#I literally could not speak in certain situations even though I so badly wanted to

[clockmax]

- A TWISTED FANTASY

Pairing: Jake Sully x Fem!Navi!Reader

A/N: FINALLY AT A REST STOP WITH GOOD WIFI!! Going to Nevada for pretty much the entire summer and this road trip is literally killing me. rip to luna who had to wait so long for this (ily bb)

warnings: hate fucking, oral (M receiving) p in v, degrading and slight praise, dubcon, brief fingering, orgasm denial/edging, spanking, hate fucking, semi-public, marking, i think thats all.

REQUESTS OPEN

There were no words that could describe the situation between you and Jake. Absolutely none. 

It wasn’t just generally disliking each other; this was a different type of issue. You absolutely hated how that man was. Arrogant, selfish, how reckless he could be. But damn, this man was so fucking hot. You hated him, no, you despised him. Though there was no denying some of his actions could have you on the flipside. 

But nevermind that, he could never have you. There was just no way you’d give yourself to a man like him. Your mind and body could hate him, but there was no denying how god damn attractive he was. 

Every moment with him felt like hell. The way you both had to hold back your venom so as to not fight each other. The way you would huff and puff all because you were practically forced to spend time with him.

It was a blazing hell. You hated this man, and he hated you. But oh how he would get you worked up with all his teasing just to leave you alone, soaked in your pants. Jake was a cruel man, all because you two had some stupid childlike feud.

There was actually no beginning to why you both started hating each other, it just happened. When your parents let him into the clan, it just so happened that you both started disliking each other. Every time you were in a room with Jake, the tension in the air made it so thick it felt hard to breathe. Like you were going to suffocate on just the hatred alone.

And now here you were, in the forest, alone. Just you and your thoughts. 

The festival was too loud for you. But the cherry on top of that was how Jake kept looking at you the entire night. The way you constantly batted heads, even when you were not speaking was just aggravating.

The walk was peaceful, you were finally able to get some alone time. Some time to enjoy the true beauty of Pandora. It was calming in some sense, but your tension was still high.

A faint sound of a stick cracking far behind put you on alert, drawing your knife, tail swishing violently in the air. Your beards perked up, twitching at every little sound. Eyes darted around, trying to find the source of the cracking.

After what felt like an eternity, you were finally able to make out the figure approaching you.

Oh eywa.. Why him?

Of course it had to be Jake Sully coming to interrupt your peace. 

“Woah there princess, put the knife down, I’m not here to hurt you, yeah?” Jake’s tone was almost mocking, condescending even. 

You roll your eyes, dropping your knife, body still on high alert.

“Keep this up and I might hurt you.” You nearly spat back, tail swishing as your eyes met his.

There was a certain fire in his eyes, something with hatred that almost burned into lust. The way he looked at you, ready to fight with you again.  

“Someone’s got an attitude today,” Jake just kept mocking you, pushing your buttons, “How about we fix that, can’t have you going back to hometree spitting at everyone you see.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You turned away, walking deeper into the forest when you were pulled back, hands gripping at your waist.

“You heard what I said. Can’t let you back to hometree with an attitude.” His breath was hot against your ear.

Your whole body froze, his lips tracing behind your ear, hands gripping at the curve of your hips, breath landing on the nape of your neck. 

You wanted to get out of this situation badly, but eywa, having him this close did something to you. No matter how many times your head cursed him at this moment, the arousal growing in your womb was something you couldn’t hold back.

“You.. son of a bitch-” You mumble, taking in a sharp breath of air. 

“Yeah, yeah. Hate me all you want, kid, your body says different.” 

One of Jake's hands found its way past your loincloth, dipping past the fabric to your cunt. His other hand held onto one of your breasts, gently squeezing it, rolling your nipple in between two fingers. 

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this, especially with the man you hate. But god, it felt so good. It was twisted, really.

His fingers found their way to your sensitive bud of nerves, working it between his fingers pads. The sensation sent a shiver through your spine, a small gasp escaping your mouth. Your knees buckled a little, upper body almost folding in half already.

This was some kind of game now, seeing whoever could crumble first. Moving your hips, bumping your butt against Jake's bulge. He let out a low and quiet growl, his head moving back a little. 

“Jesus, kid. Yea, you feel what you do to me now?” *His voice was low, fingers working at your clit as his other digits rubbed between your folds.

It was a game of teasing, a game to see who could break first. It wasn’t supposed to feel this good, but you couldn't help it. He was just touching in all the right places. 

Low mewls and gasps escaped your lips no matter how hard you tried to hold them in. You were biting your lip so hard that it was surprising that you weren’t drawing blood. 

His fingers left your clit, quickly replaced by his thumb. Two fingers prodded at your entrance before slipping inside, sending ripples of pleasure through you, fingers finding themselves cozy in your velvety walls. 

You arousal coated his fingers with ease, making a mess of your loincloth and his hands. It felt so wrong yet so right. You could not figure if you wanted to enjoy this, or hate it simply because it was from Jake. 

His lips kept at your neck, planting kisses, bites, whatever he could to almost mark you as his. You were his to hate but his to fuck. Almost like he was going to make you a stress reliever, something he could use to fuck his anger out. 

You could feel the pleasure build up in your womb, stomach coiling into knots. It felt so good, just until his fingers pulled away, the pleasure almost being ripped from you.

Jake looked at you, almost letting out a small chuckle at how pitiful you looked. Your orgasm being ripped away from you had let you whine, thighs rubbing together. 

“Knees, now.” Jake commanded, leaving no room for you to argue.

He gave your thighs a slap. You rolled your eyes, plating yourself on the forest floor. He looked at you, a silent command, almost telling you what to do. 

Your fingers found the knot of his loincloth, fumbling with it. You were getting frustrated, Jake looking down and watching you in amusement.

“What's the problem down there, sweetheart?” His voice was laced with mockery and venom, a small smirk appearing on his face.

“Shut up.” You hissed back, fingers struggling to undo the tight knot. 

Jake's fingers replaced your own, undoing the knot and tossing his loincloth to the side. His cock was practically rock hard already, beads of precum falling down his length. 

With reluctance, you let him push past your lips, down that pretty throat of yours. His hips rutted into you with some sort of urgency, but also anger and a desire.

His cock reached so far down your throat, squeezing around him as you slightly gagged. The sounds were just extra stimulation for Jake, his mind already in a frenzy. Small tears falling down your cheek as he pushed past your throat. 

Jake looks at you, all pretty on your knees as that anger burns in your eyes, before he says, “Now thank me.”

You go frigid, looking at him with an intensity behind those eyes of yours. He wanted you to do what? Why would you ever thank him?

“Fucking thank me for letting you swallow all my cum like a good girl."

There’s a dark edge in his voice, low grunts coming from his chest as his pace quickened, cock twitching in your mouth.

“Fuck that’s a good girl.” Jake mentioned in between grunts and low moans, 

“Thank you-” You manage to choke out, the tip of his cock bruising the back of your throat.

As soon as you say the words, hot ropes of cum are spurting from his dick, coating the inside of your mouth white. His thrusts coming to a halt as he lets out a moan, cock twitching in your mouth.

The noises coming from him sent a heat down to your core, clenching your thighs. There was still no way you were getting turned on by him, but you couldn't help but want his cock inside of you.

“Swallow.” He  pulled his length out of your mouth, looking down at you. Jake's voice was laced with a certain dark edge to it. 

Jake crouches down to your level, palm of his hand holding your chin as his two fingers squish your cheeks, preventing you from spitting.

And you do, with no other choice at the moment. The way he looks at you like you’re inferior to him makes you feel so small right now. His cum slides down your throat, almost washing away the hateful words you want to curse him with.

You looked at him with a fiery intensity. Half tempted to slap that cocky smile off his handsome face. Damn him for being so arrogant, for getting you in this situation. 

Your hands went to his shoulder, pushing him on his back. Jake didn’t make any attempt to stop you, he just looked at you with a cocky grin. Oh how badly you wanted to prove him wrong. 

Moving yourself on top, tossing your loincloth, legs straddling the side of his hips. Your hands found their way to his cock, aligning it with your entrance, sliding down.

Well, fuck.

You did not calculate his size. Fuck, it felt like he was splitting you in two. Throwing your head back, letting out a moan. There was a pain from the stretch, hands on his abs to stabilize yourself.

“What’s wrong? Can’t take it? Thought a slut like you would be able to.” His hands held your waist, pulling you deeper on him until he was all inside, letting out a groan.

You didn’t even think it was possible to take his size, legs shaking as your cunt adjusted. The pain mixed in with the pleasure, creating an overwhelming feeling that sent sparks all over your body. His tip was prodding at your cervix, his cock stretching you more than you could stretch yourself. 

“Atta girl, see? You could do it, just needed a little push.” The more Jake spoke, the more you wanted to slap him.

“Be quiet, so fucking cocky..” You mumbled, moving your hips up and down. Your mind was practically telling you to stop, that he was your enemy, you weren’t supposed to end up fucking. 

It’s not like you could stop anyways. As much as you hated Jake, as much as your rivalry ran deep, he just felt too good to stop.

Jake leaned back, watching the way your hips desperately moved, watching the way you slide up and down with some sort of urgency that was mixed with lust.

“Yea, can’t be calling me stupid now when you’re bouncing all up on my cock like a whore.” 

His gaze was fixed on your face, watching how your face contorted with pleasure, your plump lips opening to let out moans. 

It was a sight to see, and a sight he was going to keep in his memory. 

Jake’s hands held your hips in place, stopping your movement. One of his hands went to your hair, pulling you down onto his chest. Bringing his hips back, he thrusted into you with a force that you swore knocked the wind out of you.

His pace was rough and ruthless, fucking you dumb. All you could do was mewl and moan on his cock. You couldn’t even formulate a full sentence anymore, your body too lost in the euphoria. 

Then came back that familiar feeling again, ropes knotting in your stomach, coiling tight on each other. 

“Fuck- ‘s too much.. Jake-” You can’t help but let his name slip past your lips, your orgasm building up with such an intense and quick force, overwhelming your senses.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl? Gonna come for me?” Jake let out a low chuckle, hand finding its way to your bottom, holding one of your asscheeks before giving it a spank. 

The sensation and burn of it sent you overboard, coming around his cock as he drilled into you. Your lips fell open with a moan as your body shook, waves of pleasure crashing down on you in intense waves.

After a few more thrusts on Jakes end, he was spilling inside you. A low grunt coming to the surface as he held you in place, face burying into the crook of your neck.

For a few moments, you both laid there, just trying to process everything. You slid off him, finding your loincloth and adjusting it back on. You tossed Jake his loincloth, not even looking him in the eye.

You probably couldn’t even look yourself in the eyes after that. How tense things were going to be with the next following days.

You just got yourself into a mess that had only 2 endings. 

taglist: @justasimps-blog

: ©clockmax 2023 ━━━ do not repost, copy, or translate my work.

#jake sully #jake sully smut #avatar smut #jake sully x reader #miles quartich #miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch x reader #tonowari #tonowari smut #tonowari x reader

[faces-ofvenus]

Hii, love everything you write! What about Aegon/Aemond having a crush on the same girl? ;)

Thank you for loving my writing, I hope you enjoyed it.

This would almost be a war, especially if we think about Aemond's point of view, he could very well in extreme situations try to kill his brother, that is if it was something Yandere (until when it is not, this boy is a Yandere even if he doesn't want to).

Both of them would try everything to fight each other, especially since childhood, in childhood it was much easier for Aegon to flirt and hit on you, he was like sincerely a breath of almost freedom running away with you right and left, he would provoke his brother in every way, stating several times that he would marry you, and not Aemond, it is pretty easy to know the little relationship between the two, even though Aegon is Aegon, you treat him with such kindness and gentleness, that maybe Alicent never gave you, so he would not be willing to give in or share that with his brothers, (another Yandere).

As I said in another blog, Aemond's flirting methods in childhood were quite simple, he would give you small things, none as extravagant as Aegon, something like flowers etc, he is shy, but what brings you two together, maybe it is the love for reading and art, usually Aegon doesn't even know about your relationship, he doesn't know about the sweet words Aemond speaks to you in the readings, and maybe it would be better this way, if not physical fights between the two would break out, they try to show each other how much better the other is.

In adult life everything tends to get worse, first because Aemond is no longer the shy and cute boy he used to be, and this kind of makes him open space for several provocations, and even wedding jokes, something that irritates his brother too much, Aegon wanted to be the only one who could have this affection, the only one who could draw smiles from you, the only one who could attract looks from you, no one else, and your brother wouldn't change that, your outings would really change, both of them on different nights calling you to fly with their dragons, no wonder both Sunfyre and Vhagar love you, the familiarity even allows you to pet them both, which makes them both jealous of each other.

If you in the end chose Aegon, Aemond would be devastated, he still had certain insecurities towards all this, even if his poker face, and his confident personality disguised a lot, but in your presence he could take off his eye patch, talk like the shy and gentle child he was, and he honestly as I said in the beginning thought about killing Aegon, but he knew for sure that you would never forgive him, and he wouldn't have it anyway, that doesn't stop him from threatening your brother, Aegon would be totally virtuous at that moment, to feel your lips knowing that you belong to him, the next day there's a beautiful emerald necklace on the headboard of his room, with a small letter that is very badly made, but that he tried very hard to be romantic.

If you chose Aemond, Aegon would be almost in a blind rage, most of his furniture ended up broken, he would drink more than before, which in itself is already worrying, more and more lascivious what kept him sincerely from not being with the maids was the fact that he thought that in the future he could have you, but now he'll never have you, all because of that damn one-eyed man, comments can be unleashed, some not so nice, he just holds an eternal grudge, both for Aemond and for you and everyone who influenced his choice. Aemond would be in the clouds, he would literally fly you out with Vhagar, they would land in a flowery field with some books in a small briefcase you brought, he would kiss you in such a shy way he just wasn't used to it, being king didn't matter so much anymore, he would have you, his queen at least in his mind, you were like a queen a true goddess.

If you happen to decide to stay with both of them, your beastly competitions never ceased, obviously you had to marry one, but in both of their mouths you were theirs, what is better than the protection of one dragon is the devotion of two, they are overprotective, and extremely competitive, like who leaves the most hickeys on you and etc, I don't doubt that one or two of their children, are either with Aegon or Aemond, and honestly neither of them could know whose is which, and I don't think they would care, you were theirs, and only theirs, anyone who dared to get in your way, could be burned and seconds.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #reader #reader insert

[jane-john-doe-tournament]

John Doe (Malevolent) Propaganda:

Spooky gay eldritch disaster (am I doing this right?)

Could have chosen any name for himself and picked John because a kind person called him that :)

fractured piece of an eldritch god that shares a body with a private eye after being fractured. chooses the name John Doe after said private eye goes into a coma

Because he's an eldritch god who wants to feel human and who overcame a lot of obstacles and dangers!!! He sincerely cares about the main character!!! And he chose a name himself! Isn't he cute??? He lost his body, he almost lost his memory, he fought for his right to exist, he loves animals, he loves his friend Arthur and I love him!

Being an ass, friendship, spooky supernatural stuff, he’s got it all

My man heard the name John Doe, realized he didn’t actually have a name, and just. Took it for himself.

I LOVE HIM. MY SON. HE'S TRYING TO CHANGE AND BE BETTER AND :(((( He's a fragment of the soul of the King in Yellow (god of trickery and suffering iirc??) that gets trapped in a book in our realm while the rest of the King stayed in his own separate realm. When a human named Arthur Lester opens the book they get linked and John gains control of Arthur's eyes & kills his partner (oops!). They proceed to go on a quest to find a way of separating them because neither likes the situation, and at first John (or The Entity, which is what he's called at first) just wants to trick and use Arthur, and control his entire body (through the first season he also gets a hand & a foot) even though he doesn't remember being The King In Yellow at the time, but Arthur makes him change and become more human. His turning point is when Arthur is shot and falls into a coma for a month. They get treated at a hospital and while John waits for Arthur to wake up so they can carry on, the body itself still gets taken care of. The time John spends alone, contemplating on humanity & everything he's seeing and learning from Arthur, as well as the way a certain nurse speaks to him every day (specifically, she greets him good morning and good night, despite the body being unresponsive, John still hears because he is an entity linked to the body) and calls him John (they didn't have ID on when they were found so they were classified as John Doe), changes his outlook and plans for good, and he asks Arthur to call him John; from this point on he admits he cares for Arthur, looks for his wellbeing too, and in general attempts to be a better person and to live for himself. The rest of the podcast (ongoing!!) explores Arthur & John's relationship, struggle to survive, adventures in the eldritch… All while tackling each of their issues with themselves and each other and watching them both grow. John in specific learns to be the person he wants to be, how sometimes you'll take a step forward and two backwards; he can be cruel and manipulative sometimes but he still tries. Personally I love his journey, it's very realistic and you can see he is trying his best, and how he wants to be better than he was as the King In Yellow, and how much Arthur has changed him and how much he cares about him because of that; and how he's slowly growing into being his own person :) if it ends badly ill cry so hard but!!! he's John Doe because that's the name he was being addressed as, and he's made it his, and being John means he's no longer the King and that he wants to be different, and John can fail or make mistakes but it's part of who he is now, and that's what matters. I am So Normal About Him

JOHN DOE (Malevolent) SWEEP

John Doe (Ace Attorney) Propaganda:

technically John Doe is the fake name he uses to hide his identity as an assassin but uh, that's still the name he goes by. its because his real surname is literally "de killer" so.

His real name is Shelly de Killer, but he uses the pseudonym John Doe. Does that still count?

#jane john doe tournament #john doe #malevolent #john doe malevolent #ace attorney #john doe ace attorney #round 2

[homoquartz]

k now that it's over here's my thoughts. they're the negative ones so they're under readmore. i'll post my positive ones the way i normally do.

i want to start by saying of COURSE i love this show. like of course i do. so:

second seasons are almost always written kind of badly so i am trying to be fair here. i also know strikes and time constraints BADLY fucked the script.

but even so, some of the pacing is fucky in a way that feels confused. like some scenes were cut so short i thought there was an editing error. relationships seemed to develop offscreen, when it feels like those scenes should have been prioritized over some others if folks knew they were gonna have to make cuts. and for whatever reason, some scenes or concepts were held onto when there simply wasn't any room for them (ned being the most egregious imo).

i predicted that they would react to the fan obsession with izzy by giving him too much airtime and i was right. he had more time and character development (though i think his character was changed unrealistically at times) than anyone else by MILES. i am an izzy hater, but even if i wasn't at a certain point i would BEG him to give up the fucking mic.

ESPECIALLY because he has now overshadowed Jim (!!!!!!), who was groundbreaking as a queer nonbinary POC lead. season 1 Jim was practically co-lead and now had NO motivation outside kissing girls this season. AND we STILL don't know anything about olu, roach, or frenchie. our characters of color were badly neglected i think. yi sao may be the only exception, i think she was done well with the time given.

speaking of olu, his romance with the pirate queen was pivotal to the main plot of the season but we get like NO time with him! let alone his relationship with yi sao. imagine a few cut izzy scenes to flesh out olu's situationships. all of them.

i believe at least part of the reason they dropped olu/jim was because jim's actor advocated for jim to date women. That's fine. but it was handled SO disrespectfully given their romance arc in season 1!! not even a conversation?? and to shoehorn in archie when jackie and yi sao and mary/anne were right there?? Lazy imo, and poor streamlining

and speaking of other characters, there were too many. season 1 connected all the antagonists together nicely, with the main big bad being the british. now the big bad is ??? sometimes ned, sometimes yi sao, sometimes nose guy, sometimes jackie, sometimes ed.

season 1 had episode-long enemies, a la calico jack and the french party, but the episodes SAT with those enemies and made them meaningful. ned just kind of appeared and died. if stede needed a reason for his ego trip, or to show off his people management skills, it could have been like. literally one of a million other situations. if we needed ed's suicide attempt to be via ned, ned could have shown in episode 3.

no one's relationships had time to develop naturally like they did in season 1. you didn't have time to understand anyone's motivations. stede and ed were a "couple" for all of half of two episodes. for a show about their romance there was surprisingly little time dedicated to the beats of their relationship. though it would have been painful, i think this season would have deeply benefitted from ed and stede not getting together until the finale. their actions and motivations don't make sense unless you take the kissing out of it. I'm sure a good deal of that is due again to cuts made by HBO.

i'm very disappointed, but that doesn't mean i'm ungrateful. this show is still extremely important, i am praying for a third season renewal, and i hope that season turns the ship around.

#our flag means death #our flag means death spoilers #ofmd meta

[drdtfuvhcuguchv]

I was fucking born with severe social anxiety

#when I was really young I had what I’ve learned is selective mutism #like I wasn’t just shy #I literally could not speak in certain situations even though I so badly wanted to #I’d a stranger tried to talk to me I just couldn’t respond #I could only really make noises #my mom said I used to fucking meow at people #that was the best I could do #even that was a struggle #I remember this vividly #now it’s all lessened into severe social anxiety #I am able to speak if I so desire #but I avoid it #and my heart pounds out of my chest for 10 minutes after I say hello back to the Walmart employee #but at least I have the ability #I was homeschooled last year because of my anxiety #but I don’t think that’s the way to go #I only dug myself a deeper hole #plus I failed #😎 #I’m trying so hard to get better but I don’t know how to begin #I don’t even know who I am without my debilitating social anxiety #edd noises

[smolalienbee]

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” + any combo of the witcher characters?

thanks for the request!! decided to go with post-s2 yennskier for this one!

side note, the whole drabble thing went out the window immediately because i’m incapable of writing anything that’s only 100 words long lol

(send me a pairing and a prompt and i’ll write you a drabble ficlet!)

It's funny, Yennefer thinks to herself, how it is yet again the bard that catches her when she falls. Quite literally, this time, she realizes once her head stops spinning and she gets a proper grip on the situation. Jaskier’s arms are around her middle, gentle but firm, and when she tilts her head she can see the concern in his eyes. She swallows, tearing her eyes away.

"Are you -" he starts, but she doesn’t let him finish.

"I'm - fine, Jaskier. I'm -"

She moves to push herself away from him, to stand up on her own two feet, but then her vision swims. Jaskier’s at her side in an instant, hands grasping at her gently.

"Sit down," he murmurs, not a trace of judgement or pity in his voice. As though he understands. As though he knows how badly she wants to be strong.

She doesn't bother to resist as he guides her over to the closest chair, well aware he wouldn’t let her protest.

"You fainted -" he speaks once she’s seated and she scoffs. I'm fine, she wants to repeat, over and over again, I can keep going, I need to keep going because my Chaos is the only thing I have. The only reason I'm still allowed to be here. “- straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

His words are what gets her to look up at him, surprised. There’s a glint in his eyes, an amused smile, and perhaps this shouldn’t be so shocking. He does understand, she thinks when he doesn’t immediately prod at her. When he doesn’t tell her that she pushes herself too much, when he jokes about it instead despite the lingering concern she can still see in his eyes and feel in the aura surrounding him.

“I can think of better ways of getting your attention, bard,” she huffs, but relaxes all at once. “If there’s anyone here that could faint on command just for the sake of the dramatics, it would be you.”

“Well, dear, I can’t say you’re wrong... but the point stands. You really did just faint right into my arms. Geralt will be jealous, once he hears about this.”

She feels his hand brush against her shoulder and then it lingers there. The touch makes her realize just how close he’s standing, as though ready to catch her once more.

“Does he have to hear about it?” she snorts and he smiles faintly. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“True.” He falls silent, then, but not for long. “...you need to rest, Yennefer.”

Ah. There it is. The crux of the matter.

“They need -”

“And of what use are you going to be if you can’t even stand up?” he cuts in bluntly. “Besides,” his voice softens, “they care about you. I know as well as you do how bloody awful Geralt is at showing it, but he truly does, of that much I’m certain. Ciri, too, she’d have been lost without you. And -” A pause and his hand squeezes her shoulder. “- in a surprising twist of events, I care, too.”

