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tanadrin · 2 years ago

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[epistemic status: a bunch of semi-related thoughts I am trying to work out aloud] It has been noted countless times that reactionary politics rely on a feeling of threat: our enemies are strong and we are weak (but we are virtuous and they are not, which is why they’re our enemies!); we must defend ourselves, we must not be afraid of doing what needs to be done; we must not shie away from power generally, and violence specifically.

And there are lots of contexts--like when talking about the appeal of reactionary politics in the US before and at the beginning of Trump’s rise to prominence, or when talking about hard-on-crime policies that are a springboard to police militarization, or (the central example of all this in the 21st century) the post 9/11 PATRIOT-act terrorism paranoia that was a boon to authoritarians everywhere, and spurred a massive expansion of both control and surveillance in everyday life--where critics of reactionary rhetoric are chastised for their failure to appeal to the other side, because they come off as callous towards their concerns and their real fears and anxieties.

And while this might not be strategically correct, frankly, I think there’s a sense in which it is justified to be callous towards those concerns. Because those concerns are lies. They may be lies borne out of a seed of real experience (9/11 did happen, of course), but the way that seed is cultivated by focused paranoia, by contempt toward cultivating any sense of proportionality or any honest comparison of risk, the way it is dragooned into the service of completely orthogonal political goals (”the CIA/NSA/FBI must be able to monitor all private communications everywhere in the world, just in case it might prevent another 9/11″) chokes off any possible sympathy I might otherwise feel. American paranoia about another couple thousand lives being lost in a 9/11 like event resulted in a number of deaths literally multiple orders of magnitude larger in Iraq and Afghanistan. During the former, some years Iraq was suffering the equivalent of six or seven 9/11s a year.

So, any fear-driven policy must not (for example) say “to prevent disaster X happening again, we’re going to make it happen 270 times over to someone else.” That’s not reasonable. And “fear is a bad basis for crafting policy” is not exactly a revolutionary observation. There’s that probably-apocryphal story of a Chinese professor responding to Blackstone’s Ratio--you know, “better that ten guilty persons go free than one innocent person suffer”--with “better for whom?” Which is supposed to be this trenchant and penetrating question that makes you reexamine your assumptions. But it’s always struck me as idiotic. Better for society! For everyone! Because the law only functions well if it is seen as a source of order and justice, not as an authoritarian cudgel; because a society in which anxiety drives policymaking and legal responses to social ills is one that is in the process of actively devouring itself; because flooding the public discourse with language that dehumanizes criminals and makes it easy to separate the individual from universal principles like civil rights is an acid that destroys the social fabric.

Fear as a germ of reactionary politics manifests itself in lots of ways outside of both historical examples, like fascism, or more recent examples, like US foreign policy during the war on terror. Fear and its link to purity-attitudes, with a low level of scientific literacy in general, drives stuff like the organized anti-vaccine movement. In the Hertzsprung-Russel diagram of political tendencies, I’d argue it’s a big factor in the wellness-to-Qanon track. It’s a big part of tough-on-crime rhetoric, which in the American instance in particular also draws on an especially racialized form (cf. the “Willie Horton” ad). Fear and purity and anti-contamination anxieties are even big in opposition to nuclear power, because most of the public just has a really bad sense of what the comparative dangers of nuclear vs fossil fuel are; and because the former has been culturally salient since 1945 in a way the latter hasn’t, nuclear contamination feels much more threatening than fossil fuel waste, despite by any measurable harm the latter causing far worse problems, even before you factor in any risks from climate change.

I would like to argue in particular that true crime as an entertainment genre, and wellness culture, and fears about child abuse all contribute to reactionary politics--they are in themselves major reactionary political currents--in a way that cuts across the political spectrum because they are not strongly marked for political factionalism. A lot of the rhetoric both from and around true crime entertainment promotes the idea that violent crime exists, or at least can flourish, because of an insufficiently punitive attitude toward crime; one that can only be fixed by centering victims’ desire (or putative desire) for retribution in the legal process, by eroding the civil rights of the accused, and by giving the police and prosecutors more power. Obviously, this is just 80s and 90s tough on crime rhetoric repackaged for millennials; it centers individual experience a bit more and deemphasizes the racial component that made the “Willie Horton” ad so successful, but it posits that there is only one cause for crime, a spontaneous choice by criminals that has no causal relationship with the rest of the world, and only one solution, which is authoritarianism.

Wellness culture leverages purity concerns and scientific illiteracy in ways which are so grifty and so transparently stupid that it’s by far the least interesting thing on this list to me; its most direct harm is in giving an environment for the anti-vaccine movement to flourish, and I’m always incredibly annoyed when people talk about how the medical establishment needs to do more to reassure the public about vaccines’ safety and efficacy. Again, strategically, this may be correct; people dying of preventable disease is really bad. But doctors as a body didn’t promote Andrew Wakefield’s nonsense; doctors as a body didn’t run breathless article after breathless article about vaccines maybe causing autism; doctors as a body didn’t scare the bejezus out of folks in the 90s and then act all surprised when preventable childhood diseases started breaking out all over the place.

Although outside the whole anti-vax thing, I think there are lots of other harms that wellness culture creates. It tends to be fairly antiscientific; in order to sell people nonsense (because as a subculture it exists almost exclusively to sell people things) it has to discredit anything that might point out that it is selling nonsense. Whether the anti-intellectualism that flourishes in these quarters is a result of intentional deceit or just a kind of natural rhetorical evolution probably varies. But it is an important component of wellness culture to be able to play a shell game between “big pharma doesn’t have your best interests at heart,” “you don’t need your anti-depressants,” and “laetrile cures cancer.”

The way in which fears of child abuse are turned into a reactionary political cudgel probably actually annoys me the most; whether it’s Wayfair conspiracy theories, conservatives trying to turn “groomer” into an anti-queer slur, or just antis on tumblr, the portrayal of sadistic sexual threat aimed at children from an outside malevolent force is compelling only because the vast majority of child abuse and CSA comes from within families and within culturally privileged structures of authority like churches, and this fact makes everyone really uncomfortable, and no one wants to talk about it. I remember getting really annoyed during the Obama years when the White House wanted to talk about bullying and anti-LGBT bullying in particular, while studiously avoiding blaming parents and teachers in any way for it, despite the fact that all the coming out horror stories I know are from people’s parents turning on them.

Now, very conservative politics have always opposed dilution of a kind of privilege for the family structure; they envision a family structure which is patriarchal, and so dilution of this privilege is dilution of the status of patriarch. Very insular communities which cannot survive their members having many options or alternative viewpoints available to them, including controlling religions but also just abusive parents who want to retain control over their kids, also bristle at the idea of any kind of general society-wide capacity for people to notice how parents treat their children. But beyond that, I think our society still treats parents as having a right of possession over their children and their children’s identities, especially when they’re young, and bolsters that idea with an idea that the purity of children is constantly under threat from the outside world, and it is the parents’ job to safeguard that purity. The result is the nuclear family as a kind of sacred structure which the rest of society has no right to observe or pry open; and this is a massive engine of enabling the abuse of children. To no other relationship in our society do we apply this idea, that it should be free from “interference” (read: basic accountability) from the rest of society.

Moreover, the idea of childhood as a time of purity and innocence, which not only must be protected from but during which children must be actively lied to about major aspects of how the world works, is one of the last ways remaining to an increasingly secular culture to justify censorious and puritanical Victorian morality. It is hard to advocate for censorship to protect the Morals of the Christian Public, when nobody believes in the Morals of the Christian Public anymore; but “think of the children!” still works as a rallying cry, because of this nagging sense we have that age-appropriate conversations with children about adult topics will cause them to melt or explode.

In many ways, these anxieties on behalf of theoretical children are the ones I am most contemptuous of. Not because child abuse isn’t a serious problem--it is--but because the vector imagined for it is almost entirely opposite the one it actually tends to occur along. People who pretend that the primary danger to children is from strangers are usually woefully misinformed; people who pretend it is from media are either idiots or liars seeking a cover for their craving for censorship.

In conclusion: while it’s not possible to exorcise all our neuroses from our politics, anymore than we will ever exercise all our neuroses from our aesthetics, there are some we should be especially on guard against. A sense of threat, and anxieties which tie into concerns about purity and fears of contamination, are two big ones. These produce policies that are not only badly correlated with the outcomes they ostensibly want, but actually and severely destructive to them, in the same way that invading Iraq was actively destructive to any notion of preventing terrorism, saving American or Iraqi lives, or promoting political stability in the Middle East. And we should hold in healthy suspicion anybody whose politics seem to be driven by similar neuroses. Some merely believe very harmful things. Some are actually actively deceptive. None will achieve any of the higher aims they claim as justification for their beliefs.

#i'm not saying we *must* radically reshape society to destroy the nuclear family #but i am saying i think it would be good for child welfare

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the-insomniac-emporium · 4 years ago

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Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T for language, implied cannibalism (because Vampires)

Warnings: Aforementioned implied cannibalism

Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering… could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique “soul mark”, which they share with their soulmate.

Notes: Features a cameo of sorts for my OC, Avaskian Caldwell. Not beta read.

Previous Chapters: 1: In The Shadow Of Giants, 2: Uncertain Destinations

3: Eat Your Heart

“Well,” Bela says, only moderately sounding hostile, “I do believe that marks the end of our tour. Unless you would like to see the dungeons? Perhaps get a proper look at where you might end up, hmm?” Resisting the urge to roll your eyes is more difficult than you would have preferred. Somehow you manage, though, and reply in a relatively relaxed tone.

“I think I’ll have to pass. After all, I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner, now would I?” You incline your head towards a nearby clock to emphasize your point. For a split second Bela seems surprised, as if she hadn’t been keeping track of time at all. But the look vanishes as quickly as it came about, soon replaced with a calculating gaze, and she gives a short nod. “Is it safe to assume that you eat together, as a family?” Another nod, this time accompanied by a small look of confusion. “Mmm, sounds wonderful. It’s been far too long since I’ve shared a nice family meal.”

That certainly wasn’t what Bela had expected you to say.

“Oh? I do hope that you can stomach the sight of blood, then. Otherwise it might not feel so nice,” she replies, after a slight pause. Her earlier confidence had returned, further bolstered by the resulting giggles from her sisters. They were a chaotic bunch. Regardless, Bela soon takes your wrist in her hand, pulling you towards the dining room, grip only tight enough to be slightly uncomfortable. Both of her siblings followed closely behind, occasionally whispering unintelligible jokes to one another. One in particular leaves Daniela pausing in the hallway, hunched over laughing, with an unnerving edge of something else you couldn’t quite place. A backwards glance in her direction leads you to make eye contact with Cassandra, who gives you a knowing smirk. Deciding that you didn’t want to know what she had said, you turned back towards Bela, and stayed facing that way until you reached the dining hall.

Inside, Alcina was already sitting at the head of the table, in a chair that would have seemed a throne to anyone else. On either side of her are two more seats, far less ornate than her own. For a moment the sisters and you hesitate in the entranceway. Evidently they weren’t accustomed to this particular arrangement, unsure where to sit. It’s not until Bela clears her throat that Alcina speaks up.

“On my left, dear,” she says, eying her eldest daughter, before turning to you. “You may sit to my right. I trust that you’ll find this agreeable?” Well, you weren’t exactly about to argue with her, so yes, you found it agreeable. Even if it meant sitting across from the more ‘direct’ member of your opposition. Though perhaps ‘judge’ and/or ‘jury’ was a better word for the Dimitrescu daughters. Regardless, you were going to have to sit with them, and in the end it hardly mattered who was where. As such, you semi-awkwardly made your way to your seat, hoping that you’d eventually feel less out of place. Soon enough Cassandra takes the spot next to you, giving you a concerning smirk as she does. What did she have planned? Before you can even contemplate her intentions, her mother is talking again, drawing both of your attention towards herself. “Splendid. I’m glad to see that you’re already finding your place here.”

It’s not hard, you think, when you’re directing my every step. Despite your biting internal commentary, you do not speak out loud, merely giving a polite smile and nod. Across from you, Bela gives her mother an affectionate expression before fixing you with a subtle disapproving look. Taking some small comfort in the fact that she wasn’t being openly hostile, you forced yourself to keep smiling, meeting her gaze with as much confidence as you can muster. Within moments both of you have your attention drawn elsewhere, thankfully, as servants begin carrying in various food platters. Most of the dishes appeared to be perfectly normal. But looks could be deceiving, and you knew that at least a handful had to contain less “traditional” ingredients. They remembered to cook something normal for me, right?

Soon enough your fears are somewhat alleviated, as one of the servants places an already filled plate in front of you. Admittedly you don’t recognize xer, despite xer oddly silver hair, or the red bandana xe wore. Something told you that xe wasn’t just another maiden, however, especially with the way xe brazenly made eye contact with each of the Dimitrescus. Before you could inquire about xer, you’re distracted by the arrival of Juniper, who instantly smiles when she sees you. In her arms she carries the last two side dishes and several empty plates, which the unknown servant gently takes from her. Together the two of them set the final items into place. Wordlessly, the grey-haired person removes a notebook from xer back pocket, handing it to Juniper with the barest sliver of a smile. Clearly having done this more than once, she accepts it readily, opening it to a bookmarked page.

“My Ladies, and our dearest, most esteemed guest, I present to you another fine selection of traditional Romanian dishes, for your sincere enjoyment. Today we will be drinking one of our more popular styles of wine, known as Febris Amatoria, meaning ‘fever of love’ in Latin,” she reads, only somewhat shakily. Next to her, the stranger inclines xer head to your employers, then does the same to you. At this point you have to assume that xe doesn’t speak, and that Juniper was serving as a translator of sorts. “Due to the unexpected nature of our guest, the dishes are not clearly marked in regards to their ingredients. You have my- as in Mx Caldwell- assurance that this will be handled by the next standard mealtime, where the shared dishes will be color coded. In the meantime, I- again, Mx Caldwell- will remain here, in order to prevent any… unintentional ingestion of human remains.” Gulping, Juniper returns the notebook to the stranger (Caldwell, apparently), then exits the room alongside the other servants.

“Isn’t Febris Amatoria also another name for a type of anemia?” Bela asks, slowly swirling the contents of her glass as she does. Caldwell, who had moved to stand several feet behind Alcina, gives a nod in response, and appears mildly amused.

“A clever allusion to our family’s nature, isn’t it? I know Daniela has certainly drained a number of ‘lovers’ over the years, perhaps causing a case or two,” Cassandra teases, much to her younger sister’s irritation. Personally you were surprised that she was willing to admit such a thing in front of her mother. Unless you were reading too much into the word ‘lovers’, due to the rumors you had heard regarding Lady Daniela. Nonetheless, the Lady in question is aggravated enough to sit up, looking ready to lunge across the table at Cassandra. As soon as Daniela moves (with frightening speed), her sister easily catches her wrist, using her other hand to wave a finger back and forth. “Ah, ah, ah, Dani, we have a guest. Do try to behave yourself.”

“Oh, because you’re the epitome of table manners? I’m amazed you haven’t already managed to spill wine all over your dress,” Daniela counters, before ripping her arm away from Cassandra. They both huff, but are quick to quiet down when their mother sends them a look. “Dinner looks delectable, as usual, Ava,” Daniela continues, after clearing her throat, accentuating the end of her sentence with a gesture of her wine glass. Then she takes a long drink from it, perhaps thinking that a little intoxication might make the evening easier to get through. Deciding that maybe she had the right idea, you take a sip from your own glass, relishing the subtle hint of lavender.

In the minutes that follow, things slide into easy comfort. Caldwell once more moves closer to the table, helping pass along side-dishes from person to person, quietly pointing out which ones you could safely consume, occasionally chuckling in response to the jokes that the daughters shared. A strange warmth built itself up within the center of your chest, heart yearning for age-old memories of your own family. Three months had passed since the last time you felt this way. Really, it felt so much like family that you didn’t catch the way Cassandra’s lips twitched into a smirk, or the way she met Bela’s gaze, or the way she pushed a dish just a tad further towards you than necessary. All it had taken was a single second of your gaze turned elsewhere… then you were reaching for the castle’s special variety of forbidden fruit.

