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cloudy-leonhart · 3 years

Note

I JUST READ YOUR VETERANS WITH FILIPINO S/O AND IM SO PROUD WCEIWVEHHW, can i also request a veteran reaction to like, their s/o gets flirted with a guy and their s/o is totally oblivious. (also, nanaba is very cute, ate nana 😭✊)

wait but this is such a good request 🥺 maybe that’s just me, I like jealous headcanons lmao-

———

AOT VETERANS JEALOUS HCS WITH OBLIVIOUS S/O!!

[author note: I have a few fic requests in my inbox rn! Please dw if u requested a fic, it takes me a little longer to write fics than headcanons so please don’t think I’m ignoring your request! I also had to rewrite this, I had a bad weekend and tumblr keeps deleting my drafts but I still want to provide for my followers, so I apologize that it’s only half of the veterans! I’ll add Nanaba and Moblit once I do get the motivation too! ]

Summary: S/O get’s flirted with, vets are big jealous babies.

Gender Neutral Reader.

Recommended Song: How Long - Charlie Puth.

TW: some swearing, suggestive themes, yucky boys hitting on you.

Theme: Fluff, canonverse.

Characters: Erwin, Hange, Levi, Miche.

Erwin Smith

Honestly even he couldn’t tell at first that the noble man (lets call him, Gene.) you were talking to was flirting with you.

You were absolutely oblivious, you think Gene is just having a conversation with you and Gene thinks you like him.

When Erwin notices it, at first he’s like “hmm, maybe Reader’s talking business with him.” And then Gene kissed the back of your hand, in which he felt his eye twitching. He started pouting really bad, he looked like a kicked puppy from across the ballroom. He didn’t want to be rude, so he kept reassuring himself that it was a friendly gesture.

You were absolutely clueless, like “this is fine.” clueless. You had no idea Gene was trying his hardest to court you. Until You felt Erwin behind you, that is.

You know those big coughs that you do to get someone’s attention. Yeah, Erwin coughed REALLY loud. Mind you, Erwin probably towers most nobles. So imagine the face on Gene when he saw this tall, titan-slaying commander towering over him. I think he almost peed his pants honestly, he was like “uh..it was nice meeting you, miss Last name, but uh..I- I uhm.. Igottago-“

Yeah he speed-walked his scared ass outta there, you were kinda just like “what?” You saw Erwin’s shadow and just turned around with the cutest smile on your face.

“Erwin!” You chirped, he softened his glare on the noble and looked at you, cue his pout coming back. “You really didn’t know?”

“Know what?” You asked, walking with him, hand in hand. You guys were walking back to your carriage to go home for the night.

“Reader, he was flirting with you, quite literally trying to court you.” Erwin groaned, his jealousy starting to show. You were still a bit confused, so you just stared at him with a blank expression.

“He was just being nice Erwin, come on.” You nudged his arm, trying to get him to loosen up, he looked at you, in which you looked at him with puppy dog eyes, in response he groaned, being a sucker for your puppy dog eyes.

He huffed, “you’re staying back at the headquarters from now on.” Your eyes widened slightly, “What?! Why?!” You shook him arm. “Because I don’t want you being flirted with, you’re mine reader, and I’m yours.” Erwin squished your cheeks together.

“Owf Cwouse I’m youws-“ you took his hands off your cheek. “You’re the only man for me,” you laughed as you entered the carriage.

“Now get in, I’m feeling a little empty inside and you’re the only who can fix that.”

Levi Ackerman

Oh dear, if you’re willing to flirt with the Levi Ackerman’s S/O, you’re basically asking for a death wish.

He usually isn’t too jealous when it comes to someone flirting with his S/O genuinely because he’s either busy doing something or he isn’t there at all but...

He’s not called Humanity’s Strongest for nothing. Both of you were in charge for training the cadets. You were known for your kind behaviour, so obviously a lot of the cadets would ask for your training.

In which Levi was okay with because, duh less work for him. He was doing fine until he glanced at you and saw a male cadet getting a little too close. (calling him, Sam.)

You guys were in a secret relationship at the time, he didn’t want anyone teasing you or him about anything so both of you kept it a secret.

See, he regrets that decision right now because it’s really a pain in the ass to see Sam acting like he doesn’t know the moves when he knows damn well he taught the brat those moves a week ago.

So with a clenched jaw, he glared at Sam as you were behind the cadet, teaching him the same move Levi taught him.

Levi looked across the field to see you behind Sam, helping him strike his punch correctly, he felt angered and a little jealous, watching you be so touchy with him.

He sighed and shook his head, trying to calm himself to keep him from doing something, that is until he watched as Sam tripped you just so he could “catch” you. He caught you in those romantic poses.

You weren’t really paying attention to what he was trying to achieve and instead thanked him, unaware of his plan to kiss you. You tried to get out of Sam’s hold, until you realized that Sam was getting close to you.

You were about to start freaking out until someone pulled you into their arms, you looked at your “saviour”’s face, seeing it’s Levi. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing to a section commander, cadet?” Sam gulped, walking back. “Just making sure captain Reader’s okay, captain Levi.” Sam saluted, sweating profusely.

“That requires you tripping them and almost kissing them?” Levi’s eyebrow raised as his arm tightened against your waist, that’s when a lightbulb lights up in your mind, ‘Is..is Levi jealous??’ “uh well-” Sam tried to explain himself, “I taught you this move last week, you have no excuse to ask for captain Reader’s help.”

A scowl was long planted on Levi’s face. Sam scoffed, “Okay, so I wanted to court captain Reader, but Sir, they’re single, you can’t blame for wanting to court them.” Levi took a step forward, you prevented him from beating Sam up.

“They’ve got a boyfriend.” He spat out, basically death staring Sam down. “And who’s that?” Sam laughed out.

Levi clicked his tongue, before you knew it, Levi’s lips were on yours. “Me.” He stated.

Hange Zöe

Hange, they usually are chill most of the times, to be honest they don’t get too jealous, it’s only when it’s painfully obvious, that’s when it starts to tick them off.

I mean, making Levi Ackerman mad is one thing, but Hange?? I’m already planning your funeral. One of the corps’ rules, never ever make Hange Zöe mad.

It does not help when their S/O absolutely is oblivious.

Hange starts off with being a little skeptical and glancing at you from afar. then it becomes a stare once in a while, and then their mood gets soiled.

they start to become irritated, at this one garrison squad member (let’s name him Avery) talking with you. You should actually be helping them with their experiments.

And they snap when they see you being offered a flower.

Little clueless Reader, just confirmed Avery’s death, it’s been signed this point on.

You could hear AND feel Hange’s stomps nearing both you and Avery.

God help the poor garrison member, because they’re about to be sent to heaven with how jealous and irritated Hange is.

“Hey, Avery.” Hange’s voice cut through your guys’ conversation, “Hange!” you chirped, holding onto the flower Avery had gifted you. “Hange! You’ve met Reader here right?” Avery asked, also unaware of Hange’s attitude.

“yes, they’re actually my partner.” Hange’s teeth was gritted as they took their rightful place beside you, pulling you close. Cue the awkward silence, “Oh my god, Hange I’m so sorry, I thought they were you know-” Hange didn’t even let him finish.

“Just get the fuck out, Avery.” Hange gave him a glare that almost made Avery shit his pants. “Yes captain!” He saluted and left before Hange could murder him. “What was that about, Hange?” You asked as they took the flower out of your hand.

“He was courting you, and you were letting him, darling.” Hange stated, as you covered your mouth with your hand, “Oh! I’m sorry Hange! Darn it, I’m so oblivious.” You scolded yourself.

“It’s good you can still remember that you belong to me.” Hange continued, inspecting the flower gifted to you. “Of course, you only, Hange.” You agreed, looking at them.

“Wanna prove it to me then, Reader?”

Miche Zacharias

Miche is kind of like a grizzly bear, you should never be around him when he’s mad or jealous.

He tends to be more aggressive when it comes to him being irritated, I don’t mean to headcanon him as a wolf, but I know he just growls when a little thing goes wrong.

He’s possessive over you now, but now he’s basically just suffocating you with his over-protectiveness.

I feel as if he can tell when someone has some kind of weird scent, and it basically spoils everything he can smell.

He tends to hover around you once he gets jealous, he’ll get clingy and probably need to have you touching him somehow, holding hands, side by side. He just needs to be touching you.

He’s the type of person to also just, push away who ever you’re talking with, and just drag you away.

One time, you and him went on a date and the person who worked there hit on you right in front of him, Miche made him almost piss his pants.

Miche and you were out at an event for survery corps members, celebrating your recent successes with your latest expedition. Miche was with Erwin and Levi while you chatted up a storm with a noble named Walter.

Miche could feel himself about to break his glass, watching you and Walter laugh together. “So, are you seeing anyone?” Walter asked, you stopped laughing, shocked that he’d ask you that question out of nowhere.

“What?-” At this point Walter had a hold of both of your hands, you were absolutely still in place, “Actually don’t mind that, can I court you?” A big smile was on Walter’s face, wondering about your answer. “I-”

“You actually can’t, they have a boyfriend.” Miche had long appeared behind you, towering over both you and Walter. You closed your eyes, in a bit of relief, “Yes, this is Miche, he’s a section commander and my boyfriend.” You smiled, hooking your hand with Miche’s, silently hoping that Walter would leave you both alone.

“Ah, I’m terribly sorry, I thought you didn’t have a partner, that’s my fault.” Walter quickly apologized, seeing how intimidating Miche was. “well, I-..I should go, it was lovey meeting you and your boyfriend, Reader.” Walter speed-walked his way out of his situation, leaving you with a pouty and jealous Miche.

“Why talk to those who look like they have it tiny, Reader?”

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cant-think-of-anything · 3 years

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I think part of the reason that there’s such a dissonance between what kind of character Matthew is ~supposed~ to have and what kind of poor traits shine through, especially in his treatment of Alastair, is not just because of CC’s poor handling of alcoholism (and, in my opinion, mental health issues and depression) but also because: Our first introduction to these characters happened a long ways before some major changes to TLH.

Namely… Alastair and Cordelia were basically white in CC’s original planning. There’s just no way around that. Their flower cards, where they’re not just whitewashed but purely white, prove that (and they STILL haven’t been updated, by the way.)

Also, Alastair’s hair: in CoG it was dyed blond, and CC wrote it off implicitly as a racism thing when she decided he was Persian (which I guess happened after the short story where we met Alastair and before TLH) , which would have been fine it if it was an arc written better. Except, I don’t think she realized that it would make Matthew’s comments about Alastair inherently and obviously racist, being a white author. And I doubt that it will be dealt with and named or even acknowledged outright in the final TLH installment.

Kind of the same thing with Cordelia. I’m not saying POC can’t have like red hair because obviously POC don’t come in a prepackaged set of five or six traits that are all configured randomly, but something has always rubbed me the wrong way about the way that CC writes the majority of her POC and especially WOC as exotic. I mean, Kamala as a character is to me a special favorite (even though CC did her dirty and didn’t do a good job portraying her character or intersectional identity) but I rolled my eyes so hard when she had lighter brown or “amber” eyes in canon or officially commissioned art. With Cordelia, I know CC once said she uses henna to redden her hair which is great for her, and I guess I have less of a bone to pick with that because it’s semi(?) realistic, but still. Also the fact that so much of her description as a beautiful person comes from her hair. Again that’s cool, and women of color should be loved wholly including being loved for the parts of them that they freely change (such as Cordelia’s hair) but… the proportion of the fixation on her hair as what makes her lovely rubs me the wrong way sometimes. I feel like it’s sometimes an out from CC making the ~scandalous~ decision that a woman of color can be beautiful because of the traits she is born with. Idk it’s just for me I had this long standing repulsion towards my colorings and my facial structure and white girls would tell me I was whiny about it and then I finally began to piece together things like “Eurocentric beauty standards.”

Going on a tangent slightly, but something else that bothered me was when Anna insulted Cordelia after buying her those dresses and everyone kinda treating it as a compliment? And just cause Cordelia, a fictional teenager, didn’t get mad about it doesn’t mean readers of color can’t see the underlying racism behind “Cordelia looks MUCH better in these dresses which are SUITED for her skin tone.”

I think that narrative could have been handled much better: if it was Cordelia picking out her own clothes as an act of maturity and self-realization and ownership, if Cordelia herself said (in a different way lol) “Damn right I can wear lavender ruffles if I want to and crimp my hair but I’m not going to let white fashion prevent me from outshining everyone because dark skinned women INVENTED jewel tones.” And I think some people will argue that Cordelia’s context makes this too self aware of a development but I would say that it would have been a powerful part of her development outside of her relationships, especially considering that she’s supposed to be a main protagonist. Full arcs for the win baby!

But even aside from all that what bothered me about Anna’s dresses was the fact that it was a white woman showing the “truth” or the “right way” or “saving” a woman of color, a trope which I don’t think CC intended but committed nonetheless. I think from a white author POV the thinking was “Anna is such a free bohemian who lives true to herself and she’s going to help Cordelia become that way too,” which irks me because I feel like that just worked against CC in terms of POC rep and also because that same ideology is used in an attempt to make Anna’s treatment of Kamala justified even though Anna as an out person, with racial and economic privilege and the support of an extensive and powerful family network, pressured and tormented Kamala into coming out.

I have a lot of thoughts on that relationship, mainly: it shouldn’t have been dragged out this long because from the beginning, Every Exquisite Thing, it was clear they were looking for different things. And if CC had left it at that and let them go on their separate ways after a week of knowing each other that would have been fine: Kamala can’t do an out and proud relationship and Anna doesn’t want secrecy, so they’ll develop on their own. And then later Kamala’s pursuit of Anna in the actual TLH books was I think meant to be a thing about “the lengths you’ll go for true love” but it felt forced. Honestly… It just feels icky. like this woman of color is just so hung up on this white woman who abuses her repeatedly and can’t handle her own misogyny and internalizations. And I hate that because both had such awesome potential! To me it’s less that I dislike Anna ( I’d need a whole other post to explain that) and more that I dislike CC for wanting so bad to claim sapphic rep but not wanting to put in the effort to portray it effectively- and pretty much all that entails is writing the relationship without acting like it exists in a pseudo-vacuum where the history and realities of interracial relationships and queerphobia don’t exist in the way we obviously recognize and experience.

And characters like Cordelia and Alastair are amazing and have so much potential; I think the true origin of the problems with their portrayal is that they weren’t really intended as POC or even queer representation in the first place. I don’t know if Cassie would have taken a different approach to her characterization had she known Alastair would be a brown gay man when she first introduced him, but I hope it would have at least made her more conscientious of the inherent application of colonialism and racism in her storytelling from that point onward.

I want to finally add that I’m not saying any portrayal of racism is bad. I’m saying that the racism in the story is not part of a conscious framework that critiques racism appropriately. I think CC wrote the beginnings of the narrative, decided she was going to develop the diversity point content, and then either didn’t look back at the older content to analyze it and the other (white characters) through a new lens of race and outsiderness and queer personhood, or she looked at it and didn’t know what to do with it, or looked at it and didn’t care.

Sorry this got so long! Thanks for listening.

- A.

I feel like CC handled everything poorly in regards to characters who had a lot of potential.

The fact that Cordelia and Alastair are both originally white and it's so obvious in the way every bit of racism is handled by the characters. Matthew's comments in CLS are very important and they should've been handled with the same severity that Alastair's words were. CC changing the characters to POC was a big decision and when she did so she should've went back and actually read her own material. I can assure you that it will not be handled in CHOT, my expectations for CC recognizing the importance and gravity in the words she writes regarding racism or any of her "implied racism" bullshit have gone to the ground.

Because while golden eyes are obviously so easy to write when discussing discrimination obviously racism is out of the question /j

THAT'S EXACTLY IT, women of color in these books are so pathetically rare that on the rare occurrence that she does write them they should all be given these features that aren't as common in POC and written as more beautiful because of those features. I read CHOG after I became more appreciative of my ethnic features but if I had read this a year or so ago? Or even if I had read it after just feeling insecure in general? It would've been awful. The implication is that the lighter features in POC are the most beautiful, with Cordelia's red hair being put on a higher pedestal than her dark eyes and Kamala's eyes being focused on more than her hair (because I literally went back and counted the numbers to prove it and it's exactly what happens.)

I'm sure Cordelia's hair is stunning, but it's the way that when she's described (or more accurately being sexualized) it is just her hair and body that is shown, not the color of her skin or the color of her eyes.

God the pastel thing pisses me off so much. It's not even that Anna tells Cordelia that she would look better in darker colors it's that she says it suits her skin tone. Implying that anyone with brown skin should be barred from wearing pastels. And Kamala? In the few times she is described, she's wearing dark colors or champagne gold, never light blue or purple or pink WHICH HONESTLY SUITS HER PERSONALITY. It's also the way that the dresses Anna sent her are described to be more revealing- it's weird. Anna barely knew her when she started dictating everything that Cordelia could put on her body.

“Damn right I can wear lavender ruffles if I want to and crimp my hair but I’m not going to let white fashion prevent me from outshining everyone because dark skinned women INVENTED jewel tones.”

I literally would have loved that. It recognizes that she doesn't need to follow these "rules" on what to wear but still shows her choosing what she wants to wear without making all the darker skinned readers feel like they can't wear a certain color.

I think what some people fail to realize is that these books are also aimed at upper elementary and middle school and a middle schooler with dark skin reading something like that? In a book with characters they love? It's going to be so harmful

Someone else mentioned that CC said Kamanna's relationship was complicated because Kamala didn't defend Anna: Defend her FROM WHAT? Literally what is there to threaten Anna?

These books are filled with tokenism and then praised for it. The idea of Kamala X Anna has so much potential but they're portrayed in such a toxic way. Throughout the last through books Kamala puts herself through so much guilt and regret and turmoil just for Anna to literally use her, blame her, and cast her aside. And it's so fucking annoying because it pushes this idea that this woman of color who was terrified and in an extremely vulnerable position is in the wrong for choosing her safety and presents them as guilty and shameful for doing such a thing.