She closes her eyes and leans into his touch, allowing it to soothe her along with his words. She’s not sure if she’ll ever get used to the way Jaskier looks at her, as though he sees her for who she truly is, Chaos or not. It’s... freeing.

“I know,” she whispers. “But... this is the only way I know how to make up for the things I’ve done. For... getting Ciri hurt.” For getting so many people hurt.

“Unlike some of us, you have plenty of time. You don’t have to do it all at once.”

Another squeeze to her shoulder and she exhales. With that exhale and his warmth still steady at her side, she feels a little lighter. She feels... no, she knows that there is more to her than just her pain and her Chaos.

(Or, at the very least, she knows that Jaskier believes so.)

#smolalienbeewrites #twn #yennskier #yennefer #jaskier #witcher #witcher netflix #the witcher #yennefer x jaskier #jaskier x yennefer #jaskier the bard #julian alfred pankratz #yennefer of vengerberg #prompt fic #witcher fic #witcher fanfic #fanfiction #ficlet #i still have no idea how to write yen well but this was fun! #i saw the prompt and i was immediately like it either needs to be jask dramatically fainting or saying the line #in the end decided that the line was very in character for jask lol #first yennskier thing i wrote actually! #not-drabble #as ive started affectionally calling it since i very quickly decided not to even try to make it a drabble

[aeempress]

Apritello Express Evidences, part 2

Khem-khem, ladies and gentlemen, we shall continue out praising Apritello's episodes. And yeah, this part will be dedicated, in entirety just one episode.

Purple jacket. April and Donnie's episode.

I really love this piece of masterpiece, because it show April and Dee relationship, better reveals them as characters, and demonstrates their connection. (My previous points at this whole situation)

The episode begins with Donnie sneaking into April's school under the pretext of helping her. Soon, April stated the reason why she called D - her science computer project. Actually, she could take a photo of the code and sent it to Donatello, and I'm sure, he would send her the correct one right away, he's coder, he's prodigy, no probbles.

But still, April just asked him to come over and help her without stating any reasons. And he, indeed, came at speed of the light.

I want you to understand what exactly does that mean.

First: April is aware how much Donnie is into human culture. He wants to study in normal human school, do some average teen stuff. Especially, he is loving school and science-related stuff, all these science school projects, visits to botanical gardens, experiments and laboratory work. Because it's his field. It's exactly his domain, where he's good at. His family does not share his interest in science, and April is only one who can understand him. Probably.

Also, April know, how badly Donnie wants to go to school, which gives him an excuse, even if not the most solid one, but an excuse, nevertheless, to visit her school again.

Why again?

Because he has no problem navigating there. Donnie went directly to April's computer class.

He loves this place. And he'd already helped April with her projects.

Even so, knowing that every time she asked guys, especially Don, for help, it turned into a cataclysm, April still called him to help.

It's just a weird, indirect way to say, " Let's hang out, I know how much you like this whole situation with science, school and etc. Here ya go, buddy"

It seems like April did that to make something pleasant to him, something small, but nice to make him feel better. Because, as I state before - he likes to help April (praise, doing something useful for April - still counts as a motivation) and he likes school.

Second: khem-khem, D came at her school, as it seems, right away she called/texted. He didn't even know the proper reason, but c'mon: April ask for help, plus, her school. Sounds legit, don't you think?

Anyway, April has always been being the reason and excuse for teetles, but especially for Donnie. Clear? Clear. Good.

Donnie also tends to not think things through when he is excited. Because he went at the daylight in place, full of people just to help April.

ROTTMNT shows us how turtles were really afraid of human reaction and possible consequences. They have plan "H" to pretend they are going to Galaxy Con, brothers have explanation why they look weird and it's definitely not because boys are mutants, uh-huh, no, plus, guys go on surface at evening or night hours, when there are not so many people, and it's dark, obviously, to cover them and keep unseen.

Yeah, of course, Donnie seems more capable then his brothers to handle the surface (he has cash, D's dressed up as old ladies more than once, according to Leo, he was in April's school before, so yeah, no big deal) and I suspect that his friendship with April is one of the reasons.

Third: do you remember how April worried about looking "normal" when she was finally invited to a school party? She even forbade Mayham to appear nearby, just not to look like the lizard boy. Because cool kids don't bring pets to school. April doesn't have many friends, or rather, there are none at school, and she's been trying to solve this problem by getting close to Taylor Martin, the coolest girl in school.

And April O'Neil just calls Donatello, an objectively strange guy (since when is it normal to be a fan of school? Pretty questionable) in place, where her reputation is hanging in a balance. Our girl does not try to hide Dee, as it usually shown in shows for kids, and April do not pretend that she sees him for the first time in her life because, you know, Donnie will catch everyone's attention being himself and may embarrass her in front of her classmates. But no - April says with all her actions: "Yes, I know him. Yes, that dork is with me. And I don't give a damn about your opinion. Your problems, not mine. And yeah, I'm fine with him being here."

I mean it, guys. The devil is always in the tiny details.

The way they behave around each other.

Donatello is way more, MORE relaxed and just being himself: dramatic dorky nerdy ninja with current obsessions. The way he sneaked in school and April's classroom, the way he behaves alone with her is contrasting the way of his attitude while his brothers are near.

Don has a specific way to shown up. Instead of texting her, Donnie used shurekens. Yes, he almost fell off the lamp, but still, that's... quite an entrance he makes there.

April worries about him, when he fell from ceiling.

Our girl feel relaxed enough around Donnie, so she winks at him.

A wink is a fairly casual gesture that shows some expression of sympathy, trust, and togetherness. It's both good for saying "We're in same boat, we're team" and show the playful attitude towards someone. Isn't that an indicator?

Ironically, that being the best friends April and Donnie do not have any secret handshake/brofist/special greeting, as it usually the besties have at kid's series. Like Kendra and Jeremy have.

I can do only one possible logical conclusion: their relationship is far beyond "friends," "best friends," and "family".

Btw, about this certain phrase about secret five.

- Nay, fair April. A secret five[...].

Once again, nice wording, Donatello. Fair April? Maybe I'm too critical, but often when someone wants to convince their interlocutor and at the same time show one's condescension to them, it's usually uses "my dear ..." or something like that. I understand that semantically the difference is not very big, but in the first case, you can feel Donnie's personal attitude, even though he uses a book word. The second is just formal politeness, which emphasizes the difference between the rightness of the disputants.

This phrase were interpreted on official Russian dub as (okay, it's really hard to choose the correct word, because there's a lot of synonyms in English that sits quite well, while on Russian it's just one word, damn) "Нет, милая (No, honey/sweetheart )". Actually, a strange choice of wording, 'cause this is not what usually friends use to say to each other. We prefer use words like " my darling", "my dear", to demonstrate leniency. And again, most often this prerogative belongs to the older generation. Russians rarely throw around such words as "honey", "dear", "sunshine", because this deprives these endearments of any meaning, and a person using them, as a rule, is familiar. Of course, there are people who use them on a regular basis, but I HIGHLY doubt that Donatello is one of them. It's not his style.

But still, maybe I just too critical at this point.

April, as it is shown, have some kind of power to cool and calm him down and bring Donnie back to life reality.

1. Don awakes from his daze while heard April's voice

2. He's literally coming back to life, when April said about his broken jetpack.

3. Dee obediently interrupts his touching farewell to the jacket when April yells at him.

Oh, and his face. I remind you, fellas, we're talking about Donatello, "I really do not like to express emotions"-guy and "I will die if someone broke my bAbEyS"-guy.

And what do we see? Donnie's emoting. And feels free to do that. He's even drooling. (What seems kinda interesting without context, if you're understand what I'm talking about ;))

Dee doesn't seem angry about broken jetpack. And his wide smile, while he's assuring April he can fix it? A few minutes ago, he was steamed when his stuff was stolen, but when the jetpack was broken, he doesn't even raise an eyebrow. Very eloquent.

April is his support

April also supports Donnie whatever he's up to. Yes, she hadn't been excited when Othello had expressed a desire to join the club. However, she also introduced him to Kendra and company. Yes, she showed by her whole appearance that she did not share his joy, but nevertheless, our loyal captain O'Neil was there for him, by his side all this time.

And her sweet facial expression. From "Srsly? Join this jerks?" to "If you dare to even think about to hurt him, I'll smash you".

And one more cute detail about Dee. Even if he does whatever he wanted so badly, Don constantly looks around at April, looking for her approval.

- Be honest, April, do I look fantastic, or SUPERBLY fantastic?

- You look like you drop a juice box in a laundry. (Play nice, April, don't be mean)

He cherishes her opinion.

April had even called him late at night just to, technically speaking, say that his tech were stolen. And what's the big deal with all his outfit? It's late night, they can just sneak out into Nakamura in their usual form. But noooo, April give a special ride on her bicycle. Just. You know. Our girl carried her own weight and his all the way without stopping. And then she went up 53 + floors running non-stop because Donnie's equipment was stolen. And then she had to chase the her classmates, dodge and jump out of the window. Because Purple dragons stole Dee's tech. Like shooting fish in a barrel, no big deal at all.

And it's definitely not because he will be totally crashed or he'll do stupid things during his anger, which will then come out sideways.

And April comes along with him to very end.

By the way, their phone conversations.

Donnie is the very case when "Call at any time of the day or night and I will pick up the phone".

When April called him when he needs D's help with Albearto, when something is definitely going on behind.

As it says in transcript of the episode:

[April takes out her phone, scrolls to Donnie’s listing and calls him. Donatello appears on screen. Behind him a flying microwave wearing boxing gloves shoots lasers at his brothers.]

Don: "You are conversing with Donatello."

April

[Crouched on floor in hiding.]

Dude, I need your help."

Don: "For you, anything. As long as it does not involve bees, or spiders, or beach balls.

[There’s an explosion behind him and his brothers cry out, which he ignores.]

And yeah, he took her incoming immediately, he ignores absolutely and totally everything around him, because... April? Expositions, bloody flying microwave bot turned to destroy mode, his brothers screaming and being in life-threatening situation? Naaah, it can wait.

Donatello was at Todd's, building "the puppiest place on Earth" and was very enthusiastic about to finish this thing. But he paused anyway to answer April.

We already know how obsessive with work Don can be: if something interesting gets into his field of view, he begins to do it all day long. Remember "The Purple Game" - a very revealing case. Yeah, we weren't shown how much Donnie is into engineering, but I can guess that point remains the same.

April called him at late night and Donnie picked up the phone.

April, unlike Donatello, is a teenager who is burdened with social relationship such as family, school, and work periodically, which implies a more or less strict schedule to follow and some conventions, such as " April, you can't go out late at night to catch robbers, you are underage and you have to go to school/work tomorrow). However, she was watching the news late at night, so she called Dee. ( I have a lot of questions, but I'll never get answers, as it seems)

D, in turn, doesn't have so many contacts with the outside world. I highly doubt that anyone else outside of the family and April has his number. And yet, when he hears the call late at night he takes it. Yes, he had awaken from the nightmare, but still.

And what's up with his usual "You're conversing with Donatello"? He didn't even understand what's going on, as it seems, he's too sleepy to play his usual image and playfully attitude as we could see in "Hypno Part Deux" and "War and Pizza".

Adorable couple-like D&A arguing

April very rarely uses "I told you so" against anybody, or rather, this is almost the only case. This phrase is more suitable for Leo or Donnie, and you know," I told you so! " we usually use on people we know well, and we want to tease 'em about them being wrong. Which, in fact, once again highlights and proves how close D&A are. And I don't even get started about the fact that this is more like a couple's quarrel, not a friend's.

And one more time - in the end, when April suggests using the jacket to stop Kendra.

Their teamwork

I stated that before, I'll tell it one more and more times. The chemistry of their team interaction is incredible. It's as if they can feel each other, and each knows what the other is capable of doing in the next moment. April easily adapts to Donnie's attack, realizing his plan.

Donnie also throws them both out of the window in order to continue the pursuiting Kendra on the jetpack. Don is one hundred percent sure of April, that she will understand what he wants to do, Dee trusts her with his life without hesitation, and she has never used his jetpack. He just puts her before the fact: April will be using the tech.

Up for Donnie!

I really like how this scene was made. Donatello struggles with his own tech, somewhat he made by himself, having invested almost whole himself and his soul, but what "betrayed" him in end. When Dee finally managed to shake one of his battleshell, which almost choked him, Donnie feel so scared and unsecured. We can see his anxiety - Dee's coaching position with covering his head with his hands and tucking his knees.

Defenseless, helpless, and mostly lost, and then, just in time - hero comes to save his life. She uses Donnie's name as battlecry, look how furious she is.

Funny fact: on Russian dub April yells "Don't touch Donnie! (how dare you, madafaka)

April fits in Donnie's type of girls. She's cute (obvious) and mean (not so obvious).

I can't say that meanness is the main feature of April's character, as we can say about Kendra. But this personality trait is still present in her and sometimes it does not manifest itself so widely. April's meanness is not so pronounced, it is much softer and smoother, and it is not exposed.

But April becomes really mean when someone messes up with Donnie.

She's his support and prop. Literally. Just look at first frame, okay-okay, jokes aside

She's genuinely enjoying of kicking bad guys ' asses, even letting go of witticisms and barbs.

Last scenes

Don survived a rough night: he was used, his tech was stolen, so he and April had to chase the satin robed punks. Donnie was hit in the head with a hammer, he fell from a bird's-eye view, passed out and then his battleshell tried to strangle him. And April is here to comfort him, to cheer him up.

Yes, we don't get any hugs (because it's kids show, bleh), the tactility is kept to a minimum, except for April's comforting hand on his shoulder, but they don't even look at each other. But the softness of her voice, the intonation with which she utters a phrase (that is usually sent to the friend zone, but "pal" is really neutral word, and the most important how she said that) turn the scene upside down. It is not what April did to comfort him matter, it's how she did this.

I said "yes" to you way too often

April mirrors Donnie with his "Anything for you". Yes, of course, she said this with a certain amount of grumbling, but her voice and her demeanor suggest otherwise - she is not at all averse to going to giving in him.

And the way they're look at each other.

This one

And one more detail

It's really tiny, it's hard to catch from the first watching the episode, but still, it's possible. I'm talking about graffiti on the walls of the alley where April and Don had landed.

This one

Yeah, if we speak about reality it's quite normal to see graffiti like this. But we talking about TV-series, where everything has its own place and meaning. And if there something, it must be there, it's not just whim of artist who put it in there. But this little graffiti changes the mood of scene.

#rottmnt #rise of tmnt #rot rmnt #tmnt2018 #tmnt #rise donnie #april o'neil #aprilxdonnie #rise april #rottmnt apritello #apritello #hamato donatello #rottmnt donatello #rise apritello #apritello 2018 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja #rise april o'neil #donatello 2018 #april o'neil 2018 #apritello express

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

Since you said about disembodied reader.

I like to thought of how player just mocking them and talk badly of how bad they're (those who hurt Nikki) whilst the player compliment the others but still saying "I still don't trust you tho" and Nikki having hard time to ignore her "ghost-friend" since they're talking so loudly (as if they're in the loud party) but no one can see them.

Little did the player know, they(characters) heard it.

I imagine that once they see her and even can interact with her, then they add "You know I know of how you thought to us" then other things she said, and made the player shock about that...

Prayed that Nikki will come and find them since they left without notice.

—°u°

hi hi °u°!

ooh this actually probably would've happened, especially with the ones who have betrayed/hurt nikki and those who have helped her. but since our input as the player about any of the characters in pretty limited in general, we actually have no idea what they think or how they talk about said characters, other than what we talk about in nikki's home. but yes, i do like to think of this ghost that follows nikki around that smack talks literally everyone and curses them out and roasts them and poor nikki is trying to keep a straight face bc we're practically cursing up a storm and very loudly might i add.

just the mental image of ghost player ready to throw hands is so fucking funny man,,,

lil scenario up ahead !

you've always been the type to be a bit more abrasive when it comes to how you speak and think, regardless of your appearance. that's the difference between you and nikki; she's far sweeter and trusting around others, and she always tries to see the good in everything. so of course she couldn't even say anything bad about anyone, especially cursing them out. you, on the other hand, couldn't really care less and you tend to be blunt about nearly everything. poor nikki had always panicked when you would bluntly say the words she couldn't say and would tryーkey word is tryーto wave it off.

so it's no real surprise that you become much looser once you've come to the realization that no one can see nor hear you. only nikki can hear the words you sayーnot that you mind. but it makes everything interesting, because you can say the words you could never say, and no one can do anything. it's practically paradise for you. of course, you give nikki any of your advice should the situation call for it, such as trying to pick out certain outfits from helz's store, picking out the best discounts at the store, and which new anime to cry over, but you digress.

but your status as nikki's "companion ghost," as you kindly put it, also let you practically say anything about the many diverse people that nikki had met in her travels. of course, many themselves were good people whom had aided nikki in her journey, such as the ever cute helz ( who you really want to smother by the way ), the mysterious yexiao, who had been the first other than nikki to finally see you, the charming lover boy loen ( you debated on insulting or complimenting him, so you chose both ), and the bold and fierce zoey ( whom you would very much like to step on you ).

but there's an invisible boundary between you since you know that truly involving yourselves with them could bring potential harm, and after seeing what your precious nikki had gone through, you didn't need to see it once more. they had helped you - nikki - but they still held brewing emotions and secrets and motivations underneath those faces that you couldn't even begin to say, much less get yourself involved in. it stings, especially knowing that both you and nikki do want to befriend others, but then you remind her of kimi, of orlando, of bobo, and tearfully, of lunar, and she agrees, a sad smile across her thin lips.

" think of them nikki, we'll see them again, okay?" you whisper, embracing her tightly though she cannot feel it too much, she still brings a hand where your forearm should be. " i know, i know," she whispers back, voice cracking as she holds back the emotions from remembering her times with said companions. you smile gently, but she can't see it. so you settle for combing your fingers through her pink locks, and she sighs, before taking a breath, having her resolve firmed out.

and then, there are those whom you hold with utter disgust and hatred in your heart, such as mercury, qin yi, and nightbane themselves. you can feel your blood utterly boil each time someone even so much as mentions them. you hate them, very much so. if it weren't for your current situation with you being invisible and all, you'd have strangled them long ago.

you hate them for the pain they put nikki through, you hate them for how utterly despicable they are, and you hate them for just existing in the first place. a part of you almost feels sorry for them, for the pain they went through and what it shaped them into. but as you had stared down at nikki's tear-stained face as she felt the utter guilt for something that wasn't even her fault, the burning hatred rises up again and whatever pity - sympathy you suppose, has rotted and crumbled away.

--

" he's a weirdo nikki," you nonchalantly say like you've just told her the weather," he looks like a playboy that didn't get lucky," you snicker at that last part. said girl looks ready to curl up on the spot, although she's doing her best to not look bothered by your words. you don't mind loen too much, but he reeks of lover boy vibes-

and he seems fun to bully.

" i've seen frat boys cuter than him nikki," you lean on the tavern counter as you stare right at the blonde who's busy staring down poor nikki. you snicker once more, before your smile fades and you lean close to her ear. " don't trust him too much, he could betray us y'know," you wrap your arms around her neck and hold her close, staring down loen.

before you speak once more -

" if he tries to flirt with you, i'll kick him in the dick." her grip on her dress tightens as the profanity is said right into her ear.

his grin falters and he blinks.

haha.

--

qin yi.

you hate him. you fucking hate him with every fiber in your being. his very presence gives you chills and makes you want to throw up. something felt so inherently wrong about him, and it near claws at you from the inside, eating you away -

" you disgusting son of a bitch-!!" you hiss at him from behind nikki, unintentionally digging your nails into her shoulder but she doesn't even feel it. she slightly flinches at your words, face grimacing as she tries to keep a straight face.

" nikki, don't trust him, please..." you plead, something akin to dread crawling about in the pit of your stomach. she only gives you an apologetic look, as if wanting you to stop being so crude and trust someone for once.

but you can't.

just the very sight of qin yi makes you recoil and want to claw at your own eyes to remove the image of him from your vision.

just hearing his silky smooth voice makes you gag and want to stab away at your eardrums until you can hear nothing but the stinging ringing within your head.

" please-"

but she turns away, only giving you one last lookover trying to soothe your growing unease. you sigh, silently standing as she follows qin yi alongside joy. you grit your teeth, before jumping to the pinkette's side-

and turning your head to face the two-faced bastard.

" i'll fucking kill you."

his silver hues shift, until they bore into you - nikki is right next to you. he's observing.

but it didn't change your words one bit.

" i hate you."

ǎ̶̞͈͕͎̟̮̥̰̠̫̖͈͋͜

̸̗̠̘̦͖͔̙̣͕̪͕̫̃̃̉̾͋̑͋́̚͘͜͝͝ ̸̥̖̿̍ ̵̲͖͓̟͉͓̭̳͓̿͗͌̒͊͌ ̷̲̺͈͉̘̘͇̈͒̿͆͋̔̍͘͘à̷̡̧̤͙̻͔̿̄̅̈́́̊̽̓̐͋͠

̴̨̢̰̤̦̘̳̽̾͋͜ ̸̙͙̿̐̒͒̾̇̕ ̶̢̧̙͈̘̙͓̱̮͉̜̝̜̎͐́͒͝ ̷̡̨̡͓̫͙̜̩͈̺̤̘̦̗̽͛͌̎̄̊̊̾̏̒͠ͅ ̵̫̼̘̗̮̓̒̓͊̿̅͐̚͘͝ ̶̪̙̙̹̠̩̹̖̩̹̮͐̉̃̑̆̚͜ ̶͇̤̩̜̻̺̮̥͖͉͈̞̗̈a̴̛̫̞̪̻͈̍͗͑̌̈́̔͘͝

̶̧̗̱͎͚͍̂̀̑́̓̿̓̊͜͜͝ ̵̛͍́̈́͐̾͒̃̀͆̕͝ ̷̧͇̩͖̯̞͔͗ ̶̨̭͖̼̥̻͔͔̳͔̹̙̫̦͒̄̊̋̑́̋͛́̒͂̾̂ ̸̨̛͍̠̲̦͙͔̘̩̝̪̜̄͊̆͂̈́͒͌͋̈́͂͌͐͝ ̸̢̨̣̺͖̝͚̭̩̬̯͖̜̠͈̔͑̃͗̏͊͋̚͘͠ ̵̡̤͉͎͖̠̪̰̖̹̜̟͍͔̰͑̈̇̓̅ ̷̥̪̥̹̖̬͈̟̦̤͇̘̩̥̅̉͒̑͌͂̉͌̿̽͑̔̀̕ ̵̢̨̘̣̘̩͍̳̠̝̱͉̺̱͑͑̓̋̀̏͠ ̴̫͖̻̼̟̝͉̤̮̼̰̗͕̎̒͂̇́ͅá̴̛͈̘̪͚̲̬͗̆̎̇̊̋̓̿͌̀

̶̦̉́͆͐̐͌̇̓̿̒̽͝ ̵̘̠̪̥̫͈̩̖̺́̅̂͝ ̵͕̅́̐͛̏̈́͒̑̓͊̕̕̚͝ ̴̮͈̏̑̾͘ ̶̩̺̓̿̾̏̂̂̂͌͘ ̶̨̢̙̳͍̣͕̪͈̗̼̾́͋ͅ ̸͉̳̩́́ ̵̼̖̟̹̜̣̹͐̈́̍͆͋̄̐͐̑̅̓̾̅̚͠ ̶̨̪̤͍̖͈͖͉̎͐̈́̎̍̀̓̊̾̑̀͒̚ ̷̤̀͌̕̕ ̴̡̢̧̫͎̫̣̪̮̱̭͓̗͙̏̀̒͑̇̆̐͝ ̵̢̇̉̓́́̀̚a̶̟̯͔̍̂͑̀̉ͅ

nikki lets out hiccuped sobs, once lively amber eyes now puffy and reddened with hours of wails and sobs wracking her body. she looks damn ready to scream, but it can only come out forced and choked while the tears continue to fall. her thin arms are wrapped around her chest, her desperate attempt to comfort herself through the pain. she does not give the usual "you were right" cry, she only drowns in her guilt for poor joy and her stupid and blind trust in something so disgusting.

but you do not blame her, you do not begrudge her for being so naïve, you do not smugly hold it over her.

you gently hush her, embracing her as tightly as you could, although she couldn't feel it. but you stroke her pink locks, patting her shuddering head and whispering sweet nothings.