“Ayye, nyet, nyet!” Caldwell snaps, voice oddly strained, hand wrapping around your wrist in an instant. All eyes are on you now, though Alcina’s soon flicker over to the servant. “Cass. Bad girl,” xe continues, going so far as to shake xer finger disapprovingly. Understandably, you’re rather shocked to see a butler be so bold with someone so dangerous. Even more shocking is the way that Cassandra backs down without a hint of a fight, refusing to meet her mother’s steely gaze, not even pretending that she hadn’t attempted to trick you. Satisfied with this outcome, Caldwell wordlessly fades back into the background.

Although you had almost committed an unwilling act of cannibalism, you managed to slowly relax again, content to listen in on (but not participate in) the conversations around you. ‘Twas somewhat awkward, admittedly, to be the odd one out in a family so close. Yet a part of you had gained a new sense of hope by meeting Caldwell. After all, if a human such as xerself could become so close as to chastise Cassandra of all people, why couldn’t you?

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

“Once again, I would like to… apologize, on behalf of my daughters,” Alcina says, rather softly, still keeping a gentle hand on your back to guide you along. “I must admit, I do not wish to dwell on what might have happened if not for Avaskian.”

“Believe it or not, I think I actually understand where they’re coming from. Though, of course, I am also grateful for Caldwell’s intervention. But really… your family has been together for several decades now, right? Any addition is guaranteed to stir things up,” you respond with a shrug. “Besides, I’m more than aware that I don’t exactly stand at the same level as your other romantic interest.” Suddenly both of you are halting in the middle of the hallway, unable to meet each other’s gaze, regret rumbling like butterflies in your stomach. You hadn’t intended to bring up your soulmate’s somewhat obvious affections for Mother Miranda.

“Hmm. So you are… aware of that,” Alcina murmurs, finally turning her head to look down at you. There’s no small amount of pain in her eyes, though you can tell she’s holding as much of it in as possible. “I would prefer it if we did not speak of this. I do hope you have no qualms with that.” For once, there is no hint of force or commanding edge to her tone. For once, she is letting you act as an equal, the first step towards actually accepting your role as her soulmate. It’s enough to make the corners of your lips turn up, if only for a moment.

“Alcina… I understand. I merely want to say that it won’t affect how I feel, or how I act. Love is a blessing, even when it ends in pain. I… have loved before. People whom I will never see again, people who never felt the same way, and maybe people who I really only thought that I loved. I’m trying to think of those experiences as lessons. Situations that taught me something about myself, or about what love is, that I can keep in mind and use going forward. Just as I promised to your daughters, I will try to love you. I will give you an honest chance, regardless of our past circumstances. Because we’re soulmates. Because this is the world offering us a shot at something amazing, and I’m not about to give that up,” you explain, placing one of your hands in Alcina’s. For a moment there’s silence, but you see both surprise and happiness in her expression. Still, there’s a hint of tension remaining in the air, so you do your best to dispel it. “Also your daughters threatened to kill me if I didn’t, and I’d hate to perish before lasting a full year here. I heard a rumor that one of the senior staff members makes cards to celebrate.”

Next thing you know, you’re hearing a beautiful sound, a light, genuine laugh from Alcina, who all at once releases the tension in her shoulders.

“Yes, I do believe Ava, or Caldwell as you said, still makes those. Always with strange little drawings of felines…” She trails off, voice fading into another chuckle, before at last resuming her walk, never letting go of your hand. “As much as I have enjoyed our chat, I do believe it is about time that I retire for the night. We will see each other once more in the morning. For now, I bid you goodnight. Sleep well, my dear.” With that, the two of you arrive at the entrance to the servants’ quarters, and you find just enough courage to bring her hand to your lips, for a brief kiss.

“Goodnight, Lady Alcina. May your dreams be as sweet as your company.”

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #j has ocs #avaskian caldwell

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remsmoonlight · 4 years ago

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— title : a sweet truth

— word count : 2.1k words

— pairing : john wich x reader

— summary : you get an overwhelming need to share with John how you feel, unable to keep it to yourself anymore, leaving only the good to follow.

— warnings : none, issa soft one

note: my first one shot back and it’s john of course! anyways i need to binge the movies again because this man’s voice was difficult to master this time around, now i will be getting to requests now i have indulged myself oops

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requests are open ! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The dull crackle that runs mindlessly beneath the audio of the radio is the only sound that can be heard illuminating the space of the bedroom where you and John lay contently together. He’d offered to repair the object, or even buy another but you refused stubbornly — remarking that it gives it a certain endearing charm. You had joked that it reminds you of him. In the sense that while it has a flaw, it was able to bring joy and amusement to a person’s life. It’s humbling to know that even the John Wick was human, that he had his flaws despite being difficult to witness them in the flesh.

It took a lot for John to bare the darkest and most damaged parts of his conscience. He couldn’t go another day where his mind leapt endlessly to conclusions, his mind conjuring haunting images of your departing body that would eventually come to pass — to him, it was inevitable. He fully convinced himself he was hallucinating when you had not retreated in fear, with the look of disgust cosying up to your reflection, but the opposite. He is still a man greatly feared by a whole world beneath yours, yet you still gaze upon him with nothing but warmth.

You will your mind to focus on the words from the small object, yet it’s the heat that is emitting from his body in waves that prevent you from fully taking in what is being said, its presence doing more to provide white noise than entertainment. The minor glint in your gaze turns upwards to drag your sight across the body that half lays on top of you.

Like vines, to be found in a twist of limbs that would be almost difficult to distinguish what belongs to who is a common occurrence, the sense of shielded from the scorching realities that the world bares boldly is an addicting concoction that you can only find with him. Your heart swells tenfold at the mere thought of him and being here in such a simple way that holds so much affection just for two people.

“ What ? “

The suddenness of his voice lifts you from your thoughts that run their own race, a shy lift of your lips can be seen twirling gracefully in response.

“ Nothing, I’m just thinking. “

“ Thinking? “ he asks you, a light hint of laughter gently coating the question with a feather-like touch. “ Are you trying to scare me? “

Eyes widen in response to what he says, a heavy burst of air plummeting to the soft mattress below the two of you. “ Don’t be so rude! “ A short chuckle trails behind your reply, secretly loving the cheeky side of his personality coming out to peek out.

You’ve realised that he has a warmth whenever you’re together, but even still he maintains an air of such seriousness you’re surprised he has not collapsed under the pressure of holding such a wall up with his bare hands, these moments are the kind that you paint mentally — a still of this moment in a thousand shades of gold. Upon your first meeting of his, you’d never associate that with him, with how intimidating and stone faced he was, it would be a honeyed lie if someone would have described him in such a way but here he is. Not a honeyed lie but a sweet tasting truth that you never want to be without again.

“ I’m sorry. “ he apologises as the amusement in his tones still very much present that would aim to refer to him as a hypocrite, but it’s not spoken with vitriol, his words directed towards you rarely contain any harshness. “ Tell me, I’m curious. “

It’s a minor debate that dances with only itself, zig zagging with a biro pen that creates a mess of lines converging at multiple points to create a tangle plot point that should not be as complicated as it’s being made out. Neither of you have muttered the L word, not even under your breath in passing and the one dominating emotion you can feel overwhelming your body entirely is incredibly close to it.. but is it too soon? Even as a description? It’s a fear you can feel tickling your neck from behind, whispering stained words of discouragement, but if you have learnt anything, it’s that hiding your feelings will be worse off in the long run. Never can a human being strive for the euphoria of authentic happiness clutched in their fist when they lock away their thoughts and their desires in a box to gather age and dust — leaving behind a hollow shell of what could have been had it the opportunity to bud and grow.

“ Well.. “ you begin, your sight lowering to meet the sight of his neck, unable to look him in the eyes fully and you approach the topic. “ I was thinking about you. “

“ Yeah? “

“ I’m just.. happy. More than I thought I could be and it’s you I have to thank. “ Your shoulders shrug as best they can from your position laying down on the bed.

“ I think I should be the one saying that. “ he replies softly, his words ringing truer than they could ever be realised to be as he leans down to leave behind a ghost of a peck behind your ear. It’s an action that is short and sweet.

Never did John imagine himself being rewarded for being the architect in more tragedies and more horrors than he could ever recall. Though, he soon realised your presence was rather the opposite, a ticket to a greener field void of bloodied bargains and death, and should he keep you in his life that would be an opportunity he would not let pass him by in a sea of missed chances left to drown due to his lack of motivation. He gazes upon you fondly in affection, a hand reaching up to draw mindless circles in the back of your hair, memories of his last bargain to leave his previous life playing before him as if an old gritty movie.

“ Stop it, John. I haven’t done a thing! “ your nose wrinkles as you refute what he says with a bashful glint that explodes in your gaze. After all the time you’d spent together and you still refuse to see yourself in the way John has painted you in —

“ You’ve done more for me than you realise. “

It feels like yesterday you shared your first kiss, fondly remembering how you’d mentally remarked that it’s so unfair that what is between you should be so perfect, a cruel joke were it not to work out. Though your heart is full of gratitude when you still tell yourself that not a worry should be had, your need for a physical reminder as you move your hand to his clothed back — bringing him closer as if to burn a permanent reminder into your fingertips.

“ I guess that’s why we compliment each other so well, huh? “

A wispy sigh plummets, your thoughts and emotions mixing more and more into a blend of intensity as you fully realise just how much you have fallen and adore the man who shares your bed. It has been such a long time you have had these emotions to this degree rouse from, what has felt like, an endless slumber. Yes, there had been a few who had caught your eye, but compared to the substance that has been created and nurtured from you both, they had nothing more than a water drop in a boundless and enduring sea. It’s a hope of yours that you don’t look foolish before him, getting so emotional over something like this, you scold yourself mentally — trying to pull yourself together before you completely crumble.

“ What’s wrong? “

“ It’s nothing, really. “ you shake your head, accompanying the almost denial. You want to let everything in your heart free, but the question is how to without scaring him off. There’s not much that can scare him, but you’d rather not throw a spanner in the flawless equation.

“ You don’t have to tell me, but it might help if you do. “ John lends a soothing weight in your hand as he interlocks your fingers together, leaving the choice completely up to you, refusing to force you to share something that is so personal to you. “ it’s your call. “

“ It’s nothing crazy.. “

The side of John’s brain that has been hardwired to jump to every scenario imaginable — good and bad, is running rampant. Itching to be prepared so nothing is able to disrupt the perfect day dream of a life that had only been made available through television shows and movies, now that he has it, every day he promises to never let it be ruined. Nothing good can ever occur from ripping away the first drop of water that touches a person starved of it for days, only a troublesome path of anger can walk that path on its twisted and turned limbs.

“ I think it’s time that I tell you how I feel, “ you state, your lips almost devouring your lips by how hard they bite them, a lost thought of how you have not drawn a drop of blood seeping into irrelevancy. “ how I really feel. “

“ Right? “

For the first time, John is completely unable to get a read of you. The apprehension that is emitting off you in strong waves is not something that comforts him fully, though the fact that you speak not from anger and have opted to stay in your current position as opposed to fleeing is the only source of relief he can continue to draw energy from. Curiosity is the only thing that dominates his mind, wanting desperately to hear the next part of your statement.

In his silence, your brows furrow purely from your own thoughts. Mainly in the wonder of how you can approach this while sounding as if you have capacity and are not obsessed with him as some are with their idols. You know that would be something that would probably scare him off. Your fingertips lay a random beat on the top of his hand, you nestle closer to him as to make yourself comfortable — this does feel like the right time. Should it not? You remind yourself that it is part of a plan that the universe has for you, that it is part of a bigger picture you are not allowed to know until the final moment.

“ I just, “ you pause, blinking as you gather your thoughts and your words further. “ It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything remotely close to this. “

Your words are like a cozy kiss goodnight before two lovers depart until the next time they see each other, a warmth that slowly grows in his heart overspills at the sentiment you individually wrap with each word you speak. He can’t help but tip his head ever so slightly, to take in every detail on your features — in his mind, nothing is more so perfect than this moment.

“ What I’m trying to say is, and you don’t have to say anything — “ the rambling leaves your lips so effortlessly, as if to savour the last few moments of normally before the inevitable confession. “ I can’t help but realise how much I am in love with you. “

His eyes widen instantaneously as his features follow suit, his lips part in surprise. With how your speech had begun, it should not have come as a surprise, yet to hear it from your lips is as pleasant as the final summer’s day, surrounded by warmth and an impenetrable energy that shields you from any harm that would befall you. He’d lived the life of a haunting ghost story that it soon became a belief that he was a monster, to hear you in this moment recite something so real is something that is difficult for him to wrap his head around. Maybe he isn’t a monster that has made its peace with the darkness, that there is more for him as a person.

The emptiness is soon replaced by a soft weight on your lips, he has leans down to join you — unable to fight the desire to savour the taste of him as you often do when you kiss. It’s a fight you have not yet one, and it’s a fight you imagine you would prefer losing. Time is no longer a concept, you’re too wrapped up in the concept turned reality that is John Wick, only are you able to concentrate on the burning that his free hand leaves as they slide up and down your waist. If this is a dream, neither of you want to awaken.

“ Who says I’m not feeling the same as you? “

#John Wick imagine #John Wick x reader #john wick oneshot #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction

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overthinkingtaleblr · 2 years ago

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I’m in the Midst of finals and am way too busy to do anything really fun unfortunately, but I might make Stardust Sprinkleshine a permanent host for story idea reasons—

Basically my thoughts on the unicorns in general goes that Stardust is like an acting ‘Guardian’ toward the gun that allows Unicorns to do inter-dimensional travel, right? Like, because of Prince Fang and his cross-dimensional conquest, they basically shoved themselves between time and space in a pocket dimension with only a few means to really escape placed in several dimensions. Usually I would try to cut the ties to the unicorns and real history entirely, but if my current semester has taught me anything it’s that sometimes things are misnamed based on assumptions of association. If I had to guess why the means to summon them is associated with the Aztecs, it probably has to do with the Unicorns first arriving in the 1st Dimension at around the same time as the Conquistadors, and since they had literally just fled their home dimension to escape a conquest, they were inclined to help the native population, thus getting a connection drawn between the groups.

Since the idea of the Aztecs learning how to make things float on their own sounds really cool, I’m gonna say that they did learn that independently and the floating stuff was all them. Congrats on the ability to make things float. Either the Aztecs, another group of people, or the unicorns themselves tied the pocket dimension to the floating gun, and the rest is history. Adopting the nature of the unicorns, the gun is sporadic and seemingly tends to appear in multiple places at once, or move around. I think it’s easily assumed to be random, but it likely likes staying at places where people die. Unicorns might drink blood. Who knows. If a person or creature touches the gun, it will be possessed by a unicorn, and if a unicorn touches it, they’ll go back. This means that no unicorn can wield the gun or vice-versa since maintained contact is dangerous and nigh-impossible to achieve. Stardust can operate as a Hivemind, but only because they’re acting as the portal’s guardian. Skittles summoning Stardust Sprinkleshine specifically is likely bc it’s made of a material Stardust themself is related to, and is one of the ways that they grow a hivemind to work with, since you can only be summoned by the floating gun once before going back.

Unlike other creatures in this universe I’m working with, both unicorns and dragons don’t have any association to any other “major factions”, like the Acachallas, Darth Calculus, PIE, or the Housekeeper. Then again, most 13th Dimension creatures don’t, but the unicorns aren’t 13th dimension so they wouldn’t know the Nadachalla family either. The closest I have is Stardust knowing Chakalata (modern day) and his associates (Poppy and Goober being the main ones) since the floating gun positions itself in their workplace a lot and even if the main family does not feel a draw to it (Goober is the exception), others do, so they kind of just try to hide it from sight in the back of the kitchen (they fail sometimes). I think this Stardust Sprinkleshine, the one living around the Chakalata family, being a permanent host by consequence of them finding a way to prevent anyone from accessing the gun makes sense. Also gives them people to interact with. Maybe they can help in the kitchen instead of just being a disturbance lol—

I think that’s all i have for now I’m mostly just writing it down so I don’t forget it later.