I would disagree, the portrayal of racism is bad, because it is used at random points in the story and never brought up again, if you interduce racism take it seriously it's not the kind of thing you're meant to half-ass in a book thousands of people will read

I agree on everything else though, so much of these books are incredibly harmful and they are presented to a young audience so it's overall just a gross situation

Thank you for the ask though! I loved answering this, if you ever have anything else you're more than welcome to come back <3

#kamala joshi #alastair carstairs #cordelia carstairs #tw racism #tw sexualization of minors #tw sexualization #anti anna lightwood #anon #asks #tw swearing #long post #tlh #anti cc #the last hours #let me know if i missed a tag #also let me know if i got anything wrong

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 09 first part

(Masterpost) (More Canary Funsies)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

This episode features so many eternal minutes of zombie shambling that I thought I could fit everything into a single post. HA HA HA HA nope.

Zombie Temple

The trio do their best to fend off the not-zombies in the temple. Lan Wangji tells Wei Wuxian that he can’t go carving them up because they’re not actually dead, and drops a callback to their very first meeting at the gate of Cloud Recesses, when Wei Wuxian caught his attention with his pillowy lips comment on the not-dead cultivator.

Lan Wangji: You said it in that golden moment that will be seared into my memory for eternity, where I heard your voice and laid eyes on your angelic face and lost my heart forever, remember? Come on, babe, it was our very first zombie! How baked were you?

Wei Wuxian: I jerk off to the sword-fighting memory, not the zombie memory, you weirdo.

Nie Huaisang’s fear of the definitely not undead has apparently gotten him the rest of the way over his fear of Lan Wangji, because he’s now yelling “Lan-Xiong!” right along with “Wei-Xiong!” as he struggles. Note that although he later mentions that his fan is made of some fancy metal, we don’t see any evidence that he wants to fight with a fan any more than he does with a blade. I don’t hate anyone’s fan-fighting NHS headcanon, but my take is that he just isn’t a physical fighter, and that’s ok.

This is a good time to remember that our entire experience of the Nie clan so far in this story is 1. Clever but hopelessly combat-unready tiny artiste Nie Huaisang 2. Quietly helpful, absurdly pretty sidekick Meng Yao.

We don’t know yet that Nie Huasang’s gege and Meng Yao’s sugar daddy is literally the toughest motherfucker in the entire cultivation world. But his friends do! Which makes me love these dynamics even more, because not one of them criticizes Nie Huaisang for being the person he is.

(more after the cut!)

Never Let Me Go

This scene is where Wei Wuxian gives his tacit consent to being used as the eventual agent of Nie Huaisang’s vengeance....ok not really.

But he does make it clear what Nie Huaisang should do when he’s in a pickle. And NHS doesn’t forget things.

Priorities

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji isn’t nearly as patient as Wei Wuxian, and he drops a silence spell on Nie Huaisang basically out of annoyance. It’s not like they’re trying to be sneaky.

Lan Wangji: How about you have an exquisitely crafted ceramic cup of shut the fuck up?

Flute Girl

Wen Qing comes to the rescue by summoning all of the not-zombies, who happen to be her extended family, to come toast some marshmallows.

She’s another person who unwisely demonstrates, where Wei Wuxian can hear her, the power of flutes over zombies.

This move doesn’t seem to do anything important but it looks cool.

Brother Dynamic: Bad. Really Bad.

Jiang Cheng shows up in the temple and trolls everyone, because this is a great time for childish antics. Wei Wuxian is super happy to see him and runs over to hug him, which earns him a shoulder slam.

This is a regular part of their body language with each other. Wei Wuxian covers his hurt reaction very, very quickly, with a smile that doesn’t involve very much of his face.

Wei Wuxian is so good at pretending his feelings aren’t hurt, he probably convinces himself.

Then he gives a too-honest answer when Jiang Cheng accuses him of...daring to enjoy himself, basically.

That’s more truth than Jiang Cheng was looking for, and he raises a hand to Wei Wuxian, who hides behind Nie Huaisang. This move is interesting because on one level it’s just clowning; obviously Nie Huaisang can’t protect WWX from anything, and WWX doesn’t need protection from Jiang Cheng.

WWX can easily beat JC in a fight, as he’s let us know before. On another level, this retreat signals WWX’s harmlessness, his childlike-ness, in a semiotic dance that has been playing out for over a decade between the brothers. NHS is taking on Jiang Yanli’s role in the choreography, this time.

All of this troubling hostility doesn’t make Jiang Cheng a bad person. He’s young and he’s still under his parents’ control and subject to their abuse at home. It takes time to develop mindfulness about this stuff and learn to treat people beneath you differently than the way you are treated.

Jiang Cheng isn’t ready for that yet, any more than he is ready to say out loud that he cares about his brother.

Leave My Boyfriend Out of It

This interaction is noteworthy for Wei Wuxian defending Lan Wangji to his brother, before Jiang Cheng even has a chance to blame Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian says that following Lan Wangji was his own idea, and then gives LWJ the sweetest, warmest smile.

Lan Wangji also gets a pair of totally unearned, delighted smiles of thanks from his two besties when he lifts the silence spell on Nie Huaisang.

Being mildly dickish all the time works out fine, I guess, if you only make friends with people whose brothers are legendary grouches.

Grilling Wen Qing

Wei Wuxian finally decides he’s had enough of Wen Qing’s crap, and gets slightly aggressive in questioning her.

He’s not actually roughing her up but he is approaching her as a near-enemy for the first time, rather than as someone who wants to be her friend. Once Wen Qing tells him what’s up and agrees to a sort of temporary alliance, he goes back to being his normal slightly awkward self with her.

I don’t romance-ship WQ and WWX, except maybe as corpse-mountain era FWB, but I do like their chemistry. And their friendship is really refreshing and interesting, based on sharing goals and working together, not on emotional intimacy. It’s nice to see people with a lot of barriers around their hearts, building a strong, trusting bond without having to actually open up very much.

The idea of perfect sharing between people is a nice one, but it’s pretty alien to many of us who are recovering from trauma, or people who just aren’t wired that way, and it’s good to see other models of friendship and love.

Wei Wuxian, at Lan Wangji’s direction, parts the Red Sea drops a cage on the other 3 cultivators before going to hunt the dire birdy.

Jiang Chang is, predictably, pissed off about it, in spite of Wei Wuxian’s “you’re good at this” parting words, and says, according to the subtitles, “you bastard!”

“Bastard” is a pretty specific epithet, in English. In the current century, it’s generally used to mean “asshole,” more or less. But it still does carry the meaning “of illegitimate birth,” and since The Untamed is often concerned with legitimacy it seems pretty strong for JC to use with someone who is rumored to be his own Dad’s by-blow.

Let’s have a look and see what he really is calling him... 你混蛋 = Nǐ húndàn = “you bastard” per Google translate. Wow, Jiang Cheng, you really went there, huh.

Wen Granny

Wen Qing and the others in the golden cage watch as the not-zombies try half-heartedly to get to them. Wen Qing is super sad about it, as opposed to the two guys who are just annoyed (Jiang Cheng) or scared (Nie Huaisang).

The first time I saw this, it was just - oh, Wen Qing sympathizes with this poor random woman, she feels bad about what's happening, this is to show us she has a heart.

Now though -- that's HER granny. Maybe not her bio-grandma but clearly a granny of her clan, who she knows well, who later cares for A-Yuan when he's a child, so may very well have cared for A-Qing and A-Ning when they were small, too. Owie.

Dire Bird Hunting

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian run off to hunt the smoke bird together. They are quickly trapped in cool-looking fog. Kudos to the Director of Photography.

They spend some time being confused and also being peak Wangxian 1.0 as they help each other out.

Lost in the fog and unable to summon talismans, Wei Wuxian is mainly about checking on Lan Wangji, making sure he’s ok, making sure he’s near. He doesn’t spare any worry for himself.

(We get a rare instance of seeing an actually glowing sword here, instead of just having a character say “I saw the beams of swords!” to save money on VFX.)

Lan Wangji, meanwhile, understands the mental attack they are under, explains it to Wei Wuxian with only a little snark about Wei Wuxian’s overly busy mind, and teaches him how to handle it.

Lan Wangji is super disciplined in mind, body, and sword - his fight moves don’t change, really, throughout his life, but he gets better and better at execution. Wei Wuxian isn’t exactly undisciplined, but he’s super creative and busts out a new skill in nearly every encounter. Lan Wangji sees this and is learning to make use of it.

After Lan Wangji helps Wei Wuxian overcome the confusion that is blocking his talisman use, he tells him which talisman to use.

This isn’t a talisman that LWJ uses himself, it’s just that he’s paying very close attention to WWX’s battle moves, and has a great memory, so he knows which ones will work. In a pretty short timespan he’s moved from thinking like a solo swordsman to thinking as part of a team with a broad range of battle skills. Very soon, he’ll be starting to use Wei Wuxian’s talismans himself.

WWX takes a hit from the flying death chain, but uses it to his advantage, as in so many encounters. He’s not just self-sacrificing--he is definitely that--but he’s also a chess player, knowing how to use a sacrifice or an injury to his advantage. Cue Lan Wangji being worried for the entire rest of his life.

Part Two is here!

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #wangxian #chen qing ling #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #wen qing

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mostlycompetentwriter · 3 years

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Start Line (Part One of Two)

M/F Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 7.2K

Genre: Boys over Flowers AU! Strangers to enemies to potential lovers!

Summary: Starting a new school is never easy, but the four rich and popular boys who pretend like they’re above the rest of the student population? Well, that makes everything even worse.

A/N: You don’t need to watch the show to understand, but it might be fun! AKA this is a Kdrama recommendation.

Also, I’m super sorry to the anonymous user who asked for this and probably impatiently waited for me to get a grip!!!

Tagging @skzwriternet

For my entire life, I’ve had to work harder than everyone else to secure the things that I wanted the most.

Which is why nothing could enrage me more than the sight of the four boys sitting on the bleachers together in my new school’s gymnasium.

I had just recently transferred into the school on a swimming scholarship, and a young student assistant offered to give me a tour of the facilities before my first day of scheduled classes. Her name was Suzy, and she had enough intel on the school’s population that even the CIA would be jealous.

I wasn’t normally one for drama, but Suzy’s warning about the school’s infamously named “F4″ was enough to leave me feeling cautious: “You see those guys over there?” she had asked when we sat down together on the bleachers. “It’s fair to say that they run the school, so most people try to avoid pissing them off.”

The boys in question were all starters for the school’s accolade-heavy basketball team. Apparently, that meant a lot in this affluent and well-endowed community, and I could tell that they considered themselves with the highest regard. Especially the oldest, a handsome blonde whose killer accent was surely the ruin of any one of those poor girls who flocked around them like they were desperate for attention.

“Bang Chan,” Suzy informed me. “He’s the leader, and his family owns an entire line of luxury hotel chains.”

“I guess that means something special?” I remarked, and Suzy gave me a curious look.

“His family owns the school, but if we’re talking worth, then his parents pretty much own this whole town.”

“So, he takes advantage of that,” I noted, and Suzy nodded her head before indicating to the other three boys.

“They’ve all been friends since they were kids, but everyone knows that Chan and Changbin are super close.”

“Changbin?” I questioned, and Suzy pointed to the introspective and sullen-looking student who was ignoring all of the other girls with narrowed dark eyes.

“His parents died when he was young,” she explained. “He lives with his grandfather.”

“Oh?” I wondered, and I looked at Changbin again with a fresh perspective - as someone who had experienced trauma that would follow him for the rest of his life.

“Felix and Minho are the real fuckboys,” Suzy continued. “They’re notorious for the weekend rule.”

“The weekend rule?”

“Find a college party, hook-up with a nameless girl, and then leave her before she’s too attached.”

“Fuck boys,” I grumbled in agreement, and Suzy sighed as if she had personal experience...but I seriously doubted that someone of her caliber would stoop so low knowing full well what kind of reputation she was dealing with.

“The entire school is at their beck and call,” she said. “They do whatever they want, and nobody ever questions them.”

“Well, I’m here to graduate and find a good college for swimming,” I said, meeting Chan’s gaze from a distance. “I don’t have time for games.”

The ominous faction leader smirked as he held my stare, eyeing me up and down with a flicker of interest that I chose to ignore when Suzy asked if I wanted to finish the rest of our tour.

Day One

On my first day of classes, Suzy was kind enough to stick close to my side, although I was beginning to see that she wasn’t very popular, and we were mostly ignored by the rest of the populace. Which was just fine with me.

“Check it out!” she exclaimed. “Our schedules are almost identical.”

“I’m glad,” I said, ducking my head to avoid a couple of rough-housing football players who were “playfully” knocking each other into the lockers. “I’m pretty sure you could get lost in here.”

“Well, ideally, most students start here in Elementary school, and they stay all the way through High School,” Suzy said.

“A pretentious education at its finest,” I remarked, wondering how much money was literally walking by me with every Luis Vuitton bag and Gucci-made uniform that passed in opposing directions.

“Do you start swimming after school?” Suzy asked, making easy conversation as we entered our first classroom - advanced biology.

“Yeah,” I said, following Suzy to the back of the room. “There’s a tournament this weekend.”

“Already?” Suzy gasped, and she plopped down into one of the desks next to me. “Will you have enough time to practice?”

“I’ll be fine,” I reassured her, reaching for a spare notebook as the teacher walked in to begin one of the most intense lectures that I had ever attended.

But the school’s Academic reputation was no joke, and I imagined that they hired the finest teachers that the school’s infinite endowment could afford - a budget that would eclipse the remainder of the public schools in the district. Yet, no one seemed to blink an eye at how obviously unfair that was, as if these well-off students deserved a high-class education simply because their parents made more money than they could spend.

My new socio-economic environment was becoming more and more apparent, and I was suddenly feeling every part of the outcast who wandered into the wrong part of town with good intentions. But a moralistic attitude would get you nowhere in life if everyone else refused to acknowledge the fact.

I learned quickly that the students at this school were only looking after themselves, but the lesson was hard to accept. Which might explain my uncharacteristic heroism when it came to defending Suzy later on that afternoon when she agreed to give me a ride home after swim practice.

I was outside, sending a message to my mom, when I noticed a black SUV careening backwards at a speed that was far too fast. Meanwhile, Suzy had settled down inside the car to start the ignition, messing with the dials on the radio, when a powerful jolt sent her jerking forward. “What the hell?” Suzy shrieked, turning around in her seat only to startle with that “deer in the headlights” look of absolute horror.

“Shit!!” she cursed, and I watched her get out of the car before taking a deep breath and joining her on the opposite side of her smashed trunk where a huge crowd of students had started to gather around us.

They were talking rapidly amongst themselves, and I figured out why they were so interested the minute Bang Chan and one of his friend - Felix, perhaps? - walked up to Suzy with a bored expression. “You do this often?” were the first words I ever heard from Chan. “I can’t believe you got in my way.”

Suzy immediately bowed her head - submitting to the older Senior. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but I couldn’t stand to watch her expose her most vulnerable position.

“Hey!” I shouted, walking around Suzy’s crumbled form to stand toe-to-toe with the infamous Bang Chan.

“You must be the new girl,” Chan remarked, eyeing me up and down with vague interest. “I kinda expected something more when I saw you the other day...”

I seethed when his gaze fell lower, as if pointing out something that only hormonal teenage boys would care about. “I’m not here to impress you,” I replied, and he arched one brow.

“I don’t need to be impressed,” Chan said. “But your little friend disrespected me, and I think she should apologize.”

“You’re the one who wasn’t looking!” I snapped. “Anyone with eyes could see that you were too busy on your phone to pay attention!”

There was a collective conversation from the crowd, and Chan studied the growing conglomeration of students surrounding our confrontation. “Do you have proof of that? Or, is it your word against mine?”

“Someone with any sense of dignity wouldn’t act this way,” I countered, and Chan immediately started laughing.

“Oh? Isn’t that cute,” he said, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You have a lot to learn around here.”

“The only thing I’ve learned is to stay away from you,” I said, and Chan rolled his eyes like it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

And the torment only continued.

“Hey!” I snapped when he knocked his shoulder against mine, coming to stand in front of Suzy again with disdain.

“Pay for the damages,” he ordered. “And then apologize to me.”

“Chan-” Suzy started, but I grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around.

“I wasn’t finished,” I said, and our noses almost brushed from the minimal distance I allowed between us.

“I don’t want to hear anything else about your idea of honor or whatever,” Chan sneered, but he paused when I held up my phone, pressing the play button on the video which provided convincing evidence of the incident.

“What about this?” I asked him, and I could practically see him come undone.

“Give that to me!” he demanded, but I took several steps away from him, returning my cellphone to my pocket.

“But I’m sure the police would be interested in seeing it.”

Chan’s eyes perceptibly widened, and I felt a surge of triumph in knowing that I had the upper hand. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” I taunted him, briefly glancing over my shoulder at his friend who had started snickering - like he was enjoying our fight.

“Fine,” Chan huffed. “What do you want?”

“You’ll pay for the damages to my friend’s car,” I said. “And...”

“And?” Chan snapped, clearly impatient.

“You can apologize to her instead,” I finished, and there were several consecutive gasps from the student population.

“Is he gonna do it?”

“There’s no way Chan will give in!!”

“Someone film this!”

My smile continued to widen at the jeers of my classmates, and Chan was finally at his wits end, spinning around on his heels to growl an imperceptible attempt at an apology to Suzy who could only look at him in awe. “We’re done here,” Chan said, and I shrugged nonchalantly, watching him storm away with his friend in tow behind him.

I sighed once they were both gone, feeling a sense of profound justice after proving that even the great Bang Chan could be defeated, but then Suzy appeared in front of me with a grave look in her eyes that told me this whole ordeal was far from over. “Y/N,” she whispered. “What have you done?”

Day Three

The next morning, I walked to my locker feeling every gaze turned in my direction. I frowned at each of them, wondering if this was the aftermath from the incident with Chan and his stupid friends. Yet, when I finally paused in front of my locker, an uncomfortable sensation of dread sent me into a cold sweat when I saw what was taped to the front of the door.

It was a red card with a black skull at the top and the infamous “F4″ written across the bottom.

“She got the card!” someone announced from off to the side, and it didn’t take long for other students to rush in my direction.

“The card?” I whispered to myself, remembering Suzy’s previous warnings concerning the exploits of the F4 boys. It wasn’t an accident that I had received this ominous warning, and I knew that I was in trouble.

Quickly, I darted through one of the exits leading outside, placing me somewhere on a small veranda where I leaned against the bannister overlooking the school’s athletic fields. “What the hell is wrong with this place!” I screeched, projecting my voice across the fields, and I didn’t expect anyone to hear me...