" it's not your fault nikki," you say, voice soft and somber as you continue to hold her close to you. you don't stop her sobs, since you know she needs to get the sorrow and tears out of her system before she can be talked down again.

that fucking bastard-

you can feel your gaze sharpen as pure rage fills your every vein, and you pull one hand away - she doesn't notice - to dig your nails into the skin of your palm. your teeth grit so hard you can almost feel your jaw lock in place.

qin yi.

the name feels like poison on your tongue. you near gag, but hold it in for nikki's sake. but you know that if given the chance-

you'd fucking kill him.

i̶̢̨͈͉͈͉͍̟͍͉̝̱͓̠̼͇̔̂̿̕̕ ̵̡̢̺̠̫͈̜̬̗̬̹̤̠͑̄͑̒͐͑̌̕͝ͅh̶̡̢͍͓̖̗̰̬̥̹̝̪͚̦̟͈̘͈̘̃͗́̀̆̍̔͆̾̅͝ą̴̡̢̟̦̖̩̜̠̦͓̥̩̩͉̜̌̄̍̌̿̀̇̂̓͂̊̿̿̇̈́̆͜͝t̴̯̱̹̥̖̳͐e̶͙̠̥̰̣̜̤͓͎̲͋͗̉̿̏̈̾͝͠͝ ̷̢̗̰̰̳̱̠̫̳̱͖̭́̾̓̎̌́̊͜y̴̡͎̝͕͕̲̞̥̣̻̗̟̣̯̓̈̇͐̊̐͆̐̊͊̉̅̃̚̕ͅơ̸̢̰̹̜̞͙͙̠̏̂̄̈́́́͒̽̊̔͒̀̿̍́̕͘u̴̡̧͈̹͚̩̙̪̱̦̻̗͓͈͍̭̐̍̒̃͆͛͌͗́͛͜ ̸̲̠͖͇̝͉̩̬̠͔̯̬̜̱̣̘̣̄̉ͅî̷̮̟͐̅̈́̂̅̍̅̾̑͒̅̊̚ ̷̨̰̞̺̬̩̔̂̈́̒̔́͆͒͠͝͝ĥ̷̙̝̳̪̝̩̜̝̥͍̗͌͠ͅą̸̢̞̰̭̩̥̪͇̬̼̻̯̤̩̝͓̍̾̍̾̆̈̀͜ṭ̴̨̨̱͕̞̺̙̞͇̜̞̫͙̦̗̲̖̊̍̂̃̀̒͂̄̃̐ḙ̵̡̤̬̭̺̖̙̹͎͉̮̖̝͚̥̂͒̈́̾̌̃̂̕͠ ̷̮̰̯͑̋̂̽̑̑͋͆̏͋̅̏͗̄̍͘͝͠y̴̨̫͙͆̾̾̇̈̂̀̑̕͝o̶̧̨͖͓̤͓̗͚̗̠̼̖̙͔̞̘̦͑͆̒̀̽̎̈́̋͑̂͜͝u̴͕̼̙͖̲͕̤̮͙̔̆̎͗͊̂̃̋͋́̿͘̚͝͝ ̸̹̯̱̰̘͚͖̲̙̫̮͕̀i̴̪̼͚̊͆͋̄ ̵̢͓͇͓͍̣͓̩͆̇ͅh̵̩̮͒̀a̴̢̪͔̪̱̣͇͖̮͊́͆͗̀̌̽ͅť̵̢͉̥̹͉̺̻̜̂͗͜ḙ̶̪̬͇͎̯̹͉̬̣̯̆̈̂̄̎͝ ̸̧̨̡̡̗̺̯̬͖͚̖̻̞̣̫͉͍̈́̍̐̏̔̓̌͒̚ͅy̵͉̻̩̠̩̗͎͖͙̼̠̮͐̈̾͐o̸̧͋ŭ̶͍̬̗͓͓̺̲̖͉̰̝̯̜̳̖̟͍ ̵̛̼̣̃͐̈́͋͂̕͝ị̵̺̣͎̭̼̻͍̤̞̹͕̲̰̆͋̈͛̀͂͑̒̉͐̽̀̓͛͌̒̚ ̵̧̧̜͈̙̼͇̟̰͎͐̇̿̉̂̀̅͛́͗͒̆̚͜h̷̢̡̭͎̮͕͕͉͈̣̯̜̒͑̒͒̇͌̓̓̅̓̅͒̐͠͝ä̸̧̡̢͉̠͚̯̭̯͚̠̞̒̿̈́̃̓̅̓͂̇̃͌̑̐͘͘͝t̷̟̟̙̭̗̤̲͍̣̬̭̳̮̏́̅̏̃͂̐̂̿̄̌͑̉͠ͅȩ̵̡̧̡̛̥͈͉̺̘̮̩͎̦͇̖̯̑͛̅̍͛̍͐͒̋̅͌͘ ̶͎͇̻̪̀̊̐̿͂̈́͐̊̓̒͋̽͋̄͜͠͝ÿ̵̭́ở̵̗̩̻̐u̵͇̬̬̗̤͗̒͑ ̷͖̺͖̦̩͓̖̠̜͎̞́̓̌̚̚̕͠͠ȉ̸̢̪̼͈̗̼̼͙̇̈̒̈̈́̎̋͒̃̀̀̾̇̈͜͝ͅ ̴̙̱̠̹͈͎̲͓̻̫̮̗͚͈̲̹̫̻̈̄͂͆̑̋̽̿͛̀̂͜͠͝h̸̢̯̟͇̘͈̙̠̬̹̟̮̿͐͐͋͝a̸̢̡̢̛̫̺͉͇̦̲͔̞̝̻͈̜̥̥̺͛̈́̈́̃̓̚̕͝ͅt̵̲̥̞̖͖̭͖͑̇̍͋̍̅̆̾͒̚ͅe̴̪͕̬͎̠̣̬̯̥̩̮̲̥̎̓̊͋ͅ ̵͓̜͚̦̟̝͇̙̭̮̟̰̔͒̅͊̄̃̃̓͆̚͝͠y̴̪̩͚̦̪͋͊̈́̄́̽̔͗̑͒ó̵̧̡̧͈̗̱͕̐͐͂̓͆̏̇͂͝ư̴͙̽̈́̈̀̈́̑͆̄͒̇̀͂͑̆ ̸̨̢̧̛̛̛͓̜̪̼̜͖͈͔̗̦̖͎̒̄̒́͒͛͋̚͜ï̶͈̰̦̥̩͎̦̞̬̲̰͑͆̃̍̒ ̷̨̨̨̰̩͎̲̯̹̥̞̫̝̃̇̓̔̀̿̐̍̉̈̕͜͜͝͠h̷̢̛̙̹̻͎̓͐͂̑̎͊̂͊̆͛̆̚̚ä̷̻̮̼́̃̂́͛͋̆̒̚͝t̵̨̙̥̠̥͔͍̩̝̬̻̝̻̱̪͎̐̊̑̾̑́̔̉̿̽͊͜ë̴̢̛̯̤̹̰̳̯͇̜̳͖̣́͗̊̍̋́͂̔̑̕͜͝͝ ̸̡̢̙̣̱̫̞̭͕̭̱̦̰̹̞̌͂̇̈́̅́̍͆̃̾̑͠ͅẙ̶̘̜̎̅͊̆̓́̓̈͋̽̅͂͗͘͜͝o̶̡̼͕̣͕̠͐͒̃̇͑͑̈́͊̀̆̔́͋̈̿̑̍͜͝ú̸̡̡̦̪͓̫̲̝̩̖̰̰͕̘̥̹̝͉̐̇̈͗̌̌̃͊͋͋̎͋̈́̓͜͠ ̵̛̛͈̼̀̾̑͒̑̃̎́̄͌̚͘i̵̧̨͙͇̳̪̮̼̣̖̥̖͓͚̞̘͍͙̋̆͋̆ ̷̡̛̝̝̥̟̓͋́͗͊̎̓̎̋̓͗̓͂̈́̐͝͝h̴̛͕̱̙̺̊̓̿̋̌͛̈́̈́͗͑̉͗̀̓̚͜a̵͇͕̟̯̗̥̪̪̜̤̞̬̽̈́̀̑̉͐͘̕͜͠ț̶̡̨̛͓͙̳͚̘̫̹̰̭̩̣̻͔͕̰̭̐͗̾͋̑́̉̽̇̚ẽ̶̛͉̼̮̰͕͉̗̟̱͉̫͛̔̆͆̈̍̾̌ ̸̢̛̣̖͓̯̠̗̓̂͠͝ͅỵ̴̡̨̧̢̼͈͕̞͕̳̩̬̼͔̥̈̒͘ͅͅő̸̡̨̢̪͉̩̦͕͍̦͉̯̺̩͉̝͕̝͍͂̀̂̐͊̍͌͐̏́͝ǘ̸̢̠͚̗̣̙͕̺͈͉͒͐̊̓̔̈́͘͝ ̴̡̪̟̟̬̖͕̰̮̗̘̳̰̥̭͇͕͖̊̕i̶̡͙̦̗̼̞̗̙͙̐̈́̀̿̀̂͂͛̐̿͐̈́͌͘̚ͅͅ ̶̡̱̰̬̭͈̻̱̭͔̮͕̬̻͔̟̀͜͜h̵̡̢̛͚̜͇̤̳̦̯̮̻̟̬͉͈͑͗́̐̂͑̽͌̾̑͗͠a̷̡̢̝̪̖̪̗̩̦͙̻̠̯͙̻͕̺̜͖͆̓̿̓͊̉̚͠͠t̶̛̫͍͉̥̣̼̑͗̐͊̄̈̀̍͊̈́̎͒è̷͓͔̞̯̺̠͈̱̝̣͚̭̋̍͌̌̋̈́͒̓͛͒͘ͅ ̷̧̲̫̺͇̩̬̯̑̀̀̆͊͋̕̕͘͝ȳ̵̧̫̹̞͉̘͉̬̰͇̰̦̃̔̃̔̽̉̎̿̓̔͐̑̾̿̚͜͝͠͠ő̷̠ǔ̸̢̢͎̠̻̹̺̣̝́̀̃̇́̔̆͊̚̚ ̴̛͙̬͍̳̭̈͑͐́̔̓̋͘͠͝i̵̩͇̻̤͖͍̖̭͘ ̴̡̡̯̩̫̱̣̠̮̰͍̬͍̼̥̖̐͗̋̅̓͜ḩ̷̱̙̮̪̹̖̽̐͊a̴̛̪̝̔̈́̓̔̓̾̊̾͊͛͊̚t̵͙̱͎̦̱̜̺̃͒ͅe̸̺̙̗̥̹̹̜̤͎̩̘̣̠͎͕͛̽̽̓͛͊̽̊̈́͋́̅̕̕͘͝͝ ̸̛̛̦̗̭̲̉̐̑̒̑̀̿̄́̿̏̈́̒̕y̶͕̤͓̼̭͔͓͍̟͒̑̌̃̽̔̾̽̃̑́̒͂̈́̈́̔͠͝ơ̸̢͓͎̹͎̣͈̲̠̩̩̪̳̤̲͚͕͇̊͊̔̆͛͗̎̆̉̅̂͛̚ų̶̡̣͈̫̲̳̗͌̂̃̐̿͂ ̴̢̲͔̣̝̮̺̝͐̍̔͘ȋ̵̪̫̬̐̅̉̏̃̀͊͒̉ ̵̧̢̨̩͈͈͎̲͖̜̫̻̫̖̽͜ḩ̸͚̼̮̺͎̳̬̫͂̊̇̏̓̄̓̒ạ̶̢̣̠͈̖̙͌̃̈́̐̏̓͝ţ̸̺͚̝̰̗̝̺͉̫̻̬̣͍͖̑͗̎̌͜ͅę̷̡̛̠͕̹̺̜͙̣͎͈̯̜͍͔̩̀̈́͛̿͑̑͗̅̒̑̓̚ ̸̡̲̗̯͔͖͎͓̤̹̬̪̜͈̠͚̥͊͒̍̊͆̓͠ỳ̸̋́̋́̈́̆̔̇̆̏̓̾̈́͌̚̚ͅơ̸̬̣̝̦͔̟̖̖̩̲̟̪̺͎͕̹͐̅̈́̊͊̃ͅư̴̢̨̙͍͉̣̩̱̼̪̟̠̜̺̝͖̄̆̈́͛̊͊̎͂͒̂̏̅̐̃̈͘ ̶͙͖̘͙͉̻͇̲̐̓̈́̈̈́͗̆͐͐͊̌̀͝i̸̧̝̘̤̩͍͇̙̭̪̯̘͓̞̤̜͖͈̊̋̀̔̋̈̓̆̊̀̎̋ͅ ̷̬͇̥̘̓́̏̆́͐̔͝ḥ̶̢̪̝̲̜͍̥̣̬͉̤͎̞̺̭̙̎́͂̐̀̀̃͝a̸̮͙̹̰͙̮̳̾̌̎̒͆͊͊̀̊̇̑̕̕͝t̸̡̧̬̠̱̥̦͖̜̤̪͓͉̲̤̙̞͎̽̀̑̎̇è̸̼̻̂̎̃̌̆̏̓͛́́͊͝ ̷̛̛͉͓̜͖̭͚̯̜̻̪̠̟̈́̀͌̐̅͘͠͝y̸̨̛̜͚̭̹̩̤͎̮͍̫͔̫̝͖̽̀͌̈́̈̐̽̚̕o̴̳̠͙̞͈̫͕͈̭͠u̶̱̰̪̻̭͖̩̜͎͋͛̅̅̄́̀͊͂̃͑̚͘ ̵̧̻̬̥͖̻̃̌̇͘ĩ̷̢̜̼̬̻͙̙̤̗̟̳̯̬̙̳̜͇̆̔̀̆͜ ̶̨̛̮̙̜̹̮̘̳̼̗̋̓͌̓̌̽̓̔̃̿̐̈́̎͐̚͠͝ͅh̴̩͙̣̟̍͂͗͌̈́́̓̽ä̸̢̩͙̪̗̤̦̻̫̠̖͔́͌͒͒́͛́̄̕͘̕͜͠ţ̵̱̗͇̯̗̹̼̦̩̮̟̼͈̬̊̀̃̈́̃͊͜͠ę̸̦̹̲̞͖̘͈̺̠̠͓̀̈́̒͒͋͒̋̃̿̀̋̉͛͘ ̷̼̭̲̮͔̹̝̖̩̤͓͚͍̾̃̊̐̍̀̓͝͠͠y̷̨̫̹͐̑̒͋̎͒͐͆̑̿̅̈͂̚͝͠o̵̧̡̨̧̘̰̱̲͓͈̮͚͓̦͚̥͂̑̌̀ũ̸̧̧̝̱̥̹̙̱̦͉͇̈́̚ ̶̨͚̙͕̜̻̇̑̏̄͊̉̏î̸̛̻͎̪̬̀͊̄̐̀̑ ̵̻̼̹̣̤̫͖̜̪̥̬͚̗̼̰̝͙͍͒̑̿̒̔̆͐̏͐͌͛͜h̷̢̠͎̭̱͙̣̠̺̻͎̭̠͉̥̝͙̤̀͌͂̃̈́͆̇̂͂̀̽͛̈́̚͜͠ả̴̧̧̫̤̫̻̘̞͇̙̩͖͍̅̃͆̃̌̀͛͋̕͜͠ͅͅt̸̞̪̪̣͈̙̯͇͒̒̃̉͋͗͊̕͜͝ę̶̣̫̮͈̥̯̱͉̖̥͗̑͆͊̾̈́͌̈́̿͐͊͂͋̅͐̕͜͜͠ ̸̜̜̻͆͐̎̏̆̀̕ÿ̸̛͇͓̊͊̈́̑̆̃̊͛͘̚͠͝͝͝͝ǫ̶̰̼̟̙̳̮̘̊́͛u̸̹̜̦̼͙͉̜͔̟̮̙̯͛̈́͋͂̒͋͐̇͆̏̈̋̚͝ ̴̭̞̫̭̔̈́̋̈́̾͛͒̾̿͛͒̍͌͐̈͛̃͝͠ī̶͖̰̼̥̭͉̤̘̲̣̥̬̪͇͓̋̊̓͜͠ ̴̨̨̬̺̗̙̮̻͔̭͕͐̄̍̏͆̊͋̈́̓͗͊̎͐̔͘͝͝h̶̞̽͛͊̈̽̑́́͐̊͋̈̄̿́͂̎͊͘ą̴̯̖͖͈͍͈̟̻̔͆͐͆͆̎͗̆́̈́̎̀́̋̀͛̐͜͝͝ţ̶̛̫͉͚̫̩̝͉̘̝͓̬̮̞͑̽̈́̈́͋͑̂̏͝ͅe̷̼̭̮̻̝̔̋̃͂̑͜͝ ̷̨̛̛͓̟̪̞̤̯̙͌̿̍̓̀́̑͆̀̿̓̾͠ẙ̵͔̪͖̳̹͇̰͔̖̜͔͕͙͛̀̑ǫ̷̹̲̼͓̤͖̦̥̝̭̲̳͇̟̪̱͖̙̊̏̂̀̂̀͋̉͂̀̉͋͊̐͐͘̚͘ũ̴̡̢̳͖̪̭͈̯̫̙̺͖̳͇̖̟̍́̂ ̸̡̘̞̭̣̦̜̬̳͎̠͕͇͉̰̭̳̿́̄̃͋̇į̷̨̖͓͚͔̻̼̮̱̇̍̓̽̓̔̕ ̵̢̧̨̹͎̤̣͖͈͑̎̿̐̃̏̔͛̕͜h̶̨̠̥̹͈̠̣͉̭̞̲̩̰̳͍͕̽͌̾̾͋͑͋͋́͗̾͂̃̾̏͝ͅa̵̡͓̳̎́̈́̿̎̔̀́̈́̽͊̕͜͠ͅț̵̨̨͓͔̹̼̺͉͓̣̟̦̗̣̣̥̄̈́̊̽̿̈́e̴̡̟̗̮̩̝̟̘̦̪̒̈͛̽͠ ̷̧̧̥͍̯̣̩̞̀̒̂̀̌́̀̔́̇̓͝ẏ̷̻̻̭̙̳̥͙̰̼͙͇̺̫̭̱̆̐̊̉̂͆ǫ̶̧̝̮̖̺̠̲̣̩̰̖̬̞͍͇͎͊͗͛̔̄̔̎͊͑̈́̕ȗ̴̢̗͕̺̰͎̺̬̫̼̣̺̯̹͚͈̈́̍̂́̓̈́͂̈́̐͛̈́̈̿̏͘̕͜͜ ̴̧̨̰̮̣͎͍͇͉̗͓͓͑͆̈̃̏̆̿̐̽̋͆̌͆̿͑̔̒̅͠ȉ̶̝̰͍̖͚̬̺̼̥͍̲͇̳͖͚͓̳̞͊̽͆́͝ ̵̺̤̖̣̬̬̲̜̍͐̿h̴̦̲̝͇̖̠̣͍̭̳̻̓̊̀̾̽̇̋̓̑͆̏͜ȧ̷̛͇͚̲̹̘̻̪̹̻̞̼̬̱͓̞t̴̨̢͔̞͖̲̠̭̺̙̗̯͎͐̂͑̊̀́̃͌͑͜é̴̢͙̲̻̟̟͇̍̀ ̷̧̦̞͕͚̱̫̫͓̦̎y̴̹̥̠͕͚̭̖̝̲̪͇̙̤̰͖̬̯̝̮̎͐̽̄ơ̴̤͈̬̜̙̎̀̓̏͌̈u̴͈͍͙͓̬͙̬̻̔ ̸͔̰͚̳̦̞̺̜͖͈͓͉̱̟̳̮̈́͑͜ͅi̶̹̩͇̥̥͆̉̽̈́̅

̸̨̢̢̦̺͖̦͉̖̼̘͈͔͈̩̮̩͒̄̏̽̆ḫ̸̨̢͉̞̙͕̞̬͇͈̗̱̝̜̜͕͛͌͐̌̄̈́͠à̷̛̲͔̺̬̿̀͐̓͋̔̕͝͝t̶͍̲̬̟̝̟͓̖̘́͂̋̐̽̈́͋̀̏͜͜ȇ̵̞͍̲̻̳̯͍̤̰̥̘̯̮̣͒́̾ ̴̬̟͓̺̠̮̭̗̱̪͓̹͇̏̉̾̍̈́̍̔̀͛̉͂̉̋͐̑̕̚͘͜ͅy̷̡̭̤̙̜͍̰͉̹̘̱̅̏̑͆̉̓̅̚͜ͅȯ̷̺̮̦̼͙̪̜̹̤̃̐̓̇̀͐̿͋̍̆́͐̕͘͠͝ǔ̶̡̢̡͖̦̯̩͕͙̙̦͗̅͌̐̋̓͝͝ͅ ̷̡͔̞̦͍̭̞̻̞͚͌͆͋͑̃́̿́̈́i̷̧̢̛̲̤̟͔̫̝̺̥̬͚͉̥͔̥̔̈̊̿̏̎́͗̄̎̓̊̽̚͜͝ ̴̢̨̧̥͓̝̭̖̮̉̐h̶͕̝̲̪̖̲̹͙̱͈͌͋͊́̈́̄̚̚ả̵͕̋̓̄̓̈́̐̆̓ţ̵̲͚̞͎̗̫̘̗͕͚̳̮̣̠̤͈̠͙̄͗̓́̎́̃ȩ̵̗̬͕̺̠̖̋̒̃͌́̐͗̚͝͝ ̴̮͖̭̬̠͓̩̙̹͙̼̙̠̦̩̪̯̜̈́́̽̈́̑̌̐̓́̄̓͋͛̀̂͘͜y̶̧̡̨͓̥͔̯̦̫̯̻̠͚̟̘͇̥̟͌̋̆́̒̈́͘͝ͅö̸̡͉̲̖̜̰̼̬͋͛̔͗ũ̴̦͈̆̾̀͋̔ ̵̮̩̜̝̬̼̦̐̉̏̐̂͋̎͑͆̔͆͊̆̐̆͜

--

zoey.

you were rather intimidated by her, but then again, who wouldn't be? her gaze was sharp, she was the type of beauty that could whip a knife at your neck with only a smirk and you'd be dead. you gulp, feeling the nervousness for nikki arise to a near tenfold, and you whisper many " good luck" to her each time she is to approach zoey.

but she isn't that bad, far from it. she seems to see nikki in just as a precious way as you do, and you are ever so grateful she can also see that herself. but neither does she coddle her or try to sugarcoat anything that is expected of her. you can at least appreciate that of zoey.

but you still cannot trust her. she is involved with the shady underbelly. her very work itself put nikki in hot water and in a life or death situation where she near gave into desire itself. that in itself painted a target on nikki's back and you had to deal with the aftereffects and panics of nikki thereafter. so you cannot help but warn her to keep her distance and to stay safe around the sharp-eyed zoey. this time, she agrees, maintaining a friendly smile while still remaining distant.

" she's pretty but-"

you pause, taking a glance at zoey who calmly sits, sipping away at a drink whose name you've forgotten. your nose scrunches up at the stench of alcohol - you've never really liked it. it burned your throat.

and it didn't have a good place in your memories.

" stay away from her."

zoey pauses, her eyes shifting until they land on nikki. a smile - it looks odd on someone as stoic and sharp as her - is spread on her deep-red lips. you shudder, almost feeling her gaze burn over you, but she goes back to sipping at the glistening glass, burning alcohol swishing inside.

you lean your head on nikki's shoulder and sigh. you want to go home already.