#taleblr #stardust Sprinkleshine #taleblr headcanons

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codylabs · 4 years ago

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Knight Sabers!

But redesigned to use technology from my universe!

Apparently my universe has infinitely-sharp swords and razor wire now!

ABSOLUTELY UNREASONABLY DETAILED breakdown below cut!

Okay, so by 'redesign' I mean essentially just repainting the Class-5 Berserker Frame from my own universe. The C-5 was already fully interchangeable from the elbows and ankles down, and has hardpoints for specialized equipment on the knees, shoulders, and helmet, so this little exercise was as simple as researching cool weapons, then pausing and screenshotting the anime to get the colors right, because I'm naturally garbage at colors and prefer to trust a computer.

Bubblegum Crisis was a big inspiration for the C-5 in the first place, especially on the character-customizable side, so this was a blast.

For info on the C-5's general mechanical design, including what those ankles are for and how the operator gets in and out, go to the original post where I designed it, linked above.

Anyway, I gave each character the weapons and tools that either best match their original loadout, or best match their needs and fighting style if the originals were deemed unrealistic. All together, their equipment is suitable for taking out heavily-armored, slower-moving targets in urban environments, while maintaining a short-range tactical network within the squad.

In order of protaganosity,

Priss, the blue one:

Equipped for close-quarters combat. The large clamps are much stronger and better suited for grappling and crushing than the ordinary waldoes, but their musculature system doesn't leave any room in the gauntlets for integrated machine guns like Nene and Linna have. The claws do have a couple fingers that can unfold off their tops, so she isn't completely incapable of fine dexterity.

Each gauntlet externally mounts a short-barrelled 30mm-calliber cannon, which fires high-powered tungsten-carbide discarding-sabot kinetic perpetrators. The short barrel makes these inaccurate at range, but the high speed, high mass, and low cross section of the rounds make them ideal for piercing armor from mid-range or close range. These replace the weird glowing spears that she shoots in the show. They are essentially just non-glowing spears that travel a lot faster and are MUCH louder. Each magazine holds 6.

Knees are each mounted with a single-use high-explosive anti-tank shaped charge designed to blast a gap in an armor plate, then release another blast through the gap, in a two-stage detonation. Vents in the knee plate prevent armor or operator from being damaged by the kick-back, though the knee plate itself is often destroyed.

Priss being the most reckless and close-quarters combatant of the bunch, her helmet is largest and most tanky; it contain extra padding and armor against blunt force impacts, a minimized sensor suite consisting of a pair of night-vision-capable armored cameras, and the non-retractable variety of communications antennae, and an external speaker so she can yell at cops or something.

She elected against armored skirt plating on the grounds that it looked girly, which leaves a vulnerability in the upper thighs, where a large area of light joint ribbing is exposed. Shouldn't be a huge issue as long as she stays too close for machine guns to target. As you may guess, Priss gets hurt a lot, and no redesign will change that.

Sylia, the silver (mint?) one

Equipped for precision strikes and rapid movement. Her gauntlets, aside from the standard waldos, prominently feature a pair of short swords. Their blades contain neutron-froth graphene, a highly expensive material over 10,000 times stronger than steel, and only 2,000 times as heavy; it only exists in a very thin strip on the leading edge, but is hard enough to maintain a monomolecular sharpness. The rest of the gauntlets are occupied by the muscle systems needed to swing and align the sword, and the pumping system needed to maintain the cold temperature needed to stabilize the neutron froth, and so she doesn't carry machine guns either.

Externally mounts the same kinetic perpetrator launchers as Priss, but with 3-round magazines instead of 6, both to save on weight, and because she doesn't use them nearly as liberally.

Knees and shoulders contain compact gravity dynamos for increased maneuverability. On extended discharge they can allow for limited flight, and on fast discharge can provide a powerful "boost" in any direction, vastly increasing the ability to strike, retreat, strafe, or jump. I know gravity dynamos are pretty out-of-left-field, but they're a thing in my universe ever since exotic mass was discovered on planet Hephaestus.

Sylia's helmet is fairly standard, with comm antennae that can retract during maneuvers, and a sensor suite that can be swapped out depending on mission specifics or how fabulous she feels like being.

Not quite sold on her paint job here. Anyway,

Nene, the pink one

Equipped for fire support and electronic warfare. Gauntlets contain the standard waldo and machine gun loadout, as well as extra feelers and data ports for interfacing with computer systems. I don't know why I drew a little screen folding out of the gauntlet, that doesn't make a lot of sense when you have a HUD, but it looked nice. Speaking of looking nice, the shoulder joints of the C-5 suit actually cannot physically bend into the position that Nene's arms are in right here. So that's some disappointing.

The suit mounts no heavy weapons, but is accompanied by a pair of gravity-propelled escort drones. They normally act in a strictly observational role, but can ram and self destruct with a high-powered shaped charge if needed, which is nice.

The suit is meant to serve as the nerve center of the knights' tactical network. A large suite of antennae extend the range of its comm systems, allowing it to connect with friendly systems at distance, as well as listen in on enemy signals, or jam them completely. A powerful onboard computer handles decryption and data processing from enemy signals.

Those knee pads are smoke grenade and flare launchers. It seemed like a nice thing to have.

Helmet speaks for itself. It contains a vast sensor suite, allowing her to see in perfect dark, use infrared thermal imaging, 'hear' electrical activity, measure radiation sources, and even detect trace chemicals in the air and stream in 4k until Sylia told her to stop.

The first drones were named Sneezy and Sleepy, these two are Happy and doc. Whenever one gets destroyed she names its replacement after the next dwarf. Someday she'll run out of dwarves and will have to resort to pacman ghosts or bionicles.

Linna, the green one

Equipped for high-powered, hit-or-miss type attacks, and high mobility. Linna is their most nimble and physically intuitive operator, so they have her be first to try out any exotic or experimental equipment. If it's any use, she would be the one best suited to find that use, and if not, she would be best suited to get out of dodge.

Gauntlets, as mounted here, are a standard waldo/machine gun unit on her left, and high-explosive anti-tank ram on the right, which uses the same 'rounds' as Priss's knees. Her right gauntlet is the only arm on any of the four to completely lack fingers, so that's amusing. Maybe I could fit a little claw or something but I forgot.

Knees and shoulders mount gravity dynamos for extra mobility, same as Sylia. To decrease weight and increase bodily control, she went so far as to forgo the armored skirt, same as Priss did.

And of course the fancy whip things. They're composed of the same neutron-froth graphene as Sylia's swords, but in the form of micron-diameter razor wire, which would be able to slice through light armor in broader strokes and greater range than a sword. At such a tiny thickness even NFG wears through quickly, so the suit contains spools to replenish it. Although I drew the wires as black lines here, they would be thinner than a human hair, and quite nearly invisible in person, so it would be down to the operator's skill and intuition to keep track of where they actually are, and to keep from getting hurt by them. Speaking of, in the show the whips come out of her HELMET, which (although I appreciate the Sailor Moon pigtail aesthetic) makes absolutely zero sense, would be nearly uncontrollable, hard to swing with any power, and, more to the point, absurdly dangerous. Mounting these whips externally on the gauntlets seemed more effective and responsible. They can roll up and retract when not in use.

So yeaah

This was done as a request for @mechanicalinertia I think, but not actually, because I wanted to draw it too anyway, they just reminded me.

#bubblegum crisis #redesign #request #sylia stingray #nene romanova #linna yamazaki #priss asagiri #power armor #scifi #hardsuits

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whentheynameyoujoy · 4 years ago

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So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

youtube

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

#atla #atla movie #zutara #anti bryke #dev patel #the last airbender #anti-kataang

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helenazbmrskai · 5 years ago

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Not Alone

Title Not Alone

Pairing Yoongi x OC

Summary University is kicking your ass so you always make sure to dedicate a day for yourself and take time to pamper your body and soul. However, you’re cautious around Yoongi your roommate and double-check the d-day to prevent accidents. You're not a fan of revealing any skin because of your insecurities but it’s just happening to be the day when you are - not so alone.

Genre university au, roommate au, romance and fluff, smut

Warning(s) smut (body worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, messy sex, first time, virgin reader, dirty talk, vanilla sex, yoongi has a virgin kink but not explicitly mentioned) implication of insecure reader, shy and curvy reader

Word count: 9k

Masterlist

This universe is related to my other fic I wrote recently ’one time boy space friend’ you can read that one here.

Washing the excess shaving cream off of my hand I grab my phone I previously placed on the toilet’s folded lid lightly humming the outline of the song currently playing. The new playlist Yoongi recommended is full of bangers as always I have no doubt his fate was eventually to end up as a music major. I take a glance at my reflection when I was able to secure the new position for my phone on the laundry basket with the top slightly open reminding me that I need to do laundry if I want to have clothes to wear.

I take a glance at my reflection removing the fog that made the lines of my face blurry with a towel hanging next to the sink on a hook realising later that I used Yoongi’s looking back at the sheepish smile that greets me in the mirror I placed the fabric back hoping that Yoongi won’t mind.

An unknown rap song’s first beats suddenly interrupted by an incoming call that the familiar piano version of my favourite song signalled. I smile seeing the callers ID, placing the toner back to its dust-filled spot next to Yoongi’s shaving cream I make sure to use the right towel this time to dry my hands with before swiping right on the call.

”Hey, What’s the matter?” I answer it with a huge grin plastered on my face making my cheeks ride up into a chipmunk-like smile.

Our class was cancelled at the last minute so I wasn’t expecting a call from her she told me while we were waiting for the instructor to arrive that she has plans with his boyfriend Jimin. Only having calculus that day after an exchanged heated curses for our lazy professor for not e-mailing about the reschedule I happily took a sweet nap and made an easy breakfast I normally don’t have time to consume or even make in the morning I was able to get my relaxing time to start earlier so it meant more time for me since Yoongi supposedly took the afternoon shift.

This piece of information I remembered while chewing on my sandwich as I thanked the gods that I overheard his conversation about the shift change last night when I went to get my late-night snack but seeing the date expired on the comfort food I had to engage in a yoghurt instead.

”Y/N. Are you home?” She asked matching my good mood in the background I heard clinking noises of a pan she must be cooking. I insert my head through the large black t-shirt’s hole as I started to freeze standing here only in my undergarments the effect of the hot shower faded leaving me in the significantly colder bathroom.

”Of course. I started my pamper routine. I cannot tell you how good it feels to be hairless. If only my hair would grow this fast.” She chuckles hearing my banter the faint sounds of crepitation usually the hot oil makes overpowering her giggle for a few seconds. I remember the sandwich I ate this morning around ten-ish that did not prove to be enough. I get sidetracked with what should I make for lunch.

”Oh, so Yoongi is working?” Knowing about my only one rule regarding this d-day I like to call it is that no man should be around when I’m wearing this revealing clothing. He only saw me wearing jeans and yoga pants before these jelly-like legs cannot make a debut in front of eyes outside of mine.

”Yep.” I confirm. I take a look at the time I still have lots of time to relax before I should start that assignment I postponed.

I have everything planned out since Yoongi usually comes home from work in a grumpy state he likes to shower first and then he retreats into his room to do his assignments and sometimes he writes a song or the song even could be the assignment itself I honestly don’t know how’s everyday life as a music major. Yoongi is not exactly the talkative type.

My silent activity is helping his concentration and the best thing is that I have the apartment by myself to do what I please and leave the comfort of my room wearing what I please without worrying.

The best would be if I could rent out my own apartment but I know I wouldn’t be able to pay it by myself and the fact that Yoongi and I share the expenses of the bill makes things so much more easier.

”Why did you call though? I’m sure it’s not because you already miss me.” Tired of holding the phone up I place it back where it was before leaving the call on speakers so I can rub the cocoa scented lotion into the skin on my legs.

”Right. I almost forgot. Jin taught you that Mexican dish that I don’t know how to pronounce its name, right?” Her voice fades a little mid-sentence probably changed ears hearing the cooking noises seeping through the background she seemed very busy.

”What about it?” I question closing the lid of the lotion after I rub the remaining cream on my hand onto my neck so nothing goes to waste.

”I need the recipe.” She demands. I laugh how desperate she sounds through the phone. I make my way out of the bathroom I need my notebook since I didn’t memorise the dish I only made it once and as it was previously stated with the help of Jin.

”Hold on I don’t remember where I left the notes.” I arrive at the kitchen area placing the phone on the counter I begin rummaging through the drawers bending down to peek at the content of each. Spoons and forks. The second one where Yoongi placed the aprons and towels my notebook must be in the last one. ”So, what are the plans for today?” I ask while still searching for the black shiny cover of my notebook.

”Well, I wanted to cook something Italian since Jimin told me once he wanted to try it out but a crucial ingredient is missing so I thought about making that one you told me about a few weeks ago at Jin’s birthday party. After I’m finally done with this shit I’m going to sneak into his room to give him the blowjob of his life while he’s playing some shit games boys do and tell him lunch is ready.” The huge breath she took before starting the word vomiting makes me praise her lung capacity.

Finally. The book was under the aprons what a hassle. I straighten up turning the pages when I hear the front door opening and shut soon after. I turn to see the face of the intruder as I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen with my hair evidently wet from the shower I took earlier only in my panties and a huge ass shirt to cover myself with.

Yoongi drops his coffee-stained shirt by the foot of the couch the angle is letting me see the living room area without a problem but he can’t clearly see the kitchen from there but my relief is not long-lasting as my friend decides to choose that moment to speak drawing Yoongi’s attention to where I’m standing.

”Y/N are you still there? Shit. I burnt my finger.” Grabbing the phone off the counter I switch off the speaker option and push the device against my ear.

”Yeah, um, I’ll send you the recipe via message. Good luck. Bye.” I aggressively push the red phone button at the bottom left side of the screen until the call ends. Hearing my voice Yoongi walks through the door separating the living room and the kitchen to halt his steps when he takes the image in.

It’s not one of those best times to ponder over how good looking he’s after finishing work and how he always smells like freshly brewed coffee which is not a surprise knowing the fact that he works at a coffee shop near our rented place.

He doesn’t wear the shirt uniform it must be the one he got rid of because of the stains today he wears a simple white t-shirt with washed-out blue jeans. Focusing on his face again I see that his eyes no longer studying my face instead his gaze dipped lower and I swear he's not so subtle about ogling at my exposed legs. My legs!

”You’re … early.” I talk first considering my options. A, I can still make a run for it but the damage is already done. He saw me. Or B, I can try to make small talk pretending that nothing is embarrassing at all just to later enter my room and dig a hole with all of my self-pity and scream into my pillow.

”Um, there was a shift change but I finished 2 hours early in return.” He explains this time his gaze was on my face the entire time no more strayed glimpses. Fuck. I should have paid attention to the whole conversation. ”Don’t you .. have class normally this time around?” He trails off a faint trace of blush appears on his porcelain skin. I use the notebook to hide my panty line that peeks out of the shirt.

”Class cancelled.” I’m horrified how my voice sounds so high pitched the embarrassment paints my cheeks bright red. ”Um, I have something to do in my room so I’ll be there.” I use the lame excuse to escape from Yoongi when I close the door behind me I close my eyes as well because of the extreme humiliation I had to go through.

My phone buzzes in hand I suddenly remember the recipe I promised. I write a quick message to her attaching the picture of the ingredients and notes to help her with the preparations. Now since I’m done with the responsibilities I can swim in my tears for the time being.

I can’t believe after months of caution fate decided to take away from me the deserved me time days. Yoongi is probably weirded out by me too I don’t know how to look him in the eye from now on and it’s a serious problem. For lords heaven, we live together! There’s no way I can avoid him without being obvious about it.

I mean maybe I’m just overreacting. It’s Yoongi we are talking about. He most of the time doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything he certainly won’t mention it and for obvious reasons I won’t either so I can just leave things like that. Just acting as usual like he didn’t saw my legs and my black underwear not to mention he is the very first one to see it I mean outside of my family of course. He’s a boy. No. A man. And he saw me underdressed like that.

It’s okay Y/N, let’s see the bright side at least he saw me when I was shaved. Well, that doesn’t help. Not at all.

”Shit. I’m hungry.”