“Why the hell are you screaming?”

I paused at the sudden question, widening my eyes when I realized it was closer than I expected. “You come up here often?”

I staggered backward at the interjection, spinning around to locate the voice that had uttered the simple question. “Hello?”

There was a sigh, and then a familiar sweep of brown hair appeared from around the corner. “This is my spot, you know?”

“No,” I said, cringing at my tone. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

The recipient in question was none other than Changbin, one of the four members of the school’s notorious F4. His dark black hair was wind-swept across his forehead, falling in thin strands over attentive brown eyes while he leaned against the wall of the small patio sectioned off from the rest of the veranda. “Lesson learned,” Changbin continued, swaggering up the stairs to stand next to me, looking out over the playing fields. “I guess I can’t come here anymore.”

“What do you mean?” I found myself asking without really thinking about what it might look like to show that I was concerned. After all, he was a member of the same F4 that had just terrorized me with their stupid calling card.

“You’re here,” Changbin replied as if the answer might suffice. “I have a feeling this place will be too loud.”

He sighed then before starting for the exit. “W-wait!” I stuttered, unable to put together a logical sentence before Changbin was already walking back inside.

But Changbin’s unexpected appearance proved to be the least of my problems.

For the remainder of the afternoon, I faced an onslaught of humiliation courtesy of my classmates. Everything from jeers between classes, to more insulting pranks like decorating the desk on my homeroom classroom with vulgar language and pictures.

Yet, worst of all was coming face to face with Bang Chan himself who smiled some kind of sickening smirk at me before quietly asking if I had had enough of the torment. “This is nothing,” I growled at him.

“Oh? Well, it’s only gonna get worse,” Chan promised, and he left without another word, leaving me to stew over a powerful combination of anxiety and frustration.

However, Chan’s idea of worse was, indeed, inexcusable. And I nearly screamed when I went to swim that afternoon, only to discover the pool littered with trash. But there was nobody around to help, and I spent the entirety of my scheduled practice time cleaning up with water, wrinkling my nose at a few questionable banana peels.

“I guess he went through with it,” a familiar voice interrupted my trash session, beaming through the haze of disgust lingering with every brush of my fingers across sodden newspaper or moldy plates.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded of Felix and Minho - the infamous duo who were practically glued to Chan’s side.

“We just wanted to meet you,” Felix said, and I watched through narrowed eyes as they brought over chairs from the side to sit down at the poolside.

I frowned. Couldn’t they help? “Why are you interested?” I asked instead, bringing another load of trash to the edge.

“Well, it’s been awhile since anyone stood up to Chan,” Minho explained, and there was a playfulness in his gaze that left me feeling uneasy in concern to their real intentions.

“Doing what’s right shouldn’t make me a martyr,” I said.

“But it does,” Felix replied with a cheeky smile. “He’s gonna keep up the torture, you know,” he continued, waving his hand around to indicate the trash still floating on top of the chlorine-caked water.

“Forever?” I grimaced, hating that the word had slipped free without really thinking about what it would mean to admit such things to Chan’s friends.

Minho smiled, looking up at something over my shoulder. “I’m surprised to see you here, Changbin?”

I turned around as if it was instinctual, watching the same person from earlier on the veranda walk inside from the locker room. He seemed even more out of place than Minho and Felix, studying the pollution of trash swimming with me. “She’s interesting,” Changbin said, and I was surprised when my stomach did a few somersaults at his confession.

“I agree,” Felix inserted, leaning back against his elbows with his shirt sleeves rucked up high on his forearms. “It’s been a while since Chan has been this invested in something.”

“It would be nice if he could stop,” I grumbled, and I met Changbin’s sincere gaze as he knelt down next to the poolside.

“He’ll give up when he thinks you won’t back down,” Changbin finally decided, and I watched as he started gathering the trash floating in his direction.

Day Seven

In hindsight, my imagination ran wild with scenarios that were more insane with each progressive image that crossed through my head.

But what could you expect from someone who had just figured out that she was being followed by three burly men wearing suits like they were the Men in Black.

Each time I started to walk faster, they would also do the same. Until it got to the point where I was zigzagging around corners, doing my best to dodge out of their sight, only to find myself once again confronted with the strange men who had no intentions of leaving me alone.

Eventually, I paused on the sidewalk outside of the school’s entrance. I was running late that morning, which meant nobody else was around to witness this madness. But I was a strong, independent woman with a a no-nonsense attitude that compelled me to project my voice across the well-polished front lawn. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” I began, holding up my hands when they grew closer. “What seems to be the problem?”

“We have orders to bring you to our boss,” they said, which only confused me even more.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know who you’re talking about?”

“Our apologies, miss,” the first man continued. “We were informed that you might try to resist.”

“Like I’m just gonna skip school and leave with a couple of strangers who have no conception of personal space,’ I glowered, but when I tried to spin around on my heel, I found myself colliding with an enormous chest, and I sighed, realizing that they had clearly been distracting me long enough for the third guard to sneak up behind me. “Fine,” I muttered, rolling my eyes when he grabbed my arm, leading me to the sleek black car running at the front of the school.

From there, my day only continued to grow even weirder, especially when I found myself walking up the steps of a gigantic mansion that looked like it could grace the cover of Vanity Fair magazine.

“Where am I?” I tried to ask, but the guards ignored my question, bringing me inside the house where I felt a twinge of misplaced guilt for treading my dirty sneakers across the pristine marble floors that practically shined with my reflection looking back at me.

“Greetings, miss,” a friendly tone greeted me, and I studied the older gentleman who dismissed the guards with a wave of his wrinkled hand. He was dressed impeccably in a suit with a long coat-tail, balding gray hair styled atop his head in a delicate swoop.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, but the butler was silent as he indicated for me to follow him. Down the crowded corridors, decorated with large, extravagant paintings, and down the granite staircase descending to the floor in a circular pattern.

Down a stretch of never-ending hallway that led to a bedroom at the end where two younger women - identically matched in uniform - greeted me by name before ushering me inside.

“Can you at least tell me where I am?” I asked the butler who followed us inside, giving out instructions as I was forced onto a stool in front of a vanity mirror, wincing when the woman immediately started to yank a brush through my long hair.

“This might take a while,” she said, and I frowned at her tone, coughing when a fresh puff of powder was streaked across my face - compliments of another girl who had a palate of make-up balanced on her hand like it was a paint tray and my skin was her canvas.

“I’d like to know something,” I insisted, but I was met with silence, crossing my arms across my chest as I resigned myself to the unexpected makeover since it was a thousand times better than my earlier scenarios where I envisioned myself dying from a James Bond-esque death.

It was only a half-hour later when the women declared themselves finished, standing back to admire their work while I had a staring contest with the girl looking back at me in the mirror. Because it was hard to believe that it was me with neat ringlets decorating my scalp, and sticky globs of mascara and foundation hiding the blemishes on my face.

I looked amazing, but it wasn’t really me. Still, I wasn’t given much time to study my new appearance, and I hesitated when the butler extended a black dress in my direction. “Our boss wants you to wear this,” he informed me, and I hesitantly accepted the expensive fabric.

“Who’s your boss?” I tried once more, but the butler simply smiled at me before waiting outside for me to get dressed, and I squeezed myself into the exquisite gown that swept the floor at my feet, hugging my curves and accentuating my figure in ways that my sweatpants and t-shirts couldn't.

When I finally walked back out, the butler smiled at me in approval before waving his hand in a grand fashion. “He’s waiting in the living room.”

I swallowed hard, following him once again through the maze of the house while wondering who I might be meeting. A rich donor? A potential Sugar Daddy?

They were all grand ideas that proved to be far better than the truth, and I could only gape in surprise when I was led into the living room, only to meet Chan’s eager gaze from across the expanse of white, designer-brand carpet.

“You!” I hissed in an accusing tone, watching the butler leave from the corner of my eye.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Chan asked, eliminating the distance between us with a few calculating steps. “They were right about the dress. You actually clean-up nice, Y/N.”

I scoffed at the backwards compliment. “Are you serious?” I nearly growled. “You kidnapped me for this?!”

Chan looked at me in disbelief, and I wondered if it was the first time that he had ever been rendered silent. “Do I not get a thank you?”

“A thank you?” I repeated. Incredulous.

“I brought you here,” Chan said, but he was clearly hesitating. “I thought you might like the attention? The clothes aren’t to your taste?”

“Shit, you’re dense,” I muttered. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“It’s obvious,” Chan said. “Talking down to me the other day, pretending like you aren’t affected by the F4 card...you just wanted my attention. And guess what, Y/N? I’m willing to give it to you.”

I blinked once, trying to understand his ridiculous train of bullshit. “What?!”

“You can be my girlfriend,” Chan said, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s a pretty big deal, but I’m sure you know that. I’ll even let you hold my hand between classes, and maybe come to your swim meets or whatever.”

“Chan...” I started, but then I broke off with a sigh because nothing I could think of seemed like an appropriate response. “I don’t think there’s even a remote chance that I would want to be your girlfriend.” I shivered, releasing a groan just saying the title. “Whatever you think is happening…it’s totally warped inside that screwed up head of yours.”

“Y/N-”

“Please,” I interrupted him, holding up one hand. “I’ve had enough, okay? I just want to go home.”

“But...” Chan tried to protested, stuttering around his words when I yanked off the expensive heels, chucking them off to the side. “How could you not want this?” he asked. “The outfit itself cost over $1,000 dollars.”

“$1,000 dollars?” I repeated, widening my eyes when I thought about how many hours my parents would need to put in at our local laundromat business to even make close to the amount he just threw away like it was nothing. “Chan, I might not live in the same world as you, but where I come from? You don’t make friends with money...you make them from the heart.”

“Impossible!” Chan protested, even as I turned my back to him. “Money can buy anything!”

“Is that why I’m leaving?” I returned, reaching down to hold my dress in place while feeling a small sense of satisfaction at having left Chan completely speechless.

Of course, in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have tossed the shoes because the cement was hot against the soles of my feet, and I had attracted more than one curious look as I stormed down the street in search of the main road to take me back home.

“Stupid moron,” I huffed, practically jogging down the road with bare feet and my dress hiked up my legs to prevent me from tripping over the train. It was probably a sight for sore eyes when it came to the rich socialites who populated the neighborhood.

But like the sun’s rays penetrating the clouds on a rainy afternoon, I heard the sound of a motorcycle growing closer from behind me. Until the bike was right next to me, and the driver removed his helmet to expose a familiar bush of brown locks.

“Do you need a ride home?” Changbin asked, and I swallowed hard as I met his steady gaze. It was a simple question, but the fact that he didn’t even question me about why I was here? Nor could I detect any judgement in those impenetrable brown eyes that held all the allure, sending my heart knocking against my breastbone once again.

“Yeah,” I agreed, taking the extra helmet from him. “It’s been a shitty day.”

“I know how that feels,” Changbin said, and I was surprised by his easy conversation, planting myself on the seat behind him.

“Thank you for this,” I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and shivering at the thick smell of his cologne.

“It seems like you might be worth the effort,” Changbin remarked before kicking his bike into gear, and my heart did something strange that might be considered very dangerous when it involved the F4.

But I couldn’t help it, and I had never been more at ease this close to someone else.

Day Ten

Despite my adamant protests, the school insisted that I needed to take a physical education course, which meant that I was forced to pretend to enjoy dodgeball with the rest of my classmates. Hiding out at the back while most of the other girls did all the hard work. But I was only meant for one sport, and dodgeball was as far from swimming as one could get.

It helped that Suzy had gym at the same time, and we talked between games, with Suzy leading most of the conversation.as she offered introductions for most of our other classmates. “Mandy,” Suzy grumbled at one point, indicating to a tall blonde with long legs and a permanent sneer. “She thinks that she somehow has a chance to be with Chan, even though he’s kinda made it obvious that he doesn’t think anyone here is good enough.”

“Really?” I snorted, seeking Chan out from the corner of my eye, playing basketball on the courts with the rest of the F4.

“It’s a running thing here,” Suzy continued. “But most people don’t even try since they don’t want to get on Mandy’s bad side.”

“Whatever,” I replied, averting my gaze when Chan’s eyes met mine. “He’s not even worth it.”

“Most of our classmates would disagree,” Suzy said with a shrug, nudging her shoulder against mine when one of the instructors ordered us to begin the second round.

As usual, I lingered at the the sidelines away from my team, making a half-hearted attempt to play along, especially since I seemed to be a recurring target, using other bodies to protect myself from stray plastic dodgeballs. “What the hell,” I grumbled, wondering if that stupid F4 card was to blame for my classmate’s sudden desire to single me out from everyone else.

I crossed my arms at the thought, finding myself once again looking back over at Chan...Did he think it was funny to make me a target of ridicule? Well, at least Changbin was being surprisingly nice, and just the mere mention of the older boy was enough to do crazy things to my poor heart.

But lost in my daydreams, I failed to notice that Mandy and one of her friends had stalked to the edge of the court, rearing back to throw their dodgeballs at me while I was distracted. “Y/N!” I heard Suzy’s voice scream from across the field, and I looked away from Chan only to find myself frozen in place while a dodgeball flew in my direction.

The sickening CRACK! of the stupid thing hitting my nose was audible, and I immediately tasted blood on my upper lip. “Go clean yourself up, Miss Y/L/N,” one of the instructors said, but I was furious that she was treating the situation so nonchalantly.

It was all Chan’s fault. Even if he hadn't thrown the ball, he empowered his classmates to belittle me at every opportunity, and I was tired of being the school’s metaphorical punching bag. And I hated the tears threatening to fall, refusing to show any signs of weakness as I stormed past Suzy for the girl’s bathroom.

“Fuck,” I cursed as I leaned over the sink, splashing some cold water on my face as I looked at my bloody and mangled reflection in the mirror.

This was the worst incident so far, and I hated that the situation had escalated to something physical, gripping the edge of the sink tightly as I closed my eyes to regain control over my breathing.

“Here,” a voice whispered from behind me, and I turned around with a glare already contorting my expression when I was forced to face Bang Chan once again.

“It’s your fault,” I replied, snatching the paper towel from him as I dabbed at my nose. “What the hell are you doing in the girl’s bathroom?”

“I’m sorry,” Chan said, but I refused to believe it was sincere, turning back around to check the damage of my nose in the mirror. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“You can’t be sorry after the fact,” I snapped. “You had every chance to make things right and leave me the hell alone.”

“Well, I can’t do that now...” Chan trailed off, and it was surprising to see him suddenly look so unsure of himself. “I'm just trying to help...”

“And who asked you to do that?” I returned, looking at him from the corner of my eye. “Even if you were the last person on Earth, I would never ask for your help!”

My exclamation was punctuated by a rather harsh sound after I shoved the paper towels into the trashcan, preparing to leave the bathroom before Chan grabbed my arm to turn me back around. “What do you dislike so much?” Chan whined. “I don’t understand...I’m rich, handsome, smart...”

“All of it!” I interrupted with a harsh tone, and Chan immediately stumbled back against the sink. “You must not realize, but do you think those things matter to me? Because I can’t even consider them when your entire personality is unattractive! Your arrogant attitude, your stupid face, and that ridiculous curly hair!!”

“Are you insane?” Chan asked, and his bewildered expression would be funny under any other circumstances.

“I’m not done yet,” I sharply interjected. “It annoys me that you guys are allowed to do whatever you want at this school, and the whole red card deal? Where you give everyone a free pass to bully other students? Like it’s nothing? That’s the absolute worst thing about you!!”

“Y/N...”

“Do I need to repeat it?” I interrupted once more. “I hate everything about you!”

The harsh exclamation was met by silence as Chan continued to stare at me, and I decided to leave him alone in silence to think about everything I had said, rejoining my classmates with a sense of relief at having stood up to someone who considered himself as better than everyone else.

Day Fourteen

“You should come with me,” Suzy remarked one afternoon, sitting next to the poolside with me as I swam my regular laps.

“I’d rather not,” I said, pausing at the edge of the pool to consider her request - a night under the stars, as the school’s dance team had proclaimed it, and it was one of the biggest school events of the year.

“Why?” Suzy whined. “The F4 revoked your red card, and you can meet some more people...maybe even score some connections.”

“Right,” I scoffed, thinking the idea absurd, but I guess it wouldn’t seem so outrageous to the ones who had been dealing with these politics for their entire lives. “I’m not really that outgoing.”

“It’s okay,” Suzy reassured me, and I could tell that she really wanted me to come with her, which is probably why I felt compelled to agree. But her smile and cheering was worth it, especially considering just how good of a friend Suzy had proven to be during the past two weeks.

And that’s how I found myself walking up to the school’s gymnasium that weekend, wearing an uncomfortable black dress that Suzy had agreed to lend me for the occasion. “You look hot, Y/N,” Suzy said, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that my reflection reminded me too much of the time when Chan had brought me to his house to play dress-up.

“I can hear the music all the way out here,” I said, following Suzy up the gym steps.

“Yeah, this event isn’t regulated by the teachers, so it’s basically a free-for-all,” Suzy explained, and I desperately wished that I could find the appeal in that statement, especially once we entered the building, washing us in neon colors of purple and pink. “Let’s dance!” Suzy immediately cried, pulling me to the dance floor despite my protests.

Thankfully, I only had to awkwardly navigate the party scene for one song before Suzy became preoccupied with a very cute Senior boy from our homeroom. I was able to sneak away to the punch bowl, ladling some of the red liquid into my cup before bringing it to my lips. “Hmm,” I wondered, eyeing the drink because it tasted so familiar...”Oh well,” I said, shrugging as I proceeded to drain several more cups before sinking down against the wall, never noticing that a pair of eyes had been watching my every movement until a pair of Versace-toed boots stopped in front of me.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Chan remarked, and I was shocked that he had the guts to talk to me after honoring my request to be ignored for the past several days.

“What do you want?” I grumbled, reluctantly taking his outstretched hand to help me stand again because my vision was unusually blurry and my stomach was churning.

“The punch was spiked,” Chan said, chucking at my disheveled state.

“Spiked?” I repeated, finding myself totally incoherent as I leaned most of my weight against him. “When did that happen?”

“The Seniors do it as a prank,” Chan said, and his gaze seemed to soften as he held me close. “Do you want to sit down?”

“That would be nice,” I slurred, allowing him to guide me over to the bleachers where I dropped down with a thud!

“Damn, you’re pretty wasted,” Chan said, looking me over with an uncharacteristic amount of concern.