" i'd let her step on me thou-"

nikki chokes, coughing as her face heats up. zoey looks over, concern splashed across her features as the pinkette tries to deflect any worry from her. you snicker; teasing her is much too fun.

but you weren't lying about the whole thing.

--

mercury.

the man behind it all. the one who was the criminal mastermind. the one who had it all.

you hated him. you nearly hated him just as much as you did qin yi. you wished to pulverize him and grind up what was left of him and scatter it all over.

that way he'd never hurt nikki or anyone again.

" nikki...c'mon...let's go-" you shakily say, trying to reach her with your voice, anything. she doesn't budge, her amber eyes locked onto his. you whimper, wanting to leave as soon as possible.

she has a gun.

' shit shit shit shit shit shit '

you mentally panic, trying to find any way to get nikki to snap out of it before shit really hits the fan. you can feel your breath growing faster, fear and panic spreading through your body. but you try and grip yourself down, desperate to have the nikki you love by your side.

not this cold-hearted woman whose gaze turns your blood to ice.

mercury.

you turn your head to meet his gaze. he's still staring at nikki, eyes unblinking and face as solid as stone. you grit your teeth, eyes glaring as hard as they can. " you fucking son of a bitch," you hiss through clenched teeth. " i hope you fucking die," you swear you can feel a vein burst somewhere, but you're too full of exhausting and mixed emotions to even truly care.

when nikki collapses, you whirl around, rushing to her side and calling out her name. your gut horribly twists from panic. she looks scared, uncertain, and-

she looks ready to cry.

when the police invade the area with their presence, you lose nikki in their swarm. you can feel her, but you can't see her. you can only see a familiar shade of dirty blonde hair and-

the disgusting shade of silvery hair the stirs in the air. you damn near snarl, so close to mercury you're practically gagging. " if anything happens to her-"

he blinks, gaze shifting off to the side - where you stand.

" i'll fucking kill you."

you can see a disgusting smile spread across his thin lips. it was an attractive smile, but it made you sick and pissed.

you see the familiar smile of loen, and your mood almost instantaneously brightens. you sigh a breath of relief, happy to see the goober of a mercenary. you can at least tolerate his presence. he leads nikki out the engraved doors, into the city, and away from the prison-like building. you follow, before turning back to where mercury stands, still watching like a sick predator.

" this isn't over you bastard," you spit, before running after where loen and nikki stand.

he smiles.

--

"...what...?"

your lips tremble as you stare into their eyes, your body seizing up as panic ensues. they either don't notice or they simply find it amusing. you feel horrible all over, this can't be happening right? this is just a dream. yeah, it's a dream. they can't see you, it's impossibl-

" so did you mean it?"

" huh...?" your voice cracks - you feel so many emotions all at once.

" did you mean all those you said about me before?" they question, not loosening their grip on your arm one bit.

fuck.

now you remember what you said.

every. single. word.

and every. single. emotion.

" i-i...you.." you want to punch yourself for losing your composure and sounding like a weak child. but who could blame you? you'd had no one but nikki and momo to rely upon and converse with all this time. now suddenly they could see, touch and hear you.

nikki...where's nikki?

you glance around the corners out of your eyes, trying to find that familiar shade of pink through everything. you pray to whatever for nikki to come for you, to come and find the voice of her companion before this can escalate any further.

" she's not here," they simply say, nonchalantly like you had just asked them for the weather. you can feel your heart shrivel up and die. nononono, she should be here right now, you really need her for fuck's sake!

" you didn't answer my question y'know," they hum, gently smiling like they'd just received a compliment. they continue," i didn't know you thought of me in such a way," they chuckle," and who knew you had such a," they pause, eyes drifting up as they try to come up with their next words. "...colorful mouth. haha, who knew."

you tug at your arm, now at least having the sense to try and run away, but they only merely smile, pulling back as a silent warning - or threat, you can't tell anymore with them.

"...let go..." your murmur, looking down at your feet - anywhere other than them. they go silent, before answering. " now why would i do that? this is such an occasion," they let out a breath," and you said many wonderful things about me."

you feel like screaming.

they stand up straight, before gesturing behind them.

" let us discuss this over some food, shall we?"

you can feel your sanity break right there and then.

#lati speaks #°u° anon #this hurt to write holy crap #shining nikki

[imasimpforshanks]

hiii, how are you? may i ask angst alphabet for Ace? thank you ❤️

Angst Alphabet - Portgas D. Ace

a/n: hi hi!! here you go! OMG angst is still really hard LOL I don’t want to think about their rough life 😔😔😔😔😔 ANYWHOOOOO thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy<3

warnings: on the letter S there is mention of self harm

A-Accident (would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?)

Ace would definitely blame himself. He’s always thought he was a no-good demon child, son of a criminal that didn’t deserve to be alive (despite finding people that truly cared and loved him). You dying in an accident and him not being able to do anything about it would just reinforce what he already thinks of himself.

Regardless of your cause of death he is likely to attribute it to your association with himself, and because of that he will think it is entirely his fault, even if he wasn’t present at the time of your death.

B-Break up (How would they break up with you?)

His lessons with Makino really helped him develop manners and just a general sense of acceptable behaviour. So, Ace would just be clear and up front, no mixed messages, no miscommunication. He would take you some place quiet and away from others, and then he would be as honest and vulnerable as possible – it’s the least you deserve. The break-up would be very civil, you would definitely end on good terms (doesn’t make it any less sad though).

C-Crying (how would they make you cry?)

Sometimes Ace can take his teasing a little too far. Usually you can handle it, but there are just some days where his words cut deeper than ever intended (even if they have no malice behind them). It’s not his fault you’re having a bad day, or not realizing you are having a bad day. It’s just one of those things that happens sometimes. As soon as you start to cry though, he apologizes and reassures you so much, to make sure you known he doesn’t mean it and he’s only playing around.

D-Death (how would they react to your death?)

It would start out with a lot of confusion, like “what t-that must be some kind of a sick joke. H-how… w-what… they wouldn’t just die like that.” After it really sinks in that you have in fact died, Ace will just get angry. I don’t see him as much of a crier (spoiler alert – we only see him truly allow himself to cry on two occasions 1) when luffy got crazy hurt as a child and 2) when ace was on deaths door), so I believe he would react with anger.

Regardless of your cause of death (natural causes, accident, died in battle etc.) Ace would be unbelievably angry with himself, the world and you. He would be angry at himself for being unable to save you, someone he cares about and loves deeply. He would be angry at the world and whatever higher being there may be for choosing now to be your time. There are so many horrible, horrible people in the world, yet you had to die? It makes no sense. Lastly, he would be angry at you. Not a genuine anger but more so a “how could you just leave me like this? We were meant to be together forever.”

E-Emotion (what is one emotion they would try to hide the most and how would they do it?)

I think Ace tends to try his sadness. He tries to put on a brave face, not wanting anyone to see him cry as he doesn’t want to be viewed as weak or be even more of a burden on others.

F-Fight (how often do you fight? What do you fight about? Do you fight often? Etc.)

Fights with Ace, although they don’t happen often, can quickly get out of hand. He’s stubborn and his inability to accept that he’s not always right can cause a minor disagreement to escalate into an all-out fight. On a few occasions you have argued about him never turning his back on an opponent.

Your fights tend to be followed by cooldown time. Things can get quite heated (no pun intended) so you need some alone time and space to breathe. After that though, you comeback together and apologize.

G-Guilt (what is the biggest thing they feel guilty about?)

For his entire life, Ace has lived with the guilt of simply existing. He doesn’t think himself worthy of being alive. Can you blame him? It’s all anyone ever told him growing up. Despite eventually finding people who loved him for him, those feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness still remain and continue to plague his mind.

H-Heartbreak (what would cause them pain in the relationship? How would they deal during a break-up?)

During a break-up Ace is quiet. He doesn’t want to be around anyone or anything. He wants to be left completely alone so he can sort out his thoughts and feelings. He’d be quite devasted because he’s had so few people in his life love him on as deep a level as you did.

I-Injured (how would they react if you are badly injured?)

Ace would absolutely lose it if you were injured. He’d be concerned, upset, and angry all at once. First things first, he needs to know if you are going to be ok. Once that’s been established, he’ll be upset at himself for allowing this to happen. This will be replaced by the pure anger he feels at whoever, or whatever, caused this.

J-Jealousy (what do they do if they are jealous?)

When he gets jealous he turns into such a man child. He’s pouting and moping around while mumbling to himself. He develops quite a petty attitude. If you were to ask him “want to go get something to eat?” he’d respond with “why don’t you just go and ask ____ for some food.” But, as soon as you begin commenting on how jealous he’s acting he’s going to deny it to the end of his days.

K-Kill (would they kill for revenge?)

Ace literally hunted down Blackbeard so he could get revenge on him for killing Thatch. It’s not certain whether or not Ace had the intention of killing Blackbeard, however, he definitely had both the spirit and anger to go through with killing him. So, it is possible that Ace would kill for revenge. However, for the most part, he would prefer to just beat them senseless.

L-Loss (what is their greatest loss?)

Either Sabo or his mother’s death, would be considered Ace’s greatest loss. His mother died when he was a new-born, so he doesn’t particularly remember, or know, anything about her other than the fact that she was a kind wonderful woman. However, the loss of Sabo is something he remembers vividly. Losing Sabo had a major impact on Ace. It was an unfortunate wake up call as to how awful the world truly is.

M-Mistake (what is the worst mistake they ever made with you?)

One night, after a particularly bad day filled with a horrible series of events, Ace was letting off some steam (quite literally I suppose). Messing with his devil fruit power, throwing some flames around. He hadn’t noticed your presence and so his flames nearly burnt you. He was horrified, and he only felt worse after he noticed the pure terror in your eyes.

N-Nightmares (how often do they have them? What are they about? How do they deal with it?

Ace has nightmares frequently, they vary, but they all have the same underlying theme, that is, the people in his life don’t actually care about him and only view him the same way everyone else views the son of the pirate kind – a worthless devil with no right to life. He wakes up from his dreams in a sweat and finds himself in desperate need of fresh air (ya know to try and clear his mind). He ends up just sitting out on the deck of the Moby Dick looking up at the sky trying to tell himself it was all a dream. But his insecurity and self-doubt begin to resurface and soon he can’t discern imagination from reality. However, the moment someone else on the crew even speaks to Ace with something as simple as a “morning dude” he’s brought back down to earth and thinks to himself “no that’s right…. They love me… I wouldn’t be here right now if they didn’t.”

It’s a vicious cycle, but in the end, he manages to remember (even if it’s just for a little bit) that he is cherished.

O-Outrage (how and why would they get mad at you?)

When you continuously tell him there’s no need to stay and fight every single opponent. It’s okay to turn and runaway – in fact it’s safer to do that. When you say that he feels as though you don’t understand him. He’s not some careless, impulsive child who’s just looking for a fight (okay maybe he is a little bit). So he doesn’t really get super angry, it’s more so that he is frustrated and a little upset that you don’t try to see it from his perspective.

P-Past (what has happened in your relationship that changed the way you saw each other?)

It’s the same as the worst mistake he’s ever made with you – nearly burning you with his devil fruit. It made you realize that Ace can actually be quite dangerous (although you know he would NEVER hurt you intentionally). It made Ace realize that he needs to be more careful, the look of pure terror in your eyes has stayed with him ever since that incident, serving as a reminder.

Q-Quality (what is their most dangerous/toxic quality?)

His tendency to not back down from a fight is simultaneously his most endearing and toxic trait. He constantly places himself in dangerous situations with minimal concern for his own safety.

R-Rejection (how would they react to you rejecting their confession (or the other way around))

Having his confession rejected by you was definitely a blow to his self-esteem, but he respected and accepted your feelings. Instead of moping around about it he decides to laugh it off, trying to make light of a slightly disappointing situation.

S-Scars (battle or self-inflicted)

Ace does not have any scars, battle related or self-inflicted.

TW self-harm: I do think ace got worryingly close to self-harming, but Sabo and Luffy made him rethink it all.

T-Trust (have they ever broken your trust?)

The one and only time Ace broke your trust was after Blackbeards betrayal. You made him promise to take you with him when he left to hunt down Blackbeard because you didn’t want him to go alone. He promised but he had no intention of keeping that promise.

U-Urge (how badly do they want to see you after you guys separated?)

For a while Ace manages to get by by keeping himself preoccupied. But as soon as he lets up for even a minute, he realizes how much he misses you and is beyond tempted to just sail on back to wherever you are and tackle you to the ground plastering your face in lil kisses. When he’s not distracted, he really does miss you a lot. He hyper-fixates on what you could be doing at this very moment, whether or not you miss him too etc.

V-Vicious (what do they do when they lash out on you?)

When ace gets mad, he tends to get very loud. He raises his voice quite a lot and it becomes very, very frightening. He would never physically hurt you, but the anger and frustration in his voice is more than another to scare the shit out of you.

W-Weak (what makes them feel weak how do they try to avoid it?)

Constantly being reminded or associated with the Pirate King. Maybe it doesn’t make him feel weak, but it makes him feel horrible inside and stirs up a lot of feelings and remarks people would make when he was younger. Unfortunately, once word gets out there isn’t much Ace can do to stop this from happening, however, before this, Ace avoided this by not telling ANYONE. He only told Luffy and Sabo, with a very small handful of others knowing (i.e Garp).

X-X-ray (what do they hate and show it most obviously?)

He hates turning his back on a fight or turning his back on people that talk shit about those he cares about. This is seen during the Marineford arc. He doesn’t let Akainus words about Whitebeard slide. He doesn’t runaway. He has no tolerance for that shit.

Y-Yearn (what is one thing that they want but can’t have?)

Ok this may be dark as hell but, Ace just wants to not feel like a burden to the world. He wants to be viewed as something different/separate from his father, but he can’t change history.

Z-Zero (what do they do/say in your dying moments?)

He doesn’t let you go. He’ll hold on to you until he is forcefully separated from your body. He just starts to spout a lot of nonsense – things don’t make sense at all, but he can’t help it right now. He can’t think properly when you’re about to leave him. He just wants you to stay.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #portgas d ace #angst alphabet #one piece alphabet #portgas d ace x reader #fire fist ace

[alatismeni-theitsa]

I have no idea when you posted asking about the experiences of Greek diaspora / Greek heritage but I just saw it so I thought I’d send in my stuff.

I am so disconnected from it because my grandma didn’t want to pass the language into her children so she could have adult conversations they wouldn’t understand. And she didn’t pass on the culture because her husband was Jehovah’s Witness. And so I just feel an intense feeling of grief over a culture that I’m apart of but know very little about. I have some recipes my Yiayia made, a cookbook by women from the Greek Orthodox Church in NYC, and two lullaby’s. (We lived in the US with my great grandma so we had more interaction with Greek culture than our cousins who’s lived with my grandma in Ireland)

And there’s not much out that I’ve found where I’ve been able to learn about my culture and not felt like I’m intruding. Especially because I don’t “look Greek” like some of the other greek kids at my school. I look Irish. I don’t have a Greek name and I don’t speak any of the language. The only way I’ve found to connect is through food but I’m limited to the cookbook because if you look online it’s hard to find recipes that aren’t just trendy mediterranen inspired health food. My mum is starting to reluctantly tell me a little about my family from Greece. And my grandmas cousin and her family is very very greek. So if I fly down to see her she’ll teach me stuff (though she’s the matriarch of the family so she’s pretty intimidating). Anyway. That’s my experience with my my greek heritage.

I just sent the long-ass ask about Greek heritage but I forgot the bit where I was Greek enough to get bullied over Greek food. Yay. Dolmades are good though I don’t care if they “look little poop”

___________________[END OF ASK] __________________________

Hey and sorry for the delay 💙 I asked some time ago but that doesn't mean newer answers aren't welcome anytime!

Dear, I am grieving with you for the loss 😔 I can't say the reasons the language wasn't passed on seem very logical to me. There are things that didn't get passed on to me because my grandparents thought I would automatically know, or they didn't bother teaching, so I can relate to that feeling 😔

You are definitely NOT intruding! I can understand why it feels this way after what you told me, but it seems to me you have every right to know! Greek culture welcomes anyone from Cameroon to Japan, so, realistically, nothing should stop you from having access to it. Plus, it's your own family!

Oh damn, the "I don't look Greek" plague 😩 As everyone knows there's no specific qualifier of appearance for being part of Hellenismos. On this particular occasion, I'll go one step further and say that, unless you have raid hair, you probably look like a lot of Greeks.

There are Greeks whose appearance is rare for this ethnicity, but "looking Irish" is a thing that 1/4 (at least?) of Greek people relate to. One thing Greeks of diaspora often hear is that "they don't look Greek enough", aka they look "too white". Your surrounding Greeks might not look like you but if you go through my tag #Greek people, which has hundreds of videos, portraits, and photos of Greeks from all eras, you might realize you look like many Greeks.

There are Greeks whose appearance is rare for this ethnicity, but "looking Irish" is a thing that 1/4 (at least?) of Greek people relate to. One thing Greeks of diaspora often hear is that "they don't look Greek enough", aka they look "too white". Your surrounding Greeks might not look like you but if you go through my tag #Greek people, which has hundreds of videos, portraits, and photos of Greeks from all eras, you might realize you look like many Greeks.

Again, appearance doesn't matter in the slightest when it comes to culture, but I sensed your appearance issue was the flavor of "too white looking" and it's the most infuriating thing to me because many, many Greeks look "too white looking" for the standards foreigners have made for them!

Anyways, on to the food! I am so happy you are trying some of the recipes :D (And that you are doing everything to connect to your heritage if it brings you joy!) How dare they speak badly about dolmades??? 😭 Many countries close to Greece also have that dish and we must find them so we can have a dolmades alliaaaaanceee!

I'd also like to add, don't feel pressured to get too much into the culture if you don't want to. Many Greeks in Greece keep different types of distance from their tradition and that should also be your right. Again, do and learn whatever pleases you! Just keep in mind that you are valid in your current state without going the extra mile to learn every Greek thing possible.

People across the globe can have various degrees of Greek heritage and if that "amount" of heritage is "less" then it's okay and natural because it's what happens when people immigrate. The more generations pass, the more this old part is left behind. For example, many Greeks in Greece can also come from other backgrounds (Austrian, Egyptian, Slavic (various countries), etc) and they, too have many parts of their older heritages lost. They practice Greek customs almost exclusively now.

There's a cultural plane that shifts all the time in countries around the world and families assimilate to a new culture as they adapt to a new place. At this moment you are also part of a US regional culture and there is no shame in *also* identifying as part of it. That won't erase any Greek part of you.

The above doesn't aim to discourage you in any way on searching more about Greek culture! It's only a general disclaimer. People from inside a culture (usually in diaspora) tend to judge those who participate less, as if any person with X heritage is in a place to keep the same amount of touch with it 🙄

Sure, tradition is very important but nobody should be forced to practice it if they don't want to - or if they just can't. Tradition is people, and some traditions change or die naturally because many individuals from the inside wanted it to.

It's hard being caught in between - not "American enough" and not "Greek enough". The paradox is that you must first feel secure in this position. Granted, it's easier said than done but mentally it will save you the mindset of needing to be "more American" or "more Greek". As you understand, you don't need to feel apologetic to Americans for who you are, and you don't need to feel apologetic to Greeks in America or anywhere else for the exact same reason.

Some Greeks of diaspora feel distressed about their accents in Greek (or they don't want to admit they have an accent) or for not being perceived as Greeks automatically by other Greeks when they visit the country. But that's unavoidable because these differences exist and people raised in Greece can spot them. Therefore, people in the US whom you are afraid might feel superior to you for knowing more things about Greece, may come to Greece and feel like foreigners.

So they shouldn't make this a race beacuse it's not one they would normally "win" by their own standards. Chances are, after you learn anything you can, you will also have distance from what is considered the "default" Greek culture. It's part of the organic process of time + distance from the country, and Greeks with half a brain won't look down on you for that.

What I mean to say is that there is no certain bar an ordinary person can ever pass to be given any prize of the "ultimate Έλληνας". Not even Greeks in Greece know where that bar is when it comes to their own touch with tradition. There is no golden standard, no finishing line!

I encourage you to continue your journey on learning Greek things and while you are at it, know that objectively you have nothing to prove to anyone, even though you might feel otherwise. I say, fly to your grandma's cousin and let her teach you stuff!

You know that the intimidating demeanor Greek aunties and grandmas have doesn't necessarily reflect their love for you. You might also know that older Greeks are more reserved in showing appreciation. And in the hypothetical scenario where they don't really like you that much, they are still bound to you because you are family, so feel free to use their expertise 👀 If they don't give their knowledge to their family, whom are they going to give it to?? The neighbor??

If they throw any shade at you for now knowing enough take a deeeeeep breath, remember this isn't a race, and continue learning from them. (And you will feel the Greek experience of not deemed worthy enough by your relatives 😂 It's a win win!) If you haven't, check the poem Ithaca by K.P. Kavafy! I think it applies to this situation in a way!

You can always come here and browse thousands of posts about Greece! (In the Desktop version the most important show up on the left of the main page). I have #modern Greece #Greek custom #Greek tradition #Greek dance #Greek cuisine #Greek literature and whatever else your heart desires!

If you want to slowly learn Greek, Greekpod 101 and Easy Greek channels on YouTube have great content! I also have my tag #learn Greek on this blog with sources and explanations. (#Greek language and #Greek word can also be useful!) They are all accessible to English speakers!

You now have a distant Greek auntie who is at your disposal for any type of question (even the "stupid" questions)! Literally, ask me anything and I will try to answer it or find more info for you! You can DM me if you don't want to leave an ask. You are not intruding and it's my pleasure to help!

#thank you for your message <3 #it's hard for me to give tone in text - i hope i wasnt too intimidating either :p #the blog is here for your questions about greece so dont hesitate to ask! #answered #greek diaspora #greeks in the us #greek speaks

[rynnrose]

CASTLETON [PART FOURTEEN]

You honestly can’t remember the last time you were this excited for something. Sure, it was nice to see your friends at the end of the summer, and you’d even been looking forward to attending your last Welcoming Feast, but none of those things could compare to this. It’s been so long since you’ve gotten to focus on anything other than war and destruction that you’ve almost forgotten the rush of adrenaline that overwhelms you before every game. After a year of little more than pain, suffering, and quite literally fighting for your life, you welcome the sensation with open arms.

The match isn’t set to start for another ten minutes, and already you can hear the chanting in the stands. Nearly every student in the school has come out to see you play, if Hooch is to be believed, and you can’t wait to give them a show. The first Quidditch game of the year is always an ordeal, particularly whenever your house is involved. Part of you wishes that you’d been pitted against Gryffindor — they always give you a run for your money, though you’d rather die than tell them that — but given the hostility between the snakes and lions, you suppose competing against them would only make things worse. Still, you hope things calm down soon; you owe Ginny and Jungkook a good game.

You didn’t realize how much you’d missed this until you started practicing again. It was easy to get lost in the drama at Hogwarts, particularly in the past few years. Even you and your friends weren’t immune, no matter how badly you tried to stay out of the conflict. Between Harry and the DA and Umbridge and Voldy, there’s been precious little time to focus on the things you actually love — and by god, how you love Quidditch.

It’s been five years since you joined the team, and you still get butterflies every time you step out onto the pitch. Growing up among Muggles obviously hadn’t given you much opportunity to familiarize yourself with broom riding, but you’d fallen head over heels for it the moment you walked into your first flying class. It was the only subject you’d never struggled in, simply because it came so naturally to you. Hooch singled you out as a potential player as soon as she saw you take to the sky. The majority of your first year was spent cooped up in the library reading about rules and regulations, famous players, and even the origins of the sport. You were obsessed with the idea of being on the team. Naturally, when you were accepted second year, you were overjoyed.