I waited an hour and forty minutes to be exact despite the rumble of my stomach I sat down to start the book one of my friends lent me to read and I’m over a quarter of the pages when I decided enough is enough.

I waited long enough so he must be cooped up in his room slash studio for the rest of the day. But to be extra cautious I peeked out before fully leaving the safety of my room. I stop once I step into the corridor listening for any noises that might indicate Yoongi has indeed occupied his nest the soft sounds of the synthesizer helps me to relax I leisurely make my way then in the direction of the kitchen.

As I flip the switch the room is enveloped in light. My favourite mug is sitting on top of the counter even though I don’t remember leaving it there. I walk to take a closer look the mug is filled with coffee it’s in a light brown colour so it must a latte. It smells like latte indeed.

My favourite drink. There’s a note glued to the bottom of the mug it’s a messy handwriting and I don’t have to guess to know to whom this belongs to. How did he know my favourite coffee order?

”Sorry for startling you earlier. - myg”

The simple worded note even had his initials at the end. Realising that I never tried out his coffee made me curious about the taste. He works as a barista so It cannot be bad. I’m always late for class so I never had the chance before going into the shop when he’s on duty and order a drink from him.

Most of the time I’m saving on it and just use the shared coffee machine. Don’t blame me I’m just a broke university student.

But if I drink this I won’t be able to sleep it’s pretty late. Fuck it. I’m going to drink it. Not that the unholy time for coffee consumption deterred me before and picked up on some of Yoongi’s personal characteristics I think I can confidently say he doesn’t care either.

I bite into my lip while carefully straightening the lines out on the sticky note. After I was convinced the note won’t come off of his door I leave to go to bed.

”Thanks for the coffee. I liked it. – Y/N.”

***

”Can you guys stop shovelling food into your mouths for a millisecond. I’m serious!” Hitting the table for further emphasis.

Rori and F/N digging through a pile of food before our morning class is something I got used to first as I befriended them and it doesn’t bother me any other time but I wanted some serious advice for once and they don’t even stop digging to say well that’s was awkward. Or shit that sucks.

Not that I don’t know that without them telling me. I appreciated the note and the subtle apology he didn’t phrase it like hey dummy I’m sorry for seeing your sausage legs my bad. Also, it would be unlikely, too wordy for him he’s tight-lipped even in messages. I don’t remember he ever told me like a two full sentence in one go.

”Serious for what Y/N? He saw your underwear and legs. Tell us if you display your boobs or something. Now, I would be interested.” Rolling my eyes at the sarcastic remark I steal one of her favourite apple pie sticks for good measures.

”Hey! I was going to eat that.” She pouts but I take another big bite out of it. It’s too sweet for my liking but everything for the even sweeter revenge. If there’s one thing I learned about these two throughout the years of knowing them is that they take their food very seriously. ”Look. We love you, that’s why I’m going to tell you this. It’s not a big deal.” She pats my cheek before picking up her fork again.

”So what happened F/N. Did you gave Jimin the blowjob of his life?” I used a quote mark at the end of the sentence just how she phrased it yesterday. Rori is more interested in that, of course, there’s nothing more important than sex.

”Let me say the food was cold once we were finished.” She chuckled bashfully. Do I have the right set of friends? Maybe I should be pickier about who I call as a friend.

”So he’s big?” Rori asked with a smirk and I almost spitted out the diet coke onto the dining table. We are in a fucking coffee shop for god damn good. Thankfully not the one Yoongi works for but I think he has morning class so he won’t be working either way.

”Please don’t go into details.” I plea and Rori presents me with a devilish grin while picking the chicken breasts out of my salad.

”It’s fine Y/N. I was a virgin too before Jimin. Your time will come, not that it’s a choice.” F/N tries to console me.

”It’s a choice just not mine.” I murmur it under my nose stabbing my salad with the fork before chewing on it without the meat it’s quite sour.

”Yeah. It’s because you and F/N are both have big sticks up your asses.” Used to her blunt remarks I’m not even hurt or surprised for that matter. The busy cafe drowns out the voices of their inappropriate talk at least.

”It’s not our fault that you fuck every man with a pulse.” F/N retorts back with a giggle satisfied with the remark we exchange high fives.

”How do you know it’s a requirement?” Rori lifts one of her brows making us do gagging motions.

”Ugh, That’s disgusting.” I abandon the food on my plate that was a bit too much and we are in the middle of breakfast.

”A person cannot even joke here? I wasn’t serious. Duh.” I should really search for those new friends.

”That’s something I can believe.” The insult wasn’t even spoken out too loud but she heard me all the same and it earned a kick under the table from Rori with his high heels, I returned the glare she sent my way.

***

”Oh, hi.” I step aside to let Yoongi enter, he furrows his brows in concentration if I wasn’t running late I would ponder over the fact how he measures my body by centimetres. I fidget with my earrings but without a mirror, it’s a difficult task to carry out.

”I thought we’re going to meet with the guys at 8.” Realising the motive behind his stare I nod furiously.

”Yeah. But Rori accepted that guy’s offer to taste wines and she’s afraid she’s going to be abducted so me and F/N will accompany her.” I tell him and he doesn’t seem pleased I wasn’t either at first but I hope he won’t do anything with three girls there.

”Be careful. Anyone else knows about this?” He asks with evident worry lacing his voice he steps closer helping to finally get that chape snap into place.

”Jimin knows and I think Jungkook knows too.” Once he’s done he restores the distance between the two of us. ”Also you know F/N she’s apt to be violent.” Yoongi nods.

”Fuck. I’m late.” I swear as I look at the time. With hurried steps, I pick up my boots and size up my keys ready to leave.

”See you later.” Hearing his voice calling out to me I look back smiling a little managing to whisper back a ’see you later’ of my own. I think this was the longest conversation I held with him so far, what a shame I couldn’t stay to talk more.

The wine tasting went better than I expected. That guy is filthy rich he gave us a little tour around the house before letting us each pick out 5 wines of our liking. We learned that he’s a sports major he’s a swimmer and he told us stories about his practises with the swimming team and talked awfully long about his wins and trophies. To be honest he seemed like a bit eccentric and pompous for me but Rori liked him.

We were late because our taxi on its way to the bar got into a little traffic jam. I got a text from Yoongi at the same time F/N got one from Jimin they were curious about where we are and how we are. We wrote back a short text that we’re almost there.

”So? Whose’s the guy?” Jin asked once we are seated down. F/N took her place next to Jimin and Rori beside her leaving me with the only option of sitting down next to Yoongi at the other side of the table.

Once I’m comfortably seated I look around the table I catch in the corner of my eye Namjoon and Jungkook taking shots. Yoongi grabs his alcoholic beverage before him from the table our shoulders brush against each other due to the motion. I bite the inside of my cheeks don’t want to fidget in place.

”He’s a sports major.” Rori told Jin she told him about our little tour but she conveniently left out the offer about a threesome that I politely declined.

”Oh Y/N you remember that guy who wanted to get your phone number?” Scrunching my nose as the scene flashed before my eyes, of course, I remember. That was one of my most awkward moments and believe me when I say there’s a lot of option to choose from on my list and it’s still the worst. As far as I know, that guy was a sports major too and he was very persistent.

”Yes, what about him?” I nod. I try to shoo the pictures out of head but a forming blush creeping up my neck quicker than I realise.

”Well he’s here. And he’s coming this way.” F/N tells without looking my way her eyes trained behind my form probably to report back his every move. I physically have to hold myself back from whimpering and its not the good kind.

”Shit.” I bite my lower lip don’t want to make things more obvious I don’t turn around to confirm it.

”Oh. I remember. You gave him Rori’s number, don’t you?” Jungkook, you traitor. He was with me when it happened I was flustered enough that he asked Jungkook is my boyfriend or not that I didn’t want to expand my suffering so I gave him my friend's number. She told me if someone I don’t want tries to get into my pants and bothers me I can use her number as a bait knowing her even though my pants were not on the line I still did that. Well, she did more than that after.

”Then what’s the problem?” Jin asks so invested in our conversation that I want to smack him on the neck.

”I was sexting with him and we fucked.” She shrugs. That was what I tried to say. I really don’t want to face that guy.

I stand up with so much vehemency that I almost knock down a glass from the table it’s Yoongi’s empty glass at the bottom of it there’s a thin line of whiskey left. Yoongi grabs my thighs to stabilise me. Looking over his shoulder I saw that said guy indeed walking into this direction.

”Uh, please dance with me?” I grab Yoongi’s hand surprising him for a moment or two but lets me pull him up.

”You have a habit of running away, huh?” I look back to get a grip at the situation. I led Yoongi into the dance floor even though I don’t even know how to dance. He sees the panic settling in my face so he starts guiding me with his hand flat against my lower back. There’s a lot of bodies to avoid so Yoongi is extremely close.

”I don’t like confrontation.” I subtly hide behind his broad shoulders I can see it on him how he tries to stop himself from laughing. I like the sound of his laugh.

”I’m aware.” He purrs into my ear pulling me closer by a hand wrapped around my waist the sweet scent of his cologne hits me like a tone of bricks. I’m painfully aware how his body touches mine my breast pushed against his flat ribcage I can feel him inhaling and exhaling the used oxygen.

”Y-your hand Yoongi.” His hand is dangerously low on my back I’m sure he feels the curve of my ass under his fingers. The bar is dimly lit so my blush remains subtle in a certain extent seeing me blush so many times I wouldn’t be surprised if he would recognise it before it fully blooms on my face.

”What about it?” He clearly wants me to say it but there’s no way I’m going to bluntly say that his hand touches my ass. Rather die.

”What are you doing? Are you drunk?” I defensively ask answering the question with my own questions. He openly finds my antics amusing because this time he laughs. That gummy smile makes my knees weak for him he strengthens his hold on my waist like he knows it.

”My car is here. I’m as sober as I can be.” The hand I placed on his chest when he suddenly pulled me closer itched. He’s touching me and he’s sober. Heaving a sigh he replaces them around his neck I can’t relish in the feeling as his hand on my ass beyond doubt gone since he places it back soon after even lower. The grin he shows me makes me want to give him my fist instead of my virginity.

”Then why are you touching me?” My confidence wavered significantly as he lowered his head his lips closer than ever but instead of kissing me, he blows air into my ear riling me up with the gesture.

”This makes you uncomfortable?” I wanted to say yes, but the full truth would be it’s undeniably uncomfortable and exciting it makes my blood boil under my skin and it scares me how much I want him to touch me tossing aside my insecurities just to feel him like this. At least he knows his boundaries. I don’t know what would I do if his hand suddenly moved.

”No. I’m just embarrassed.” I nervously twist a hair at the nape of his neck didn’t realise the act just when I did it.

”You ran away because you were embarrassed yesterday too?” I stop toying with his hair once the words register in my head. Is he talking about the kitchen incident? And here I thought that there’s nothing more that could make the situation more awkward.

”Y-yes.” The confidence I felt before left me I shy away from his eyes the way he sized me up that day still vivid in my head.

”Why?” A perfect arch of his eyebrows indicating that he wants his answer this time and I am about to give him.

”Because you were staring at me.” I tell him oh so matter of factly. He practically beams at the offered answer the glint in his eyes telling me that’s the answer he seeks in the first place and he has his own set of words in return.

”Wanna know what I thought about while staring at you?” His eyes pinning me to my spot I wouldn’t dare to move away even if I wanted to he seemed determined to get under my skin and maybe under my clothes too.

”No.” I challenge drunk by the boldness maybe the gin tonic I consumed earlier and the wines finally appearing be to be the liquid courage I needed. Reading between the lines Yoongi tells me despite the answer.

”I imagined how you would look like wearing my shirt. It would cover you below your knees since you are tiny. Tell me you’re wearing one of those black panties I saw before?” I don’t answer but I let him pat my knee I can feel his warm palm under the fabric of my jeans he continues with more words even bolder than the first.

”I imagined how you would look like under me on my bed wrapping those long legs around my waist.” Affected by his words I mirror his hungry expression. He’s normally not a man of so many words and hearing him talk this much makes me feel special that he’s talking to me because he feels the need to let me know what’s plaguing his mind. I entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t sure how to convey the message since I’m so shy he didn’t have a lot of opportunity cornering me before the kitchen incident. Perhaps it was the undo he needed.

”Tell me Y/N. Do you find me attractive?” His fingers stroke the flesh of my jaw he’s getting confident as I don’t push him away.

”You are attractive.” I tell him honestly and he grins but not in a malice kind of way his grin more like a boyish grin that boys wear after hearing that their high school crush likes them back. The happy kind of grin.

”Have you thought about me too? Like I did.” The next question hits differently it’s not so innocent and I wasn’t in the illusion he is.

”Yes.” Holding onto the boldness I agree.

”Tell me.” He urges. He’s sober I remember. Avoiding his stare I let my shyness getting to the best of me he brushes a strand of hair behind my ears coaxing out the reply. It feels nice to be touched by him.

”It’s embarrassing.”

”I told you mine. You have to tell me your fantasies so I can make them come true.” He trails a finger following the line of my collarbone my outfit leaves literally everything to the imagination the only skin he can feel is on my arms.

”You’re unfair.” I whine the words out Yoongi stops his movements to see the emotions behind my eyes. He seems confused by my conflicted expression. His eyes were always expressive and I loved staring at them. Those rare moments shared, eating together at the weekends letting me hear one of his song he proudly introduces.

”How so?”

I take a deep breath cupping his cheeks. ”You look good with dyed hair but I prefer it black. You look the best when you come home from work all sweaty because the air conditioner still not gotten repaired in your workplace so you always take a shower before doing anything else.” There’s glint catching the light in his orbs watching me closely while I tell him the things I locked away in my memories. He caresses my wrist with a raised hand the other directly resting upon mine as it's his face still trapped between the heels of my palms.

”I like your voice.” I let the words flow out like a river caught up in a thunderstorm. ”I always wanted to know how it would sound like moaning my name. I like your hands too.”

”What about them?” A big smile stretches his face knowing too well he won. I don’t feel the frustration of losing I’d gladly accept this fate again and again if it will give me the same results at the end of this.

”Yoongi.” I whine.

”Did you imagined this? Or this?” His hands leaving their position fondling the flesh on my hip hiding me behind his body he walks a hand up my decolletage.

”Stop, we are in public.” I hiss.

”No one pays attention Y/N. But I’ll gladly take this to the bedroom.” The offer temps me but I remember the boys.

”We can’t. You are the only sober one and the guys need their ride home.” I reason and Yoongi groans in frustration. He forgot about them already. He looks at the booth the others are drinking and laughing.

”If I tell Namjoon to stop drinking he would be sober enough to drive them back.”

I shake my head it would be too dangerous and considering he competed with Jungkook about who can take more shots I bet he’s drunk like a donkey alongside with the younger boy. ”I’m drunk too.” I tell him when he tries to come up with more solution.

”Fine.” Yoongi hugs me close probably to hide his displeased face doesn’t want to sound so desperate maybe he’s embarrassed.

”Don’t be like that. I promise if in the morning when I sobered up you still want to do it I’ll let you.”

He perks up gently pushing me away to look into my eyes. ”Let me do what?”

”Let you take me.”

***

I feel something warm tickling my sides a sudden wave of cold air hits my stomach but the cold soon replaced with a warm and wet feel against my skin. My eyes narrowly open I try to fidget away wrapping my fingers around the comforter when I feel that wet and warm feeling on my thighs.

Hands and tongue. The fog in front of my eyes clears I don’t remember when did I fell asleep or how did I end up here. Where am I? I spot the synthesizer in the corner Yoongi’s synthesizer. Yoongi’s room.

”Yoongi, what .. ah” My voice raspy from sleep the way he rubbed his nose into my neck just to deliver a long kiss to it after halted my question before I was able to voice it out.

”Did I wake you up. My bad.” He smiled into my skin loving the way my heart beats erratically with his every touch, his hand above my breast feeling the movements of it.

”You don’t sound so sorry about it.”

”Do you have a headache?” He caresses the side of my face helping to curl the locks behind my ear that interfered with my vision. The thoughtful gesture made me smile up at his face mirroring his expression of tenderness.