“I didn’t know...” I trailed off, pointing back at the punch bowl. “It tasted so good.”

“I bet it did,” Chan said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he cleared his throat. “I saw that you came with your friend, but maybe you might want some company?”

“Sure!” I said, patting the space next to me. “You’ve caught me in a good mood.”

Chan grinned - a genuine smile that I could hardly recognize - as he sat down with a sigh. “This doesn’t really seem like your type of scene.”

“Not really,” I agreed, narrowing my eyes when the room started swaying. “But you’re not my usual type of person.”

“Right,” Chan agreed, chuckling awkwardly as he messed up his hair - straightened instead of curly. “Maybe we could go somewhere else?”

I frowned because, even though I might’ve been a little more than tipsy, I still remembered that I didn’t like Chan, and there was no reason for me to go anywhere with him. “Are you intentionally ignoring everything I said from the other day?”

“No,” Chan murmured. “But I was hoping that I could give you space...and maybe a chance to prove myself?”

“Really?” I snorted. “How much have you changed since the last time we talked?”

“Probably not much,” Chan acknowledged, much to my surprise. “But after everything you said, maybe I’d like to? And I feel like you’re the only person who can be honest enough to help me.”

“Oh,” I replied, slightly disconcerted by Chan’s abrupt change in attitude. “Still, after everything you did...”

“I know I don’t deserve it,” Chan quickly agreed. “But I think you’re one of the rare kinds of people who believes in second chances.”

I exhaled loudly at his words, and in part to keep myself from throwing up after all the alcohol I ingested. “Where would we go?”

“What about a date at the diner downtown?” Chan asked, swallowing hard. “With me?”

“Let’s not call it a date,” I grimaced, and Chan agreed, even though it seemed to be a reluctant remission on his part. “But, yeah, that actually might be nice.”

“Perfect!” Chan said, and he was already on his feet with an energy that was impossible to ignore. “I’ll have Changbin tell your friend. Wait right here, and I’ll come back.”

“Okay,” I muttered, clutching my stomach as I watched Chan run off into the crowd. “Jeez, Y/N,” I groaned. “What are you doing with this guy?”

It might be one of the worst decisions of my life, but something he said struck a nerve deep inside of me. He might be unbearable, but he was right about one thing: people could always change, and I was the type of person who allowed second chances...just as long as someone was willing to earn it and prove themselves.

“Are we taking your car?” I asked, staggering against Chan’s hold as he brought us outside the gym.

“Yeah,” he said. “We can take my car, and you can sober up on the way.”

“Good idea,” I agreed, regretting the decision to drink so much of that stupid punch with every swaying step towards Chan’s expensive sports car.

He had the decency to open the door for me, and I fell inside with a grunt, waiting for him to turn over the ignition before he started fussing over me. “Do you need anything? Something to drink? Are you hot or cold? Should I turn on the music?”

“Don’t ask questions,” I gritted out - a response to everything while I leaned my head against the window.

“Got it,” Chan said, and he dutifully followed through on his promise, never speaking again until we pulled into the parking lot of the diner he had advertised earlier. “Do you feel any better?”

I nodded, an honest response. Because the drive had taken close to twenty minutes, and I had found a water bottle in the floor, downing the contents to settle my stomach and the wave of nausea that only alcohol could bring. “We can go inside,” I said, rolling my eyes when he made a show of coming around to help me out of the car, grabbing my arm despite my protests. “What is this place?” I asked when we walked inside, choosing an empty table near the back.

“My friends come here a lot,” Chan replied. “It’s quiet.”

“Quiet?” I laughed. “There’s no way it’s quiet if the whole school comes here.”

“They don’t,” Chan said, surprising me yet again. “Nobody knows we come here.”

He gave me a meaningful look, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was risking a lot by entrusting me with their secret. “Got it,” I said, miming myself closing a zipper across my lips (perhaps that was the drunkenness affecting my judgement).

But Chan still laughed, and then he went to the counter to order, leaving me to contemplate what the actual hell I was doing with the school’s literal celebrity who treated most people like shit, including me for a short while at the very beginning.

At this point, I really couldn’t blame the alcohol. So, what was wrong with me? Why was I doing this?

“Here,” Chan said, dropping a mug of something sweet down in front of me, effectively interrupting my internal conflict.

“Hot chocolate?” I asked, and I was definitely caught off-guard as Chan shrugged and sat down in front of me.

“I thought you might prefer this,” he admitted.

“Oh...” I started, searching for a good response. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Chan said, and he smiled as he watched me taste the foam resting on top. “Is it good?”

“It’s nice,” I admitted, and Chan had the appearance of someone who had just landed an acceptance to their dream college.

“You’re different from the others,” Chan said, switching the topic. “I like that about you, and it makes me regret everything I’ve done even more.”

“Yeah,” I huffed. “That red card shit needs to stop.”

“I agree,” Chan said, bringing his mug even closer. “My friends have wanted to stop for a while...”

“They’re way smarter than you,” I said, tilting my head to the side as if it might give me a different vantage point of the confusing boy sitting in front of me. “Did you really want to come here with me?”

Chan nodded, eyes gleaming. “You’re interesting,” he decided, mirroring the exact same thing that Changbin had said to me a while back. “I think I like you a lot, which is why what you said to me at my house and in the bathroom really made me reconsider a lot of things.”

“Oh?” I questioned him, amused by his reasoning, and possibly even endeared by his regretful expression. “I might learn to like you...” I trailed off, laughing at his puppy-dog eyes as he looked at me with obvious desperation. “If you learn to behave.”

“Is that so?” Chan remarked, and his smile was perfectly sincere. “Well, I think you’re the best person to teach me.”

And despite our complicated history together - unwinding after such a brief amount of time in one another’s company - I was more than willing to try for the very strange boy who was starting to show me the intricate layers underneath all the wealth and arrogance - a mere façade for something better, the potential for good if a brave enough person was careful enough to find it.

End of Part One

#bang chan fanfic #stayverse #skzwriternet #stayracha #chan fanfic #stray kids chan #stray kids chan fanfic #bang chan imagines #stray kids imagines #bang chan scenarios #stray kids scenarios #bang chan oneshot #stray kids oneshot #boys over flowers au #skz au #skz x y/n #chan x y/n #mostlycompetent #requested

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ambiguousdisorderken · 3 years

Text

help! a thought a thought!

s13: cas comes back from the empty without his grace and jack is very much a baby.

cas promised kelly he'd look after him, but despite all those parenting books qnd online forums, looking after a nephil is no easy task, curiously more so when it comes to jack's human wants and needs. he sees the winchesters’ intent tohelp, but jack is his charge, and cas is going to protect and look after this kid with his own limited resources even if it kills him. in return, he gets apologetic and compassionate looks from both the brothers, but dean's gaze is also... stern? no, serious. it's as if he's holding back.

cas feels judged.

at the end of one such days in which jack is being extremely... difficult, cas all but collapses. funny how an angel of the lord who once led heavenly armies and would annihilate on command like a good soldier has been brought to the brink of tears by an adorable chubby-cheeked infant with a penchant for making cas feel guilty for arguably being the worst parental figure in the whole of history. well, surely not as bad as abraham or ivan vasilyevich. cas would never harm a single blond hair on jack’s precious little head, but he’s not a good.

he's so immersed in his own frustration that he doesn't notice the door opening or the familiar weight of steps across the bedroom. he does notice the sudden shadow, and he definitely notices when jack's being taken from him by a pair of hands he rebuilt himself with the utmost care, never suspecting how he'd yearn for their touch years down the line.

dean is good with kids. he had to be. right now though, with jack? he doesn't have to be good, but he is, he's excellent. obviously better than castiel, since in less than a couple minutes jack’s long-winded on-and-off tantrum morphed into silence and then giggles. jack's actually delighted, toothless smile and happy squeals and little fists thrown in the air.

'how did you...?' cas asks stunned, wiping from his eyes the treacherous evidence of his failed parenting.

dean raises an eyebrow, but turns his face when jack's tiny hand pets his jaw. dean makes faces then, his beautiful features contorting into expressions cas had never seen. jack, laughs and curls up against dean's chest, face hiding in the junction between his neck and chin.

jack closes his red-rimmed eyes and sighs contentedly.

'dude. babies are all about vibes, man. they can sense shit, and you being all stressed out was not helping.'

cas looks down at his hands and feels every ounce of his inadequacy being maximized to stand as tall as the chrysler building.

'i... thought it'd be easier, dean. i try, i do. but jack... of course it's not his fault, that’s not what i’m saying. it's mine. he doesn't seem happy with me, and he obviously does not like me.'

dean stops rocking jack and sits on the bed next to cas, his face schooled into that expression cas has seen but can't tell the meaning of.

this time dean doesn't hold back though.

'one, that's a load of bullcrap. kid loves you. you're his dad, remember?' it's weird being admonished by dean on this particular subject, but if anyone would know about raising kids, that'd dean. he continues, 'which brings me to point number two. cas, babies are not easy. no parent has it all figured out, no matter how many books you read or how old you are. it's totally normal to hit a few bumps in the road, trust me.'

cas sighs, relieved by dean's soothing words of wisdom.

but cas' self-doubt must be a thousand-headed beast, experience has taught him many things, and right now that means he knows, from experience, that he's most likely to mess things up with jack as soon as dean hands him back.

he misses his powers. if he were still an angel he'd be able to bond with jack through their grace, and they’d have a more meaningful connection. or not.

dean, wonderful as he is, is only a human, and in less than five minutes he got jack wrapped around his finger. maybe even all “juiced-up” cas would be just as lacking.

'i wish i had your nurturing skills' cas confesses.

dean clears his throat.

'you have them' he says.

cas looks up and meets dean's determined yet nervous eyes. confused, cas clarifies, 'no, i meant i wish i could-'

dean cuts in, 'i know what you meant, cas. but i meant you have, uh, my... "nurturing skills" or whatever. because you have me. okay, cas? you have me.'

'oh?'

cas hopes, he does. but he isn't good at articulating his feelings when it comes to dean. perhaps cas learned it from him. after all, once he used to be able to declare his thoughts without flinching or feeling apprehensions of any kind.

but, when it comes to dean, he's afraid of saying the wrong thing, of saying too much.

dean continues, making what he can with cas' poor response, 'if you want, of course. and i mean... you're doing great with the little rugrat, cas, but normal babies are a handful and jack's half freaking angel. i know it's tough, and i don't like seeing you all...' he waves in cas' direction. baby-stained rumpled clothes and face worn, dark circles under the eyes are apparently not a very good look on him. he shouldn't be offended, but it still stings a bit, knowing he's doing a bad enough that his whole body is living proof of it.

'dean, you don't have to,' he replies.

'but i want to,' dean says without skipping a beat.

jack sighs happily.

'let me take care of him. with you.' his green eyes search into cas', his pitch slightly higher and his tone pleading, 'just let me help you, cas. please. we' re a - a good team, you and i. we've gone through shit must people can't even begin to imagine, so i think we can do this' his shoulder bumps gently against cas' arm. 'watcha' say, pal. wanna raise a baby together?'

cas stares back in shock, failing to taper down his burgeoning hope. but dean cannot mean what cas wants him to mean. it's not like that with them. they're friends. best friends. but do best friends raise kids together? he shouldn't poke at this.. thing, but the need to know is overpowers his better judgment, so his next words could very well be the last ones he uttered before getting his heart irreparably torn to shreds.

'i thought only couples raised children together, dean.'

dean huffs and rolls his eyes, 'that nuclear family crap is a big fat lie, cas. white picket-fence propaganda. there are many types of families in the world. not everyone gets to have a mom who lives long enough to raise her children or a dad who gives a fuck if his kids ate, consumed by a piss-poor avenger complex.'

of course. he should've known. absorbed by his own selfish wants, dean's complicated upbringing slipped from cas' mind, and now he's made the conversation awkward if dean's hesitancy is any indication to go by.

cas stays silent.

'but,' dean starts, his cheeks are colored red and he blinks twice then once again, keeping watery eyes at bay. 'we could do that too, cas. if that's.. if you'd, um, like that. you and me and this little one.'

dreaming. cas must be dreaming.

'like a family?' he asks suspiciously.

'like a family' dean says guarded.

but.

and because he needs to be sure, and dean probably didn't realize the very non-platonic implication of his statement, he asks 'like a... couple?'

'yes' the word is breathed out with pleasure and dean smiles at him warmly and openly, and he looks so beautiful like this, sitting on cas' bed with a sleepy jack safely tucked against his body.

'okay' cas says, because he doesn't know the etiquette for this specific scenario, and besides, they have to keep their voices low and their movements subtle if they want to keep jack from stirring awake.

'alright' dean says. then dean turns to whisper something in jack's ear, but the words are easily carried across what little space rests between them.

'heard that, baby? i’m gonna take good care of you and your daddy from now on.'

so, they take care of jack together. cas' parenting skills improve rather quickly, dean's natural instincts are lifesavers, and every day the three of them become happier and better rested. endless nights of cuddling will do that to you. in short, dean and cas raise their baby like a couple, and, with jack, they are, in every sense of the word, a family.

#I AM SOFT #i'll have lunch now because i got carried away with this oops.#was supposed to work on a gifset e.e #creating different types of content is a Thing.#destiel fanfic #or #destiel drabble #idek #deancas #my fanfic #I JUST WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY WITH THEIR BABY #but now they are :')#baby!jack #fuck capitalization bitches got no time for that :(#pardon ME im thee cheesiest i know 😩

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moony-meadow · 3 years

Text

The Very Hungry Beelzebub (3)

Previous Part / Next Part

“Uhhh…” Beelzebub was frozen. He was clearly unsure whether to reveal everything to Mammon in hopes of getting his help, or concocting some kind of lie to protect both his and my dignity. And I had a feeling that, unlike Mammon, Beel didn’t want to make the decision without getting my approval first.

“It’s okay, Beel, you can tell him,” I sighed. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to finding out what Mammon’s reaction would be. I honestly wasn’t entirely sure what to expect.

Though I couldn’t see it, I could easily imagine the confused expression currently painted on Mammon’s face as he wondered why he’d just heard my disembodied voice. No doubt he was looking around the room, searching for the source of the sound. “Huh? What was that?” he questioned, sounding thoroughly befuddled.

Poor Beel was going to be forced to explain the bizarre situation. Of course, I could try to do it, but it seemed like something that would be more easily done by someone not hidden away inside a stomach.

I could feel Beel take a nervous breath. He was obviously not looking forward to this. Despite being younger (and less powerful) than Mammon, he had never really acted like it. Beel would never take orders from the second oldest, and he showed no qualms about stepping on his toes. But now, he was anxious about admitting the truth to Mammon. What exactly he was afraid of, I didn’t know. Did he think his brother would be angry, or disappointed?

“After I started to recover from being sick, I got hungry...really hungry,” Beel began. “I-I wasn’t in control of myself. I ate everything in the kitchen.” I placed a hand on one of the fleshy walls, hoping it would come across as reassuring. “And then...and then Y/N came in.” He winced as he said it, and honestly, I did too.

“What exactly are ya sayin’?” Mammon’s voice had taken on an edge, a dangerous edge I hadn’t ever heard before.

Beel swallowed hard. “Mammon, I...I shrank Y/N and ate them.” He spit out the last part of the sentence, as if he was worried if he didn’t say it fast enough, he would never say it.

“You what?!” Mammon roared. I heard a commotion, and then suddenly everything around me lurched. I threw my arms out to brace myself against the walls. I definitely had not missed being thrown around like a ragdoll inside someone’s stomach, completely subject to their massive movements. “No, that can’t be right. Y/N has a pact with you. They woulda ordered you to stop.”

I could visualize the kicked puppy look on Beel’s face perfectly as he admitted to what he’d done in his hunger-fueled delirium. “They couldn’t. I put a silencing spell on them.”

More rough movements rocked my world, and then I heard, as well as felt, an echoing slam. I had a suspicion Mammon had just shoved Beel against a wall, which was difficult for me to imagine. I didn’t think I had ever seen him get violent with his brothers, or anyone for that matter.

“Mammon! Relax, I’m fine!” I shouted. The last thing I wanted was for things to get more physical, for my own sake as well as for Beel and Mammon’s. Seeing the brothers bicker and get at each other’s throats was commonplace, but I never enjoyed witnessing them coming to blows.

“Y/N?” Mammon exclaimed, his tone of voice instantly shifting. “Y/N, if you didn’t order Beel not to hurt you then you’re in danger! You’ll get digested--”

“Don’t worry, as soon as I got my voice back I made sure that wouldn’t happen,” I promised. The unfiltered concern in Mammon’s voice was more than a little endearing. The guy was quick to play the aloof, uncaring demon, though of course I knew that was all an act. It was refreshing to hear him being genuine and not attempting to hide his true feelings.

I could feel Beelzebub’s heartbeat begin to come down from its heightened rate as the tension in the room began to lessen. Once again he placed a gentle hand against his stomach, and I reciprocated with my much smaller hand on the other side.

“The only problem is I can’t bring them back up the same way you did,” Beel told Mammon regretfully.

“I guess that means you found ‘em tasty, huh?” Mammon said in a grumpy tone. Evidently he was aware of the little stipulation that prevented the Avatar of Gluttony from throwing up. I wasn’t shocked to hear Mammon was none too pleased about “his human” getting eaten by another demon. The Avatar of Greed was nothing if not possessive.

“Even the worst humans have a good flavor,” Beel remarked. “Of course Y/N would be leagues ahead of them.” My heart fluttered at the compliment, though it was a bit spoiled by the context of said compliment. I was glad Beel considered me to be “leagues ahead” of the worst humans, though I didn’t really like the fact that that seemed to go hand in hand with my level of tastiness.

“None of that matters,” I called out, eager to direct the conversation away from how enjoyable I apparently was to eat. “What matters is getting me the hell out of here.”

“Damn right,” Mammon was quick to reply. I had a feeling his determination was in large part attributed to his possessiveness.

Before Mammon had eaten me, when he was trying to convince me to agree to the whole endeavor in the first place, he had mentioned a backup place in case he was unable to cough me up naturally. His exact words had been, “if I can’t get ya out naturally, I could always just swallow the end of a string and pull ya out that way.” While the idea did sound pretty ridiculous and silly, I didn’t see any reason why it couldn’t work.