It was your enthusiasm for the game that got Hobi and Yoongi involved. They’d spent so much time listening to you rant about it that they finally caved in and decided to try out third year — and funnily enough, discovered that they had quite the knack for it as well. None of you were particularly sporty, but you excelled where Quidditch was concerned. You and Hobi were Slytherin’s star Beaters, quicker than lightning when it came to keeping the Bludgers off of your team (and knocking them towards the rival players). Yoongi fit quite nicely into the Seeker position, what with his lithe frame and keen eyes. The three of you were the most skilled players on the team by the time fifth year rolled around; perhaps you’re a bit biased, but you’d wager that you’re the best in the entire school.

Being promoted to captain came as a bit of a shock, but you like to think you’ve done rather well in the time since you were given the position. Your teammates have never performed better, and though you’re all absolutely exhausted when practice ends, you know that you stand one hell of a chance of winning the cup this year. As much as they like to tease you, Hobi and Yoongi have attributed their improvement to you over and over again, citing your patience and determination as the driving force behind the entire team. You’ll never admit it, but their praise is perhaps the only thing that has kept you sane since the promotion.

Well...perhaps not the only thing.

You hadn’t been able to stop yourself from combing the stands for Taehyung as you made your way to the locker room. As much as you’ve tried to brush off your excitement, you can’t help but grin at the thought of him watching you play. Something about that boy — and you’re no closer to figuring it out now than you were the day you met him — gets you flustered like no one else in the world. Fortunately, you’re quite certain you have the same effect on him.

You haven’t spoken a word of this to your friends, of course; they’ve done a good enough job of teasing you on their own without adding fuel to the fire. They have the best of intentions (you think), but not a day has gone by since you met Taehyung wherein they haven’t taunted you mercilessly over the blue-haired boy. It’s the first time your love life has ever been a topic of conversation among your group, and while you used to hate that no one had ever seriously caught your interest, you’re suddenly grateful that you never had to put up with this before. One more smirk from Hobi and you’re quite certain you’re going to punch him in the jaw.

It seems a bit hypocritical of him to tease you about your “boyfriend” when you still know next to nothing about his own. All he’s told you is the basics, insignificant details that could apply to about three hundred guys in your year: brown hair, brown eyes, bright smile, glasses. You have your suspicions, of course — you’re nothing if not perceptive — but without any confirmation from him, you’re left to fumble in the dark trying to connect the dots. For all your complaining, though, you understand why he’s kept it under wraps. Anyone caught fraternizing with a Slytherin right now is just asking for trouble; he doesn’t want his lover anywhere near the whole situation, and you suppose you can understand that.

Still, you can’t stop yourself from taunting him when he strolls over and leans against the locker at your side.

“Is your secret boyfriend gonna make an appearance today?”

Your words have him narrowing his eyes. He doesn’t mean it, of course, but if you were anyone else, you might have cowered under his gaze. Hobi can embody Slytherin intimidation when he needs to, particularly where you and the boys are concerned. Most students would freeze in place if he looked at them the way he’s looking at you now. All you can do is chuckle.

“He might,” he relents with a barely-suppressed smile. Your own lips quirk upward when you notice the small glimmer of happiness in his irises. “What about yours? Can we expect a blue-haired supporter on the Hufflepuff side of the pitch?”

You scoff and shove him away from you with a sneer. He cackles maniacally, already having far too much fun at your expense. It’s not the first time he’s taken pleasure in your anger, though you know he would sooner dive to the bottom of the Black Lake than risk actually upsetting you. The man’s quite literally risked his life for you before; you sincerely doubt he would go out of his way to genuinely hurt you. Still, he seems to have a great deal of fun at your expense. You’d be offended if you didn’t do the exact same thing to him.

“If you must know, yes,” you tell him. “I...I asked him to come watch.”

His eyes widen at that. You just know he’s got some kind of sarcastic comment rising in the back of his throat, but you raise your hand to silence him before he can even get a word out. The last thing you need right now is to worry about Taehyung (even if he’s come to occupy your thoughts more and more the past few days). You can deal with your best friend’s taunts most days, but not now, when you’ve got a game to win in a few minutes.

He sighs and raises his hands in surrender, though it’s not hard to guess what’s going through that oversized head of his. It seems that you and Taehyung are all he talks about these days. You don’t know what his fascination is, but you sincerely hope he finds a new topic of conversation soon. You might hex him if he doesn’t.

Before he can speak again, you cup your mouth with your hands and call out to the rest of the locker room occupants. “Alright, people! Gather up!”

Your teammates cease their playful shoving and turn their attention to you. The seven of you migrate to the center of the room with ease, just as you’ve done a thousand times before. Light laughter echoes off the walls as you huddle up and toss your arms around each other, Hobi to your left and Yoongi to your right. Slytherins try to avoid sentimentalism when they can help it — you typically have far more important things to worry about — but there are some traditions even you pay homage to. You suspect the other houses would be shocked to learn that you take the time to psych each other up before each game. They’ve never been particularly open-minded when it comes to you.

“Okay,” you begin in the most sincere voice you can muster, “this is it. The past year has been nothing but chaos and despair, but we’re finally back. The Hufflepuffs probably think we’ve gone rusty. Are you gonna prove them right?”

The whole team calls out in unison, brows furrowed in concentration. “No!”

“Are you gonna let them beat us?”

“No!”

“Hell no. We’ve been waiting for this day since the end of fifth year. You guys have put your hearts and souls into this team, and I’ll be damned if I let us lose after all the work we’ve done. It doesn’t matter if the whole school’s rooting against us. You guys have yourselves, you have each other, and you have me. Forget about the Gryffindors, the Ravenclaws, even the Hufflepuffs. We’re Slytherins, and we don’t lose. On three.”

The lot of you outstretch your hands, grinning like idiots when they land on top of each other in the middle of the circle. Your smile is the largest of them all. You can’t deny how much you’ve missed this, the overwhelming sense of camaraderie among your fellow players. It isn’t often that you allow yourself to dedicate yourself so entirely to something (aside from your pranks, of course), but when you’re in, you’re all in. You and Yoongi playfully bump each other’s shoulders when your hands meet. You start the countdown with a smirk.

“One, two, three!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

The horn sounds as soon as the chant ends, signaling the beginning of the match. You and your teammates grab your brooms and make for the pitch entrance, practically bouncing with excitement. Hobi and Yoongi flank you on either side. You don’t need to look at them to know that they’re smiling just as widely as you. The three of you (and Jungkook) had spent most of the summer practicing in Yoongi’s backyard, but to be here now, preparing to step out onto the field and play your last first match ever, is almost surreal. You’ll never say it out loud, but you’re glad to have them by your side.

The team steps out onto the field together, grinning ear to ear despite the cacophony of boos you’re met with. Three of the four houses are jeering and shouting at you, though this is not at all unusual. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs are being a bit more subtle about it, but Gryffindor has spared no expense in taunting you. Even from here you can see their homemade signs, most of which bear crude drawings of badgers eating snakes and other unpleasant depictions of your house symbol. You suspect that McGonagall attempted to confiscate them before the game began, but even she isn’t vigilant enough to stop them all. Honestly, they would have found a way to taunt you no matter what.

The majority of the positive feedback comes from the Slytherin section, where your housemates are clapping and cheering as loud as they can to try and drown out the noise. It’s nothing compared to the shouts from the other sections, but you appreciate the effort nonetheless. You aren’t particularly close with most of your fellow Slytherins, but you smile and wave to them anyway, eager to prove that their faith is not misplaced. Oliver waves at you from the top row, lazily wiggling his green flag. You chuckle as you wave back.

Your support from the other houses is minimal, but it certainly doesn’t go unnoticed. Jungkook is among your loudest fans, shouting at the top of his lungs and blowing obnoxiously into his horn as soon as his eyes land on you. He’s decked out in green from head to toe, even going so far as to wear the emerald beret you bought for him during your trip to Paris the previous summer. The man’s even painted his face green and silver, much to the chagrin of his housemates, who stare at him as if he’s grown another head. You’d expect nothing less from him; for all his playful jabs, he’s always been your most vocal supporter.

Ginny sits not too far from him, eagerly waving at you with a green foam finger. You haven’t the slightest clue where she got it — Hogwarts doesn’t even sell foam fingers — but you have a sneaking suspicion that her father’s got something to do with it. Her smile is so wide you’re sure her face is going to crack, but she doesn’t seem to care. The sight of her fiery red hair standing out amidst the crowd makes you think of Fred and George, and your smile falters for a brief moment. It’s the first time you’ve played without them cheering you on, jumping up and down and shouting until their lungs gave out. Truth be told, you’re still a bit torn up over Fred’s loss. You try your best not to think about it.

Of course, your newest supporter sticks out among the rest. In the very front row of the Hufflepuff section is Taehyung, waving eagerly at you with the brightest of smiles. His vibrant hair makes him rather easy to spot, but that’s not what has you letting out a delirious chuckle when your eyes finally land on him. Despite your assurance that it was no problem for him to cheer for his own house, he’s sporting a dark green shirt and waving a Slytherin flag above his head. The sight of him in your house colors has you grinning like an absolute fool, even as Hobi suggestively wiggles his eyebrows. That boy just continues to surprise you.

It takes you a moment to realize that he hasn’t come alone. A rather excitable boy waves at you from his side, bundled up in a Ravenclaw scarf even though his team isn’t playing and it’s well over eighty degrees outside. Another Hufflepuff stands behind Taehyung, shooting you a smile so bright that you’re quite certain you might melt if you stare at it for too long. Kim Namjoon sits a few feet away from them, nose buried in a book as he goes out of his way to avoid your gaze. You’d expect nothing less from him, and honestly, you’re glad you don’t have to deal with his judgemental stare. The last thing you need right now is to concern yourself with him.

With one last wave to Taehyung, you tighten your grip on your broom and make your way to the center of the pitch. Madam Hooch is already there, as is the Hufflepuff captain, who offers you a polite smile. You know remarkably little about Hannah Abbott, save for the fact that she took over after Cedric Diggory’s untimely demise a few years ago. She’s been nice enough the few times you’ve spoken to her, though always a bit reserved, as if purposefully distancing herself from you. You don’t blame her in the slightest; your reputation has a way of putting people off.

“Alright, ladies,” Hooch calls. “It’s time. Shake hands, and we’ll begin the match.”

Hannah is the first to outstretch her hand. The players behind her look at you almost fearfully, as if they expect you to reach out and bite it off. Fortunately for them, you do no such thing. Your palm presses easily against Hannah’s, and to your surprise, she doesn’t flinch away. The two of you shake hands and smile politely, all too aware of the eager eyes watching your every move. You almost feel bad for her. Not everyone is as accustomed to being stared at as you.

With one last nod to your rival, you take a few steps back and mount your broom. Your players follow suit, each grinning ear to ear in anticipation. The stadium goes silent as your team and the Hufflepuffs stare at one another. You can feel the goosebumps crawling along your skin, the hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention. You’ve missed this feeling more than words can describe. No matter how chaotic and complicated your life might be, you can always count on the sheer exhilaration of the game to perk you up. For the first time all year, you don’t feel as if you’re just gliding through your life. You’re here, you’re alive, and you couldn’t be more excited if you tried.

The sound of Hooch’s whistle is the last thing you hear before you take to the sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And in it goes! That’s another ten points for Slytherin, putting the score at 130 to 90!”

You’re fairly certain that the smirk is simply stuck to your face at this point. It’s only been twenty minutes since the match began, and already you can taste your impending victory. The Hufflepuffs have been giving you a good fight, posing a far more difficult challenge than expected, but they’re no match for the well-oiled machine that is your team.

Benjamin, your Keeper, has been running himself ragged defending the Slytherin goal posts. For every shot they make, he fends off three more. That they’ve managed to make it to ninety points is an impressive feat, even if they’re still coming in second place. He’s blocking shots that you would have considered sure things, and never once does he waver, even when the Hufflepuff fans start shouting obscenities at him. You’ve spent the past month whacking Bludgers towards the hoops to help him train, and it seems as though your work has paid off.

Your Chasers — Emilia, Anthony, and Leo — have been at the top of their game since the match began. They’re speeding through the air so fast that you can barely keep up with them, let alone the opposing team. Emilia and Leo are acting as support for Anthony, who has singlehandedly landed 100 of your 130 points. As soon as the Quaffle lands in his grasp, he’s gone, little more than an emerald blur as he takes off towards the posts. Emilia and Leo flank him on either side, occasionally tossing the ball back and forth between them to confuse the Hufflepuff Chasers. They are a team in their own right.

You and Hobi have, as usual, spent the entirety of the game trying to knock the Chasers off course. The pair of you have made them drop the Quaffle so many times you’re beginning to lose count. Your aim is so precise that the Bludgers find their mark each time, much to Hannah’s chagrin. Hobi is the calmer of the two of you, more interested in blocking shots than actually trying to hit anyone. You, however, are relentless. You have no interest in hurting anyone, especially not the Hufflepuffs, but you’ve gotten your fair share of near-misses. One particularly strong whack of your bat nearly took off Arabella Matthews’ head at the beginning of the game. Were you anyone else, you wouldn’t dare risk hitting a Bludger so close to someone; but you’re you, and you know that you’re skilled enough to keep the other players out of harm’s way.

And Yoongi — Yoongi is about to catch the Snitch.

You’re so focused on the Chasers speeding past you that it takes you a moment to notice it, but notice it you do. He’s been staying out of the action the entire time, opting to circle around the field in search of your golden ticket to victory. Aside from warning you of an incoming Bludger at one point, you haven’t given each other a spare glance since the game started. Now, though, as he takes off in a nosedive towards the ever-elusive ball, you can’t take your eyes off of him. Both you and Hobi cheer for him as he follows it towards the Ravenclaw stands, and even from across the field you can hear Jungkook shouting words of encouragement.

“You’ve got this Yoongi!” Your words are frantic, rushed, tumbling out of your mouth before you can even process them. You pay them no mind. Even the Bludgers have been forgotten. All you can do is watch Yoongi follow the Snitch, mere feet away from him. Your heart is beating with such ferocity that you can feel it slamming against your ribs, but you truly don’t care. The sun in your eyes, the chanting of the crowd, Hobi’s elated presence at your side — it all fades away. The only thing you care about is your friend.

The Hufflepuff Seeker has yet to notice his opponent’s disappearance in the sky, which only makes your grin widen. His housemates are screaming at him, gesturing frantically towards Yoongi and urging him to follow, but it’s too late. The entire arena watches with bated breath as Yoongi leans forward on his broom, thrusts his arm forward as far as it will go, stretches his fingers to the brink of snapping, grits his teeth, and —

“AND THAT’S IT! MIN YOONGI HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! SLYTHERIN WINS!”

You and Hobi scream and throw your arms up victoriously, smiling like idiots all the while. You’re drenched in sweat and fairly certain your arms are about to fall off out of sheer exhaustion, but you couldn’t care less. A familiar warmth swells in your chest as you watch the Slytherins erupt in applause, a sensation you haven’t felt since you were fifteen years old. It only grows more intense when your eyes land on Jungkook, who is jumping up and down while he shouts Yoongi’s name. When you see Taehyung, though, you’re fairly certain you’re going to melt from the inside out — because he’s smiling up at you with the most adoring expression you’ve ever seen on another human being, and it makes you go weak in the knees.

Your teammates hurry to the ground, eager to embrace Yoongi and congratulate him for the victory, but you don’t follow. You’re proud of Yoongi, make no mistake — he’s come a long way from the scrawny little boy you met on the common room couch in first year — but you have other things to attend to. You swear your broom moves of it’s own accord as you speed towards the stands. Hobi is giving you an odd look from the corner of his eye, one you pointedly ignore. You have no time for his questions right now.

Jungkook is racing towards you the moment your feet hit the stands, but for once, he’s not the one you’re there for. He’s confused, that much you’re sure of, because he knows that you know he’s sitting with the Gryffindors, but you’ve landed in the Hufflepuff section. Part of you feels guilty for not immediately running to meet up with him, but you brush it off. You know he’ll forgive you for momentarily moving him to the back burner, especially when he sees what you’re about to do.

It’s a bad idea, and you know that. But when you finally meet Taehyung’s glimmering eyes, you know there’s no point in trying to stop yourself. He opens his mouth to congratulate you, to tell you how amazing you were out there, but you don’t give him the chance. Before he can even get the first syllable out, you’ve thrown your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into the most bone-crushing hug you’ve given in years.

He freezes for a moment, clearly taken aback by your sudden display of affection. It’s caught you off guard too, to be honest — of all the things you’re known for around here, tenderness is not one of them. You don’t even hug your friends that often, and you’ve known them since you had braces. It hasn’t even been two months since you met Taehyung, and yet here you are, arms wrapped firmly around his back with your head resting atop his shoulder. It’s stupid, and you know it’s stupid, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself even if you wanted to...which, to be honest, you didn’t. You try not to think about what that might mean.

Mercifully, he returns the gesture when the shock wears off. He wraps his arms gently around your waist, hesitantly, as if he’s expecting you to come to your senses and pull away at any second. It isn’t until a few moments have passed that he actually tightens his grip, though it still doesn’t rival the hold you’ve got on him. You’re hugging him so tightly you’re shocked he can still breathe properly. He doesn’t seem to mind. Rather than push you away or question this rather abrupt attempt at kindness, he simply pulls you close and rocks you back and forth. You make no move to leave his grip.

You’re fully aware of how odd this is. The two of you only cemented your friendship a couple weeks ago, and you’ve certainly never done anything quite this affectionate before. You’ve playfully pushed his shoulder, sure, and he smiles at you every time you look at him, but neither of you have ever made a move to hug one another. It makes absolutely no sense for you to spring this on him; but dear god, the urge to throw yourself at him was so overwhelming it actually caught you off guard. Of all the post-game activities you’ve taken part in over the years — swimming in the lake, sneaking out to the Three Broomsticks with your teammates, downing an entire bottle of firewhiskey in one sitting — you’ve never done anything quite as bizarre as this.

But as he rests his head on your shoulder blade, you realize that you don’t regret it one bit.

The two of you don’t pull away until someone clears their throat behind you. It’s so loud and intrusive that you don’t even need to look to know who it is, though you turn on your heel nonetheless. Sure enough, Hobi is standing right there, arms folded and an insufferably smug grin on his face. Yoongi and Jungkook flank him on either side, looking at you with such teasing smirks that you have to restrain yourself from smacking them. None of them seem at all fazed by the death glare you shoot them.

“Well, who do we have here?” Hobi inquires with a playful lilt in his voice. His eyes meet yours for a fraction of a second, silently taunting you, and you’ve never wanted to punch someone more in your entire life. He knows this, you’re sure, which only makes his grin grow wider as he looks at Taehyung. “Don’t be rude, Y/N. Introduce us to your...friend.”

If Taehyung wasn’t standing right next to you, you would push Hobi over the edge of the stands without a second thought. As it is, you simply grit your teeth and gesture towards your blue-haired companion, silently hoping that your friends don’t scare him away. “Guys, this is Taehyung. Tae, these are my friends: Hobi, Yoongi, and Jungkook.”

The boys wave at him as you call out their names, each with a sickeningly smug grin. Whether Taehyung doesn’t recognize the satisfaction written across their faces or simply elects to ignore it, you don’t know, but he offers them a kind wave and a bright smile nonetheless.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he greets politely. “Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”

Hobi’s smirk only grows. “Funny. I was about to say the exact same thing.”

You’re only a second away from turning your best friend into a toad when another familiar (and exceedingly annoying) voice calls out to you.

“Y/N. It’s nice to see you. Behaving yourself, I hope?”

It’s your turn to smirk now, entirely too pleased with yourself as you turn on your heel to greet Namjoon. Taehyung’s other friends are behind him, each grinning and waving at you in greeting. The head boy, however, does no such thing. The smile he flashes at you is painfully fake, so much so that you wonder why he bothers wearing it at all. The unfamiliar Ravenclaw boy behind him elbows his side, and he coughs to conceal his groan of pain. Whoever this guy is, you just know you’re going to like him.

“Aw, you know me, Namjoon. I’m always on my best behavior.” He doesn’t buy your words for a second, but his smile doesn’t falter. “Who are your friends?”

He moves to introduce them, but the Ravenclaw boy shoves him out of the way and outstretches his hand towards you. You shake it with a quick laugh. “Park Jimin, at your service,” he introduces almost valiantly. “You must be this Y/N I’ve heard so much about.”

“Guilty.”

Namjoon sighs and gestures towards their Hufflepuff companion, who you could have sworn you caught staring at Hobi for a moment. “This is Kim Seokjin. Jin, this is — .”

“Y/N!” The boy offers you the most blinding smile you’ve ever seen as he surges forward to shake your hand. It actually takes you a moment to collect yourself, entirely caught off guard by the wildly positive energy this guy is radiating. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Taehyung talks about you all the time.”

His comment has your brows flying towards your hairline. A quick glance at Taehyung shows him frantically shaking his head, silently urging Jin to shut up, but it’s too late; you’re already smiling at him. His cheeks darken under your gaze, and you can’t stop yourself from chuckling. It’s nice to know that you make him as nervous as he makes you, if only because it means that you aren’t imagining things. It’s flattering, having someone like him think so highly of you. You only hope he hasn’t talked you up too much; you’d hate to disappoint him.

It’s abundantly clear that Hobi’s about to say something embarrassing when he laughs beneath his breath and opens his mouth again, but you don’t even let him get the first syllable out. Your hand claps over his mouth with such force that you might as well have slapped him. On any other day, you would have felt bad for using such force; now, you kind of wish you’d hit him harder. Rather than let him fight you off and tell Taehyung something else he doesn’t need to know, you push him back and call out to Tae over your shoulder.

“Well, it’s been nice talking you to Tae, but we should probably be getting back to the locker room now! Bye!”

It takes only a second for you to realize that you’ve got another traitor in your midst.

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook shouts with an evil grin, “don’t tell me you aren’t gonna invite them to the after party!”

I need new friends.

You chuckle and awkwardly rub the back of your head, purposefully avoiding Taehyung’s eyes as you speak. “Right! Right, uh, the after party. Um, it’s in the common room tonight. Nine o’clock. You’re all more than welcome! Er, if you wanna come, I mean. No pressure or anything.”

Taehyung smiles and nods, but says nothing else. You suspect he wants to talk it over with his friends, which is more than fine with you, since it gives you more time to escape. You’re almost certain he’s about to say something, but you don’t give him a chance. Without so much as a second glance, you grab Jungkook and Hobi by their ears and drag them off towards the locker room, offering only a small wave to Tae.

The boys wince and try to push you away, but your grip is iron-clad. Yoongi can’t stop himself from laughing when you crouch down and whisper in their ears.

“I’m gonna kill you both.”

——————————————————————————

A/N: TAEYN ARE SO ADORABLE I CANNOT STAND THESE PEOPLE. I hope you’re all as infuriated by this slow-burn as I am. Next update coming tomorrow! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist💕 — Rynn

tag list: @wannabestark @deepseavibez @taeshuworld @lele-bb @hxseok-honee @burningupp-replies @livorna @lovelytaes-blog @theclawofaraven

#bts scenarios #bts #bts reactions #bts imagine #bts x reader #harry potter imagine #slytherin #hufflepuff #gryffindor #ravenclaw #bts harry potter au #bts hogwarts au #bts social media au #bts writing #writing #taehyung x reader #kim teahyung #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #min yoongi #park jimin #jung hoseok #jeon jungkook #castleton

[ag3ntl3vi]

Hoodie X GN! Reader X Masky | “Rock Paper Sisscors” |☁️

This struck me at like, 3AM while listening to Devil in Diguise. I’ll probably write more parts to this tonight if im being honest. 

!Gender-Neutral reader!

Trigger Warnings: Sexual mentions. 

Word Count: 2,317

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"Can you go any slower?" You laughed, stopping to allow your friend to catch up. Sweat dotted her chocolatey forehead as she panted. 

"Yes! I can." She wheezed. "You're just too fast!" Taylor whined loudly, bending herself in half to try and catch her breath. You rolled your eyes and pulled her up, raising her arms over her head. 

"You'll breathe better this way," You told her, taking a step back and taking a long sip of your icy water. Taylor nodded her thanks and slowed her breathing gradually. 