”No I’m good. I didn’t drink that much.” My fingers itch to touch his face maybe it’s because of the dreamy state I’m currently in that I have the confidence in doing so. I brush my hands through his bangs his eyes closing the caress urges a smile he grabs my hands once I’m about to pull away to move it against his mouth giving a small kiss onto my palm before intertwining them with his much larger ones.

I could get used to this. The image of him looking so raw and so vulnerable his eyes puffy with sleep lazy motions of his fingertip exploring my body under the duvet. My shirt is rolled up just below my breasts the shirt’s neck hangs around my shoulder in a loose coverage it smells like Yoongi just like the covers. Looking down I realise it’s not my shirt. It’s his.

”Glad to hear that. I want you to repeat your promise to me.” Yoongi burrows his face into my neck again his hair brushing against my bare skin the hand that’s not holding mine drops under the covers finding my hip guiding me to drape my right leg over his waist facing each other sideways.

”Promise? Can you be more specific?” I boldly move my hand caressing with feather-light touches his side I can feel his bare torso and hips under my fingers he shivers and not because of the cold. He’s shivering because I touched him and he’s not wearing a shirt. The thought crosses my mind that the shirt I’m wearing is the one he did wear the whole day but not now. Every other day I would be embarrassed but I quite liked the idea of wearing his clothes in his bed.

”A tease I see.” He recovered quicker than I would like he gave a quick peck onto my shoulder where his shirt didn’t cover that much skin. He cupped my breast above the fabric of my bra the sudden feel of him squeezing me there I whined a little bit too loudly. I pulled my hand away shielding my face due to embarrassment.

”Yoongi.” I shyly call his name. He let his hand stay there but he remained motionless giving my hands each a kiss just where my eyes would be if I didn’t hide behind my limbs. His hand felt warm against me where my bra wasn’t covering his two fingers rested directly on the skin of my breast.

”Do I have your consent baby?” I gulp my shy personality says no but my body says yes for me.

”You can have anything.” I place my palm against his that lays on my body my eyes still closed but I don’t shield my face anymore. The words came out as whispers even though I wanted him to hear me say it. I wanted him to go on.

”Love. Answer me.” I open my eyes again when I feel his hand leave my boobs to cup my face with it instead.

”You can have me. You can fuck me. Did it answer your question or should I be more specific?” I wet my lips poking my tongue against the inside of my cheeks trying to calm down the rapid movement of my heart my hands shook as I grip his hair moving my mouth against his to not just say but show my consent. I want this. I want him.

”No. I think it was explicit enough, I like seeing you blush.” Hearing him say that makes me blush harder and he gifts me with a gummy smile basking in the responsive reactions. I would be more embarrassed if I wouldn’t feel the sticky substance dampening my underwear.

”Do you have something in mind? A preference? Or can I surprise you.” The way he explicitly asks about my sexual preferences makes him appear hotter a new wave of arousal hits me making me grind my thighs together forgetting that Yoongi’s leg is between them. I know he felt the wetness but doesn’t comment on it he instead pushes his knees further up parting my legs.

”You d-decide.” I moan when his knee brushes against my crotch. He hummed delighted by my answer. Placing back his hand once more squeezing my breasts before undoing the clasps behind my back. He slowly lets the material fall he strictly looks into my eyes not wandering downwards seeking out my every reaction. I gave him a little nod he takes it as the permission he needed he moves the cover so he can take a look.

”So pretty.” He sighs into my skin he turns my body to be flat against the bed the cold sheets meeting with my back goosebumps travelling up my spine. ”So soft.” He mumbles the endless of praises dragging his fingers over a nipple before licking it with his tongue a choked moan leaves my parted lips his hair gently caressing the skin. He circles the nipple with his poked out tongue kneading the other neglected one with his free hand. Mewls and sighs, in turn, filling the room trying to keep my voice quiet but it’s hard since the only thing I can concentrate on is his mouth on me and his hands those long fingers as he drags them down on my body a finger slides under the waistband of my panty he stretches the material out before letting it snap back into place. The uncomfortable feeling of it sticking to my folds gets frustrating by every passing minute.

”You smell good.” His raspy voice helps me return from my sudden astonishment I scrape his scalp with my long nails as I weave my fingers through his hair he lets out a low growl my skin covering up the noise the vibration he sends up my body by it makes me tighten my legs around his waist my underwear covered cunt pressed against his firm chest forces a not so silent whine out.

”It’s m-my lotion.” I reply absentmindedly. He hums into my collarbone not sure my answer registered truly in his brain I feel him taking a big inhale before pulling away he pushes himself up with the help of his hands planted beside my head looking with heavily lidded eyes taking in my hazed eyes and swollen lips before connecting our mouths. I almost forgot how good of a kisser Yoongi is.

The light touch against my inner thigh makes my hip jolt up in surprise Yoongi’s eager mouth swallows all the sounds and whimpers. ”Relax.” He purrs aiming for my hips soothing circles into my skin. I take a few deep breaths Yoongi waits patiently for me to calm down a little the way his eyes sizing me up like I’m some kind of goddess eases some of my nerves. Once he’s positive I’m not going to run away he lets his palm touch me the barrier that’s my underwear stays in place as he drags his fingers directly onto my heat. I feel it throb under his ministrations having confidence after a few moans I let out he gets bolder using more pressure to dip between my folds the underwear’s silky touch lets him move smoothly. ”Can I feel it? I want to make sure you’re wet enough before I do anything else.” Nodding even before the question was fully out I anticipate a laugh or something to tease me about my eagerness. I don’t think I wanted someone this bad before to touch me. But he doesn’t laugh he seems as eager as I feel. He slides a finger under the damp material but he retreats too soon. ”Please, can I take it off?” To persuade me further if his plea wasn’t enough he rubs his fingers where my clit is over my panty. The plea was enough but I’m not complaining. I manage to signal him with a breathy yes. Don’t have to tell him twice he slides the ruined material down my legs his big warm hands gripping my inner thighs preventing my legs from closing before he can take a look.

”Look at that. So pink and swollen for me.” Previously he was careful with every move waiting for approval before doing anything bold but like he’s lost all the continence in him Yoongi drags two fingers up my folds coating his fingers with my arousal letting just the tip of his fingers penetrating just to pull back. I let out the loudest moan blushing as I realise just how loud I sounded but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, not at all. He wanted to coax more of those sounds as he bent down parting the lips with his tongue letting out his own moans while tasting me and if it’s even possible at this point I feel more turned on than ever.

”Warm too. Sorry, my love, my hands are a little cold but I hope you don’t mind.” He finally slips a finger in my eyes slightly open he watches me with a grin loving the way I squirm wanting it chuckles deep and I don’t mind at all. The stretch his one digit means feels familiar reminding me when I was chasing relief on my own but his fingers are so so much better longer and thicker. I can’t wait to feel the second one.

”I want to make you cum on my tongue.” Delivering a kittenish lick sucking on my clit for the demonstration before he goes on. ”Just to bring you another orgasm with my fingers.” Yoongi curls the one finger in me rubbing it into my throbbing walls ”Lastly let you cum around my cock.” He throws his head back moaning sinfully just thinking he’s about to make everything he said come true. ”You deserve at least three orgasms but I shouldn’t be greedy your virgin cunt can’t handle three.” He eases another finger in this time the stretch is a bit more uncomfortable.

”Let’s start with two.” He says settled with the idea he places a wet kiss onto my hip before finding my abused clit again sucking and rolling it around his tongue my walls contacts around his two digits I feel the sticky substance coating my inner thighs and dripping onto the sheets the mess, the way Yoongi’s hair tickle my thighs, the way he moves his fingers inside me, the pleasure gets overwhelming something starts to build up promising a relief I never had the chance of feeling before.

”Yoongi fuck, Yoongi” His name spills from my mouth and it seems to encourage him to be faster.

”It’s fine.” He tells before sucking harshly on my clit. ”Cum for me.” The proud grin he forms still buried between my legs and the vibration of his hum makes my legs shake I let my head fall back into the pillows closing my eyes until I see literal stars.

He stops lapping my juices once I’m finished the proud smile still plastered on his face licking his lips capturing the remaining of my pleasure. He looks so hot. I never knew I’m capable of coming this hard.

”Good?” Placing a kiss onto my nose he caresses my arms I didn’t realise I was grabbing onto the sheets this tight I let Yoongi place my hands onto his shoulder blades he moves to get between my legs once more.

Instead of answering, I can’t help but impatiently point out. ”You’re still wearing clothes.” I grab his hips pulling on his sweatpants playfully.

”Wanna take it off?” He asks smirking. I roll my eyes at his cockiness not that he’s all talk when it comes to his skills but he has more ego than he can manage and I’m not going to increase it for him.

”So what? Don’t tell me you are not eager even more than me to bury your dick into my virgin pussy.” His eyes grow bigger for a split second before it regains its original state, so he can be startled too. I’m surprised by my boldness, but god, it’s worth it seeing him so fucked up by those words.

”You’re playing a dangerous game Y/N. I need my self-control right now.” Something shifted in his eyes he looks like he’s about to devour me. Yoongi shifts onto his knees to get rid of the final barriers between us. I close my eyes my shyness returns too soon but Yoongi doesn’t mind it I open my eyes again as he positions myself above me placing a firm kiss onto my lips he senses I’m anxious.

”Do you trust me?” Seeing the open vulnerability in his shiny orbs, not entirely clouded by lust makes my head swim with a lot of suppressed emotion. I feel the urge to smile lifting my head from the pillows beneath me I give him a peck.

”Of course I am.” I kinda like you. I bite into my lips before the next sentence could slip through we’ll talk about this another time. Right, the only thing I want to focus on is Yoongi. Only Yoongi. His tip brushes against my stomach, shit, I haven’t seen how big he is. His lip pressed to mine swallows the tiny moan leaving my lips as he pushes the first inch inside parting my walls in a painful stretch. Fuck. He’s big.

”Tight.” Yoongi moans, more in pleasure than I am currently in but it’s ok. He made me cum I want to see him cum too. ”Relax for me angel I won’t hurt you I promise.” Relishing in the way he caresses my side I try to relax my body he pushes another inch in slowly his tip must be fully buried by now.

”That’s right. You’re doing so well.” He praises his eyebrows knit together in concentration he’s holding himself back because of me. Touched by the gesture I move my hip to meet his advances he slips in deeper than he intended his groan significantly louder by the sudden pleasure.

”Does it hurt?” He pulls himself together to keep the eye contact he caresses the skin under my eye I nod before answering.

”A little.”

”Let’s try a few more thrusts if it still hurts after that I’ll stop and eat you out again. Shit. Maybe I should have made you cum again for the extra lubrication.” Yoongi regretfully gazes at my face.

”It’s fine. Just go slow.” I say the burning is bearable I’m getting used to the feeling slowly but not sure if I can cum again.

”My baby is so tight.” I’m definitely a sucker for those pet names. It helps me focus on his words instead of his slow thrusts. ”I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Feeling you wrapped around me a dream come true.” I experimentally squeeze around him and he lets out a loud moan his head nestled into my neck groaning and moaning between filthy words his pace got quicker but I don’t stop him even though it’s not feeling as good as him eating me out. I want to please him though and by the sounds, he seems very pleased.

”Are you alright?” He stops after hearing a louder whiny moan on my part but I don’t let him I circle my hips in place dragging out moans from him but he forces himself to reset his previous slower pace. I’m not having any of it. I want him to cum and want it soon.

”Yoongi” I whine out his name an idea foggily forming at the back of my head. ”Yoongi, I wanna ride you.”

”Are y-you sure?” He stills inside of me waiting for the confirmation and I nod inviting him into a kiss that turns slopy by time. I feel his hands grabbing at my waist to change position this way he sinks in deeper.

Holy shit it feels so much better.

”Fuck. Do you like this?” He grips my hips dragging his cock touching every sensitive part in me as my walls swallow his shaft he pulls me up just to let me sink down with a needy moan I’m starting to feel the appeal.

”Yes. I-ah-think.” I can almost picture the way my eyes roll back behind my skull right now. What was I saying? ”Go faster.” I choke out and Yoongi with a following set of groans obligates I’m too far gone to pay attention to how Yoongi watches with hungry eyes that I ruin the bedsheets.

”I like that you are so messy.” He places a stray hair behind my ears our chests pressed together so he can thrust up faster and harder. Yoongi holds me in place taking control the way his eyes shuts involuntarily and his member twitching inside of me signals that he’s close.

He’s breathtakingly beautiful as he reaches his high he’s so lost in the pleasure my walls provide so tight around him that he doesn’t have the mind to kiss me back so I just press them together for a minute longer. My legs ache because of the exercise but I let him use me to ride out his high the pretty sounds and satisfied look he gives me once seated firmly inside me with our mixed cum spilling out he looks down where our body connects rubbing the skin of my hip lovingly while watching me ruin his sheets. He likes that I’m messy.

”I hope you like me back because I don’t think I could fuck anyone else from now on.” I end up in a pit of laughter leaning my head on his shoulder he feels my body shake with the motion Yoongi whines in overstimulation when I accidentally squeeze his spent member. I peck the skin where my head previously rested before searching for Yoongi’s eyes.

”I do like you back.” I admit it shyly even though there’s nothing to be shy about his dick is still inside for fuck’s sake.

”Glad to hear that.” His grin returns faster than the speed of light. ”I thought I fucked your brains out when you suddenly started laughing. I was concerned for a minute.” I try to hit his shoulder but he’s faster grabbing my hand by the wrist and gives the flesh an attentive kiss the gesture is sweet and melts my heart.

”How are you feeling?” It’s cute how he seeks my reassurance. He lets me move away careful when pulling out so I can finally take the previous position lying down.

”Hm, sore but good. I just need .. some time. I don’t think I can stand up just yet.” I offer my honest reply burying my nose into the duvet that got tossed aside. He leaves the room making me confused but once he’s back with a towel in hand I pierce two and two together. It’s his towel. The thought is enough to make me blush furiously.

”Spread your legs for me.” I take the request as an order shyly spreading my legs so he can clean me up. ”There. All cleaned up.” The bed squeaks under the weight of his one knee pushing me further into the sheets. Yoongi bows down to kiss me his tongue teases my lips as we kiss asking for permission that I eagerly permit.

#btsghostie #yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts university au #bts roommates au

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quickspinner · 4 years ago

Text

I’ve Got You

Hi @ladycat1! Your original secret santa had some life happen, so here’s a gift from me to tide you over until they can post your fic! I chose the soulmate prompt and I uh, got a little carried away. I hope you enjoy it!

This was supposed to be a sprint fic, 3 15 minute sprints and 45 minutes to edit, but it took me 4 sprints to finish even the main idea and then there wasn’t enough Luka so I went back and added more, and now it’s kind of a beast compared to what it was supposed to be. So, I failed the challenge, but hey, more fic, so still a win!

She’d dreamed for so long about what her soulmate would be like. Some of her friends had silly words scribed over their hearts, things that made no sense and probably wouldn’t until they met their person. Some of them had commonplace phrases like “Hey, watch it!” or “Hi, how can I help you today?” Some of them were borderline insulting. Alix’s words were “Hey, out of my way!” Marinette wasn’t sure she would have been able to feel good about something like that, but Alix didn’t seem bothered by it. “At least our meeting won’t be boring,” she pointed out.

Still. Marinette liked her own words better, far better, than any others that had been shared with her. Easy, easy, I’ve got you.

They sounded...comforting. Supportive. Warm. She couldn’t think, even with all her natural paranoia, of any way those words could be bad. Maybe she was making too much of it, maybe it was only a little thing. Still, she liked the thought that the first time she met her soulmate, they would be helping her, even if only in a small way.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be breathless, but not from hitting the pavement at blinding speed. She was supposed to be disoriented, but not because she had been tossed across half the city by an akuma. She wasn’t supposed to be cold and wet and frightened, and most of all, she wasn’t supposed to be Ladybug.

But she was, and he’d grabbed her, and when she struck out at him in fear and confusion, he’d caught her hand, and his lips moved, and her chest burned, and the words hidden beneath her suit suddenly felt etched on her skin in fire.