“Mammon, do you really think Beel swallowing the end of a string would work?” I questioned. I would be more than a little pissed if he had only offered that as a suggestion to trick me into letting myself get swallowed.

“Oh yeah, good idea!” Mammon exclaimed. “Lemme go find somethin’ that’ll work.”

“Wait, hold on a second--” Beel started to protest but was quickly interrupted.

“Beel, you should go to Y/N’s room so we don’t gotta worry about anyone walkin’ in on us.” After that came the sound of hurried footsteps exiting the room.

Beel remained still for a moment before releasing a soft sigh. “I’m going to make my way to your room,” he announced. “I doubt we’ll run into anyone at this hour, but just try not to move too much just in case.” He gave one last soft pat to his stomach before heading off.

While Beel definitely seemed to be making an effort to move slowly and carefully, the ride inside his stomach was still fairly unsteady. While it may have been my second time being eaten, that didn’t mean I was anywhere near used to the experience of riding around in a giant stomach.

Thankfully the trip to my bedroom didn’t last long and was completely uneventful. Once I heard the sound of the door clicking shut behind us, I let out a relieved sigh. “Is it okay if I sit down?” Beel asked tentatively.

A little smile formed on my face. Beel was so considerate and sweet. It was definitely a different experience being in his stomach than in Mammon’s. Aside from Beel’s far more mindful behavior, his stomach was also significantly bigger than Mammon’s had been. Of course that wasn’t surprising. He was the Avatar of Gluttony after all.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” I replied with a light chuckle.

My environment creased slightly, signalling that Beelzebub had gone ahead and taken a seat. I myself took a seat at the bottom of the stomach, reclining slightly. Feeling much more confident that I would make it out of this situation alive, I allowed myself to relax a little bit. To be honest, being inside someone’s stomach was kind of comfy in its own weird way. I had gotten one of the best night’s sleep I’d had in awhile when I’d spent the night with Mammon. Of course, I would never admit that. Mammon’s head was already big enough as it was.

“Hey, Y/N?” I could feel Beel tracing patterns on the outside of his stomach as he spoke. “You know that I don’t, you know, just see you as food, right?” There was nervousness in his voice, as well as a large dose of guilt. He clearly hadn’t forgiven himself for what he’d done despite me having already given my forgiveness.

I paused for a moment. All seven of the demon brothers viewing me as tasty in some capacity was something I had accepted a while ago. I had forged friendships with them knowing that fact. At the start, the only thing keeping any of them from eating me had been my status as an exchange student. However, I believed things had changed. I couldn’t imagine any of the brothers intentionally trying to bring harm to me anymore. Even Belphegor had gone from wanting to kill me to being a close friend.

So maybe they all still secretly imagined eating me. It didn’t matter. Because I was convinced that none of them would put that desire before my wellbeing--so long as they were in their right mind of course. “Don’t worry, I know,” I reassured the demon.

“You’re sure?” Beel asked uncertainly. “Because I know I always talk about how delicious you look, and I ask if I can eat you sometimes--”

“Hey, I get it...well I sort of do anyway,” I said. “Humans are usually on the demon menu. I suppose it’s normal for you to want to eat us.” I added with a shrug.

I tried to imagine the situation from the demon perspective. To put it into human terms, I had to guess it would be like having a delectable ice cream sundae walking around and talking. I definitely wouldn’t feel comfortable eating a sentient ice cream...but that was beside the point.

“That doesn’t make what I did okay,” Beel stated firmly.

I sighed. “Well no, but like I said, that wasn’t really you.” I didn’t care that he wanted to eat me when he was in his right mind. All that mattered to me was that he didn’t actually do it.

It seemed likely that Beel would try to argue with me, but he didn’t get the chance before I heard the bedroom door opening. “Alright, let’s get Y/N outta there!” Mammon announced.

#shall we vore #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t vore #soft vore

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panelshowsource · 3 years

Text

let me get to some of your most urgent asks post-nmtb spam and pre-taskmaster spam! 🕺

—

bestie i’m afraid to tell you this...

YES! i have such high hopes the cast will vibe ~splendidly~ and the fact i’m going to have alternating david and victoria content every single week fills me with a glee i cannot even express :’) i’m just already heartbroken it’s only going to be 6 episodes!

thinking about the fact there’s now... taskmaster... buzzcocks... outsiders... qi... question team... bakeoff... umm panel show people, do we have enough hours in the day?

i can’t expose my secrets anon but.......a sneak peek for you *muah*

while i don’t think it was for taskmaster, i won’t rule it out only because it’s sooo drastic of a change compared to, say, wearing a pair of glasses, and it’s a wig opposed to dyed hair for a real chaneg-up. too bad because i can tell from one blurry ass pic she looks STUNNING! i think it’s funny so many people believe it’s for tm, like “yes that is absolutely something victoria would do” because we just know despite finding a lot to mock about the tasks and the format of the show in general she is absolutely going to be competitive muahaha~

I NEVER WATCHED IT AND I’M FOAMING AT THE MOUTH IN ANGER AT MYSELF...DOWNLOADING IT RIGHT NOW LEMME GET BACK TO YOU

if anyone else who watched it wants to send in their thoughts/opinions, please do! let’s talk about it! but maybe not start a small war like we did talking about taskmaster s10! lmaooo

between you and me, s2 is also my favourite hehe i cry at how short it is but at the same time that’s part of what makes it so impeccable? the chemistry of the cast, every single one of them striking the right balance between genuinely trying and taking the piss, the simplicity of the tasks, the fact so much about the format of the show was still being worked out by both the producers and the contestants, joe being the epitome of unhinged and unnecessarily competitive, katherine’s fits... i feel like if you don’t like joe wilkinson, it’s not one of the best, but if you do like joe wilkinson, it’s potentially THE best. taskmaster stupidity at its tim key-like best :’)

look at this poor sod

DO THEY? A CRIME. in my humble opinion, which i shall express because i am the country lord who presides over this blog, s1–5 were the epitome of the series simply because it was before the format of the show had been totally worked out and become a little overcomplicated, and the combination of 1) figuring out the format alongside the producers and contestants and 2) the chemistry between each series’ contestants was a god-tier panel show experience. personally, i’d say s1–2 are where there is the most humble, chaotic charm — and this is probably because the show was so new and the contestants were so...confused LMAO — and s4–5 are where the show peaked. so i’d say we’re likely on the same page in that regard, and anyone who is overlooking s5 and out bob is a...CLOWN. yes a clown

wanted? you didn’t do it???????? anon???

katherine is begging for emerald — obviously — but i told her a gem tone in winter is simply too obvious and am pushing for july in christmas theme. something blush, maybe even a pastel? i am already on thin ice with her over the matter... should probably leave it for a couple of days. that said, the invites will be out for the end of the month!

unrelated and also an absolute lie since katherine and i are genuinely engaged to be married but am i the only one who thinks she and her husband are so hot together

legally you have to send me vcm thirst every time it enters your head over the next ten weeks. deal?

—

btw i am working on links that need updating, so please give me through the weekend to take care of everything :’) that said, nmtb is up on drive and taskmaster will also be up asap. thanks for your patience!

f.a.q. / tags / ask

#a #olympusrox123

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yoonjinkooked · 4 years

Text

Kitchen Confidential | Jin (2)

banner: @casuallyimagining

PART 2

PART 1

Pairing: Seokjin / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Enemies to lovers, chef AU

Warnings: slow burn with explicit sex later, cursing

Word Count: 5k+ (Part 1 - 5k+) Summary: After years of annoying the life out of you, your rival, Kim Seokjin, pushes you a step too far and he knows it. As angry and resentful as you are, you don’t realize that something has been brewing under the surface for years. This weekend, that will change.

Last night was not nearly as bad as you had thought it would be. The drive to the lake was long, but you were carpooling with Jungkook, so it wasn’t dull for a single moment. Getting there in the late afternoon, all you’ve had time for was dinner and drinks. A dinner which you did not make, for a change. With every single staff member of both respective restaurants, it was very easy to avoid Seokjin – not like he was looking for you either. Drinking wine and reminiscing your school days with Jungkook, Taehyung and Yoongi took the bigger part of your night and made time fly. For a few hours, you thought this weekend teambuilding getaway might not be so bad after all.

That changed this morning at ass crack of dawn, when Namjoon knocked on your door to wake you up and give you a schedule for today. As you read through all the activities listed, your eyes still sleep crusted, you have realized that today was going to be torturous.

“You have got to be shitting me.”

You have tried, you truly did. Kept an open mind and all of that, ready to put your best foot forward and do what is best for your team. But 10 minutes into the group meditation, you’ve had enough.

“Shush,” Mina hisses at you from your left side, her eyes closed. “You’re making me lose focus.”

“Don’t you think you’re losing focus because there are 15 other people in the room pretending not to hear each other breathe? This is ridiculous,” you sigh, but still keep your voice fairly low when talking because you don’t want to make anyone else lose focus. Meditation requires peace and doing it with a bunch of people kind of kills the point.

“Come on Y/N,” Jimin chuckles from your right. “Don’t you want to become one with your team?”

“You will become one with my fist if you don’t shut it,” you whisper back.

“I will sauté both of your asses if you don’t zip it,” Jeongguk warns from in front of you, obviously annoyed by your bickering. “The sooner you shut up, the sooner this shit will be over and we can go outside and grab a damn beer.”

“Please remain quiet!”

You lower your head in shame – as ridiculous as it is, you did not want to piss of the instructor or whatever the hell she is. Judging by the glare directed towards you, you did just that. So, you close your eyes and shut up and let your mind wander over nothing and everything all at once.

With fall around the corner, you’re going to have to update your menu. Seasonal menus are a joy to work on, giving you an option to rebrand everything every couple of months. With all the fresh fall produce you’re going to have at your disposal, the next few weeks are going to be a lot of fun.

Your tricked worked – you were still on the appetizers by the time meditation was over.

“Remind me to never listen to him again,” Yoongi cracks open a beer as he sits down on the grass between you and Jeongguk, with Jimin and Hoseok following him. He has been complaining about Namjoon ever since you guys left the hall where the group meditation took place. “I’m all for teamwork and shit but how the hell is group meditation going to help with that?”

“You know how these things work,” Hoseok shrugs. “Someone makes a plan, sells it as an experience that will unify your team and most people don’t ask questions. Meditation is good, but it has zero to do with teamwork.”

“Paintball makes more sense,” Yoongi mumbles, pausing to sip his beer. “Sure, it’s an unusual choice but if we work in teams, which we obviously will, at least we get to exercise teamwork.”

“Or violence,” Jeongguk chuckles. “If I were Seokjin, I wouldn’t want to be around Y/N with a gun.”

“Easy there, you moron,” you hit him over the shoulder. “Just because I am angry doesn’t mean I’ll turn to violence.”

“What, you’re going to spare him?” Jimin laughs and your eyes narrow at him, remembering that he is on the opposite team. Sure, you don’t know how you’re going to be divided in the actual game but he is one of Seokjin’s best friends. The same way Jeongguk would come running to you with information, you can imagine Jimin doing the same for Seokjin.

“Oh, if he’s on the opposite team, he’s going down,” you sound sure of yourself, which may or may not be a result of having a best friend who is an adrenaline junkie. Despite it not being your thing as much as it his, you’ve accompanied Jeongguk on many paintball, bungee jumping and zip line adventures.

“Here’s to Seokjin’s balls and whatever will be left of them later,” Yoongi raises his can of beer.

“Here, here!”

It is a disaster, a complete and total disaster and the only reason why it’s like this is because Namjoon refused to listen. Taehyung and Jeongguk, who were chosen as team leaders, both tried to explain to him that it would be best if we go restaurant against restaurant but the man did not listen.

And that ended in pure and utter betrayal left and right.

Hoseok, who was on Taehyung’s team, straight up shot Catnip’s waiter, who was on the same team as he was. Jimin, who was supposedly on your side, ended up chasing you for god knows how long before Jeongguk shot him, sacrificing his own team member for your sake. Poor Mina didn’t even bother trying as she stood behind Namjoon, who was standing in the middle of an empty field and yelling at you all to at least try to be loyal to your temporary teams. Someone shot him in the shoulder, and although you have no proof of this, you have a feeling that it was Yoongi.

And you? You were out for blood, specifically Kim Seokjin’s blood. Once Jeongguk got Jimin of your back and the two of them started yelling at each other, you were free to run and chase after that all, wide-shouldered son of a bitch.

You could see him from a mile away – it was tunnel vision, with you blatantly ignoring both your team members and your opponents as you run through the woods, hoping to catch up with him. None of it made sense anymore anyways, with no one even being sure which team they are actually on, despite the blue and red vests that were supposed to differentiate you.

You were not even close to him when the inevitable happens – with your eyesight solely on him, barely registering your surroundings, you trip and fall into a ditch – an actual ditch, meant to be a hideout. And it was, to one of the commis chefs who was on your team by vest, on Seokjin’s team in reality. You ended up rolling into the ditch and falling on top of the poor guy, hurting your ankle in the process.

It hurt, it really did – the only reason you did not wail is because you didn’t want that bastard to hear you. You found the little dignity you had left and you grab a hold of your injured ankle with all the strength you have.

“Are you okay?” the guy asks you once he finally managed to move around and free himself from the weight of your entire body.

“No,” you shake your head. “Are you?”

“I’ll live,” he sighs. “Let’s get you some help.”

Bless him, he truly is a sweetheart. Even though you obviously didn’t fall on him on purpose, he still could have gotten pissed. He did not hold it against you – in fact, he helped you get up and once he realized your right ankle is the source of your troubles, he let you lean on him as he struggled to get the both of you out of the ditch. One minute that felt like an eternity had passed with the two of you still struggling to get up before someone in a blue vest showed up.

Of course. It just had to be him. Out of all the people around you, it had to be him.

“Are you okay?” he asks and before either one of you could answer, he was diving down, offering you a hand. The last thing you wanted to do was to accept his offer but with the way you and the boy have been struggling for the past few minutes, you knew that you did not have much of an option.

You don’t answer his question but you do take his hand and you let him drag you up from the ditch, with his commis chef pushing you from behind. The moment you stood up, you realize that you can’t do that – your right ankle cannot handle the pressure of your body weight. You flinch and crouch down, with Seokjin trying to keep a hold of you – it doesn’t work but it does annoy you. With how close he is, you can smell the cologne he uses.

It’s ridiculous. How can one smell good after running in protective gear for half an hour? How?!

“What happened here?” he asks you as you give up on everything and simply sit on the ground, bending your leg so that you can try and take your shoe off to see if there is any visible damage.

“What the hell does it look like – I fell!” you snap at him in annoyance, taking a deep breath while you remind yourself that even though he’s an ass, he’s not the one to blame for this. “Thanks for your help, you can leave now.”

“Do you need me to carry you back or-?”

“Go away before I shoot you,” you are tempted to throw your shoe at him but you hold back the urge. “The game is still going on, I have a gun and I’m pretty sure that a paintball shot at close range will hurt like hell. Just leave.”

You can see the annoyance on his face as he gives up on you completely. He walks away, leaving you with a very confused guy who by now must be feeling very uncomfortable. “I’m going to go get some help,” he tells you and you nod – his help you are ready to accept.

“Fucking hell,” you examine your ankle for the hundredth time, shocked by how bloated it has gotten. The hotel doctor has assured you that there is no fracture but he also promised that you will be in pain for the next few days. Being bedridden for the rest of the trip didn’t seem like a bad idea but come Monday, you’ll have to be in the kitchen again and you don’t know if you’ll even be able to stand.

“Does it hurt?” Mina asks, looking slightly appalled at the sight of your swollen leg.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to work next week.”

“I’m going to get you more ice,” Jeongguk sighs, looking at you in worry. “You’re going to rest that leg as much as possible. I’ll keep you company and we can watch a movie or something, but you’re not leaving this room,” he orders. Not that you needed someone to tell you that. It’s a perfect excuse to avoid Namjoon and his hippy movement, as well as Seokjin and his stupid face.

“I’ll be here,” Mina reassures him and with one final look of worry, Jeongguk leaves the room. Two seconds of silence later, Mina snaps back to life and turns to you. “Y/N, I need to ask you something.”

“Huh?”

“I need you to do me a favor,” she tells you, looking back to the door, as if she is expecting someone to burst through it in the middle of her telling you some state secret. “Can you please make Jeongguk join us tonight? Like… tell him to not stay with you? If you’re okay with being alone, of course,” she backtracks almost immediately as she realizes that you might actually need someone to keep you company. “Ugh, just forget I said anything,” she shakes her head.

“Mina, chill,” you chuckle. “I hurt my leg, I’m not dying. I can be alone. But… why?”

You can guess, but you still want to hear it from her. It’s pretty common knowledge that Mina has a crush on Jeongguk, and after all this time, you are pretty sure that Jeongguk has noticed it too. He’s not always the brightest cookie in the box, especially not when it comes to women and their subtle flirtation tricks, but Mina has been getting more and more obvious lately.

“I just want to talk to him one on one,” she sighs, looking at you like a kicked puppy. “He’s not going to figure out anything on his own, he’s dumb. I have to draw it and explain it and if that’s what it takes, that’s what I want to do. I’ll never have a better chance than tonight.”

“Not a problem,” you smile at her, willing to help. “I’ll just tell him to join you guys because I want to get some sleep. He’ll listen to me. But hun, it wouldn’t be fair of me to not warn you. Jeongguk is not a passive guy. He can be dumb but if he’s into someone, he won’t hesitate to make a move. If he hasn’t made a move yet, it’s likely that he doesn’t see you that way.”

You feel horrible, but you have to warn her. Jeongguk is a go getter by nature and you’ve seen him not hesitating with women ever since you could remember. Yeah, he’s dumb but he’s not that dumb. You don’t want to see Mina get her hopes up and then have them crashing down because he’s not into her.

“I know,” she sighs. “I also know he’s still a bit hung up on his ex,” you shiver, annoyed at the very mention of that bitch. Mina would have been a much better choice than any of his exes, if you’re being honest. “But I need it over and done with, one way or another. I will tell him I’m into him and he’ll either reciprocate or he won’t. By the end of the night, I’ll either write a new chapter or close the book.”

“Then go for it,” you encourage her. “Get your closure. I’ll kick him out as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” you let her hug you, even though she leaned on your injured leg a bit too much.