        "Wanna keep going?" You asked as you wiped your mouth on your wrist. Taylor feriously shook her head. "I'll pass, (Y/n)." She whimpered. You put yout arms behind your head as you began to walk down the worn dirt bath. 

"That sucks," You murmered. "We were only 1/4th of the way done."

Taylor gaped at your cocky smirk. "And you do this everyday?"

You nodded. "Twice a day if I'm feelin' lucky," You winked and giggled. Taylor shook her head in disbelief. 

"You're a machine," She grumbled, jogging to your side. You could tell she was tired, but she was the one who asked to join you in your near-night run. She said she needed the exercise to get the perfect "summer body", even though it was fall. 

You hummed. "I didn't know they made sexy machines now." Taylor pushed away the urge to roll her eyes, though she desperately wanted to. She chose not to answer your stupid comment. You both started to walk back to your dorm and planned a junk food movie night. You had the feeling she wouldn't last, but you couldn't say no to her puppy face. You had to admit, you were a sucker for your best friend.          Taylor ended up chugging the rest of her and your water bottles greedily, but you didn't blame her. She was pretty out of shape. The darker skinned girl took a large gasp of fresh oxygen after finishing off your beverage. 

"Learn to breathe, my God," You snorted. She glared.

"I just ran a mile, you can shut your mouth, you fucking monster," She hissed playfully. 

School campus soon came into view after your bickering. Taylor grumbled about how badly her feet ached and how she was never running ever again. You parted ways at the dorm. Taylor wanted to get the living room set up for the movie and sent you out for snacks and drinks. You easily migrated to the everything store. That wasn't its actual name, you couldn't care to remember what it was, but the everything store seemed to suit the run down shop better. 

        You pushed thr glass double doors open, a cute bell ringing to announce your presence to the cashire, Michael. 

"(Y/n)!" He greeted with a smile. You returned the facial gester with a small wave of your own.          "What're you here for this time?" He leaned his head on his open palm, his eyes trained on your figure. You had your back turned to him as you read the movie names on the rack. 

"What does it look like?" You chuckles, plucking a familar title from the shelf. 'Kiki's Delivery Service', a childhood favorite of yours. Michael didn't verbally answer, he was too busy allowing his eyes to roam your every curve. 

His eyes snapped to the side when you turned around to wonder down the candy isle. You shoved a KitKat , snickers, and (f/c) into your arm (allowing an extra of your favored one into your pocket, shh) before you turned the corner, finding the energy drinks. With a childish grin you grabbed a few of the better Monster flavors. You knew you had popcorn at the dorm so you didn't bother trying to find a box here. 

        You decided to check out as quickly as possible, avoiding as much conversation with Michael as you could. He gave you the creeps. He always tended to make sexual remarks regarding your running outfit, like how your shorts made your ass look plump or how cute you looked with a flushed, tired expression. In general, he didn't seem like a good guy or influence, though Taylor took an odd interest in him. She always had shitty tastes in men. 

It was getting late, you noticed. The sun started to darken as students scrambled to their respected dorms or apartments off campus. You made your way to your room. The illuminated cobblestone path gave you the worst horror movie vibes, so to say you booked it was an understatement. As soon as you were inside the safe confindments of your dorms living area, you released a loud sigh of relief. You thought about taking the elevator up, but decided on the stairs to the third story. You were very grateful you were on a higher floor, to you it served as a lesser chance of being robbed or murdered. 

"I brought a movie, candy and monsters, come on, you filthy goblin." you called into the freakishly neat room. Taylor was a very, very messy person so you tended to pick up after her more than you'd happily admit. It didn't take long for you to set positions for certain objects in specific places. Example, your shoes stayed in a small, plastic, blue bin by the door. They didn't ever make it to the carpeted floor of the living room. You had a key rack by the door so your keys were never lost or misplaced and Taylor had insisted you needed a coat rack, so your bookbags and Taylor's purses hung there. Any extra blankets, pillows, and sheets were placed neatly in the spare closet. 

        "Monsters..?" Her brown head popped out from around the corner. 

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

Taylor had passed out halfway through the movie, not that you were surprised. You pouted. You were very well use to it, but it wasn't any less disappointing when it happened. You carefully laid her on the couch, not bothering to wake her. She was a literal demon when she was woken up. You covered her body in a large, fluffy blanket before standing, pacing for a moment. 

You wondered back to your organized room and grabbed your large spray bottle you kept on your dresser. You stared down your mass of plants in your window seal and the few on your night stand and hanging from the ceiling before watering the ones that needed it, leaving your Rainbow Bush succulent alone. Satisfied, you grabbed your school jacket and your earbuds and phone before slipping your shoes on at the door. 

It was almost 1 before Taylor and you had finally settled enough to sit and watch the movie, so it was fairly late now. But, regretfully, your body was still pumped from the sugary drinks you consumed not long ago. You made a quick choice to go on a short run to tire yourself out a bit before retiring for the night. Sure, wasn't the best idea to go out at night, alone and defenceless, but you prided yourself in your speed if needed. Besides, you've done it before and you were obviously still alive!

You made your way to the dirt path you ran earlier in the day, struggling to remember a stupid songs name. You grinned when you figured it out and hurriedly played it. The opening played through your earbuds as you gently bobbed your head to the beat.

"There are boulders on my shoulders, collar bones begin to crack, there is very little left of me and it's never coming back," You sung softly along with 'Be nice to me'. An old, but greatly loved song from your middle school years. You began to run.

Your lips parted in a content smile as a phrase slipped past your teeth.

"You're a killer, and i'm your best friend. I think it's unfair, your situation," 

You began to bounce on the balls of your feet excitedly. "You say i'm changing! I'm sorry I didn't know I had to stay the same!" You jumped as your legs moved, your voice growing louder and bolder with every word thoughtlessly spilling out your mouth. You became unaware of the eyes watching your movements, head tilted in confusion. 

"Your voice is driving me insane!" You shouted, hopping more as you swished your head side to side, getting louder everytime the phrase was repeated. The last note rang through your ears and you let out a joyful that was quickly cut off. The overbearing feeling of being watched dawned on you. 

You jerked around and scanned the treeline, your eyes falling on a tall male facing you with a tilted head. You stared at him, confused before your gaze fell on the bloodied pipe dangling by his side. You fearfully and turned around, bolting in the direction the path led you to. You didn't have much time to understand why he was watching you, but you could hear his heavy footsteps crushing dead leaves as he raced after you. 

'Molly' blasted into your ears loudly, making you jerk in surprise. If you were going to die tonight, you were glad this was the song you'd die to. 

You could hear him distantly still chasing after you. Not to brag, but you could run a mile amd keep going onto the next without breaking too much of a sweat, though you'd be fairly tired.          Speaking of tired, you could feel the drousiness spreading to your head and deep down you knew that you couldn't keep the pace up for much longer. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned into the woods, lifting your feet high so you wouldn't be the stupid one to trip on a root and be killed first. That would be an embarrassing way to die and not even Molly could make it better, you concluded. 

So you did the most logical thing your sleepy brain could think of.

You climbed a fucking tree.

The man was a far enough distance for you to get a good amount of height between the two of you. You panted, your palms itching with needle-like pain from the rough and merciless bark, but pulled yourself up another branch and looked down. The man was panting heavily, bent over as he struggled to force air into his most likely burning lungs.  He stood up after a quick second, glaring up the tree at you.

Childishly, but overcome with a sense of acomplishment, you stuck your tongue out at him. 

Bad idea, you concluded when the guy's gloved fists clenched by his sides and he started to climb. 

You squealed. "No! Fuck off!" You shouted. "Pick another goddamn tree, you humanoid orange!" A growl ripped through your teeth as you glared fearfully at him.          To your surprise, he got down. He moved his head to stare at you before sitting indian style, his face pointed to you.

For the first time you had a proper look at him, and you weren't surprised. He looked like he came from a shitty horror movie. He wore an orange hoodie with a ski mask hiding his facial features, a red frowny face sitched into it. He had dark blue, wore out jeans and black boots that looked to be kept as clean as Taylor would keep her living space. 

'Best friend' Began to play quietly through your (f/c) earbuds and you forced down a snort at the timing. You were hoddled up in a tree while a guy who most likely wanted you dead watched from below. You shook your head and glanced at the dark sky.

'The stars are out' You thought as you spotted the little dipper, the big one wasn't far away from it's child. 

It only took about ten minutes for your easily distracted mind to get bored. You stared down at the hooded man as he drew in the dirt with his pipe. An idea struck you, a bad one, but an idea nevertheless. And it wasn't going to kill you, with a lot of hope, it may allow you to live another day. 

"Yo, tangerine!" He flinched at your loud voice, moving his head to stare at you. 

You held up a fist with your dominate hand, your opposite going under it, palm up and open.

"Wanna play rock, paper, sisscors before I die?" 

The man stilled before very, and I mean very slowly nodded. You allowed yourself to snort. Now you were going to play a childs game with a murderer. 

"Do you know how to play?" You called down. He nodded again and held up his hands. "Cool," You said.

The orange-clad killer was absolute shit at rock, paper, sisscors. He was even worse than your nephew, who was six and had the attention span of a squirell. Sometime in your game playing, you had moved yourself a few branches down to see him better in the dark woods. You now sat a branch above his head.          He didn't move much, but his shoulders seemed to slump.

You threw rock, again, and he threw sisscors. You gave an evil victory crackle whiele he glared gloomily at his open fingers.          "That was fun," You stretched your arms over your head, yawning. "Can I go now?" You calmly asked. 

He didn't move for a long while, looking between you and his gloved hands, the, back to you. Finally, he nodded. You hopped down, smiling widely. 

"Thanks," You said nervously. He was trying to kill you earlier, so you wouldn't be completely off guard around him. You started to shuffle around him cautiously. His arm shot out, grabbing your upper arm roughly. You flinched hard, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

This is it, You thought He changed his mind and wants to eat me!

Instead, you heard a deep voice whisper.

"You can leave if we can play again soon."

#creepypasta #x reader #hoodie x reader #hoodie #masky #marble hornets #fanfiction #masky x reader #poly relationship #masky x reader x hoodie #cp #i dont know what im doing #rock paper sisscors #murderer #tim wright #brian thomas

[sleepylixie]

What are friends for?

College! Han Jisung X fem! Roommate reader

Imperium Universe || Jisung || Seungmin || Chan

1.5k words, Fluffy Fluff fluff,College!AU, Roommate!AU

Beware of: None other than teeth-rotting fluff and a teeny bit of swearing. Seungmin is chaotic evil incarnate but we been knew already 😂😂

A/N: the soft feels for Han Jisung hit hard 24/7, you guys. I MEAN LOOK ST THIS CUTIE BABIE I AM SIMPING. i have nothing more to say for myself. Please enjoy my offerings 🥺❤️❤️

Requests are open for SKZ and BTS! || Masterlist

//

Han Jisung wasn’t used to roommates. Him and his law major friend Seungmin had neglected to apply for on-campus housing until the last minute. A freak administrative error had the both of them assigned to a certain Y/N’s room and... safe to say, the two of them had had a bit of a surprise in store for them when they met you.  

It was disconcerting for Jisung at first- to see his first impression of your appearance as a possibly reserved, introverted character dissolve into chaos the second you opened your mouth. You were a force of nature dressed in pastel skirts, a lavender-scented hurricane that had no control over her tongue or hair. You smiled like a fox- sweet and unassuming on the surface, but sharp-witted and deceptive underneath.

Jisung knew instantly that Seungmin would click with your personality. The both of you were freakishly similar, with your innocent appearance melting into sheer devilry whenever the two of you wished so. Of course, he was right.  Seungmin took to you with great interest-the two of you clicked like kindred souls, or possibly reunited twins who were separated at birth. Jisung, on the other hand... 

He was intimidated by you, and that made it slightly difficult for him to settle down around you. While you never treated him with anything beyond familiarity and the niceties of acquaintances, he could never allow himself the same sense of familiarity that Seungmin allowed himself with you. 

He wished so dearly that he could behave otherwise, for he would be lying if he said he hadn’t found you just a little attractive (just a smidgen) from the second he met you. Jisung wanted to be close to you, gain your trust and friendship, but for some reason(him scared of looking like an idiot and possibly having you judge him for the rest of his life) he could never bring himself to do it.

//

The three of you had been living together for a good year and a half, well into your third semester and you’d all figured out how to live with each other. For example, Seungmin would only cook if there was DAY6 music playing in the kitchen. The way you entered the house was a clear indication of your mood that day- and today, it was a loud, resounding slam followed by strings of cursing.

“This is a fucking scam. This entire university is a cesspool of money mongering bastards and greedy professors who don’t deserve a shred of anybody’s fucking respect-

“Woah, slow down there, tiger, what’s got your tail on fire?” Jisung asked you, jumping upright from where he was lounging on the couch. Your eyes flashed with annoyance as you threw yourself onto the side of the couch Jisung had just vacated.

He couldn’t help but let his eyes rove your body as unnoticeably as he could manage. Your hair looked windswept from your walk back to the apartment, one of the guys’ hoodies and jeans covering your frame. How you could look so devastatingly adorable despite having steam pouring out of your ears was absolutely beyond him.

“What happened, is my fucking creative lit professor refused to grade me up for the mid-term assignment, even though I know my piece was one of the best.” You were fuming, stark raving mad, literally one second away from shooting sparks out of your ears as your hands twisted together on your lap.

“He told me that if I worked harder at trying to become a better writer, I wouldn’t have to be begging for a better grade. AND HE SAID THAT I SHOULD TRY NEW METHODS OF BEGGING IF I WANTED IT THAT BADLY.”

Jisung’s eyes narrowed as he took in the words that were spewing out of your mouth. “Did he really-” “YES HE DID I CAN’T WITH THIS UNIVERSITY-” You burst out, letting an angry yell punctuate your sentence. 

“Do you want to go to the Dean? I’m sure they’ll be able to do something about it.” 

At that, you smiled at Jisung, the same foxy smile that had him shrinking a little into himself every time he saw it- it was a thing of rather savage beauty, very out-of-place on a face as endearing as yours.

“Not really, I handled it myself.”

Jisung stared at you, his internal discomposure melting into curiosity. “What the fuck did you do Y/N, I swear if you got one of the varsity jocks to beat him up or something-”

“I’m glad you think I’m capable of that, honestly.” You giggled, anger temporarily forgotten, swatting at Jisung’s thigh. Were those butterflies in his stomach? Gods, he would eat a knife if it got them to stop fluttering-

//

“She had the Dean on call when she spoke to that sleazeball of a professor,” Jisung exclaimed, amidst assorted gasps and cheers from his audience, laughing a little himself as he sipped his beer. “guess who got a new creative lit professor and full marks for the assignment.”

You laughed as everybody around you let out peals of laughter, thumping you on the back in appreciation.

Your roommates had a gang of 6 other boisterous boys from all over the campus, united by a string of unsavory events and narrowly avoided expulsion. You should probably be concerned, sure, but the vibe the 8 of them had with each other was way too nice for you to not be roped in; now you were part of all their weekly parties at Chris and Hyunjin’s frat house. 

You were situated on the armrests of one of the couches in said frat house, red cup supplied with your kind of poison- Whiskey and soda. All of the boys were gathered around the common room, laughing and talking amongst each other when Jisung took it upon himself to recount the story of your creative lit professor’s unfortunate dismissal. 

It was a rather embarrassing pastime of yours, to watch Han Jisung. He was a strange one, alright. Out in the world, he was a loud, boisterous guy with a penchant for words, knowing exactly what to say at any point of time. It earned him his reputation of being a cheeky mood maker in any setting, the kind of guy who had friends all over the campus and beyond. 

In truth, however, the Han Jisung you came to know was reserved, a little more hesitant with his words, the kind who’d allow his friends to speak up for him unless he absolutely had to. He wasn’t a pushover by any means, no. He was just a little more picky with his words when they were meant for the people he was comfortable with.

For some reason, it warmed your heart when he behaved that way around you too- it felt like he’d accepted you into his inner circle. For some reason, your heart honest to god skips a beat when he smiles, this fucking adorable smile every time you and Seungmin tease him around at the apartment because fuck, he doesn’t always smile like that, does he? For some reason, you end up noticing his eyes when he smiled like that, the way his cheeks lifted up in this devastating manner, the way he’d laugh out loud with his whole body, so at odds with his reserved personality-

Yeah, no you definitely had a thing for him. You thought you were being glaringly obvious with it too, with the unabashed way you’d notice and steal glances at him every time he walked into the room. 

Not that you’d ever tell him any of this though, you were fairly sure you’d sent him an impression of mild intimidation with your rather...loud personality.

It was probably for the best if you admired Han Jisung from afar, hoping that your fancy for him doesn’t take the reins on your behavior.

Jisung might not have noticed, but another certain somebody definitely did. Somebody who’s brain was already thinking, well-oiled cogs being put to use.

\\

“Jisung, you should probably know that Y/N has a thing for you,”

“Seungmin what the fu-” you spluttered, neck already burning. This was not fucking happening.

“Is this what the roommate convention was for, you sneaky lil rat?” you exclaimed, doing everything you could to not lock eyes with the third roommate who was seated on your bed with the other two of you, now gawking between you and Seungmin with a rose blush scattered across his nose. 

Seungmin, to his credit, wasn’t fazed for a single second by the way the energy in the room changed, choosing to smile devilishly before continuing with his next sentence. 

“Y/N, you should probably know that Jisung has a thing for you too,”

What the fiddlesticks-

“And now, for my final trick, I shall excuse myself from this room. Roommate convention adjourned.”

Seungmin walked out of your room with a literal skip in his step. You would deal with your snake of a best friend after you were done with.. oh.

Your eyes finally met Jisung’s- warm amber eyes still looking at with a mixture of curiosity, surprise and affection that just knocked the words out of you. “Was Seungmin pranking me again?” He asked quietly, a hint of a smile playing across his lips. You sighed, trying to expel the nervousness. What the hell, might as well say the truth. 

“Not really,” the back of you neck felt like literal lava at this point- “I do like you.”

You were going to kill Seungmin.

“Good to know,” Jisung sighed in relief, his fingers twisting together on his lap. “Because uh.. He wasn’t pranking you either.” The next words seemed to take effort for him to get out, because his blush spread from his nose to his cheeks. “I like you too.”

You were going to thank Seungmin.

And then you were going to toss him into a dark room with Lee Minho and his boxing gloves, but that’s for later. 

#districtninewriters #inkidz #han jisung x you #jisung #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz x reader #stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids drabbles #stray kids au #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop stories #jisung x you #han jisung x reader #ellaskz

[angellesword]

SAVE ME | KTH (08)

Summary: You were determined to kill yourself, but what would happen when instead of ending your life, you ended up summoning the devil of death?

Alternatively:

The Devil: I’m here to ruin you, I’m here to save you.

Genre: Demon au, e2l, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Devil!Taehyung x Doctor!Reader | Boyfriend!Yoongi x OC

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: drowning, mention of divorce, family drama, kissing, implied smut

SERIES: CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 9

If there was one thing you knew, it was this: you could never argue with the truth because even if only a few people believed it, it still didn't cease to be true.

"She didn't do anything to save her brother!" This was a classic example.

You could not go against your father when he accused you of being an evil sister.

He was right.

You didn't do anything to save Jeongguk, your younger brother, because you were busy making out with Min Yoongi.

You were more than a decade older than Jeongguk. He was only seven years old when he almost died because of your lack of responsibility and empathy.

You remembered that time vividly even though ten years had already passed.

How could you forget when it happened on your birthday, the time when everything turned upside down?

It was your fault. You were a spoiled brat. Your mother didn't hesitate to say yes when you requested a beach party for your natal day. She also agreed when you said that you were going to invite some of your friends.

You introduced Min Yoongi, your boyfriend, as your friend. Your mother wasn't strict, but you knew your father wouldn't allow you to date someone like Yoongi.

Yoongi was the kind of boy parents warned their kids about.

He was a year older than you, a typical bad boy who liked to smoke and drink. He had tattoos and piercings too.

Min Yoongi was bad for you, yet you ignored the signs.

You still agreed to sneak out with him during your own party.

You still agreed to ignore the request of your father when he told you to look after Jeongguk for a minute while he attended to whatever you wanted.

It was Yoongi's idea. He said your party was boring and that you were going to have more fun if the two of you were alone together.

You were head over heels for your boyfriend that you didn't even blink when you lied straight to your father's face just to be with Yoongi.

You knew you couldn't sneak out when he was supervising your party like a boring father that he was. The only solution you could think of was to ask him to talk to the hotel manager because you apparently claimed that their catering service wasn't in accordance to your liking.

Your father obliged, but he specifically told you to look after Jeongguk while he was gone.

"Come on. Do we really need to bring that with us?" Yoongi was pointing at seven year-old Jeongguk as if he was disgusted.

Since you were young and stupid, you also snorted while taking Jeongguk's arm.

You hated that your brother's eyes were wide and doe. It was as if it was made to guilt trip you for wanting to have fun with your lover.

"I can't leave him here, Yoongi. He's just going to annoy my friends," you said this as you looked around the whole room.

You were lying again. Jeongguk was well behaved. People liked him—your friends would like him. It’s just that...you didn't trust any of them to look after your sibling.

You only invited them to show off. You didn't really treat these people as your friends.

"Fine," Yoongi stormed out of the ballroom.

You sighed, dragging Jeongguk so you could follow your boyfriend.

The thing with Yoongi was that he was easy to please. He was pissed off, yes, but all you had to do was kiss him and everything was good again.

You were at the shore, a public place where people could see you. Despite this, you didn't stop Yoongi when cupped your ass, his mouth was hot against your lips.

You were overwhelmed with the pleasure, yet you couldn't seem to enjoy this—not when you could feel your little brother's stare.

You stopped kissing Yoongi just as when he was forcing his tongue inside your mouth.

"W-Why'd you stop?" He licked his lower lip, eyes dark while raking your figure.

He badly wanted to touch you.

"Kook," you turned your attention to your sibling instead of answering Yoongi. The latter scoff but you continued to ignore him.

You were focused on Jeongguk who was silently looking at you. You realized that he was still holding a marshmallow on stick.

"You should—" Whatever you were about to say had been cut off when Yoongi suddenly patted Jeongguk's head.

"You should stay here and wait for us," the tattooed boy faked a smile, filling in what he thought you wanted to say.

He was wrong. You didn't want your brother to see you making out with Yoongi. You were actually starting to think this was a bad idea; however, your lover didn't give you a chance to tell Jeongguk otherwise.

You just found yourself quietly following Yoongi as he dragged you away from the seven year-old boy.

"Babe, I don't think we—" You had been cut off once more. Yoongi pushed you against the trunk of the coconut tree, away from your brother’s sight.

He was kissing you and this time; you relented, indulging yourself with his soft lips, but sharp tongue.

"You like this, huh?" He chuckled when he elicited a moan from you. He was certain you loved his fingers buried deep in your cunt. It was also enough to keep your mind off your little brother.

You had other things to think about.

You loved the thrill. You loved the idea of getting off while someone watched you, but then it scared you too.

You were scared because you knew it was stupid to put your needs before your brother.

The second you reached your high, everything came crashing down.

You heard noises.

Groans. Cries. Pleas. Screams.

Screams.

You heard your father screaming Jeongguk's name.

"Yoongi—" Your eyes were blown wide because of the ugly thoughts running inside your head.

Your boyfriend shook his head. He was as confused as you.

You heard your father screamed again. This time he was calling your name.

It wasn't the same tone he used when he desperately called Jeongguk's name. The way your father called your sibling was full of worry.

But the way he called you?

It was the opposite of it.

Your father was not worried. He was mad—infuriated.

This had been confirmed when you ran towards their direction.

You ran only to stop dead on your tracks. The scene in front of you made your heart sink.

You had never seen your father cry, not even once. But here he was, bawling his eyes out as he watched a stranger trying to revive your brother.

You already knew what happened just by looking at unconscious Jeongguk and the person giving him mouth-to- mouth resuscitation.