The arms that cradled her were strong, the hand that wiped the mud off her face was gentle, and the blue eyes staring down at her were as concerned as she could ever have wished for, but—it was all wrong.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his hand moving to her chin and tilting her face so that he could look into her eyes.

She was supposed to answer him. Whatever she said to him in this moment was supposed to be etched over his heart, and she would say it, and he would feel that same—not fire, because it didn’t hurt, not exactly, but that flaring that would tell him that this was no random chance, that she was his soulmate.

But she couldn’t. She stared dumbly up at him, her throat seizing up in panic even as she clamped her lips tight. It couldn’t happen like this. It couldn’t be like this. She couldn’t say his words, whatever they were, while she was Ladybug. It would ruin everything. It would make things impossible between them. If anyone found out he was Ladybug’s soulmate , then—he’d be in so much danger. They couldn’t see each other, they couldn’t be together, they couldn’t become whatever they were meant to be because...because she was Ladybug, and Ladybug couldn’t afford that kind of weakness.

“Ladybug?” He frowned, and his hand moved again, brushing her hair back.

She shook her head violently and pushed at his shoulders. He let go of her, and she scrambled back, getting to her feet shakily. Her eyes darted around, taking in details—the bike discarded on the ground behind him, the color—colors, of his hair, the studs in his ears, his clothes, she had to remember all of this—

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked worriedly.

Ladybug nodded furiously, and staggered a few more steps away, whipping out her yoyo. The words on her chest burned hotter as she swung away, and then subsided into a tingling kind of numbness. Ladybug blinked back tears and shook her head. She had an akuma to defeat, and then she could worry about what she’d done.

She barely stayed long enough for their usual fistbump once the battle was over. She found the first secluded place she could think of, transformed, and ran.

Marinette knew it was useless even as she pelted down the wet streets, her light flats getting soaked as she sloshed through puddle after puddle. It would take a miracle for him to still be there by the time she could get there, but wasn’t meeting your soulmate a miracle in itself? It could happen! She had luck on her side, right?

Tikki hadn’t said anything about Marinette’s mad flight, just huddled down in Marinette’s purse with her cookie. Marinette mentally apologized for bouncing her around so badly, especially after such a tough fight, but...she had to try.

But when she skidded to a stop on the corner, there was no one there. The sun was going down and the streetlight shone only on wet, empty pavement. Her soulmate was gone, and so was his bike...and she’d have to find him all over again.

If she could. Her throat tightened, making it even harder to catch her breath, as it occurred to her that she had no idea what happened when soulmates met and didn’t complete the bond. Would it be as if she had rejected him? Would the cosmic pull that was destined to someday bring them together just...cease? When she met him again, would the words she said still resonate with him, or would it all be ruined because she had held back? Were the words on his heart the ones that she should have said, but didn’t?

Marinette didn’t know. She’d never heard of anything like this happening before. Sometimes people rejected their soulmates, or chose to live apart from them, but...but the exchange still happened. The bond was still there. They were still complete.

And Marinette...was not. The hole her soulmate was meant to fill was still there, and she felt all the more conscious of it now.

Remember , she told herself as she walked home in the dark and the cold. Remember his face. Remember his eyes, and his hands, so large against her face. Remember his clothes, his hair. Remember.

She had to remember. Because she was going to find him again.

And then...then she’d just have to see what happened from there. She’d have to make a plan. Marinette was good at plans. Marinette was good at doing the impossible. She was going to find her soulmate again, and she was going to fix this, and the universe was just going to have to suck it up.

One hand drifted up to grip her upper arm, over where his hand had rested as he’d lifted her from the street. She smiled to herself, just a little bit. She’d been right, after all. He was helping her. Supporting her. Even though she was a stranger to him. Even though she was Ladybug, and she was supposed to do things on her own, and even though it was dangerous for him to get involved while she was in the middle of an akuma fight. If Chat hadn’t been able to keep the akuma busy...

He was brave, she realized. Brave, and kind, and strong, and gentle.

Marinette had to stop herself before she got too far down that train of thought. It wouldn’t do to build him into something superhuman. That wouldn’t be fair. She wanted to know the real him, and not be blinded by a dream of who she thought he might be. She’d learned that lesson once before, after all.

Once she was dry and warm and Tikki properly ensconced in a cozy nest of blankets, Marinette sat down at her table and began to draw. She couldn’t afford to forget anything. She was going to find him again, whether the universe decided to help her out or not.

***

Luka Couffaine didn’t have a soulmate.

At least, that’s what the rumors said. There was no soulmark over his heart, and that seemed to be the only conclusion people could come to.

Luka had never been bothered by it, in all truth. He himself was well aware that there were many ways to communicate that didn’t involve words, though it never seemed to occur to anyone else. Privately he thought it entirely likely that his soulmate was a fellow musician, and that their first exchange might involve something far more expressive than mere words. Or maybe not; maybe it would be in the touch of their hands, or the meeting of their eyes. Maybe they would just know, and stand looking at each other in wonder. Maybe his soulmate had a physical issue that would prevent them from speaking. From time to time he watched video tutorials to learn signs that might be useful if it were so.

Mostly, though, he just went on with life, and didn’t worry about it too hard. He was young, and there was plenty of living to be done even without a soulmate. The rumors irritated him far more than the idea that he might have been born a whole soul in a single body.

He’d lived for seventeen years that way, and neither expected nor especially wished for a change, until he picked up an extra shift on a delivery route he didn’t usually ride, and the city’s beloved superhero crashed through a planter and faceplanted on the street in front of him.

Luka wasn’t even thinking when he shoved off his helmet and ran to her, dropping his bike on the sidewalk. After a slide like that, she should have been shredded, but when he helped her roll over and sit up, her skin was whole, though smeared with muddy water. She flailed at him blindly and he almost dropped her, startled by her strength when her hand hit his chest.

“Easy, easy,” Luka told her, catching that hand, “I’ve got you.” She stilled—froze, almost, and her expression was still dazed. No wonder, after a hit like that. Luka wiped away a smear of mud under her eye, but she didn’t move, just pressed her lips tight and stared at him. She was so pale.

“Are you hurt?” Luka put his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up so that he could see her eyes. They were even and seemed to be dilating normally. Where was Chat, he wondered with a sudden, irrational irritation. Sounds of battle in the distance answered him. At least Chat was keeping the thing busy, then, while Ladybug...recovered?

She was still just staring up at him, and he frowned, brushing her hair back to check for a bump or a bruise. “Ladybug?”

She shook her head and pushed at his shoulders, and he let her go, watching as she stumbled to her feet, his hands still hovering uncertainly in the air as he watched her. He...didn’t want her to go, and that didn’t make any sense because of course she had to go. It’s not right, he realized suddenly. t’s not right that she has to do all of this—why should it be her? She can barely stand and she’s about to run back into the fight.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, fighting the urge to take hold of her again.

She nodded, and before he could say anything else she was swinging back to the battle. He actually ran a few steps after her before his brain caught up with his body. What was he doing?

Luka turned and went slowly back to his bike. His chest felt funny where she’d hit him before he caught her hands. She didn’t say a word, he thought, turning and looking back towards where she’d gone.

His sigh of relief was more fervent than usual when the magical ladybugs swept through the city, and over Luka. She would be okay now, he was sure. Luka was most of the way home, having walked his bike as he found himself lost in a swirl of thoughts that didn’t want to condense into any kind of sense. Luka looked down on himself in amusement, his hand smoothing over the place on his chest that had been smeared with mud from her hand. His shirt was clean, now. He glanced up. “You didn’t have to bother,” he murmured. “But...thanks.”

It wasn’t until he was getting ready for bed that night that he saw it. It was just a chance glance as he was walking out of the bathroom, halfway through pulling on a fresh shirt. He saw something in the mirror and turned to look at it instinctively. His jaw dropped, and he leaned towards the mirror, wiping away the fog with his hand to get a clearer look.

There were words on his chest, right over his heart, in the distinctive silver-grey of a soulmate marking.

***

Determination, Marinette thought tiredly, could really only get you so far. She’d done her best but, she just had so little to go on. She knew what he looked like, but it wasn’t like she could mentally beam his image into the internet and find his address.

Well. Maybe she could have if she asked Max and Markov for help, but...how would she explain that? How could she explain that she’d met her soulmate, she’d known it was him, but somehow she’d managed not to find out who he was. How ridiculous did that sound? No, she couldn’t tell anybody or ask anybody for help. She tried to console herself with reminders of how unlikely it was that any of her friends knew him anyway...but it really didn’t make the problem any less frustrating.

She found herself circling back to that same cross street where she’d met him. It was the only lead Marinette had, but there wasn’t much there. It was a residential street, so maybe he lived here, but she couldn’t exactly go knocking on doors telling people that she was looking for her soulmate. If he did live here, surely she’d see him, right?

Feeling a bit like a stalker, she parked herself on a bench the following Saturday with her sketchbook in her lap, watching the people that passed her on the street and any figures visible in the windows of the houses. All she got was a sunburn and some odd looks from a couple of people who passed her both in the morning and the evening as they went out to walk their dogs. She went home and lay on her bed moaning in frustration and embarrassment as Tikki sympathetically applied aloe to her face with little pats.

“It’ll be okay, Marinette,” the little god told her, but Tikki had already admitted that her powers were entirely separate from the mystery of soulbonds, and she couldn’t really help Marinette beyond lending a little ordinary luck.

Nobody knew better than Marinette that the surest way to sabotage luck was to count on it, though, so she carried on as she otherwise would. Marinette pulled out her sketch, and stared at the face again. Okay, so maybe he didn’t live at that intersection. Maybe he lived further down, or something like that, and this place was on his route home.

It took a little ingenuity and closer to an outright lie than she was really comfortable with, but Marinette managed to get out of school early and go back to the intersection. He couldn’t be that much older than she was; possibly he passed this place on his way home from school or a part time job.

That didn’t work out any better than the last attempt, and Marinette was sure at least one person had recognized her from her last visit. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to be having a very awkward conversation with Officer Roger, she was sure. At least she remembered to wear sunscreen this time.

Still determined, Marinette drew up an elaborate schedule, gridding out the most likely dates and times to catch him coming through. She plotted bike routes along the area from several local schools and the types of businesses that hired student-age part-timers. She changed up her style and her dress so that she wasn’t so recognizable.

Nearly a month later, she still had nothing. Her friends had long ago begun questioning her bizarre behavior, and more than one had been dragged along on Marinette’s expeditions with increasingly weak excuses, and now her parents were starting to ask questions. Marinette wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up, and...she wasn’t sure how much good it would do anyway. She’d covered almost every possibility—certainly every likely possibility, and most of the less likely options, too. Marinette didn’t want to admit it, but she was running out of ideas.

***

Luka kept his new mark hidden from everyone, even his family. He wasn’t sure what had happened to put it there, and he had no idea how to explain it. He kept thinking that it had to have something to do with that encounter with Ladybug, but…

Luka knew very little about whatever mystical force was behind the soul bonds, but he knew even less about Ladybug and her powers. And if it was her, did it happen when she touched him? Her hand had been splayed across his chest right there. He remembered it feeling weird, but he thought that had been because she hit him. She was strong, after all and might have—probably had?—magic that enhanced her fighting somehow, so it wasn’t surprising that a hit to the chest from her might sting a little bit. Though it hadn’t hurt, exactly, but then he hadn’t really been paying attention.

Or was it the magic of the ladybugs? Was there something wrong with him after all, that they had repaired when they cleaned his shirt? Or did it have nothing to do with her powers at all, and it really was just coincidence? He hadn’t been looking at himself all day. He was pretty sure it hadn’t been there at gym class—surely one of his nosy classmates would have noticed, since they frequently snuck glances at his unmarked chest the same way they would if he had a third nipple or some other anatomical anomaly, but it could easily have appeared any time after that. Luka couldn’t imagine what could have triggered such a thing, though.

Unless he had maybe...not met his soulmate, surely that would be unmistakable from everything he’d heard, but...gotten near her somehow? Passed her or touched her or looked at her without knowing. Luka was usually an observant guy, but when he got in his head, he didn’t always register exactly what was going on around him. Maybe he had had an encounter like that, that he didn’t notice or remember, and the universe was frustrated with him and decided to give him a hand.

That didn’t really make sense either, though.

Luka knew he couldn’t keep this a secret forever, no matter how much he wanted to, but he was going to do his best. Some discretion and a little tattoo coverup should do it. It just...felt private, those words, and he found he was self-conscious about it in a way that he hadn’t been about his unmarked chest. Luka wondered how people could go around letting something like that show all the time.

More than that, he wondered what he should do about it.

Although, he considered, as he stared into his bathroom mirror again...looking at his words, maybe he wouldn’t need to do anything.

***

Marinette stood there on that same corner, again, fighting back tears of frustration, staring at the spot where his bike had fallen when he met her. Was it even his bike? She’d thought it had been, but maybe it wasn’t. Her memories of that night were worn with frequent handling and she was starting to question everything she thought she’d seen that night. Marinette knew it had happened—the words on her chest that had once been grey and dull were a vibrant blue, so she couldn’t have imagined the whole thing...but she was starting to feel doubtful on the details.

This isn’t fair, she thought furiously at the universe. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Maybe I messed up, but I had good reasons! You’d think I’d earned a second chance, with all I’ve been through! Marinette blinked back frustrated tears and turned abruptly away, knuckles white on the straps of her pink backpack, eyes squeezed shut against the tears, so that she didn’t see the bike parked on the street in front of the steps of the townhome she was about to pass.

***

Luka hated this route and avoided it whenever he could, but today he didn’t have a choice if he wanted to work. It was hilly and the cobblestones were uneven, taking most of the pleasure out of the ride itself, and to top it off, the people who usually ordered from here were rude. The irritation on top of his confusion about his soulmate...situation, which had lasted for a month now with no signs of resolution, made him impatient to be done and shorter than usual with the customers, though he managed not to be completely rude.

He was clattering his way down the steps when he collided with something—shit, with someone. Luka grabbed at her as she pitched sideways from the force of the impact, trying to at least keep the petite woman from hitting the pavement due to his stupidity.

Marinette was caught completely off guard. A wordless screech escaped her and she pushed away on reflex as hands grabbed at her, but she was off balance and her feet were tangled and she was going to fall—

“Easy, easy, I’ve got you,” said a voice that sounded like an echo out of her memory, except it was real and loud in her ear and so startling that she stopped struggling. The stranger who had, apparently, both collided with her and stopped her fall had an arm looped around her waist, and he gently pulled her upright. She found her feet as she looked up at him and his hands moved to her upper arms in a familiar grip. Marinette’s heart was pounding in her ears.

He was wearing a bright yellow bike helmet, but she could see the dark, blue-tipped hair sticking out from under it, and the expression of concern, the gentleness in the blue eyes, were all exactly the same. “I’m so sorry, I was thinking about something else and I didn’t see you. Are you all right?”

Marinette looked up at him, still speechless. He frowned. “You’re crying,” he said, his voice full of compassion. “Is everything all right? Do you need help?”

Marinette shook her head slightly, her mouth moving silently. Say something! she screamed inside her mind, but she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know the right answer, and this wasn’t a test she could afford to fail. Some distant part of her mind noted that she hadn’t gotten the details wrong at all. His sharp chin, the line of his jaw, the—

Say something!

“I’ve been looking for you,” she blurted, and then covered her mouth with her hand. Whatever she was supposed to say, surely it wasn’t—

But his eyes had gone wide, and his hand left her arm to clutch his shirt over his heart, and he was breathing faster. Marinette couldn’t help the smile that burst across her face. “I found you,” she said softly.

It was...such a strange feeling, some detached part of Luka’s brain observed. Like he’d lived his whole life in that brief moment of expectant silence right before the curtain rose and the music burst forth, only he’d never known it until now. He felt dizzy with the sudden rush, the burning on his chest barely registering.

He kind of wanted to smack himself for ever thinking he’d been whole before.

Without thinking, he pulled her close and held her tight against him. “I wasn’t even sure you existed,” Luka mumbled wonderingly into her hair. Slowly, Marinette put her shaking arms around him. Once she had, she couldn’t make herself let go; her hands fisted tight on the back of his shirt and she pressed her face close. “I didn’t have any words,” he whispered, so low he would have been inaudible. “Until...something happened, a few weeks ago. I didn’t have any words, and then one day I did, and...you know what I mean, don’t you? What happened to me? You have to know. It was you, wasn’t it?”