Kicking Jeongguk out was more of a challenge than you had originally expected. Being an amazing friend that he is, he just didn’t want to leave you alone and miserable, not to mention unable to walk. You had to insist multiple times that you want to be alone, that you will not move around unless it was absolutely necessary and that you will call him if you need his help.

Once alone, you were left with a bad selection of movies and thoughts about the telenovela going on downstairs. Mina and Jeongguk would truly make a good couple, you think. But Jeongguk… he is hard to predict. You can only hope that whatever happens, it doesn’t end in tears.

Halfway through a pathetic Lifetime Christmas movie and two steps away from sleep, a knock on your door rouses you from your daze. “Come in,” you call.

You expected Jeongguk, maybe Mina, coming to inform you of what had happened. Maybe Namjoon, who would be worried sick about whether or not you’ll be able to do your job in the days to come. Hoseok even, coming to check on his friend. The last person you had expected to see was Kim Seokjin.

“What are you doing here?” you’re too surprised to sound defensive.

“Hi,” he lifts his hand up in an awkward wave. “I just… I wanted to check and see how you were doing. And bring you some food,” it’s only then that you notice that he does have a plate of food in his hands.

“Is it poisoned?” you ask, and although you were joking, it wouldn’t be the first time that Kim Seokjin added a bit extra into your food. Before, he’d go overboard on spices and serve the food to you with an angelic smile. After the events of the past few days, you wouldn’t be surprised if he raised the stakes.

“I did not poison your food, Y/N,” he tells you and you notice that there is no humor in his words. Normally, when you accuse him of doing something you definitely won’t like, he teases and pretends you’re right, whether or not he actually did it. Now, he is as serious as you are. Another instance of him showing you that he knows he took it too far. “It’s atrocious, though. I hate hotel food.”

“Ugh,” you scrunch your nose in disgust, almost tasting the overcooked scrambled eggs that you’ve had this morning. Last night’s dinner was passable but this is not a fine dining location, that’s for sure. “What did you bring? Does it have any-“

“Peanuts? No, I checked,” he pipes up. You are left dumbfounded for a moment, wondering how his memory is good enough to remember your allergy. “How do you go about being an executive chef if you can’t eat a certain kind of food though?” he asks as he approaches your bed, handing you the plate of food. Steak, asparagus and mashed potatoes. One look at the steak is enough for you to know it’s most certainly going to be too well done. Seokjin moves away from you, choosing to lean on the wall as he waits for your answer. Well, it looks like you’re on talking terms now.

“It’s not that bad,” you tell him as you start cutting the food. “Worst reaction I ever had was a strong rash. I carry an epipen with me at all times and if something that has peanuts in it needs tasting, Jeongguk gets a go at it.”

“You trust him a lot, don’t you?” he asks, making you stop mid-chew.

“Of course I do,” you mumble with your mouth full. “He’s my best friend and my sous chef. He’s been my second in command for years, I’d trust him with my life. Don’t you feel the same about Jimin?” you ask, wondering if the friendship between them doesn’t run as deep as yours with Jeongguk, because you weren’t kidding – the dude has his moments, but you would trust him with your life.

“Of course I do,” he frowns at you. “It’s just that you and Jeongguk look like… two piece of a whole.”

“We are, we’re Dumb and Dumber,” you laugh, turning back to the food – at least the asparagus was grilled nicely.

“Are the two of you like… a thing?”

If your mouth was full, you would have chocked, without a doubt. Looking up at Seokjin, you find him looking away from you, almost bashfully. First he brings you food. Then he starts a civil conversation. And now he’s questioning your relationship with Jeongguk?!

“No, we’re not. Never were. Well, other than two days sophomore year, that is. But we realized quickly one of us would be murdered in cold blood if we upgrade from the friendship level,” you rant, wondering how it’s possible that you’ve actually forgot about having Jeongguk’s dick inside of you, once upon a time. In your mind, it just goes to show how your friendship truly is superior. “Wait, why are you even asking me that?”

“I’m just… trying to be friendly.”

“I’m sorry, but you being talkative and friendly is making me uneasy,” you tell him the truth. The last time the two of you have had a civil conversation… it was so long ago, you don’t even remember it. Was it freshman or sophomore year? And even back then, you never went past casual chit chat. With everything that has been happening recently, Seokjin being friendly is a huge red flag.

Whether it was malicious or not, it has become second nature for you to expect the worst from him. And in a very strange way, that is actually quite sad. A person who could have been a great friend or even just a colleague you enjoy working with, ended up being someone who annoyed you. Yes, at the beginning, it was funny, charming in a weird way too. It didn’t take long for it to turn sour and with the events from last week hanging above you, as much as you want to see the good side of your longtime rival, you just… can’t.

“I understand that you don’t want to be friends or anything like that,” he shakes his head and looks down at the ground, almost as if he’s frustrated with you but is too kind to show it. That has nothing to do with kindness because in your eyes, he’s holding back because he know he has messed up, big time. If you ever did something to him that could be considered mean, which you did not, it simply pales in comparison to him flat out stealing your recipe. “If I apologize as Seokjin to Y/N, you won’t listen,” it feels as if he’s talking to himself as he continues to avoid looking your way. “The only option I have is to apologize as a chef to another chef. You have every right to be angry with me. The recipe was not different enough for it to be considered my own creation. Had I known it would end up in the review, I never would have done it. But even if it did not, I shouldn’t have done it. And whether you can accept it or not, I truly am sorry.”

You don’t know him well enough to be certain whether his words are true or not, but he looks as if he is truly sorry. And while that definitely counts for something, it’s not enough, not really.

“I forgive you,” you sigh, choosing to move one lone asparagus around your plate instead of looking his way. “As long as it never happens again, I am willing to put it behind us. But that doesn’t change the humiliation I felt when I read that review,” finally, you muster the courage to look up at him, just in time to catch him swallowing a lump. “I can accept that you had no ill intent, but I have never felt more humiliated than I did the day that I read about someone else making my dish better than I did. And that’s not your fault. You’re a brilliant chef. That’s entirely on me.”

“Y/N, you know you’re an amazing chef, you know that…”

“I know,” you interrupt him, not exactly wanting to listen to him praising you. “I know I’m good. I don’t need your reassurance to be aware of that, but thank you anyways. I accept your apology and I’m willing to be cordial to you, if you can do the same thing. That being said… we’re not friends, Seokjin. We never were, you’ve made sure of that a long time ago.”

He looks dejected, and for a second, you feel like a bitch. You feel bad for not picking your words carefully, you feel bad that you’re the cause of the sad smile he offers you. The guilt doesn’t stay long, because as soon as you feel it, you remember the way you felt when you read that review. As much as you can forgive, your ego and self-respect will not let you forget.

“That’s okay,” he tells you, despite actually looking sad. It leaves you baffled because you can’t recall, not for the life of you, a time where he ever offered a friendly word or a helping hand. You know there were moments, you’re sure of it, but no matter how hard to try, none of them comes to mind. “I’m fine with it being a truce and not a friendship.”

“Okay,” you nod, wondering if you’ve ever felt this awkward in your entire life. There’s a fine line between being cold and plain rude and you feel as if you’ve walked very close to the wrong side of it. “Thank you for the food, that was very nice of you,” you add, wanting to at least appreciate the gesture.

“Don’t mention it. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says, giving you one final, small smile before turning around and heading towards the door. His hand is already on the doorknob when you speak up.

“Hey, I have a question,” it’s almost as if you had no control over the words that left your mouth. It’s too late to take them back now, because he turned around and is looking at you curiously. “Why?” you ask, feeling a complete idiot with asking him something so damn vague.

“Why did I make that dish?” he asks in confusion.

“No,” you shake your head, making an effort to sit up straighter, knowing you’ll be able to see him better from this angle, seeing as he’s still standing in the hallway. “You made the dish because it’s a damn good dish,” you say through a chuckle, feeling a little bit better about yourself when you see him grin and shake his head at your comment. “I’m just wondering how it got to this level of animosity between us. I can’t pinpoint when it started but at some point you took the regular teasing and jokes and just made it… too much. And I don’t really understand why.”

You normally didn’t think about it. You have a life, a job, a whole load of problems and your friends’ problems to take care of. You don’t spend your days wondering why Kim Seokjin could be such an ass sometimes. Now you are. Now, when you’re stuck here on the bed, unable to move because of your damn leg, you have more than enough time to wonder about his behavior. And with him being in your company, it’s easy to ask.

You’ve never seen Seokjin act this humble, shy even. Never before in your life, not even during the peaceful period between the two of you. You watch in amazement as his ears go red, him looking away from you and acting ashamed about you calling him out like this. You’re honestly baffled.

“I guess I just wanted to make you laugh.”

You’re too surprised to even come up with an adequate response. The middle school level pranks that turned into a full blow rivalry and competitiveness during your final years of school only to fully develop to straight up animosity in recent months? Because he wanted to make you laugh?

“Are you serious?” you ask, unsure if you should be angry or just stay confused. It makes zero sense.

“Sadly, I am,” he lets out a humorless chuckle. “I gotta get going. Enjoy your dinner, Y/N. Hope you recover fast,” he tells you and leaves without giving you a chance to say goodbye, although you’re not sure you’d been able to even say a single word. Staring at the wall in front of you, you are lost in thought when your door snaps open. Startled, you jump up, only to sigh in relief when you see it is Jeongguk.

“Did I hallucinate the whole thing or did Seokjin leave your room like a moment ago?”

“Nah, you didn’t,” you answer, still confused about the whole ordeal. “He brought me dinner.”

“You serious?” Jeongguk laughs as he plops down on the other side of your king size bed. “Your leg good?” he asks and you just nod, focusing back on moving around the sad little asparagus on your plate. “I guess tonight is just full of surprises. First Mina corners me to tell me she likes me, now Seokjin’s being nice… I swear there’s something in the water here.”

“Mina told you she likes you?” you ask, taking an opportunity to change the topic to something that isn’t about you. He nods, moving in to steal a piece of meat you’d cut up earlier. “What’d you say?”

“That I’m flattered but not interested,” he responds. Well, damn it. You can only hope Mina sticks to the mindset she had earlier: it doesn’t matter what the answer is, as long as her dilemma is over. “Don’t worry, I was very kind. She’s a friend for crying out loud, I’d never hurt her,” he adds, noticing the look of worry on your face.

“No, I know that,” you sigh, finally giving up on the food completely and leaning over to place the plate on your bedside table. “Why’d you say no? She’s a great girl. Smart, pretty, nice and hot. Full package.”

“She’s also a coworker,” he raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t shit where you eat. I’ll never have anything with someone I work with, I promise you that. Plus, I don’t feel that way. I adore the girl but not like that.”

“No, I get it,” you nod. “It’s better that you were honest with her. It’ll hurt like a bitch, seeing as she’s been hung up on you for a while. But it’s way better than dragging her along.”

“You knew?” he gasps at you.

“Of course I knew,” you roll your eyes, deciding to kick him in the shin with your healthy leg. He whined, even though you didn’t kick him hard at all. “I think everyone knew except you. She was heart eyes around you, 24/7.”

“Well, damn,” he sighs. “If I had known I would have said something to her, to stop her for wasting time on me… I guess it is what it is… So, what did Seokjin want, other than to feed you?”

“Feed me?” you snort. “At least someone remembered to bring me food, thank you very much”

“I was gonna,” he pouts at you.

“Sure you were,” you ignore his whines. “He wanted to apologize for the recipe theft. And I did forgive him for it. I’m still pissed and I’ll probably be pissed for a long while but it’s not going to change anything, is it? I’ll just drown in negativity and that review will still be there.”

“True. But it’s nice of him to apologize. Maybe even too nice,” he adds, suddenly frowning in suspicion.

“Oh god, you’re not going to believe what he told me,” you laugh, going back to the end of your awkward conversation with Seokjin. “I asked him why he did the things he did over the past years and his response was that he wanted to make me laugh.”

“To make you laugh?” Jeongguk asks with his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. I mean, I did laugh at the beginning, it was funny at first. Then it just… spiraled.”

“He wants to fuck you.”

“No,” you snort out, but the moment you see your best friend with his eyebrows raised, giving you a knowing look, you frown. “You think this was his version of ‘I like you so I’ll pull on your pigtails’?”

“I didn’t before but now I do,” he tells you with a shrug. “Honestly, that explains half the shit he did. If he’s not lying about doing it to make you laugh, he definitely has the hots for you. At least he did, back in school. That would also explain why Jimin teases him about you even when you can hear him.”

“You do have a point,” you mumble, remembering every damn time Jimin suggested that the two of you should fuck to solve your problems. Jimin is one of his closest friends, it’s not a stretch to think he knows something you don’t. “It sounds incredibly immature but also very Seokjin.”

“I know,” Jeongguk laughs. “You could recognize Mina’s behavior, I can recognize his. I’m honestly amazed that I did not figure it out sooner… I knew that it was an option but he never really gave me solid proof that my hunch isn’t wrong.”

“But it’s weird, isn’t it?” you ask, frowning at the thought. “Seokjin liking me? The two of us together?”

“Why would it be weird?” Jeongguk shrugs, as carefree as always. “He’s hot, you’re hot. You got along well before he pulled out his immature flirting tactics. Jimin might be onto something, with the two of you. Maybe you do need to fuck it out of your system,” he repeats the same words Jimin had used only a few days ago. Back then, it pissed you off. Now, they just confuse you.

“The guys hot, but his personality is shit,” you shake your head. “Not to mention that he failed to put two and two together when he did not make me laugh with the shit he pulled. Maybe he wanted something then but it’s too late for entertaining that option now.”

“If you say so,” your best friend laughs. “But if he’s suddenly acting this nice, maybe he wants to show you a side of him you might actually want to see.”

“You watch way too many romcoms.”

“And you don’t watch them enough,” he counters. “As smart as you are for some shit, you sometimes truly don’t see beyond what’s already in front of you. You’ll see it tomorrow. Now that it’s directly in front of you, you’ll start to realize that the dude just didn’t know how to flirt. Anyways, are you gonna eat your dinner or can I dig in?” he asks, looking at the plate of already cold food.

The man is an endless pit. “Knock yourself out,” you mumble, too last in your own thoughts.

Is this all your imagination or did Jeongguk have a point? If all he wanted was to try and flirt with you, Kim Seokjin is… dumb as fuck.

A/N: Hope you like it! Currently writing Part 3! Let me know what you guys think!

#jin smut #bts smut #jin scenario #bts scenario #jin x reader #jin x you #jin x y/n #jin au #bts au #jin fanfic #jin fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jin writing #glitter-kookiedough #glitterkookiedough

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g--r-e--e-n · 4 years

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The Crow

A late Mammon x GN!MC for the Max thingy!

Warnings: It obviously talks about a crow, just in case. The ending might seem quite rushed, I'm sorry, it was already too long :(. No spoilers, everything is before the MC's actual arrival to the Devildom.

Loud music echoing all around your house, singing and dancing like a madman through the corridors like it was no body's business, mopping the floor and trying to make something nice out of your free days.

Everything was perfect, just the way anyone would have always liked it. Yet, somehow… It felt empty, bitter, almost painful.

It hadn't been long since you and who you thought was your other half broke up. But you couldn't allow yourself to feel sad, not now.

You're young, you're strong, and you have a lovely future. You repeat it over and over, trying to turn the music louder than any thoughts you may have. It might not be the easiest thing to do, but trying won’t murder you, will it?

Finally there was not a single shadow of dust in your apartment. Not that there was anything before, but it helped keeping yourself busy. Now, finally, you only had to get rid off all the rubbish you somehow managed to collect.

You reluctantly turned off the music and made your way to the bins. Luckily, they weren't too far away: It was a cold, rainy day, and you'd rather stay at home instead of fighting the wind with your little umbrella,your hair a mess and your socks now wet.

Your day couldn't really get worse, yet you started doubting it the second you saw something dark moving in between feral pieces of litter someone didn't care about enough to throw correctly.

For a second you started believing in ghosts and God knows what but,soon enough, you saw a crow's deep black feathers, a painful caw breaking through the air like a thunder.

It was hurt, hungry, wet and cold. You could see how it bended it's right wing, unable to fly, a poor creature begging you with it's eyes, deep as the galaxy, were you clearly saw yourself, wet hair sticking to your face, comfortable yet not too fashionable clothes, eye bags hanging from your eyelashes, as pitiful as the poor bird in front of you, even if your wound was emotional rather than physical.

You didn't think twice before throwing your own raincoat over the creature, knowing that holding it with your bare hands would be rather dangerous.

Soon you headed home, crow surrounded in plastic like some bizarre newborn baby. It seemed to be weirdly docile, given its nature, but you soon learned to give it its space, holding it away from your face, barely able to keep the umbrella over your soaked bodies.

As soon as you get home, you lay him down carefully, keeping an eye on him and slowly getting rid of your wet shoes and reaching your phone.

The bird seemed scared, but it didn't move, eyes staying fixed on yours, its screams sounding more like begging than dangerous.

You soon sent a message to your good old friend Liam. Sure, Google is interesting, but Liam is your neighbor, a vet, and you've known him for years. This is not your first time rescuing feral animal in danger, so you knew for a fact you can rely on him.

Soon, he messaged you back, telling you that he's on his way with a cage so he can take the crow to the clinic. You couldn't help but chuckle, of course Liam wouldn't allow you to take the poor little thing in your arms, knowing how it could reduce your skin to vaguely human-flavored threads.

However, this also left you with a couple minutes alone with this somehow magnificent king of dumpsters. After observing him from a while, you walk backwards towards the kitchen. As soon as you could, you reapeared, hard bread on your hands and a smile on your lips, seeing how the bird stood still. Not that he had much option, of course. His right leg didn't seem too fine either.

Breaking a small piece of bread, you carefully and pretty cowardly throw it at the crow, thinking it would land before him, but being rather amused by the way the creature just catches it ever so quickly.

When Liam came, you had almost ran out of bread, and both the crow and you seemed so engaged in the game of throwing and catching that you barely realized the young man walking into the room, hair wet and a miracously almost dry cardboard box that you supposed was originally meant for holding fruit at the market,

You almost jumped when you heard him call you by your name, but soon your fear turned into a warm and welcoming hug, never minding his cold body, or how the crow ruffled its feathers, wishing it could growl in this pitiful form that barely managed him to caw drily. Something about the tall brunette slowly stroking your lower back managed to piss it off.