Jeongguk drowned.

He almost died because you didn't look after him. He almost died because you were busy fooling around.

Someone almost died because of you.

It was the truth and you could never argue with it.

You deserved the nasty things your father had said to you the moment he found out what truly happened.

You deserved not only the harsh words, but also the numbing and deafening slap right across your cheek.

What you didn't deserve was the protection of your mother.

She came to know what happened to Jeongguk a short while after the ambulance arrived.

Your mother witnessed the way your father lashed out on you.

She was mad, not at you, but at your father. She said he didn't have any right to hurt you.

It was an accident. This was what your mother argued. You should be punishing me! Not our daughter! She added and your father agreed.

He started questioning her love for her children. Where were you when you're supposed to be the one looking after the kids?

Your mother couldn't answer right away. At least your father had an excuse. In his defense, he was technically taking care of you—answering to your whim just because he didn't want to upset you during your special day.

As it turned out, your mother was doing exactly the same thing. She was coaxing your male professor to give you a higher grade since you didn't do so well on your major exam.

This drove your father even madder. He thought she was flirting with your teacher (she is, but it wasn't because she liked him.) You guessed it didn't matter since it wouldn't change the fact that your father looked like he could end you and your mother—which he did.

Not literally, of course.

But he ended up cutting ties with you two. He said he couldn't stand living with vicious women.

He left that day.

He left with your little brother. Your mother didn't have the strength to chase after them because she felt like he was speaking the truth.

When your father said that your mother was unfit to care for a child, she believed him.

She was not in the mood for months after he said that. She wasn't even able to do anything when he claimed he wanted a divorce.

Your father was a cruel man. He told your mom that he would also take you away from her if she didn't sign the paper.

He wasn't rich, but he had a strong case to make your mother look like the one at fault in front of the judge.

He even said that this was a win-win situation. Your mother got a daughter and he got a son.

He was challenging your mother.

Who could take care of their kids best? Who would turn out to be the better kid?

You guessed this was also the reason why your mother tried so hard to give you the life she thought you needed. She wanted to show your father that she could raise you just fine.

This also served as a hope for her. If you became a better person, then your father might come back again.

He might change his mind and allow her to be reunited with her son.

You knew how that hope turned to ashes.

It was sad, really. Your mother died of sickness without having the chance to see the man your brother turned out to be.

Jeongguk had grown so much. He was only seventeen, but he had muscles. One thing didn't change though. His eyes were still wide and innocent.

He was sitting right in front of you, sipping on his juice like it was his first drink in eons.

"So," Jeongguk was the one who broke the silence. He figured he needed to speak before Taehyung harmed him.

The three of you were inside your apartment. You invited Jeongguk in, but it appeared like Tae wasn't thrilled to see your brother here.

Jeongguk was right to think that Taehyung might harm him. This demon was glaring at your brother as though he had done something terribly wrong.

He hadn't. Jeongguk was only smirking like a cocky teenager as he enjoyed his juice. Nothing more.

His intention also seemed harmless. He was simply asking typical questions from a brother.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Jeongguk enquired.

Taehyung's arm was resting on the back of your chair, as if he was protecting you. The way he was acting made it look like Jeongguk was going to harm you.

He wouldn't. If he was being honest, Jeongguk didn't even want to be in the same room as you.

"And if I am?" Taehyung raised his brow, challenging your brother.

"Just curious that's all," Jeongguk simply shrugged his shoulders. "I expected it. You look like a wealthy man."

Your brother was judging Taehyung based on his appearance. He was right. Taehyung always looked so intimidating, like a powerful person who had a lot of money but was hiding skeletons in his closet. This being said, he was also giving Jeongguk the impression as if he would kill people who would end up finding said skeletons.

"What's that supposed to mean?" For some reason Taehyung didn't like the tone Jeongguk used. It was as though he was mocking the devil, as if the latter was so stupid because he was 'dating' you.

"Oh, come on." The corner of Jeongguk's lip twitched. "I haven't seen my sister in years, but I know her type. My family said she only dates millionaires,"

Your jaw tensed upon hearing that. The my family Jeongguk was referring to was definitely your relatives from your father's side.

You hated them. You hated that they were feeding your brother with lies. You were many things—high maintenance—this one way to describe you, but you weren't the type of person who looked down on other people just because of their social status.

"Taehyung is a writer." You uttered, unfazed. Jeongguk would believe what his family was telling him if you showed that you were affected by their lies.

Besides, you had said the same thing to other people countless of times. You and Taehyung decided to tell others that he was a writer. This was the only plausible explanation why he was always at the hospital. You told your colleagues that Taehyung was writing a book and that the main character was a doctor. He was simply observing how things worked at Cornelia Hospital.

"That's funny," Jeongguk pouted his lips. "I like reading books, yet I haven't seen anything written by you. Are you an amateur?"

"Nom de plume." Taehyung answered.

Your brother shrugged off again.

"Make sense. Stupid me. How can you buy this big ass apartment if you're just an amateur writer?"

Jeongguk's eyes scanned your luxurious apartment. You could feel that he was testing you. He was probably trying to find out whether you bought this place or not.

"It's my apartment." You were in no mood to play games so you told him the truth.

The younger boy's eyes sparkled, as if he hit the jackpot.

"That's cool. Did you use mother's money to buy this?"

There was no mistaking the tone he was using. You instantly knew Jeongguk was mocking you. He was clowning you for still living under the shadow of your rich mother.

You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking you.

"That's right. I used our mother's money to purchase this." You crossed your arms. "If only you aren't stubborn you'll have a big ass apartment like this too, you know?"

Your father and Jeongguk didn't show up when your mother's will was being discussed. You figured this would happen. Both of them didn't even go to your mother's funeral—not even when you sent written letters asking them to show up.

Since your parents were divorced, all of your mother's money went in your bank account, including insurance. Jeongguk was a minor, so his share was still entrusted to you.

You didn't plan to take his money. That was his share. You were actually fixing this issue since Jeongguk would be turning eighteen soon.

You just hope he wasn't stupid enough to waive his right of inheritance. You were aware that he needed cash. Academic life was expensive and although your father was able to provide Jeongguk a roof under his head and three meals a day, it still wouldn't be enough to get your brother through college.

"You're pretty straight forward." Jeongguk smiled, but you could tell he was still faking it. "Which means I don't have to pretend as if I like you to get what I want."

Jeongguk paused for a second just to swallow hard. There was no hint of mischief in his eyes when he turned to you.

"I hate you and mother, but I want my inheritance now."

You could tell that he was just acting tough, as if he was not affected by any of this, but he was. You knew he hated this. He hated that he needed to get something from you.

You were certain how much he despised you and your mother, it was probably because your father and their family talked shit about you all the time.

"So give me what I want, Sister. I can't stand seeing your face anymore."

The second you heard him say this, you felt as though you were about to puke. Your heart sank as tears filled your eyes.

For ten years, you made yourself believed that Jeongguk was doing fine—that it didn't matter if you tried to contact them, that he was better off with just your father by his side.

There was even a point in your life when you hated your mother because she was trying hard to show your father that she was worthy of love and her child.

She was. Your mother was your protector and you disliked that she had to appear pathetic in front of your father and sibling.

And so you started hating those two men. You tried to reason with yourself—if they couldn't see your mother's worth, then maybe they didn't deserve anything from you two.

You meant...that was the point of life, right? You made yourself believe a reason, any reason just to justify what you felt.

It was easier to lie to yourself instead of accepting things as they were.

For years, you thought it was better this way. It was better not to talk to Jeongguk; however, now that you were feeling how much he hated you, you suddenly regretted everything you made yourself believed.

Jeongguk hated you because he probably felt like you and your mother had abandoned him.

"I'll fix it as soon as possible, but it will take months, K-Kook. You're still a minor." You could no longer act like you weren’t breaking inside.

"Ah, about that..." Jeongguk let out an exhausted breath. You knew he was masking fear by making it looked like he was tired.

Some things never changed, huh? A decade had passed, but you still knew how he acted.

"You might wanna use your connection or something. You and I both know we can't stand each other. I don't want to live with you."

The hurt you felt was overpowered by confusion.

"Why would you wanna live with me?"

You were growing more curious now. Did Jeongguk run away from home? Was that it? Was this the reason why he suddenly showed up here?

Your assumptions had been debunked when your brother spoke again. His voice was void of any emotion that you thought he was fooling around.

Or perhaps you just couldn't accept what he told you.

"Because our father is dead."

#taehyung angst #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #taehyung fic #taehyung roommate au #taehyung roommate #devil taehyung #demon taehyung #taehyung fantasy au #ficswithluv #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x yn #taehyung x oc #taehyung x y/n #taehyung enemies to lovers #taehyung e2l

[xmint-conditionx]

《the emperor’s dagger》 ch3 | myg

❦ pairing: emperor!yoongi x concubine!reader ❦ w/c: 5.3k ❦ summary: after being caught, you and the emperor decide to let some distance come between you. after a week of being along with your thoughts, you finally meet each other again. this time, he has something special in store for you, but by the end of the night, you both find yourself doing something daring. ❦ tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, lots of angst in this one, pining, lots of backstory here, outdoor sex, penetrative sex, knife (sword?) play, very brief oral sex (f receiving). ❦ a/n: after literal MONTHS, i have finally added another chapter. this is actually me releasing it for a second time tonight because clearly the first time, tumblr hated it so much that it wouldn’t let it show up in searches. i really hope you all enjoy, and i plan to be uploading a new chapter every three weeks, my schedule permitting. anyway, enjoy the filth! luv yas! and let me know if you’d like to join the taglist; i’d be glad to add you ^_^

- minty <3

taglist: @jiminisnotavirgin @aretha170 @btstrash2013 @bbykoos @aquaalanah​

“Your Majesty?” you hear a voice call from the end of the corridor.

It’s Jin.

You both freeze for a beat, and then simultaneously take a step back from each other. You avert your eyes; it feels like you might be spared a harsh reprimanding if you just look in the other direction, for some reason. You’re sure your guilt and embarrassment at being caught is displayed plainly on your face, though, despite your best efforts. You allow your eyes to rake up from the floor, over to Concubine Mother Kim, as he stands firmly in the panel of moonlight shining on the dark wooden floorboards. His hands are placed firmly on his hips and his face is stern; this isn’t a good sign. You gaze up at your emperor, whose embrace just moments ago made you feel so protected and hidden away from the problems of the real world. Who made you feel safe.

And his face is as shocked as yours. 

“Concubine Mother,” the emperor says cooly, recovering more quickly than you, though you can see a tinge of pink flush his cheeks. He’s also blinking far too much. Jin regards him for a moment and then turns to speak to you.

“Please tell me that I did not make an exception for you to stay late, only for you to fool around with the king in secret.”

“Concubine Mother,” Emperor Min says, “I was just walking her back to the wing so--”

“Emperor Min, forgive me,” Jin says, not truly asking for forgiveness by the tone he’s carrying, “but you cannot truly believe I don’t see what I see.”

Emperor Min looks down and clenches his jaw. 

“Off to bed,” Jin says firmly to you. The sting of forming tears tells you to avoid their gaze as you bow lightly to Jin, and then offer a slightly deeper one to the emperor. Quickly and quietly, you padd off to the bedchambers, not wanting either of them to catch the tear that spilled over. You want to look back so badly, but you stop yourself. You can’t even begin to imagine the trouble you’re both going to be in. You stop behind the archway of the shared bedroom and listen in on the hushed conversation.

“Concubine Mother,” the emperor begins, “she really did stay late at the market. She was walking back through the throne room and I stopped her so that we could speak.”

Jin scoffs, “Speak? Please. Surely you don’t take me as a fool. It has been noticed by a number of certain royal officials that you call on her often…”

The emperor sighs.

“I’ve been careful, Jin,” he assures him.

“Good. One more thing,” he says, “I told her that the guards would be briefed on her situation. There was no need for you to walk her to the dormitories.”

“I… I just wanted to,” the king muttered; you were barely able to hear it.

“I see,” Jin says, with a heavy pause, “Truly. Make no mistake, Your Highness. I see everything. And I understand more than you know.”

Silence.

“I see the way you look at her. The way she looks at you,” he continues, “It would behoove you, Your Majesty, to request some of the others more frequently. Other people… influential people may begin to notice…”

“Understood.”

You don’t know why but suddenly, the thought of the king being with his other concubines makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. This is part of your job; something that you are well used to by now. Or... you were.

“Concubine Mother?” the emperor asks, “Please don’t think she is causing trouble. This is on me.”

“Alright,” he says, “but I have to tell you that I love that girl like she’s my own family. Be careful with her.”

“As long as I am alive, no harm will come to her,” he says more firmly than anything else he’s said so far, “that is a promise.”

“Glad to hear it, Majesty.”

You walk as quickly and as silently as you can back to your bed, grabbing your night clothes from underneath and quickly changing into the loose gown. You put your daytime concubine clothing into the other basket for used clothing beneath the bed frame, and climb into your sheets. Casting a shadow in the moonlight draping on the side of the wall, you see Jin’s form pause for a moment at the open door frame before walking onward to his own private chambers. You really hope you aren’t going to be scolded badly for this.

You don’t sleep well.

The next day, the emperor keeps his distance from you, as expected. He normally keeps himself at arms length from you, but today he spares no suggestive and flirty glances. You can’t possibly be upset at that, given what happened last night, but your stomach does drop a little when you pass him and he purposely avoids your gaze. It looked like he was with officials again; he so easily wears his stress in the creases between his eyebrows. 

It’s like this for several days, and you learn to swallow it. The distance is a healthy reminder of what reality is, and it makes the heartache easier.

As before when you wanted to have some distance from everything, you decide to spend your day reading out in the North Gardens. He hasn’t called for you in almost a week, and you’ve temporarily decided to halt lessons as well. It pains you, the separation, but it’s better this way. Safer, this way. The thick novel you hold is helping you escape your own circling thoughts. Although they’ve calmed dramatically over the past few days, they are stirred easily by being busy in the palace. Having to stay vigilant of where the king is at all times, lest you give too much away is exhausting. Seeing the places in the palace that remind you of him is heart-wrenching. Reading next to the soft trickle of the fountain is always a comfort, and it allows you to put your guard down and breathe. You’re deep into your book when the head of the palace guard strolls by.

“Jungkook, hi,” you say, “lovely to see you.”

“Likewise, miss,” the young man says, “I was hoping I would find you out here. I have something for you.”

“Oh?” you ask, leaning forward and marking the spot in your book before putting it down.

He discreetly hands you a scrap of parchment, folded neatly into a small triangle. You know who it’s from, so you slip it into a flap of your dress and tuck it underneath your waist sash without batting an eye. He never sends notes, you think to yourself as you look back up at Jungkook. The only other one you’d received was the first one that he himself had slipped to you.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you say, after realizing that nobody can hear your conversation over the splash of the fountain and the chirp of the birds playing in it. He smiles back down at you, wisps of dark hair falling into his face. He is very young to be head of guard, especially for someplace as important as the royal palace, but he is exceptionally bright and extremely skilled in combat. If anyone had ever deserved a position, Jungkook deserved this one.

Jungkook has been an aide to you and the emperor for weeks now, in secret. He walked unannounced into the emperor’s bedchambers late one night, in an attempt to inform him of an urgent palace security matter, only to find the emperor instructing you with your practice sword how to properly parry to the air. 

You had both been struck dumbfounded when the head of the royal palace guard had stopped in his tracks, mouth agape, digesting what was occurring in front of him. You were sure you were as good as dead. 

You’ll never forget the feeling of relief when he spoke.

“She’d learn better if she were able to actually physically parry a sword, Your Majesty,” he had said with a cheeky smile.

It seems that more people than you had realized believe that a woman should have the right to defend herself, the head of the palace guard included. Jungkook was more than happy to help the two of you find a place to practice without worry of the noise escaping and exposing you both. You needed a way to practice outside of the palace walls, so that actual sword to sword contact could be made. It was Jungkook’s idea to change the guard routes to provide you both with an easy exit out of the back, but it was the emperor’s idea to meet in a small clearing in the woods, behind the palace and beyond its tall walls. He had confided to you the first night you were able to practice there that this is where he would come as a boy to practice alone. His father never liked for him to disappear, but he hated being watched all the time. This field was the only place he could be himself without the eyes of the whole kingdom on him. He had said it only felt right to teach his first student in this same place.

The first time your practice blade clashed with his under the stars had felt incredible. It was like you were truly learning to fight.

Now, in front of you, Jungkook doesn’t linger. He nods respectfully and continues strolling through the gardens as if he hadn’t come out here looking for you. You’re outside in broad daylight, after all. The man might be the head of the palace guard, but he still doesn’t take chances if he doesn’t have to. You decide to finish the chapter you’re on and then go back inside the palace to read your note, just to ensure you keep suspicion at bay. Even though you’re aching to see what Emperor Min has written to you.

He’s been under so much scrutiny lately that he’s been extremely stressed. That much is visible from his face alone, but there are whispers within the palace among the concubines about how his temper is getting shorter and shorter. You’re afraid of what that might mean for you, and the contents of the note.

What if he’s calling everything off? Could how he cares about you be a shadow to his overall responsibilities and appearance? It wouldn’t be unexpected, you’d just hoped… maybe it was different.

You’re on the end of the Northern Wing balcony when you find yourself alone enough to take the note from your waist sash and read it. 

“My dove,” it says, “I hope you’re looking forward to practice this evening. I’ve got something exciting planned for you, since it has been so long since we’ve last practiced. Make sure you drink plenty of water.”

Quickly folding the paper again, you return it to your sash. You run over the possibilities in your mind, trying to imagine what he has thought of for you. A million scenarios rush through your head, each one more exciting than the last. Is he going to challenge you to keep a hand behind your back? What if he starts teaching you disarming techniques? Does he think you’re ready for ground fighting?

Really, none of that matters. You’re just glad to return to your nightly routine. You’ve missed him.

You go back into the concubine wing and conduct the rest of your day in preparation of whatever it is you’re going to have to endure tonight. You go through your tasks almost shaking with excitement. Sending a note is risky, so whatever he has planned must be intense. 

You arrive at the clearing a little earlier than usual; your nerves are so on edge that if you had stayed in your bed any longer, you feel like you would have exploded.

You take the moment to enjoy the light breeze and the sound it makes as it rushes through the tall grass and the even taller trees. The sky is beautifully clear, and the moon, though not full, is bright enough to light up everything around you. In the far distance, above the top of the pines, you can just make out the very top of the royal palace. The gold ornamentation gently glimmers in the night. 

It’s not long before you spot your emperor’s pale skin as he walks through the clearing. As he emerges from the treeline, you can just make out that he is carrying a large bundle. The way his long cloak sways around him as he walks is enrapturing, the grass parting and bowing to your king as he steps forward.

“I’ll admit,” you say as he gets close enough to hear you speak, “When I read your note, countless scenarios went through my head. None of them involved a package.”

“You’re a bright woman, dove, but I still have tricks up my sleeve,” he says with a wink as he tosses the wrapped bundle lightly onto the grass between you. It’s like nothing at all has changed in the past week. He takes the two sheathed practice swords off of the canvas and drops them down onto the ground at his side.

“Well,” he says, “are you going to open your present?”

“Oh, it’s a present?” 

“A reward. You’ve impressed me with your hard work, and you deserve it.”

You stand there dumbfounded. 

“Open it, dove,” he says quietly.

Bending down, you remove layers of the tough canvas until you feel something softer. It’s a strange array of padded cloth, in various odd shapes. You look up at your king, standing over you with his hands behind his back, chewing on his lip. Is he… nervous? You dig into the package further and pull out the largest piece. You hold it up and it finally hits you; it looks like a sort of jacket, with two pads on either top side… for arms?

“It’s…?” you start.

“Armor,” he says, almost too quickly, and then hesitates, “for you.”

You’re frozen where you crouch, blinking at the armour set in front of you. The white fabric is edged and trimmed with a fine gold thread, and the padding in the quilting is firmer than one would expect. You give it a good squeeze, and despite its lightweight feel, it’s extremely resilient. It doesn’t bend at all, no matter how much you try to warp it. It’s the best gift you’ve ever received.

In one swift motion, you drop the torso piece into the pile and throw yourself over the package and up onto him. He stumbles back, clearly not expecting the embrace, but it’s only a moment before he melts into it. His arms around your back pull you in tight, and you realize that you’ve missed the way he smells. You almost wish you would have purchased the scent you’d found at the market booth last week. You would have, had you known that he would be gone from you for so long.

“You better hurry and put it on, dove. We don’t have all night,” he says into the shell of your ear. Reluctantly, you pull away and pick up the mound of cloth. You trot to one side of the clearing where there is a particularly large bush. Behind it, you change. Even though the king has seen every last inch of you, it still seems appropriate to change out of sight for this. You don’t even have to remove your gown, but you want it to be a surprise.

Once you have the set on and tied, you walk back out into the clearing. He has his back turned to you, clearly having the same idea, so you call out to him.

“Your Majesty?”

He turns around and takes his time looking at your form. His eyes slowly rake over you, from top to bottom, and a small smile gradually spreads across his face. You wish you could know what he’s thinking, but more than anything, you want him near to you again.

“Aren’t you going to come see how it fits?” you tease. He lowers his gaze and walks slowly to where you stand in the tall grass. He lifts up one of your arms and holds it delicately as he makes a show of examining it. 

“Is it too heavy?” he asks, lowering your arm and reaching around your back, barely touching it. 

“I don’t think so, Your Highness,” you reply, turning fully around once so that he may see.

“And you wear it well,” he says, landing a peck on the spot where your neck and shoulder meet, “of course you do. Come, let’s begin. Let’s see if it works.”

The night is spent as the other nights in the clearing are. You goad each other into a type of dance, explosively throwing strikes and deftly dodging them. You do feel a slight encumbrance at the addition of the light armor, but it also makes you more bold. You take more chances as the night progresses, knowing that the padding will lessen the blow of the dull practice sword that he swings in your direction. The contact still hurts, though, and you quickly begin to tire. It doesn’t help that you haven’t practiced in over a week, either. Other than pure love for the art, stamina has to be another reason the emperor practices as much as he does. Without constant practice, you can expect to exhaust yourself quickly. And you’re absolutely already there. So you start making desperate moves, just so the match will end and you can rest a moment.

You take the opportunity to use your padded forearm to parry away an overhead strike, and he uses your open body posture to his advantage. He lunges forward, and you find yourself crashing onto the soft ground below, his weight fully on top of you. The practice blade falls out of your hand and topples into the grass. You’re both panting wildly, and you look up into his angry eyes.

“Have you forgotten that a sword has a blade, dove?” he asks, not even trying to hide the anger in his tone. 

“No, I…” you begin, but can’t find the words. You know what he’s getting at, but you’re too tired.

“If you were to pull that move in a real fight, with a real blade, you would be missing an arm,” he says coldly. He grabs the forearm you used to block.

“This isn’t metal. It’s cloth. Do you think a real sword could not pierce it?” he asks harshly. You don’t answer.

“Do you?!” he repeats, more forcefully. 

“It... could, Your Majesty…” you say, almost in a whisper. You aren’t sure why he’s so upset about this.

“Never do that again. Do you understand? You will never use your own body as a shield.” You can’t take it anymore. It’s been an entire week with not so much as a word, and now that you finally get to see him again, he’s fussing at you.

“I won’t ever have to,” you spit back at him, “I will never be in any real danger. I will never actually wield a true blade against another. Unlike you, I will never have to. This is all just for fun, and you know it. There’s no point in me pretending it’s real when it’s not. There’s no reason for me to treat this seriously when at the end of the day, it’s just a game. This is all just a game. This means nothing. Nothing real will come out of this, you know, because it can’t. It can’t matter. It can’t be real.”

He stands up and walks a few paces away from you. His fingers run through his hair, and you hear him sigh.

“What if it were real?” you barely hear him ask.

What?!

“Your Majesty?”

“Would you like to wield a real blade?”

There’s no point in lying. There’s no reason to hide what you want.