Marinette froze. “I—” She couldn’t go on, mind whirling with all the reasons she shouldn’t tell him, shouldn’t admit it, and with all the reasons she should, until she was paralyzed.

Luka realized he was being an idiot. He had no right to that knowledge. Soulmate or not, they had just met, she didn’t know anything about him, and he’d just put her on the spot for what must have been a closely held secret. How many times had he seen her on the news, pleading with the public not to put her family and friends in danger by trying to discover her identity.

“Never mind,” he said quickly. “It’s not important. I have words now, and you said them, and…what’s your name? I don’t even know your name.” He laughed a little shakily. “This whole thing is so crazy.”

“Marinette,” she gasped, pulling away enough to look at him. “My name is Marinette.”

“Marinette,” he said, and smiled. It sounded like music when he said it, somehow. “Nice to meet you, Marinette. I’m Luka. I’m…” What was the right thing to say in this situation? “I’m really looking forward to knowing you.”

Marinette was blinking back tears again. “Me too. But can we just...can we stay like this a little bit longer?”

“Yeah,” Luka said, pulling her back in. “Yeah. But…” He grinned, nuzzling his face into her hair. “Only a minute,” he chuckled, “and then I really need to get your number, because I’m working right now and I’ll be late to my next delivery.”

“Delivery,” Marinette repeated giddily. “You make deliveries.” There was a hysterical edge to her laughter.

“I was doing my last delivery of the night when—the night the words showed up,” Luka told her. “This is the first time I’ve been back on this route since...I can’t believe I met you here.”

Marinette dissolved into definitely hysterical laughter, that had Luka holding her tightly, murmuring words of concern she didn’t quite catch. When she had herself under control again, she pushed him back lightly, and rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. That simple little touch brought heat to his cheeks. “Give me your phone,” she told him as she came back down, her own smile growing at the grin he was clearly fighting to contain. “I’m not losing you again.”

They traded phones quickly, and entered their information, both grinning like idiots. She was really cute, Luka thought, stealing glances at her as he typed. He caught her sneaking a look at him too and they both grinned sheepishly at each other, giggling as they went back to what they were supposed to be doing. Their eyes met again as they passed their phones back and impulsively, Luka caught Marinette’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “I have to go,” he said with a sigh, though he was still smiling—couldn’t seem to stop, in fact. “I’ll text you tonight?”

Marinette nodded. “Be careful,” she told him, and immediately felt stupid, because of course he’d been doing this for far longer than she’d known him and he presumably knew what he was doing. “I mean...well, I know you know what you’re doing, but still. Be safe. I just found you.”

Luka smiled as he stepped past her, letting her hand slide reluctantly out of his. “Don’t worry, I’ll get home in one piece,” he promised. He kicked up the stand of the bike before slinging his leg over it. “I’ve got you now, and I’m not letting you go.” He gave her a wink, and then pushed off, though he nearly made his promise a lie as he looked back at her and almost collided with a streetlight. It was almost worth the embarrassment to hear Marinette’s giggle floating after him, though. He grinned to himself, putting one hand over his heart.

I’ve been looking for you.

He was so glad she hadn’t given up on him.

Marinette covered another giggle with her hand, and started on her own way home, giddy with relief and tense with anticipation. She put her hand over her heart, over the words there that felt like they were faintly pulsing, though she wasn’t sure if that was true or if it was just the way her heart was pounding. She looked down at her purse to see Tikki peeking up at her, clapping her little flipper paws excitedly.

Maybe Marinette couldn’t tell him just yet, but...maybe the universe knew what it was doing after all. Maybe it was good that they ml this way. She didn’t have to tell him, and they could pretend he didn’t know, but…

I’ve got you.

It felt good to know that someone did.

#quickspins #lbsc sprint fic challenge #lbsc secret santa #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #ml fics #promptfic #quicksprints

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agerefandom · 4 years ago

Text

system/REGRESS.Steven

Fandom: Steven Universe

Characters: Big sister Amethyst, regressor!Steven, Spinel, Pearl, Ruby, Sapphire

Words: 3,100

Summary: Slight AU of the Steven Universe Movie: What if the rejuevenator worked on Steven, sending him into a regressed state that he can’t get out of? Amethyst dodges the hit and becomes the one who has to bring everyone together.

Warnings: Lots of swearing from Amethyst’s internal dialogue. Canon-typical violence. Involuntary regression. Conditioned subservience (rebooted Pearl). Mentions of diapers and accidents.

This fight is a shitshow. The strange gem, who Amethyst has nicknamed ‘Pigtails,’ moves like no one she’s fought before. Pigtails’ form can warp to absorb their attacks and dodge their blows: Amethyst hasn’t even managed to uncoil her whip, she’s so busy running after their opponent as she bounces across the grass from one Crystal Gem to the next.

Pigtails lands a solid hit on Steven, sending him sprawling, and then her body begins to stretch. Amethyst runs after the stranger as she wraps herself around the lighthouse. She isn’t afraid of this weirdo, not as long as her friends are beside her.

“No!” Steven yells from behind them, and Amethyst realizes Pigtails’ plan the moment before she releases the tension in her body and ricochets back towards them, her scythe a blur of light as she spins it.

Thanks to Steven’s warning, Amethyst manages to dive out of the way. The others aren’t as lucky, and Amethyst hears herself cry out as Pearl and Garnet’s forms are dissolved, their gems dropping to the ground with a sound that Amethyst never wants to hear again.

That’s no standard weapon, if it took two Crystal Gems out in one hit. It must be older gem tech, from the war. Amethyst rolls to her feet, finally unfurling her whip, but Pigtails doesn’t even spare her a glance as she makes for Steven with the glowing scythe raised above her head.

Steven gets to his feet, summoning his shield and meeting the stranger halfway. Her weapon slices through Steven’s defense and passes right through Steven’s body. Lines of sparking energy start to cross Steven’s skin where the blade has touched him, and now Amethyst is sure that it’s gem tech. She’s seen Steven take hits like this before, made to dissolve gem’s corporeal forms.

“Who are you?” Steven yells, catching the gem’s arms as she tries another swipe. “Why are you doing this?”

“You should know!” screams the stranger, pulling free and bringing her blade up for a wild strike.

Seeing Pigtails unbalanced, Amethyst moves. Her whip wraps around the handle of the scythe and pulls it from the stranger’s hands. It spins through the air, a blur of crackling energy, and Amethyst manages to pull it from the air without touching the blade.

Pigtails spins around, her shifting pupils setting on Amethyst with absolute hatred. “You,” she hisses.

Amethyst runs forward, stolen weapon in one hand. Pigtails tenses and looks around for an escape, but Steven wraps his arms around her middle and holds her tight. Snarling, the gem stretches her arms towards Amethyst, but she manages to slide underneath the gloved hands and comes up swinging, the blade slicing neatly through Pigtails’ stomach above Steven’s arms.

The gem’s eyes widen, and her arms retract back to her sides. For a moment, she stares into Amethyst’s eyes, and then her form dissipates and the gem falls to the ground.

“Pearl! Garnet!” Steven calls, stepping over the pink gem and bolting for the place where they fell. Amethyst watches him run, the remaining lines of the weapon’s energy slowly fading from his arms. He’s limping slightly, one hand over his gem as he runs up the hill. He’s hurt.

After a moment of confusion, Amethyst finds a switch on the side of the scythe and sighs in relief when it folds back into itself and stops glowing. She tucks it into her gem for later and follows Steven up the hill to their discorporated friends.

Steven is holding Pearl when she reaches him, crying hard enough that his shoulders are shaking.

“Steven, it’s okay.” Amethyst puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “They’ve just been forced into their gems. They’ll be back soon. That thing was probably some kind of destabilizer.”

“Sorry.” Steven wipes his eyes. “I- I can’t stop crying. I don’t know why.” He makes a pained sound, and Amethyst watches him double over, Pearl toppling to the grass as both hands go to his stomach. A crackling pink energy expands from his gem and then recedes again.

“Steven!” Amethyst kneels down, and he falls against her. She catches him easily enough, peering over his shoulder to see what’s happening. The familiar lines of gem-tech are still coursing through his gem, fluctuating with crackling white light. Shit. This is bad: that isn’t what destabilizers usually do to Steven. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“M’sorry,” Steven sobs, curling into himself. “I can’t- I’m-” The words break into tears, the kind of wails that Amethyst only hears when Steven is regressing.

“It’s okay,” Amethyst says, in what she hopes is a soothing voice. “It’s okay, kiddo, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.” Steven reaches out for her, and Amethyst tugs him into her lap, rubbing circles on his back. “You’re okay,” she repeats, trying to sound calm as her eyes scour the grass for Ruby and Sapphire. She sees both of them, whole and unharmed, and she relaxes slightly.

She hasn’t seen Steven regress on the battlefield: he usually manages to make it back to the beach house. But Steven hasn’t seen the other gems discorporated in a while. It makes sense that it was a trigger. Or maybe the ongoing pain from the scythe has an impact: Amethyst can still see the lines in his gem. Usually, pain prevents Steven from regressing, but maybe this is the opposite? Ugh, she wishes one of the others was here. She’s good at being a babysitter, but she thinks of herself as more of a playmate than a real caregiver. Big sister material. She’s good with the diapers and the feeding and all that, but she’s never been great at figuring out what Steven needs or wants when he’s like this.

“Okay, kiddo, can you sit here for me?” Amethyst asks, patting Steven’s shoulders. “I’ve got to get our friends.”

“Nnnn!” Steven wraps his hand in Amethyst’s shirt and pulls. It’s a feeble yank, but enough to let Amethyst know that she’s not going anywhere without a fuss.

“Alright,” she says grimly. “I can do this.”

Amethyst scoops Pearl up from the ground, ready to stick the gem in her waistband. It’s not ideal, but it’s not like Amethyst has any pockets. She can usually carry anything she needs in her gem, but it would be a horrible violation to stick Pearl in there.

Just as Amethyst shifts to put Pearl in a safe place, though, the gem starts glowing.

Back already? Amethyst obligingly places her gem on the grass, scooting backwards with Steven in her arms to give Pearl the space to reform.

Sure enough, her gem lifts into the air, and a shape takes form in the light… a shimmering oyster.

Huh. Amethyst blinks up at it. That’s weird.

“Please, identify yourself,” a voice says. It does and does not sound like Pearl.

“Amethyst?” says Amethyst, who isn’t entirely sure what else to do. Is this some new defense mechanism? She’s seen Pearl reform a dozen times, and it’s never been like this.

“Greetings, Amethyst,” says the voice. “Please state customization options.”

“I- what? Just be Pearl!” Amethyst says, keeping one arm around Steven. He’s stopped crying, at least, and is staring up at the glowing oyster with curious eyes.

“Default setting selected. Please stand by.”

What the fuck is happening?? Amethyst asks herself, unwilling to swear while Steven is regressed next to her.

The shimmering shape around Pearl’s gem drifts towards the ground, and glows brighter. Finally, a familiar body begins to emerge, and Amethyst relaxes.

“P’rl!” Steven babbles excitedly, clapping his hands.

The light solidifies, and Pearl steps onto the grass. She’s wearing a dress that Amethyst has never seen on her, knee-length and made with soft pink gauze. She glances around the hill before her eyes land on Amethyst, and widen.

Immediately, she drops to one knee, bending her head low enough that her hair nearly brushes the grass.

“My Amethyst,” she says. “Thank you for bringing me into the world. I am at your eternal service, as your new Pearl.”

There is a ringing silence.

“What the fuck, Pearl?” Amethyst manages, forgetting about the baby beside her for a moment. “Is this your idea of a joke?”

“A joke, my Amethyst? I can tell one if you’d like,” Pearl says, bringing her eyes up to meet Amethyst’s. “I seek only to bring you pleasure.”

Right. Amethyst gets to her feet, pulling Steven up with her. Steven stumbles, clumsy in his regression, and Amethyst steadies him with an arm around his waist. “This isn’t funny, Pearl. Steven is hurt. Can you tell what’s wrong with him?”

“I can try,” Pearl says, and gets to her feet. She drifts over to Steven, her little slippers hardly touching the grass. Everything about her is unfamiliar, wrong. The way her hands are clasped in front of her, shoulders down, her eyes flickering to Amethyst and then back to the ground. It’s all a show of subservience, and it makes Amethyst’s skin crawl. This isn’t a joke. This is something else.

Pearl begins inspecting Steven, pulling up his shirt to peer at his gem and then running her hands over his arms. She seems curious, pressing her fingers into his shoulders and looking surprised at the feeling of his skin.

“What is this ‘Steven,’ my Amethyst? He seems to be partially organic.” Her face crinkles slightly as she looks at Steven’s tear-stained face. “And… leaking.” She produces a handkerchief from her gem and swiftly cleans Steven’s face, dropping the handkerchief to the ground with a dainty flick of the wrist. “There, that’s better.”

Okay, Amethyst thinks. It’s still Pearl, somehow.

“Don’t you remember Steven?” Amethyst asks, drawing closer to Pearl. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Remember?” Pearl echoes, sounding confused. “I have no memory, my Amethyst. You created me. I have extensive databanks on gem etiquette, of course, and a working understanding of the systems of economy, conquest, gem production, and anything else you may need me to assist in organizing.” She lifts Steven into the air and turns him over, checking him at all angles. “However, there is no ‘Steven’ in my databanks.”

“He’s half-human,” Amethyst sighs. “He needs a caregiver.”

“It that why you brought me into the world? To care for this ‘Steven’?” Pearl asks, putting Steven back on his feet. Steven is giggling a little from being spun around, clearly a bit dizzy.

“I… yeah.” Amethyst nods. “Take care of Steven. He needs a diaper, and a pacifier, and….” None of this will be in her databanks, she realizes. Shit. “Just keep an eye on him for now. He’s… fragile. Don’t let him run off a cliff or anything. Hold his hand.”

Pearl nods and immediately takes a firm hold of Steven’s left hand. “Yes, my Amethyst. I will ensure the Steven isn’t harmed.”

“That’s- good. Thanks, Pearl,” Amethyst manages. Now that Steven isn’t crying every time she runs off, she can make sure Ruby and Sapphire are safe.

The moment that she takes a step towards them, though, she sees Ruby rise into the air and reform. It’s always strange to see Ruby and Sapphire apart, especially after a discorporation of their fusion.

“Are you alright?” Amethyst asks, running up to hug Ruby. It’s weird to have her arms around a gem who’s shorter than her: even Steven is taller than Amethyst, these days.

“What are you doing??” Ruby shouts, squirming against Amethyst’s grip. Amethyst immediately lets go of her, stepping back.

“Sorry! I was just worried.” She rubs her hand on the back of her neck, embarrassed by her over-reaction. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ruby says, and then salutes. “Where’s my assignment?”

“Your… assignment? You mean Sapphire?” Shit, they’ve ALL lost their memories! Amethyst realizes. What the hell was that thing?

As if summoned by her name, Sapphire emerges from her gem with a soft sigh, shielding her eye against the light of the sun.

“Hey, Sapphire,” Amethyst says with a wave. “Do you remember anything?”

“I don’t,” says Sapphire serenely, and Amethyst’s chest aches. Sometimes it sucks to be right. “But I’m sure that you and I will be good friends.” She reaches out to touch Amethyst’s elbow, and Amethyst damn near starts tearing up. Okay. None of her friends remember her, but… at least Sapphire is friendly. Not that Pearl wasn’t friendly, but…. Yikes. That was a whole other kettle of fish.

“Yeah.” Amethyst pats Sapphire’s hand. “We will be. It’s good to see you.”

“My Sapphire!” Ruby salutes again, this time in Sapphire’s direction. “As my sworn duty and sole purpose, I promise to protect you with my life.”

“I know you will,” Sapphire says. “That’s why I predict you won’t last more than a day.”

“Huh?” Ruby tilts her head to one side.

“What?” Amethyst echoes.