"Oh my God, you are such a mess!" Happily, and always positively, saluted you Ian. At times you feel like he doesn't really know when he's not supposed to be sincere, but not wanting to keep your new little friend waiting, you decide to keep your big mouth shut. "So... Where's our guy?"

His bright smile calms you down a bit, but its effects are quickly reversed by how the crow clumsily tries to run away, jumping on its one functional leg, only tangling itself with the raincoat still surrounding it.

Liam gives you a raised eyebrow. "I know I told you not to touch it too much, but a blanket would've been nice, you know?"

You simply shrug it off, not wanting to admit that you got too distracted feeding it to even be a decent human. The crow apparently agrees with Liam, because suddenly it's easy to move around again. You probably thought it was simply a funny coincidence, because, well crows are clever but, as far as you know, not THAT clever.

Who would've thought a poor demon would've gotten cursed by some witch? Not you, or not seriously, at least. As much as you love those sort of themes, reality doesn't allow them to become true.

A crow is just a crow, as clever as it could be. Not more, not less.

“Whatever. Let's do our thing, it's getting so late..." You softly sighted, eyes slowly dancing towards your window, the sky getting darker every second. Too invested in cleaning your bad memories out, you had barely realized how time had passed. Did you even have lunch?

If Liam noticed the brief sadness in your expression, he decided to leave you be, carefully holding the injured crow before leaving him in the cardboard box. The bird moved, cawed, yes, but he didn't seem to put too much of a fight. After all, Mammon might be a fool, but he'd much rather get back to Lucifer as soon as possible, thank you very much. Hanging upside down is not a pleasant experience.

Soon you were silently in Liam's car, the box resting in the backseat. Your friend's warm brown eyes were fixed in the road, but you both knew each other too well. He knew you were having a bad time. You knew he was plotting something.

"You know, after we drop our new son..." He softly said, taking a turn to the right. You braced yourself, both for his harsh driving and the proposal in coming. "We could go to the club, like in the good old days."

You softly laughed it off, even knowing Liam would easily catch the bitter feeling growing in your throat. "You know I'm trying to save my money, Liam. It doesn't grow from trees."

"I mean, technically..." He shrugged, turning now to the left. Even if he was being particularly gentle in order not to turn your feathery friend into a smoothie, you still had to stop yourself from screaming when the car almost ran over an elderly lady. "C'mon! There's a zebra cross like... Eleven meters away?!"

You slightly turned, sighing in relief seeing the crow is still safe.

"What I was saying" Liam continued, much to your dismay "I can pay for you, you know? I'm gaining some good cash now, and I don't have that many expenses. Plus, I'm pretty sure I owe you one from back in highschool."

A faint, but at least genuine laugh was thrown into the air as memories came back. Summer nights lying in the sand, gossiping and laughing, having a good time. "You dummy, that was ages ago! I just... Don't feel like going anywhere crowded."

"What about my place then? I've got some nice cheap booze. You look like you could use it."

He teasingly flashed you a bright smile before finally hitting the brakes and getting off the car. It was hard, but you managed to get out without fainting along the way.

"Well, thank you very much sir. You too look alluring" you sarcastically commented, before going to pick up the crow that stared at you so firmly with its jet black eyes that you felt the void within them could shallow you entirely any time.

Mammon doesn't have the best attention spam, or any sort emotional intelligence, but bring money to the equation and it may just change.

The human was short on money. Something Mammon, of course, understood very well. The human, even if a lowly human, had also saved him.

His little braincells were working hard, wondering if it was right to do what he thought to do. What if you were some terrible person underneath? What if you were a witch looking for a pact?

Luckily, he didn't have much time to drown himself in conspiracies, for soon he wad bring brought to the vet, and, by the way he was moving around, he did not enjoy it.

"Oh, C'mon, buddy..." You softly complained, struggling to hold onto the cardboard while Liam opened the clinic's door, fighting against the key. "I know it hurts. Just... Hold on a little, alright? Be a brave little boy for me"

You smiled at the crow, Liam suddenly laughing his soul off, loud enough for you not to pay much attention at the effect your words had had on the poor creature emiting broken caws.

"Do you always have to do that?" He mercilessly mocked you, finally opening the door and holding it for you, mainly because your arms were too busy, both with the crow and the hard fight against yourself to keep you from strangling Liam. "Come in, leave it on my table and wait outside, alright? Here, get yourself some coffee."

He absent mindedly thew you a coin. When Liam entered the clinic, he was no longer your dear and annoying friend Liam. He was the doctor. And the doctor was very cool at doing his thing, but pretty much useless at anything else.

Useless enough to throw a coin to someone holding a crow.

Of course, you couldn't just drop the guy or get the coin with your mouth like some dog, so you simply stared at him waiting for the realization to kick in. However, to your surprise, the crow threw itself as the coin, with as much grace as a bird with a wounded leg and wing can throw themselves at anything, which is, sadly, not much.

Luckily you did manage to keep him from failing, a soft smile flourishing as you saw him holding onto the coin.

"Please? I want to finish soon, the rum won't finish itself tonight." Liam was now in front of you, slightly surprising you. Trying your best to hide it, you hand him the crow. He simply sighed, struggling a bit to take the coin out from his beak, holding it out to you while taking the crow like a perfect choreography. "There you go."

You exaggerated an angry face as he petted your head a few times, managing to keep the animal in one arm like it was just natural before disappearing after the door.

Liam didn't like having you around while he works, specially if he knows it can involve anything even a bit gruesome. But this time you simply feel the need to be there with the pitiful crow, to help him and bring some hope into his beautiful eyes that seemed ever so intelligent.

The loud caws only made it worse, so you decided to get some coffee into your life.

Coffee at the clinic is bitter and far too strong, but Liam insists it's the only thing keeping him from falling asleep after specially complicated shifts.

You didn't really think twice before chugging it down, regretting it immediately. You were already nervous enough, why add caffeine?

You soon began wandering around the waiting room you knew so well, roaming next to the door to try and catch a glimpse of what could be going on in its guts. Liam is a good bet, but, what if something had gone wrong? What if it was not fixable?

A crow is not something you can keep in your house, is it? What would you do then? The closest animal rescue center is so far away, but perhaps you could take a few days off your obligation. After the whole situation with your ex, it’s very much needed.

Your constant thinking was soon relieved by a softly smiling Liam walking in with the crow resting in the cardboard box, looking all over like it too felt uncomfortable there. Its broken wing had been carefully wrapped in what experience told you was coflex. You couldn’t see his leg, but it must be in a similar situation.

“Our little man here has beheaved just fine” Liam said, softly. As much as he always made fun of how you spoke to animals, he was not that different. I mean, he did dedicate his whole life to this, didn’t he? “He should be able to fly in… Perhaps two weeks? It’s not a multiple fracture, which is rather relieving, but who knows.”

You slightly frowned. You did expect something similar, of course, but you wouldn’t normaly expect a bird with a broken wing to be half as lively as this one had been. A part of you admired his strenght, yes, but the other one felt simply curious.

“What about the leg?” you softly ask, bending a bit to see the creature eye to eye, barely saving enough distance to ensure your safety. “It couldn’t walk. What is it?”

“Give it around five or seven days and he will be walking all over” He tried your best to cheer you up, so you decided to at least gift him a little smile. “And he even seems to be eating well, so no need to worry, alright?”

You noded, standing up again to throw the empty cup of coffe in the bin, its bitter taste slowly dissappearing from your mouth as this new, warm feeling took you all over.

“So… Your house, right?” You flash Liam a smile while taking the crow carefuly. It seems to struggle against it for a bit, but soon relaxes. What else could it do?

Liam didn’t even bother to confirm what you already knew to be true, as he opened the doors once again and you stepped outside, the night’s cold air against your skin. Before you even realized it, you were siting in his kitchen, the crow resting on the counter, warm tears on your face, the burning feeling of alcohol down your throat… And dedscending through a rabbit hole of blurry memories and complains.

Trust me, there are many things you regret. But getting ever so wasted is deffinetly within the number ten.

You wanted to keep on with your life, you wanted to do your best, to show yourself you didn’t need any “other half” to be completed. You know, being active and stuff, putting yourself together.

But here you were, laying down in your bed on a Saturday afternoon, staring at your ceiling in pain and hunger, too hangover to even sit up and absolutely obliterate the bird that was screaming so loudly. God, that surely is another big regret of yours right now.

Still, you didn’t have the heart to let it starve, not again, so you slowly roll out from bed, holding your head with your hand, the same clothes you wore yesterday all wrinkled around your body.

“I know, I know.” You complain as if the bird knew what you were saying, too naive to realice he, in fact, was. It didn’t take you long to cross your rather small appartment to reach the kitchen, were you apparently dropped the bird yesterday, not that you remember much about it. You lazily searched for the bag Liam had given you, filled with sunflower seeds and… Crickets?

You look at the bird, hesitating a bit before sighing and walking towards it, leaving the open bag for it to eat and, hopefully, not get your floor too dirty. It seemed to be pretty hungry, as it devoured his meal without a single complain, quicker than ever. After all, Mammon was used to eat before Beelzebub could even dream of stealing his dear fuel.

Oh, how he missed his brothers. What could they be doing? Perhaps they didn’t even realice. Perhaps they were happier that way. He has always been “the scummy second born”, after all, so isn’t it a favour to dissapear like this?

You didn’t quite understand what was going on, but you did realice the way the crow’s eating speed decayed. Before struggling a bit against yourself and your huge headache, you spread your arm towards the bird, not daring to touch it, relieved when it didn’t seem too keen on murdering you, at least by the moment.

“Come here, little guy…” You carefuly stroke his head a few times. It seemed to enjoy it, but you still felt a bit too insecure to maintain the contact for too long. “You will be flying again in no time.”

You soon went to do your own thing, drink your pretty late breakfast, sit by the counter and silently tink of some name for your newfound friend. Little did you know this was but the start of a very wicked story.

The bird, who, to Mammon’s dismay you had called Liquorice, proved to be a rather interesting company, even when he could not move that much for the first few days. You found yourself spending most of your free time playing with him, or even telling him your deepest of secrets, not like he could judge you.

It was relaxing, no façade to be held, not a lie to be uttered. It was Liquorice and you, and it felt perfect. Either way, seeing how clingy he slowly grew to be, it’s not like it was one sided.

In four days the crow could already run around, and it seemed to want to look outside. Of course Mammon loved your company, but he was still worried. A part of him thought it was foolish, that nobody would miss him, but he knew Lucifer far too well.

Seeing how his wing wasn’t still healed, you decided to accompany him to his little walks all over the town’s outskirts, and it seemed to even strenghthen your relationship. You still cound’t be anywhere with people or vehicles, but fresh air was nice enough to make your black and white world broaden a bit.

Days passed by quicker than either Mammon or you would’ve thought, too lost in your little shennanigans to even mind the clock. Soon the crow was able to fly, as you discovered when it leaped from the fridge to the hallway, happily cawing around.

At first it was a happy moment, and you soon sent a hundred videos to Liam to show him how the little crow was doing so well. However, soon both of you had to face a realization: His time here was over.

Liquorice was a wild animal as far as you were concerned, of course, and you did not have the guts to keep him trapped. Not after knowing how that felt. However, something inside you felt uncomfortable with the idea of seeing your house empty again. Mammon, of course, also felt uneasy, but for very different reasons.

You see, for you this all had been helping a very funny crow. But he was a tad more conscious of the whole situation, and trust me, it was putting him through hell. Sure, he wanted to return to his brothers, but… What about this human?

He tried to convince himself this was just him wanting to protect a weak being as a “thank you”, but his lie was too obvious to ignore. He had seen you at your worst, in the nights when you drank alone and talked for hours about someone he simply knew did not deserve you. He had seen you at your best, dancing all across your house when you recieved any good news, cooing at him when he did even the smallest of things, like it was a great archievement you could barely believe. You had hold him close, you had kissed the top of his head, stared for ages into his eyes, not realizing the effect none of your actions had in him. He had slowly started to care, and he was not enjoying that idea, but what could he do?

He’s just a crow, and now that there’s no excuse for you to keep him around, it’s his time to go and dissapear, turning into a vague memory. God, why did he feel so impotent now?

You both struggled against yourselves in silence, until you came up with an idea.

“Let’s give it a day, alright, buddy? Just to see if you still remember how to move those wings of yours”

You showed him an empty smile he could tell from miles apart, but he couldn’t do much about it, drowning too deep into his own feelings.

The following day, both of you stayed at home, playing your little games of fetch, you laughing at how the crow beheaved almost like a little puppy, him silently swooning over the sweet sound of your laughter, almost forgetting the bitterness of the situation until night actually fell and it was time to close this wonderful little adventure.

You were both lying in the living room when night came, exhausted from running around, breathing heavily with a big smile to your face like it didn’t hurt.

“You know… I think it’s time already, right?” You slowly stand up, yawning softly. You didn’t really get too much sleep last night, and you sure as hell needed it. “Time to be free, little guy! Here, come.”

You carefully pick him up, close to your chest. You knew him too well to think he would hurt you, and the warmth was greatly appreciated by Mammon, who snuggled a bit within your embrace, trying to save this moment forever deep in his memories.

Being the avatar of greed, he’s used to the feeling of wanting, and, at times, not being able to. Yet, somehow, it didn’t stop this ugly feeling from blossoming in his now feathery chest. He felt so pathetic like this, so worked up because of a human being.

He and his brothers knew very damn well this wouldn’t lead anywhere nice. What could he do? Even if he managed to stay here, he knows his family can’t take another Lilith, and every second he spends here it’s harder not to fall even deeper for this trap his father seemed to have laid just for him.

Mammon convinced himself it was for the better, and soon did you. When you set him free to fly in the park next to your house, he didn’t even bother to look back as you screamed your goodbyes, the poor people around the park staring at you with a raised eyebrow as you soon deinflated with a big sight, knowing your routine was back to haunt you forever.

And of course, it did. You were back to doing your thing, spending your afternoons either with Liam and his new boyfriend or watching bad movies all by yourself, barely feeling certain melancholy as you found some stray feather hidden in your couch.

Liquorice was gone. Little did you know Mammon was not.

The young boy had found Lucifer as soon as he had left the park, and their little chat had been… Interesting. But at least it didn’t lead to his death, but rather to some extra chores and, finally, the hex coming undone, which meant he could always try to come back, even if he could no longer take certain adventage of your inocence.

Of course he went back to the House and Lamentation, and was made to attend every RAD lesson, but as soon as he was out of sight he was already walking over to your house, “accidentally” bumping you in the street from time to time, always trying his best to hide his identity, knowing you would probably be weirded out by always seeing the same guy around, and how easily his fluffy white hair and glasses could be told from any crowds.

You didn’t really think much of the many faceless guys you happened to encounter, of course. But what really made you ask yourself certain questions was the amount of little things showing up on your window frame, from stray coins to little glittery plastic jewelry. You didn’t want to think too much of it, but thinking it was Liquorice warmed your heart a little, and it was much less disturbing that thinking some random guy was passing daily around your home.

Mammon couldn’t help but swoon over the way you smiled, pressing his little gifts to your chest and looking through the window, the poor demon barely managing to stay invisible and attached to a tree he didn’t trust that much (C’mon, human, what made ya think livin’ on a fith floor was a good idea?), too scared to face you, too scared to leave.

Who would’ve told him it would be you, even if dragged by his dearest (and very aware) brother who would eventually face him, a feather necklace on your neck, smiling unkowingly and turning his little world upside down?

#Obey me #obey me mammon #om!#obey me swd #Obey me fanfic #om! swd #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #mammon x you

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tothedarkdarkseas · 3 years

Note

The way Vampire AU has taken off has really warmed my heart! So many great thoughts all round. I sent you some elaborations on my own personal headcanons for it as a submission, just for the fun of it. Enjoy!

Hi! I got your submission last night and read over it-- it's very elaborate, you've clearly put a lot of thought into fleshing this AU out and it sounds like a ton of fun. I know you mentioned at the end that you had no intentions of writing it because you're busy with other fandom projects, but I'm sure there are many who'd be interested in reading your ideas if you ever decided to make a sideblog for it. I'll post your submission for others to read below a cut here so that the post won't be too long on the dashboard, and I'll reply to some of the specifics underneath!

Yes! I have so many more thoughts on a vampire AU, I figured it would be easier to put them in a submission. Hope you don't mind.

The concept is just so fascinating to me, because so much of it lines up perfectly with the character dynamics we're given in the canon, and what doesn't has the potential to expand on and explore those dynamics in a really interesting way.

I agree 100 percent about the tone it would have to be written in. An actual brooding, dark prince Murdoc type of thing wouldn't work for me. (Murdoc would try to play up that persona, but in reality, he'd be far from it.) In my mind, the tone would be half What We Do In The Shadows and half Being Human UK. Four misfits living in a mouldering mansion somewhere, getting on each other's tits - but deep down they've got each other's backs. There's a bond, even if they can't quite explain what it is.

In my mind the bloodlust would function as an addiction. Murdoc is no Mother Theresa but he's not comfortable with indiscriminate murder either. (Guilt and self-loathing is not a good combination in Murdoc.) Knowing there is no in between for vampires - you can't have a sip here and there, it's abstinence or nightly slaughter - he stays teetotal from blood and tries to channel his desires into other addictions instead. Any and every addiction, really. Drugs, booze, sex, theft, you name it. Which is how he comes to be doing donuts in a stolen car in a Tesco car park, at the exact same time Stuart Pot is making a midnight run for condoms and Tango.

I picture Murdoc's turning of Stu would be this confusing moment that even he can't fully explain, so he's always switching his story about it. One day he'll say he didn't want to deal with the police, another day it'll be vampire enforcers he was afraid of - "total killjoys, they'll bung you in a blood-filled coffin for a hundred years over the TINIEST infraction". Other days he comes close to admitting he felt guilty, that he flipped out over the idea of killing someone after all, when he's dedicating all his energy to avoiding doing just that. Sometimes he just calls it a moment of madness.

But in every vampire movie, there's that moment. The moment where the newly-turned vamp rises from the grave as this beautiful unearthly creature of the night, and I mean . . . this absolutely would be Murdoc's experience of it. He's almost convinced himself there aren't real vampires like that, that it's all Hollywood bollocks, and then Stu rises up in front of him like some black-eyed, blue-haired god, and the part of Murdoc that isn't utterly gobsmacked by it can't help resenting the little sod for making it look so easy. Murdoc likes to take the piss out of him and claim he's like one of those Lost Boys California pretty boy vampires, but he's jealous really.

