He seemed set on teaching you a lesson.

Teaching you of your own weakness, highlighting your vulnerability, lack of power and frailty through pitting your strength against his.

You pushed against his grip to no avail- crushing and firm on your wrist.

“Rumor has it that Diego’s got his eye on you.”

You had froze up. He continued,

“I work for him, got to know his history. Something tells me you know the same,”

You had flinched harder- his oiled fingers bore into the small of your back, he sighed, “Spoiled brat. Day after day inviting some bar hostess into his room and so far I haven’t seen a single one come out,”

“Knocks up his staff and fires them when they get pregnant. Not to scare you, but..”

Her gaze fell to the floor.

He wasn’t lying.

It wasn’t foreign knowledge, all the women working for him knew of his… certain habits. You had been working under him a good few years now, and have seen many come and go.

Most notably your sister.

Not many knew, but there used to be three masseuse at the massage house.

You had witnessed first-hand the greed and cruelty of that man as you held your sister in your arms, crying as if she was never to do anything else.

It hurt to know he wasn’t lying. That he was just telling you because he wanted you to know, because he was looking out for you. Because he was concerned for you.

“Y’know.. I can cook and clean and all that. You won’t have another worry for as long as you live,”

He was really trying to reason through this. He wanted understanding and had hope.

You were about to speak up, before his hand clamped down on your mouth- he pressed himself into you, fixing you firm against the wall.

A ringing could be heard from the entrance bell.

“Your coworker must’ve left something, huh?”

He jut his knee out, dug in between your legs- grinding you on it. Now standing with one hand on your mouth, the other planted on the wall- he braced himself against the wall with both his elbows.

“Things are only gonna get worse for you… I don’t wanna do this either, but can’t you see what people can do to you? You’re too easy of a target,

I’ll help you. I’ll protect you, on one condition.

So tell me, can you fight this?” His voice was low and breathy at her ear.

Because outside noise can be a distraction in a massage room, the studio was soundproofed.

——-

You knew you should've been happy.

She meant a chance of escape. Maybe.

During off breaks you’d spend time in each other’s studio, it was established that whoever free first was to wait at the other’s door until their client has left.

If she had left something in here..

She could get help.

If she had left something in her own studio, you could bang on the wall- her studio was beside yours, after all. She was bound to hear it.

You stood with bated breath, and prayed she didn’t leave something at the front desk.

But even so, you weren’t sure what to think.

An overwhelming sense of shame had washed over you at the mere idea- of her seeing you like this.

Cheeks flushed, squirming and stifling breaths.

It was embarrassing, you just wanted to get out of this situation yourself. Without any help,

Without his help.

He’s made it clear it wasn’t possible.

Its clear there was no reasoning with him- not getting with him was as good as suicide. Apparently.

“Can you fight a broken finger? That’s the least they’ll do to you,” Crack.

“Will you really be fine all on your own? You’re no warrior,

Not even funny what they’ll do to you. Some ex-convicts on this ship, y’know.”

Small sobs fell on deaf ears. “I can be your shield.”

——-

He actually hadn’t been drinking, today.

He knew he had to stay sober to be better aware of his strength. Things had to be controlled and careful when it came to you.

He had to show you. He had to let you know. The life you were choosing was suicide. You needed something, somewhere to run to, and he could ensure your success and safety.

“Don't make me do this,”

His actions, his willingness betrayed all remorse in his tone.

“Seriously?”

His thumb was brought to a neighbouring finger,

Crack.

“Are you not scared?”

It was done with practiced ease. Force, applying force, hurt. Nothing he did proved to shake him much.

He then buried himself in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t worry. Hairline fractures don’t even show up on xrays,”

Fingers then intertwined with yours,

“Worst case scenario for this type of crack in your finger is just a slow recovery.”

His deep voice hoarse with need.

——-

He wanted to litter you with kisses, head to toe. He knew it wasn’t the time- he couldn’t, he wouldn’t. He would only love you if you let him.

Right now, he was teaching you a lesson.

He tried repeating to himself-

But with your hands intertwined, your fearful shaking, he couldn’t help but hesitate. He faltered and paused midway, stopped himself for a moment and practically melted into you, your neck- breathing against your skin. Feeling your hands intertwined with his. His heartbeat was so loud, he wondered if you could hear it.

*I can’t do this,*

He wasn’t sure what he was even thinking. Was he hesitant about hurting you, or loving you? Did he falter at the idea of stopping, or was he thinking twice about continuing? He never did mind playing the bad cop. So why this, why now?

He then decided,

“Don’t stress about being out of a job. With money, you’ll have as much as you need.” He began,

“Im getting you out of here, whether you like it or not.” Voice low, breathy.

“I’ll go out with you,”

——-

He wanted a deal. It suddenly hit you,

It was all a deal. Your love and support for his protection.

A deal. If reason would work, you’d take it.

Crazy. This man wanted to negotiate love. A total stranger. He wanted to protect you, and broke two of your fingers.

It was humiliating. Things were bad enough for you as they were, and apparently a life with him was what he found to be a good trade-in for what you had now.

Not getting with him was as good as suicide? Getting with him was as good as suicide,

Voice cutting through the tension like ice, you continued,

“You want me?” You breathed, tentatively.

He nodded yes, speechless and gagged- still and unmoving, he remained at the crook of your neck.

“Can you do one more thing, then?

I wont be happy. I’d be miserable. Here, we’re miserable but together. We’re all we have,

If you want my love, you need to win it. My protection won’t win you any favor or value to me. My love can only be bought if you can save my sisters, I will forever hate you if you use your power to save me but not my loved ones.”

“You’re asking for a lot,” he murmured. “What you offered doesn't even mean anything in the first place,” you muttered- “Either this, or-“ “Leave it. Consider it done.”

“God, I love a selfless woman,” He hugged you, pressing small kisses at your neck, “Hunters have a big wallet and deep pockets. Whatever you want and more, I’ll make sure of it.”

The sound of your partner opening the door to their studio was just loud enough for you to hear, pressed up against the wall. You brought your hand, previously pressed firm unto the wall in pain, to rest against his- it fell weak and melted into his grasp, limp and tired from the abuse of two broken bones.

“Not gonna knock on the wall?”

Ah, so he knew.

“This is fine,” You murmured- the pain in your fingers now a dull ache.

“C-“ The words barely left his mouth- voice soft and small, he pressed himself into you, needy, “Can you kiss me?”

He had nestled his nose in your neck, as if hiding his face from you.

His heartbeat drummed itself unto your chest, as he unconsciously squeezed at your hand- the sharp pain shooting down your arm.

#n/sfw #yandere hxh #yandere hunterxhunter #morel x reader #non-con #morel mackernasy x reader