“Yes. I do,” you say. He sighs. Reaching for his own sword in the grass.

“Then do it,” he says, slowly closing the distance between you. He unsheathes his sword, holds the shining blade in his two open palms, and extends it out to you.

“But that’s your blade, My King…” you begin.

“Yes, dove, I am aware,” he replies, “I want you to use it. Tonight. Against me.”\

No. This isn’t fair.

“What will you use, then? It’s not fair if I have a blade and you do not. What if I… kill you?”

The king just chuckles.

“My dear, you have yet to land a strike to me, and you are worried that you’re going to kill me?” he says, rolling his eyes, before looking into yours again. You’re unconvinced. He just sighs.

“I promise, I’ll be fine.” 

You take the blade, and tighten your right hand around the tang. Your knuckles turn white under the stress. It’s lighter than you thought it would be. You step back and give it a few swings to test the balance and weight. You look at the glint of the moon on the blade, and then look up to meet the eyes of your king. He’s got the practice sword at the ready, and puts his left foot back into a ready stance. There’s not a drop of fear in his eyes. 

In fact, he looks more excited than he’s ever been. You feel a boldness rising through your belly, and you hoist up the blade. Each one of your strikes are met with the clang of his practice blade, and the shrill scrape of blade against metal rips through the night air.

He blocks each of your attacks with precision and ease, and before long, your body begins to betray you. Your dodges become much slower, and soon, you find it hard to take another step. He shows no signs of exhaustion; in fact, his blocks become even more forceful. You let the sword fall gently to the grass at your side, a clear sign to your opponent that you’re done.

He grins and slowly steps to where you stand panting and holds out both of his hands, palms up. You place his sword back into his possession, and crash onto the ground below. You catch your breath as you study the stars. You hear the metal as the emperor sheaths his blade, and you feel the grass shift as he sits next to you. 

“How did it feel?” he asks.

“Like…” you begin, before settling on the right word, “I was unstoppable.”

“Oh, I assure you,” he says with a chuckle, “you were quite stoppable.” 

“Yes, but that’s not how I felt!” you say, playfully hitting him on the arm.

“Yes, that is one of the blessings and curses of learning this discipline,” he says, running his fingers through your messy hair, “You gain confidence, but it can often be miscalculated.” He lets that sink in. He continues. 

“I would be doing you a disservice if I were to simply teach you the technique and forgo the attitude one must have. You see, dove, having the skill to wield a weapon in practice is different than an actual survival situation. Even here, your senses heighten and you feel your body strengthen with nerves, but in a real battle, that heightening of your senses can hold you back. It can cost you a limb. It can cost you your life.”

“Even though you will never see a real opponent, I have an obligation as your teacher to share with you everything I know,” he looks up at you, “I won’t allow for your knowledge to be single sided. A sword’s strength lies in it’s two blades, does it not?” Several beats pass as you take in everything he’s said.

“Thank you,” you say, “for everything. It was exciting to wield a true blade. The danger was… exciting.”

“You know, I had a feeling that you would feel that way. Perhaps I have one additional new thing to introduce you to this evening…”

He reaches over to your arm, where the light armor is fixed in place. He starts to untie the knots at your wrist, kissing the skin once exposed. With every time his lips meet your skin, your heart threatens to come up out of you. But no matter how much you missed him, you can’t stop the brat inside of you from coming out.

“I think I can remove my own armor,” you tease, pulling your arm away from him.

“Yes, but it’s much more fun when I do it,” he replies, grabbing a hold of your other arm. You let him slowly take off each piece of armor, and then your dress, and then your undergarments. He removes his own robe and tosses it to the side, leaving only his undershorts in place.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, wondering what your king has in store for you. 

He reaches over and unsheathes his sword, and everything you thought was going to happen melts away. 

“The danger excited you, dove?” he asks, casually examining his blade in front of you. 

“Yes, My King,” you reply cautiously, and then feel the need to explain yourself, “I...  didn’t know if the blade would cut… If it would slash you, or if I would make a mistake and nick myself…”

He slowly inches his blade closer to you, and stops right before making contact with the skin on your leg.

“Do you trust me?” he asks. You nod carefully, and he grins. “Be very still.” He turns his sword so that the flat side of the blade is facing you, and he slowly presses it against the hot skin of your thigh. The cool metal shocks you, but you are able to remain perfectly still, captivated by the danger of the blade. Every inch he drags the blade unearths something deep within your belly.

He finally removes it from your thigh, and places it in the grass to the side of your body as he kneels down. Now between your legs, he takes the tip of his nose and runs it up to the apex of your thighs, warm breath ghosting over where his cool blade had just been. He arrives at your cunt, and takes the tip of his nose to your clit.

“Mmm, you’re already wet… I knew you would enjoy that,” he says into your folds, “Maybe we should do it again.” Even though it doesn’t come out as a question, his eyes look up at you from his place in between your legs as if asking for permission. Mouth agape, you nod your consent.

“Excellent,” he says, licking a stripe up your slit.

He reaches for the sword at your side, and gives your clit one more sloppy kiss. You watch as the edge of the blade glimmers as he lifts himself up. You allow yourself to fully drop to the soft earth below, your messy hair strewn about the grass. He sits above you, and lowers his blade down so that the flat side of the tip barely touches your forehead. He removes it and places it again, but lower, cold and weighty on the pillows of your parted lips. 

He removes the blade and presses it lower still, at the dip in your clavicle, and begins to gently drag it down. As the blade slides down your chest, the chilling touch of the metal makes your pussy clench in anticipation. He slides the entire length between the mounds of your breasts, letting the tip trail down to your belly button, and as soon as the tip is about to reach your clit, he picks up the blade. He rotates it tip-side up, so that the hilt is to the ground. He takes the knob of the tang and presses it on your clit, moving in small circles against your bud. The king moves the shaft of the handle down until he’s teasing your entrance with it. 

He adds pressure, toying with inserting it into your eager slit. You buck your hips up and throw them in circles, desperately trying to get more friction against the hilt of his sword.

“Do you want something, dove?” the king asks nonchalantly, though his eyes betray him.

“Please, Your Majesty,” you whine, “please fuck me.”

“Hmmm,” he teases, “should I?”

“Please,” you whisper, on the verge of tears. It’s been an entire week. Even though you tried your hardest to push him out of your mind, your nightly dreams betrayed you. 

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he says, tossing his sword onto the grass to your left and pulling himself out of the top of his shorts. He runs his thumb over the tip, spreading the drops of precum that bead there. He rubs his length up your folds, taking the slick that’s there, before pressing into you. 

He doesn't allow you time to adjust to the stretch before he’s thrusting hard into you, but he knows by now that you like your pleasure with a drop of pain.

You buck your hips up into him to meet his thrusts, and reach up to touch his chest. A thin coat of sweat forms under your hand, and you slowly trace your hand down his torso until it meets his cock. He feels better than your dreams depicted, but you want more.

You use the last bit of your strength to sit up and push him down onto his back. The change in position pushes him deeper into you, and you grind hard onto him. 

“I think I like when your confidence is boosted, little one..” he says, “But don’t think you’re going to get away with that.”

He grabs your arms and pulls you down onto him, locking you in by wrapping his arms around your back. He pushes his hips up and begins snapping them up into you relentlessly. He moves his arms from securing your back to palming your ass cheeks, spreading them slightly to bring the shock of cool air.

He allows you to sit up, and you support your weight with your knees so that he can continue his pace. It’s not a difficult task, since you have grown in strength. The new angle has him hitting your most sensitive spot, and in seconds, you’re hurtling toward your climax. He reaches up and hooks one of his thumbs into your mouth, and that alone has you tumbling over the edge.

It’s not long before he finishes as well, spilling his seed inside of you. You collapse on top of him, having spent every ounce of energy you have. 

You both lay there for a moment, just holding each other. Taking in every detail you can about this moment. His parted lips, how his chest is still rising and falling as he catches his breath, the soft waves of his long, golden hair, how the muscles of his arm flex as he gently rubs your back. 

In the arms of your king, the only man in the world who isn’t permitted to love you, you feel at home.

Like a ton of bricks, you remember that you shouldn’t allow yourself this feeling, so you pull away from him. The last time you allowed yourself this luxury, it could have cost you your life. He slips out of you, and his seed begins to spill out as you stand. You go to retrieve your clothes, grabbing the cloth that was used to wrap your armor and using it to clean yourself. 

“We should go back,” you say, glancing back at him. His brows are slightly furrowed, and his face drops as you speak. 

“Yeah,” he says, focused on the ground and picking at some of the strands of long grass that poke at his arms. Distracting himself.

You turn back around so that he can’t see that your eyes are filling with tears.

 “Yeah.”

#bts smut #yoongi smut #emperor!yoongi #bts fanfiction #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts imagines #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #fantasy!au #emperor!au #the emperor's dagger #xmint-conditionx #knifeplay #swordplay? #dom!yoongi #sub!reader #fem!reader

[backofthebookshelf]

One of the nice things about the way the TMA fandom has reached full large-fandom levels of toxicity is that I no longer care if people get mad at me for my opinions on characters! So, some Georgie meta.

(Because fandom is and always has been Like That, I do feel the need to clarify here that I love Georgie, she's one of my favorite characters, characters are more interesting because of their flaws, and I have no investment in the idea that women or female characters are inherently better or more emotionally competent than men or male characters. If I talk a lot about her relationship with Jon, it's because Jon is our point of view character and also the person she interacts with the most. Also, this rambles, sorry.)

I've been thinking about the Season 4 Jon Trauma post and how much I liked the way it talked about Georgie, and it's convinced me that if Georgie could feel fear, she's the one who'd be most afraid of Jon out of all of them. She's the one protagonist we have whose only interaction with the powers has been as a direct victim of them. She doesn't know what they feel like from the inside, like Jon and Melanie; she doesn't know what they're like when they're someone you love, like Basira; she doesn't even know what they're like as petty middle management, like Martin and Tim. What she knows is that one time a monster ate her (only) friend and traumatized her so badly she spent a year in a suicidal depression.

And now her ex - and yes, Jon and Georgie have a remarkably comfortable relationship in the beginning of season three, but they're still exes and they broke up for reasons, even if we don't know exactly what they are - has turned up on her doorstep, shaking and possibly bloody, with nowhere else to go and no access to his home. He's clearly lying about what's going on. He repeatedly violates her house rules. And then he tells her that he's turning into one of those same kinds of monsters that traumatized her and ate her friend. It's clearly enough to override any remaining affection she had for him, and by any definition he has now positioned himself as a trigger.

(Through no fault of his own: the only real response he has to Georgie's statement is "I can't believe you didn't tell me." She's the one who assumes that he Knew, somehow, that she also had a statement; she's the one who suggests he had alternatives. Both suggestions are plausible but we don't actually know for certain that either are true.)

But Georgie isn't afraid of Jon because Georgie can't be afraid -at least, according to her. I'm not sure how much I believe this in the grand scheme of things; it seems like an extremely unlikely mechanism for one of the fears to have. It seems much more likely to me that she's just never met anything as terrifying as that encounter was, and her subjective sense of fear has been massively recalibrated. In which case not only meeting but having hosted in your home another monster who self-describes as similar to the one that was so terrifying that literal threats to your life are no longer distressing would...probably ping. But she's conceptualized herself as a person who doesn't feel fear; it's even possible that was part of her recovery, identifying this as a possible benefit of what would otherwise have been a universally terrible, soul-breaking experience. She looked existential terror in the face and survived, and came out of it a person who cannot be afraid of anything left on this earth. That's kind of a superhero origin story, and I can't blame her for it. I think anyone with a mental illness has at least tried to find ways in which their suffering has made them a better, stronger person.

But whether she's suppressing and rationalizing away any fear she feels or she genuinely doesn't feel any of it, she does frequently behave as though her lack of fear gives her a more objective view of the situation than anyone else. I don't believe she actually uses the word "just," but it drips from her every interaction with Jon after Dead Woman Walking. Why doesn't he just stop reading the statements? Why doesn't he just quit? And, in Zombie, I honestly can't interpret her reaction to Jon when he wakes up from his coma as anything other than, Why doesn't he just die? If he hates being this so much, if he really doesn't want to be a monster, why doesn't he just die?

I really would like to think that it goes without saying that this is, at the very least, a massive failure of empathy, but she's so explicit about it and fandom spent so much time basically agreeing with her that apparently it doesn't. Not only is Georgie not afraid of the situation, but (and this is the part that makes me wonder if she's not rationalizing, rather than being supernaturally unable to feel fear) she can't possibly fathom how afraid everyone else is, and she never tries. She persists in treating the whole awful situation, as @findingfeather's post says, like this is a mundane problem with people who are refusing to help themselves, rather than a supernatural trap that has been specifically built to be inescapable.

Now, let me be clear, even if she were talking to, say, a drug addict who nearly killed themselves because they were in denial about how much of a problem they had, her attitude would be unforgivable. But in this case Jon had no choice in whether or not to become addicted to statements; it was done to him in such a way that he didn't notice it was happening until withdrawal was already incapacitating. He also didn't have the option to leave, as Tim's extended vacation made clear. And, on top of all of that, the whole reason he was in a coma in the first place was that he was trying to save the world. (Neither he nor she knows at this point that he was doing nothing of the kind, so that's really not relevant.) And - look, when Jon came to her after the end of season two, he was asking for help. When he rejected the kind of help that she offered it was because he knew it didn't apply to the problems he actually had, but she treats that like it's his problem, which is something like offering a leg splint to a person bleeding out from a gunshot wound and getting offended when they tell you that won't work. He was very clear that what was happening scared him and he didn't know what to do about it, and her only suggestion was "walk away," which he literally could not do, for multiple reasons.

She's lucky Jon has pretty much precisely zero self-worth at this point, because anyone else would have cut her off completely for behaving like a fucking asshole.

I say "she's lucky" because frankly, even though she says that she wants nothing more to do with him, she turns up at least twice in the Institute after that, with the excuse that she's picking up Melanie to take her to therapy. I don't know about you, but I have never once gone to someone's workplace to pick them up and gone snooping around inside, and no matter how fascinatingly weird that workplace is, I definitely can't imagine doing so when I know that workplace also contains a person I have definitely decided I never want to speak to again. She goes into the Archives, for Christ's sake, and she listens outside Jon's office door for long enough to catch a bit of the recording before letting herself in (so it's very clear she knows who's in there).

Now I'm not trying to paint her as a monster here; Georgie would hardly be the first person to have second thoughts about cutting off someone they still care about, or to break that boundary that they set themselves when they realize they do still want to know how that person is doing. But the fact is that she positions herself as having the moral high ground in every single discussion they have and that's just not true. She is not literally a supernatural monster, true, but if season four did anything with the concept of monsters it was breaking down the difference between "supernaturally driven no-longer-human" and "person capable of caring and empathy." (That's a whole different meta, though, one that I will get around to someday.) Not that Jon is any better, in that encounter specifically, at dealing with a complicated and contentious relationship - he deliberately goads her, even if he doesn't use compulsion. But that's the thing, they're both exes who have had a falling out and aren't handling it very well. Neither of them is in the right.

All of which makes me really wonder what her relationship with Melanie is actually like. We don't actually see hardly any of it directly, and of what we do, well, Melanie sounds like she's still high on painkillers, so it's hard to take that as an indication of anything. But given that people (who are not intentionally trying to manipulate those around them) tend to, y'know, be fundamentally the same person in their various relationships, though it may manifest in different ways, we can probably make some guesses.

I have always been bothered by, and I really can't ignore, the fact that they were getting together at the same time that Melanie was doing what Georgie has been demanding of Jon since season three: she did whatever it took to get out. I have to wonder if Georgie knows about the nonconsensual surgery part of Melanie's process of getting out, and if she does, if she understands how vital it was. I certainly wouldn't be surprised, if she does know, that she's managed to compartmentalize it: Jon inflicted this terrible trauma on Melanie, Melanie escaped the entity that took her over. (Subconscious implication: Jon is a monster; Melanie is better than him.) I would be very surprised if Georgie is interested at all in the fine distinctions between entities; she's shown no interest in learning what is actually happening to anyone in this situation beyond "it's bad and they should get out of it." But it's relevant, because by the time Melanie makes the decision to blind herself, she's in a much different position than Jon, enslaved by an entity but not consumed by one. She herself admitted to Jon that she would never have voluntarily escaped from the Slaughter.

And given how difficult Melanie finds it to talk about any of this - you can hear her dragging the words out from behind her teeth in her conversation with Jon in Flesh, truly incredible acting by Lydia Nicholas, my god - if Georgie doesn't want to hear it? I can't imagine Melanie insisting. Yes, Melanie is going to therapy, but let me tell you, I've been going to therapy for twelve years now and I have yet to have several of the important conversations my therapists have insisted I have. That shit is hard. But I can imagine a scenario where, having been told by her therapist (who, remember, doesn't have the first idea what Melanie is actually going through, because Melanie isn't telling her about the supernatural so she has to leave out a lot of really relevant details) that she ought to tell her friend/potential girlfriend/new girlfriend about these things, Melanie attempts to bring it up, Georgie says kind and reassuring things and refuses to let her clarify any of the details, and Melanie gives up in relief, thinking, well, I tried. Super valid all around, but it doesn't mean that Georgie has any clearer picture of what Melanie's traumas actually look like, never mind Jon's. There's no world in which I can imagine Georgie actually internalizing the idea that Melanie loved the Slaughter when it had her, and she would gladly have stayed with it if Jon and Basira hadn't intervened.

In Georgie's eyes, Melanie is being a Good Victim. She was hurt but she was strong; she fought it until she won; now she's going to therapy and setting boundaries and trying to heal. She got away.

(Except, of course, she didn't, because as of The Eye Opens no one has gotten away, because this is the entire world now. We have no idea how this has affected Melanie. Presumably she's out of reach of the Eye, given that Jon can't see her or Georgie (and there's some evidence on the side of Georgie's encounter genuinely having stripped her of fear, if she's also invisible to the Eye), but she spent a long time under the influence of the Slaughter. It had her firmly enough that her attacking Jon was enough to give him his Slaughter scar. If nothing else, Melanie certainly hasn't had her fear removed, and talk about a situation bound to retraumatize someone who had such a visceral revulsion to being trapped that Elias chose it as his mechanism of control over her. Melanie probably doesn't look like a Good Victim any more, and I'd bet her relationship with Georgie is suffering some serious strain because of it.)

We don't know when exactly Melanie and Georgie got together; the last time one of them mentions the other is, I'm pretty sure, when Georgie tells Jon that Melanie is back from India. So we know that Georgie and Melanie were friends; that's good, that's a good foundation for a romantic relationship. At the very least they know each other, they have some idea of what to expect. I'd be surprised if they were dating during that season 3/4 hiatus period, though, or frankly any time before Melanie's surgery, just because Melanie seems much too consumed with rage to have room for any other emotions, and I can't imagine Georgie putting up with that.

What seems way more likely to me is this: Melanie comes back from India, arranges to meet Georgie for drinks. Probably they don't talk about anything serious; possibly they talk about Jon, honestly, since we know Melanie was looking for him and Georgie talked to him about Melanie, but very likely in the same "stuck-up pompous ass" way that Melanie talks about Jon in early seasons. (I bet Melanie's roasts are amazing.) Shortly after that Melanie joins the Magnus Institute and then, very likely, either she never tells Georgie about it and therefore they don't talk much or she does tell Georgie about it and Georgie tells her that place is bad news and she won't have anything to do with it and they don't talk at all, until, whichever way that went, the Unknowing happens and Tim dies and Jon winds up in a coma and everything goes to shit. We know Georgie visits Jon in the hospital; we don't know if Melanie does, but frankly it seems unlikely. If they did cross paths during this time, it was probably very brief and superficial. Then: the surgery, and Melanie's recovery.

I'll be honest, I have a hard time imagining Melanie deciding on her own that she should go to therapy. It's possible Basira suggested it, but it really does sound like a Georgie thing to do. So I picture something like this: from the way Basira talks it sounds like they've all been pretty much living in the Archives for a while, and on top of that everyone in the Archives has just badly violated Melanie's trust, so Melanie pulls up her Facebook DMs and talks to the only other person she has. You were right, she says, this place is terrible, I can't handle it, there's no one here I can trust and I'm so alone. And Georgie, who is generous with help and advice (so long as it's accepted) and (like anyone) weak to being told she was right about something, starts talking to her. We know Georgie's got good boundaries, and we know she doesn't want to hear details about what's going on in the Institute, so I can see her saying, I can talk to you, I would love to talk to you, but not about this. For that you need a therapist.

So Melanie gets a therapist, and the prospect of going out amongst the monsters they know are stalking the Institute without that protective shield of rage (never mind the emotional vulnerability of going to therapy in the first place) makes public transit an unthinkable option, so she asks Georgie to take her, and she does, and she keeps taking her to therapy, which is, as far as we know, the only time Melanie leaves the Archives in season four, until she blinds herself and escapes it completely.

And so they have this relationship that's built up almost entirely around Melanie's trauma - with a foundation of friendship, certainly, so I do think that if they are willing to work through it they could make it a working, healthy relationship, but (and again this isn't stated in canon but is my speculation based on what we know about these characters) it is a romantic relationship that's built around the process of Melanie recovering from multiple traumas. Ones that we know that Georgie a) doesn't know many details about, and b) more importantly, refuses to know any details about. Now, I have no experience with romantic relationships and serious trauma; I might be wildly off base here. But. I know that boundaries are important and I know that trust is also important. And if Georgie is holding similar boundaries with Melanie that she has with Jon (and, as I went into excruciating detail about earlier, she has very solid emotional reasons to protect herself with those boundaries), that's drawing a hard line around what's basically the past two to three years of Melanie's life, and undeniably both the worst and most important things that have ever happened to her. That seems...difficult to manage in the long term.

(This is a bit more of a stretch, more of the germ of a fic idea than an argument I'm prepared to defend, but I also would not be surprised if Georgie told Melanie that she wouldn't date her while she was still working at the Institute. That's a very reasonable boundary, and it's good motivation - and probably healthy motivation, I do like the idea that Melanie had something to reach toward in escaping the Institute, not just the desperate flight from - but it's also something of an ultimatum. Which is not inherently bad, but it is the kind of thing that can fester, given other problems.)

Now it's entirely possible that Georgie isn't that internally consistent. People aren't! (See: Basira's attitude toward Daisy vs her attitude toward Jon in season four.) Maybe she's more flexible about being willing to listen to Melanie, maybe she's starting to understand some of what was happening and how genuinely impossible a situation it really was. But that has to be a struggle for her, too; it's not a perfect, sweet, unconditionally good situation that teaches you that you've been unfair to the point of cruelty to someone you used to care about. And by the time the apocalypse rolls around, Melanie is, if she's lucky, just barely able to say she's healed from the plain physical trauma of blinding, never mind all the other baggage. They've got to be having a rough fucking time of it, at the very least, even if you assume that they're suddenly both the kind of people who will sit still and listen supportively and talk honestly about their own messy and complicated emotions, when neither of them have been that kind of person before.

(Another disclaimer because Fandom Is Like That: This is in no way a condemnation of or argument against fluffy What the Girlfriends fic; fic is for making fluffy things that you want to happen to your faves, or building fluffy content that you desperately need for whatever reason. Gods know there are plenty of unhealthy parts of Jon and Martin's relationship that I ignore in most of my fluffy fic. This is me attempting to work through my thoughts and feelings about the relationship I see in canon in the hopes of actually being able to write some fic about these girls myself someday, because I personally can't write fic until I understand canon, and so much of them happens offscreen because they're not main characters, and they're written with such depth and complexity that you can't just slap a stereotype on them and call it good. Which is awesome! But it means I gotta do the work, and I post it because a) it's work, and this is fandom, and I want validation; and b) I'm hoping other people have insights that might also help me clarify my thinking.)

#the magnus archives #tma #georgie barker #jonathan sims #melanie king #long post #real fuckin' long post #sorry #it's a meta party #cw suicide #cw addiction