I imagine Murdoc would be similarly mercurial about how he was turned. There's always some hyperbolic story about it, designed to paint Murdoc in the best light. Sometimes he was the premier occultist of his day. Sometimes he sold his soul to the devil for immortality. Sometimes he was turned by a beautiful vampire seductress, who was bitter he broke her heart. It's all bollocks. The truth is definitely something less glamorous, and I would imagine actually much sadder as well? I'm not sure what, but I'm picturing something like Murdoc's father being some small-time occultist who sold his son to vampires, or maybe Murdoc was working some menial job and was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe he was turned by some vampire who would have drunk him dry, if Murdoc hadn't fought him off. Or maybe it's a bit of mystery, like the mystery of his mother in canon. Someone did this to Murdoc, someone made him what he is, but he has no memory of it. And all the different stories are actually partly a coping mechanism for that, as he tries on different explanations for size. (It would also explain why he would refuse to abandon Stu after turning him. Because navigating this new reality alone is something he wouldn't wish on anyone, even some dumb kid.)

I think the supernatural element would also be a great way to expand on and deepen Murdoc's relationships with Russell and Noodle. In supernatural fiction there are always two types of beings that hate each other. Usually vampires and werewolves, but often vampires and ghosts too. As, obviously, vamps can't drain ghosts, and they spend their lives running from the guilt of all the people they've killed. Ghosts are a constant reminder of that - and of the afterlife they both fear, and resent that they were denied. I can picture Russell maybe helping Murdoc exorcise the ghost of Hannibal or Jacob, and that's how they meet. (And why he has more patience with Murdoc than most. He's seen him at his most vulnerable.) Noodle would be great as a vampire hunter too. Her dynamic with Murdoc would be fraught as on the one hand, she respects Russell and venerates him for his connection to the spirit world, so to a certain extent anything he says she'll try to respect. And Murdoc is supposedly reformed, and she has moments where she even almost quite likes him. But her instinct is not to trust him. Her instinct is to put him down, and they both know it. As much as he battles his bloodlust around her, she battles her urge to put a stake through his heart, Van Helsing style.

Finding out he turned someone would be a MAJOR ruck in their relationship. But I think Murdoc would use 2-D to convince her and Russell to stick around - because he turned him, but it wasn't like he was chowing down on the lad, it was practically an act of charity, really. Practically an act of atonement. And if they both leave now, Stu is only left with Mr Bad Influence Murdoc Niccals, to teach him how to be a vampire, and restrain his urges and whatnot. And Murdoc has never been much good at all that AA, 12 step stuff, so unless they WANT poor sweet Stuart Pot to wind up spending eternity as some kind of crackhead . . . it would be a kindness to him, really, to stick around.

I could not agree more about how Murdoc turning Stu would mirror their Phase Two dynamic, with Stu literally having become "the thing Murdoc turned him into", and resenting that. But also, having moments of perverse gratitude for it? Stu is vain, and vampire Stu would be gorgeous, which I reckon he'd love. And though I think he'd hate that his normal life of footy with the boys and Sunday dinner at his mum's was over, I can also imagine him feeling this whole new world has opened up in front of him, something most people aren't special enough to gain entry to. And he likes that.

I can even see the fame thing and the band happening. Music would be a great, healthier way to channel the urges he can't act on. And I can see Murdoc agreeing. Admitting that he's been playing in bands for years, because it's actually a great cover for a vampire lifestyle. Being nocturnal is practically a prerequisite, when you're a rock star, and you can get away with looking all kinds of weird when you're in a band, because people just chalk it up to the aesthetic. Still, until he met 2-D, none of the bands he'd been in were actually any GOOD. 2-D reawakens his love of music, the same way he is the turning point for Murdoc's career in the canon.

Vampirism would also be a great way to explore Stuart's flaws. His vanity is an obvious one, but I can also see him avoiding his family and not letting them know why he'd disappeared for years. Just too self-absorbed to appreciate the harm it's caused. I can also see the pill problem happening as he imitates Murdoc's habit of abusing substances to try and blunt his bloodlust. I can imagine him saying stupid stuff like "you never even took me to the hospital!" and convincing himself he experiences phantom headaches, because he doesn't want to admit he's becoming just like Murdoc, actually. He tells himself the pills are medicine and he really needs them, and it's not the same at all.

And I can see him getting too carried away with his lusts, and having several near misses or disastrous incidents where he brings girls home and loses control of himself. Where Murdoc jumps in and saves it from getting too out of hand, but at the same time exposes how he's basically been stalking Stu "for your own protection", with a side of decidedly voyeuristic intentions. Stu has . . . strong (and somewhat confused) feelings about this.

I think Murdoc would be the same trouble magnet in the vampire underworld that he was in the criminal one. Feelings about Murdoc range from "this unwashed oik should NEVER have been allowed to become one of us" to "I WILL STAKE MURDOC FAUST NICCALS IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO". Murdoc would definitely continue his streak of petty crime any time he entered the hallowed halls of the vampire hoi poloi. He'd be pilfering left and right. And I can't imagine he'd ever kowtow to the aristocracy, which, in a subculture as obsessed with class as vampires . . . yeah, he's insolent, to say the least. And they hate it. They just hate Murdoc, generally. I imagine 2-D might consider crossing over to the dark side to join them, to spite Murdoc, before eventually he realizes that - amazing as it sounds - even Murdoc has higher moral standards than these people. Maybe he's better off with the devil he knows.

I love what you said about Murdoc and Stuart being hung by the same rope, for all eternity. That's exactly the dynamic I think a vampire AU would bring about. I also think Murdoc being Stu's vampire sire would be interesting in the romantic sense, as part of them would always second guess if that was the reason for the bond they feel. Are they developing feelings, or is all of this just the blood bond? I can imagine Stuart hating his own inability to judge why he feels so drawn to Murdoc, and I can see Murdoc trying to convince himself any possessiveness or pride or protectiveness he feels over Stu is just what all vampires feel when they turn someone. (Even though it's not.) It would be a potent brew.

Anyway, this was long but I will never have the time to actually write this (I have five WIPs in other fandoms already) so I thought I'd let it out somehow. Thanks for giving me the space to talk this over!

(If anyone wants to run with this and make something of it, by the way, have at it! Just credit me somewhere for the idea. That'd be good.)

This was quite a ride! I love the idea of Stuart Pot's mortal life ending when he's mowed down in a Tesco car park buying condoms and Tango. It's cruel to say it's what he deserves and frankly the complete antithesis of the whole conflict I'm begging for, but... it's what he deserves. I'm also very intrigued by the angle of treating bloodlust as an addiction: it could theoretically be overcome, but practically speaking, rarely is. This makes it easy to see how Murdoc spins off into such a cartoonishly extreme life of debauchery. I love the bit about Murdoc changing his story of what happened, both the night he hit Stuart and his own origin-- the difference being that Stu does know what happened to him, whether he ever chooses to believe Murdoc's ever-shifting justifications for it or not, but no one can ever really know where Murdoc came from except himself. I definitely agree that the truth has to be less glamorous, less thrilling, less worthy of tales and legends. I like Stuart and Murdoc best when they are not men born into greatness nor men born for greatness, not inherently, and I love the private grappling with the belief that they are special and the fear that they probably aren't. Your explanation of the foil-like dynamic between vampires and spirits/ghosts is interesting, I don't know if that's an established piece of vampire lore or if that's your own invention, but I think it's a really solid one. I don't know if I've truly seen those two creatures explored in a world together with such a direct emphasis on that ghoulish ecosystem, so to speak.

And, well, I'm quite predictable but I'm ready to invest $5k in a full novel exploring Stu's estrangement from his family and friends following the transformation, the psychological toll it takes to choose-- though he may feel he has no other choice at all-- to abandon those relationships, how his own descent may mirror Murdoc's as he shelters himself in chalk-tablet excess and a vibrant, at times frightful carnal life to distract himself from the guilt. I'm dying to see how he could approach mending those fences again after years away. It isn't something one sweeps under the rug, isn't something that he can make amends for. This sort of thing shatters a family, and in my imagining of Rachel and David, it certainly shattered his. This kind of permanently-marred family drama really captivates me and is something I don't think we should shy away from in stories about addiction, and it would be fascinating to explore the human element of that against the metaphorical monstrous one.

I love what you mentioned about the "blood bond" and how it factors into the pull between them they're too unsettled to really name. This adds an extra layer of confusion, as you say, and better justifies why they find themselves orbiting each other, pretending there's a blood-coloured chain tethering them and ignoring the heavy weighted padlock in the middle that pulls them down, down, down. I've spoken a lot on this blog about why Stu is participatory in the relationship when he dislikes Murdoc in such a profound way, and while I absolutely never tire of the messy, bleak human weakness and ego of that, it would be quite special to explore that with something that almost feels like an excuse for Stu, a macabre justification entirely out of his hands; it gives him permission to be part of this broken spiral and absolves him of the responsibility of acknowledging his choice. I'd like to think he still lives with it, as Murdoc does too, but they may appreciate the safety of the smokescreen as much as they struggle to see through it.

Thanks for sending me your ideas, I hope other readers will enjoy seeing your elaborations, and if you're having fun thinking about these two goons I'd encourage you to consider making a blog. Sometimes you get lucky and draw in people who are incredibly kind!

(Lastly, unrelated fun fact about vampirism in my life: my first job was playing a vampire at a haunted amusement park. Our "Scare Zone" was designed as a junkyard taken over by a vampire gang, and I was the "queen" with a throne made of old tires. It was... a fun job and also not a fun job, haha.)

#anon au #thank you!

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rainofaugustsith · 3 years

Text

Fanfic

More world-building with Viri’s parents, rattling around in my head. In this snippet, Viri encounters one of her mother’s exes. Yes, I borrowed a line from Rogue One. You’ll know it when you see it.

3638 BBY, Makeb

“Lord Wrath, with all due respect, you’re not listening.” Dr. Naerx of the Imperial Science Bureau has worked with many Sith. Many Moffs. But this one is pissing him off.

Viri crosses her arms and sets her jaw. “I am listening. I comprehend exactly what you are telling me. You do not understand that I do not find it to be an acceptable solution.” ”It’s the path of least resistance,” Dr. Naerx insists. ”Easiest in the short term,” Viri concedes. “In the long run, it is still not acceptable. You are proposing a so-called solution that would leave the planet with deadly levels of radiation.” ”We could still mine the Isotope-5!” Naerx snaps. ”Yes, as long as we’re willing to sacrifice a mining team every single week from the radiation poisoning,” Viri retorts. “I said no. This is my mission. Your plan is rejected.” On the holos surrounding Viri, the other scientists exhale with relief. ”If you are so sure you know what is best to do, why do you even have us working with you?!”

“My experience is in biochem,” Viri says smoothly. “Physics and geology are not my areas of expertise or training. And even if they were, I’d be a fool to try to save an entire planet on my own.”

”But you are rejecting our plans!” ”I rejected your plan, Dr. Naerx. The proposals made by Nadrin and our colleagues have been much more helpful. They are not being rejected.” ”I’m relieved to hear that, my lord,” A Dr. Beline speaks up, and Viri turns to her. Beline involuntarily gasps. The Emperor’s Wrath has her mother’s eyes, piercing and inquisitive. ”Are you all right?” Viri, ever perceptive, notices her discomfit. ”Nothing, my lord,” Beline stammers. “You favor your mother, and it caught me by surprise.” ”Did you know my mother?” The Wrath asks, her tone of voice softer. ”Yes, I worked extensively with Dr. Dragoi,” Beline confirms. “A brilliant scientist.” ”If you’re done kissing up to the Wrath, we should get back to work,” Naerx snaps. ”Dr. Naerx, if you intend to continue working on our project, you will need to show respect to me and to your colleagues,” Viri says calmly, casually flexing her hand in view of the holo. “Don’t choke on your own hubris.”

Naerx flushes. “As you wish, my lord.” Viri turns back to the assembled group of scientists. “I think the proposal made by Doctors Beline, Hamre and Vesh has merit and potential. It would still cause tremendous damage, but from what you are saying, once the initial devastation is over it would be safe. I’d like to continue with that line of development.” ”We’ll get to work. We should have something for you tomorrow.” ”Excellent. Thank you all. You are dismissed.” Viri nods and the holos go dark. * Viri rubs her head as she returns to her cabin. The Makeb ground team has done their best to give her, Vette and Jaesa a decent place to stay, but on a dying planet, there’s little that can be provided. As she sinks down on the thin mattress she finds herself wishing for the comfortable surroundings of her own ship. But it’s under heavy guard at the Makeb orbital station, and it would not be safe to attempt to bring it to the surface. Viri’s datapad beeps, and she rolls her eyes. Work is never done when one is the Wrath. There is an anonymous email in her inbox, with the subject line: You should know this. A holo video file is attached. Viri clicks ‘play’ on the video and raises her eyebrow. There’s nothing scandalous here. The video depicts two women, sitting close at a cafe table. One, Viri immediately recognizes, is a much younger Dr. Beline. The other is only seen in profile, her long auburn hair in a tight braid, but when Dr. Beline kisses her, she turns her head and laughs. And she is very obviously Tullia Dragoi.

Viri’s jaw drops as she watches the rest of the holo. ”What’s the occasion, ladies?” a male voice says off-camera. ”Third anniversary,” Tullia says. “Three very happy years.” Dr. Beline raises a glass to toast Tullia. “Indeed they are.” The holo fades to black and Viri sits back in her seat, dumbfounded. When the door to her cabin opens, she does not even turn around. ”Viri, I got the…are you all right?” Vette waves a hand in front of her face. “Ground control to the Wrath. Come in, Wrath.” ”I’m fine,” Viri says, shaking her head. “I just had a bit of a surprise.” ”What?” ”Look,” Viri presses ‘play’ on the message again. ”Aw, Dr. Beline! And…oh stars, is that your mother?!” ”Yes,” Viri says quietly. ”She wasn’t…you don’t think she was cheating on your father, or…” ”No, I don’t,” Viri says. “She looks way younger there than I remember her.”

”Who sent this to you?” ”I don’t know. It’s a cloaked message. But it’s obviously someone on our team.” ”They aren’t happy you agreed with Dr. Beline,” Vette observes. “They’re hoping you will turn on her.” ”They obviously don’t know me, do they?” Viri chuckles. “I’ll need to speak to the doctor about it, but this isn’t grounds to turn on her.” * It’s 3 in the morning on Quesh when Dr. Beline’s holo begins to ring insistently. She rolls out of bed and groans. Makeb’s time zone is completely off balance; she has become accustomed to these off-hours calls. ”Beline here,” she says, yawning. “What do you need, Nadrin?” Her eyes fly open when she realizes the caller is the Emperor’s Wrath, staring at her with a curious expression. ”I apologize for calling so late,” Viri says, “But you should know there’s an attempt at subterfuge at hand. Apparently, someone would like me to be angry with you.”

”I’m not sure what you mean…” ”Someone sent this to me anonymously,” Viri shows her the holo. ”Oh,” Dr. Beline says, her shoulders sagging. “I see. I’m not sure how anyone got that.” ”You may wish to check your security,” Viri says. “The holo said it was your third anniversary. Am I correct in assuming that you and my mother were involved for quite some time?” ”Yes, that is true,” Dr. Beline says. “It was well before she knew your father, if that matters at all.” Viri shrugs. “I thought so. She looks far younger than I remember. How did you meet?”

”We went to college together,” Dr. Beline says. “We helped each other with our dissertations. She was wonderful. She always listened. I don’t think I would have earned my degree without her encouragement.” ”And how long were you together?” ”About four years. Closer to five.” ”What happened? You looked happy, and you obviously shared some interests.” Beline shrugs. “We just drifted. We had different goals. There was no blowout; no dragged out fights. We just…felt that we’d fallen out of love, if that makes sense. We did remain friends. I came to her wedding. She came to mine. She introduced me to my wife, in fact. We corresponded until she…until she passed away. She’d always send holos of you, you know.” ”Was she kind to you?” ”Always.” ”And were you kind to her?” ”Yes. Always.” ”All right,” Viri says quietly. “I’m not sure why anyone would think that would make me angry. I might not have known you by name, but I was certainly aware that my mother had other relationships before she met my father.” Dr. Beline shrugs again. “Perhaps they are expecting a certain lack of maturity or insight. A poor calculation, in my estimation.”

Viri smiles slightly. “Indeed. I think for both of our sakes, it would be wise not to mention this, or my parents, within earshot of the others. But…it’s actually nice to meet someone who knew them.” Beline nods. “I can understand that. I know my opinion may not matter to you, but I think you should know…they would be so proud of you.” ”I appreciate that,” Viri says, her face unreadable. “Thank you.” ”Is there anything else, my lord?”

”No,” Viri says. “And I know it’s the middle of the night on Quesh. I’ll let you go. But…thank you.” ”Thank you, Lord Wrath.” The holo goes dark. * Back in their cabin on Makeb, Vette and Viri both sit back and exhale. ”I thought that would be awkward. But it wasn’t,” Vette observes. “If I’d met one of my mother’s exes, I don’t know how I’d feel.” ”To be honest, I would have been fine never knowing this particular piece of information. She had a life before she was my mother,” Viri chuckles. “I’m not privvy to that, and I don’t know that I should be.”

“Did you know she liked women too? Like you?” Viri nods. “Yes, that I did know. Although unlike me, she also liked men. Obviously, since she married my father. When I was a kid, she made a point of telling me that whoever I was attracted to, it was fine.” ”Do you think this is going to make things weird with Dr. Beline?” Viri shakes her head. “No. Although I think Naerx’s participation in this project needs to be reconsidered. I have no doubt this pettiness was his doing.” ”You weren’t really going to choke him today, were you?” ”Nah. But he knows I could.” ”Do you really favor your mother? Beline said it, and I wondered.” ”Judge for yourself,” Viri says, pulling her holo-locket out from under her shirt and activating it. A portrait of young Viri and her parents flickers into view. ”Hm,” Vette says, studying the portrait and looking back at Viri. “You get your height from them. Even in this portrait one can tell they’re tall. Your father’s nose. Your mother’s eyes, definitely. And your overall face, it looks a lot like hers.” ”I’m glad I look like them,” Viri says softly, closing the locket.

#Viridana Dragoi #Vette and Viri #fanfiction #fanfic #headcanon incoming

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