“My Amethyst!” Pearl’s voice echoes. “I’ve found another gem!”

“Oh, shit!” Amethyst takes off running. She forgot to bubble the enemy gem once she’d been discorporated! How could she be so stupid? Her eyes find Pearl and Steven, with Pearl still firmly holding Steven’s hand. In Steven’s other hand is the heart-shaped gem of the stranger.

“Steven! Drop that!” Amethyst yells.

Steven’s eyes go wide and he drops the gem onto the grass. It’s too late, Amethyst can see it starting to glow.

“Get him away from here, Pearl! Go stand with the others,” she commands, trying not to feel like she’s taking advantage of Pearl’s… bonding or whatever the hell happened. Pearl scoops Steven into her arms and runs off to Ruby and Sapphire with admirable speed.

Sure enough, the gem rises into the air and begins to form. It slowly rotates, as if it can’t decide which way to form, but eventually settles point-down. Wasn’t that different from before?

Two arms stretch out of the glow and over Amethyst’s head. She pulls out her whip, grimacing but determined to protect the others as much as she can. Already, she knows it’s hopeless. The gem isn’t even fully formed and she’s already arcing over Amethyst’s head towards the others.

“Look out!” Amethyst yells, and the strange gem latches onto Steven with a distinctly squeaky noise.

“I’m so excited to meet you!” the gem shrieks happily, wrapping her arms around Steven several times.

“A Spinel!” Pearl gasps. “Aren’t you the lucky one, Steven?”

“Sp’nel?” Steven repeats, poking one of the hands that’s latched onto his shoulder. It makes a squeaking sound again, and Steven giggles.

“That’s me!” Suddenly, Spinel is moving again, spinning in front of the group with a wide smile. She looks different, Amethyst realizes. Her hair, her gem, even her eyes are different. “I’m your new best friend!”

“Fwend!!!” Steven babbles, reaching out for her. Spinel immediately goes to his side, booping his nose and then petting his hair with a wide-eyed curiosity.

“You’re so soft!” Spinel says approvingly. “I love it!” She hooks her arm into Steven’s, since his other hand is still held by Pearl, as instructed. She glances around at the other gems. “Hi, everyone! Is this a party or what?”

“What the hell is going on?” Amethyst wonders out loud. Spinel must have also lost her memory, so obviously it was a function of the gem tech scythe she’d brought. Speaking of gem tech…. She turns her eyes back to the spaceship Spinel had arrived on. There are bubbles rising in the bubblegum-coloured liquid, the drill churning as it pumps it into the earth. That’s probably not good.

“Do you wanna go play?” she hears Spinel asking the others.

“Steven is very fragile,” Pearl says. “He needs to hold my hand.”

Okay. Amethyst puts one hand on her chin and tries to think. No memories, no friends, one big weird spacething.

Her eyes drift to Little Homeworld on the horizon. Oh, duh! Bismuth might be able to identify this gem weapon, that’s her specialty. And Peridot can probably figure out the controls of this spaceship.

“Okay, guys!” Amethyst says, turning back to them. Ruby is standing in front of Sapphire, eyeing the other gems suspiciously, but the rest of them turn their attention to Amethyst when she speaks. She walks towards them, tucking her whip away. Spinel doesn’t seem to be violent, although she is currently clinging to Steven like a backpack or an affectionate barnacle. Both of them are grinning. “We’re going to take a trip on the warp. Everybody, follow me! Pearl, can I take Steven?”

“Of course, my Amethyst.” Pearl deftly untangles Spinel’s arms from Steven, ignoring her indignant “hey!”. She carries Steven over, her hands under his arms like she’s carrying a misbehaving cat. Steven looks happy enough to be carried, kicking his legs in the air. Amethyst is too short to carry Steven, so she just takes his hand when Pearl deposits him beside her. She can already tell that he needs a change. Poor boy, it’s been a long day. She’s surprised he isn’t more confused by everything going on, but he must be pretty heavily regressed.

I wonder if it’s related to the rest of them losing their memories? she wonders suddenly, and feels stupid for not realizing it before. Steven never regresses when he’s in the field, why didn’t it occur to her earlier? This must be part of the damage this weird weapon did to him when he was hit.

“Come on guys,” she repeats. Pearl is already beside her, arms behind her back, but the other three haven’t moved, Spinel pouting on the grass where Pearl had left her.

“We’re not goin anywhere with you!” Ruby growls from her position in front of Sapphire.

“We will follow them to the warp,” Sapphire corrects, resting one hand on Ruby’s shoulder. Ruby straightens, her face reddening as she stares at the point of contact between them.

“Uh. Yeah! We’ll follow you to the warp!” she shouts, and starts stomping in their direction, her eyes flickering back to Sapphire to make sure she’s following.

Amethyst feels a smile tug at her lips. Those two haven’t really changed all that much. Spinel runs up and grabs Steven’s other hand, wide eyes blinking up at Amethyst.

“Where are we going? Is there a slide there? Are we gonna play a game?”

Steven nods at Spinel’s questions, his eyes getting bigger and more excited.

“We’re going to meet some friends,” Amethyst explains, and starts leading the group down the hill towards the beach house. This is a weird day, and she seems to have two kids to take care of, but they’re all here. And they can figure this out. Amethyst believes in her friends.

#steven universe agere #su agere #agere writing #fandom agere #agere fanfiction #agere fanfic #my writing #my fics #steven universe

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gingersnapwolves · 4 years ago

Text

thank you to everyone who answered my question about the Sunshot Campaign ... the general consensus seemed to be “eh probably not but through fanfic all things are possible” lmao

now as to why I was asking ... I’ve been working on the outline of the Mingli fic and am running into a dilemma

the whole first part is fun school shenanigans, which, okay, isn’t really different from the series itself, and I thought about just stopping it there but that leaves kind of an ominous “but we all know the Sunshot Campaign is coming” feeling ... like, yay, everyone’s happy, but storm clouds are on the horizon ... which isn’t really the way I want to end a fic

so that leaves me with three basic choices

say ‘fuck it, this is one of those universes where the Wens aren’t evil because I don’t feel like dealing with it’

I did this in An Atypical Courtship and nobody seemed to mind

this also gives me the bonus of that I could have Wen Qing and Wen Ning at the lectures in The Unclean Realm, which I can’t have otherwise since the Nie and the Wen hate each other

but it also cuts out some of the fun I could have later, like at the banquet with JGS trying to put the engagement back on and JYL being like “um, I think my husband might object”, as well as JYL insisting that WQ be allowed to come to The Unclean Realm and be NMJ’s doctor to help him prevent qi deviation

have the fic proceed through the Sunshot Campaign basically with a parallel to canon

this is marginally difficult because if the lectures aren’t at Cloud Recesses then I don’t get LWJ and WWX pulled into the cave together

additionally, WWX wouldn’t meet WQ and WN at the lectures

so okay, I could stray more into book canon here, have WN’s motivation for helping WWX be solely that WWX was nice to him that one time at an archery tournament, and maybe even say ‘fuck it’ to the yin iron in general because it’s not really necessary to the plot

smaller additional problem is that the stuff that happens in the first half of the fic will prevent NMJ and Meng Yao’s messy divorce, but I’ve gotten around that before and I can get around it again

the real reason I’m not wholly thrilled with this option is really just because I’ve already written so many fics centered around stuff that happened during The Sunshot Campaign, it’s honestly a little boring ... WWX lost his golden core again, oop

I could skip over it entirely and just give a brief summary but that seems kind of cheap

the last option is that I could use the changes in the first half of fic to dramatically change the trajectory of the Sunshot Campaign

the first thought I had was that JC could go to Qinghe for help, instead of Lanling, while WWX and LWJ are trapped in the cave of Xuanwu, and then NMJ could actually escort them back to Yunmeng (as an excuse to visit JYL) and he would actually be there during the Wen’s attack on Lotus Pier - LWJ could be there, too, because NMJ would pretty easily persuade him to travel together, maybe send a message to LXC, who’s currently on the run/hiding out with MY, to all regroup together at Lotus Pier

Canonically, WZL can fight both YZY and NMJ to a draw, but could he fight both of them together to a draw? Doubtful

But then I started asking, if I prevent the sacking of Lotus Pier, JC keeps his core, WWX doesn’t end up in The Burial Mounds - is the war against the Wen sect even winnable at that point?

So it’s like, on the one hand, this is way more interesting than yet another ‘and then poor WWX got fucked over six ways from Sunday’ (if nothing else, imagine LWJ being there when YZY is like ‘I’m going to cut off WWX’s hand’)

But on the other hand, it might end with everyone getting murdered and the Wen sect overrunning the world

Or if I do find a way to win The Sunshot Campaign, I have a different problem, which is that if the sacking of Lotus Pier doesn’t happen, the Yunmeng trio don’t end up sheltering with Wen Qing and Wen Ning, so there’s no reason they would be spared later, which makes me sad

tl;dr I can’t decide where the eff I want this fic to go

any thoughts, opinions, additional plot bunnies?

#just rambling #fic stuff

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lisinfleur · 4 years ago

Text

The Bather

The request:

Author’s Notes | I hope you like the result as much as I liked to produce this piece!

Universe | Vikings

Pairing | Hvitserk x Reader

Info | Viking age, requested by @artxfuck, inspired by "The Bather" by Jason Rainville

Words | 2776

⁑ Warnings: Explicit material, SMUT.

It was not as if the two of you weren't a long and dragging thing extending itself for a trail of misfortunes and obstacles that were making you believe you and Hvitserk were something not made to be. The fact was that you and the prince of Kattegat had exchanged glares and even some malicious words here or there, but at the end of the night, whether you would get tired of the small games or he would end up drunk in someone else's arms (or bed), leaving you alone to your fingers and dreams one more time.

Maybe that was the reason why, this time, instead of joining the celebrations after such a victory under his leadership to drink and feast with the other shieldmaidens and warriors, you'd decided to give yourself the proper rest and reward your tired body with a good bath instead.

You were wounded, tired of getting his smiles when the thinner girls would have his pleasure. It was a good day to give yourself the proper respect and care after such good combat.

To Hel with whoever who wanted to see: you just dropped your clothes near the margin, diving entirely into the river, letting the cold waters bring some relief to your pain and help to stop the small bleeding on your leg - a shallow cut from an enemy effort to prevent you from killing his partner.

You ensured to send the pair together to Valhalla and now it was time to care for yourself.

After enjoying the water, you took your time to clean the wound on your leg and tie it with some bandages along with a small scratch on your arm you also cared about. Then, you proceeded to untie your hair, using a small bowl you had brought with you to pick up some water and pour it on your head, washing the blood down through your body, cleaning the strands slowly.

You were fully distracted - something that could be dangerous if it wasn't for the fact that, along with Hvitserk and your fellow men, you had destroyed the enemy camp and reduced their number to a whimsy number of wounded cowards that fled as far as they could from any possible spot taken by your countrymen. Even then, the idea of you, wounded and alone on a river, was enough to attract Hvitserk from the party into a search for your location.

He didn't see you anywhere and some shieldmaidens warned him you had declined their invitation to share the mead saying you wanted to care for your wounds. It was enough for Hvitserk's imagination to think you could be severely injured since many times you refused to care for scratches just to have enough time to celebrate your victories.

If something had taken you out of the party it would be something big, at least in his mind.

He followed the whole trail towards the river focused on his concerns about your health just to lose completely the line of his thoughts when his eyes finally landed on your naked figure on the water.

His mind suddenly stopped, unable to remember how to properly order his thoughts. His eyes caught the small wounds already cared but Hvitserk just wasn't able to prevent them from running your traces with the drops of water, sliding through your curves and silently drawing your body exposed.

He had imagined your traits so many times and none of them were faithful to your real figure.

In one thing he was right: you weren't like the women he was used to having in his bed. Your body was thicker, with more flesh around your thighs and hips he could imagine were a perfect bed for his seed. You would give birth to strong warriors and shieldmaidens brave and impetuous like yourself, for sure. And for too long he wanted to be the one to make them between your legs.

You weren't like the others for him. But, despite his noble thoughts of making you his wife someday, it was pure lust that consumed his reason at the sight of your nakedness.

Hvitserk's body charged him all the times the two of you ended up in that awful "almost"; all the times he wanted to be in your bed and lost his way to reach it, keeping that idea constantly at the bay, waiting for the right moment that never came. This time he didn't want to wait.

You were warned about his presence by the sight of Hvitserk's image waking through the margin, eyes in a dark green you'd seen little times in your life; like a wolf staring at his prey.

But you were no prey. Like him, you were a predator and it wasn't a sole wolf that would take off your self-confidence: ignoring completely the fact that you were naked, you bathed your body with the rest of the water inside your bowl and looked at him, no insecurity inside your eyes directed straight into his greens.

"Your mother didn't tell you it's not polite to stare, prince?" You taunted.

Watching as his lips curled in a mischievous grin.

"Your father didn't tell you not to bath fully naked by yourself?" He answered with the same irony, playing games with you. "A man could be around… With mischievous intentions…".

"I may want these mischievous intentions towards me," you kept the teasing, leaving the bowl intending to walk back into the water. "The water is cold. Warm hands would be a favor to my skin".

Hvitserk couldn't deny the chills down to his spine nor the hair shivered on his nape. His body was aching for you and that sounded like an invitation. His hands were warm and eager to run your curves. So eager!

"I cannot let that happen…" he mumbled, getting rid of his vest, attracting your attention as you turned to watch his hands untying his clothes. "My favorite shieldmaiden… Cold and needy? No… That's something I can't agree with."

Mocking words, jokes, the usual tone of your conversations. Games Hvitserk never thought would really move forward into something he would see so clearly into your eyes: you did not reject his intention. Instead, your eyes were attentively watching what he made a spectacle for your delight, slowly exposing his tattooed skin, not trying to hide the obvious hardness when letting his trousers down near your clothes.

In exchange, you didn't try to disguise the line of your gaze, running down his toned torso, staring shamelessly at the hardened shaft. A beautiful member, you thought to yourself. Something expected for a man like Hvitserk: a stallion, for sure. Understandable the many mares around, trying for his attention.

"Like what you see?" He asked, keeping the mocking tone.

To what you just smiled carelessly, as if it wasn't a thing to speak so openly about that subject.

"I do. It makes me think about what you may be able to do and the things I've heard about your many skills, prince."

This time, Hvitserk couldn't prevent himself from laughing. Coming forward into the water, he approached you, impressed.

"You have no shame speaking your thoughts, have you?" He asked.

"Why should I?" You answered, making his smile bigger. "I'm a free woman, owner of myself. Why should I be ashamed to show a man when he has something that attracts me?"

"So…" he said, coming closer "I do attract you, is that it?"

You giggled. He was still testing the waters. A wise way to think for a man who knew how strong and skilled you were in combat.

"If you want to know if I want you, Hvitserk, the answer is yes. You're a stallion I would definitely like to ride." You teased, getting a growl from the back of his neck that really shivered your cold skin.

"Here is a Valkyrie I would like to have, riding my cock like the wonderful mare she is," he said, not trying to hide his desire anymore.

You then covered the small distance between the two of you allowing him to lay eager hands on your waist as you nestled in between his arms.

"Then let us see how far can this stallion take me."

His grin was full of malice and satisfaction, preceding his lips devouring yours in the hungry kiss the two of you had postponed so far. His hands traveling your body with tight fingers marking your skin, claiming your body as his, the way he wanted so long.

You sighed muffled moans against his mouth, making Hvitserk hornier as if it was possible to want you more than his aching body already wanted. He growled against your lips, softly nibbling on your lower lip, sighing soundly when your hands started roaming through his skin, warm where the water had made him cold.

Slowly, you caressed his body, sliding your hand down and embracing his hardness on your soft fingers, smiling when he wasn't able to hold back his satisfaction, moaning low and hoarse at the feeling of your caresses.

"So needy," you taunted, starting a pace around his cock, squeezing his hardness into your hand just enough to swallow his answer in a characteristic gasp of pleasure. "Weren't the bunch of females you found before me able to satisfy your needs, stallion?"

"None were mares like you," he sighed, praising.

His hips moving against your hand in movements you could see were reflexive reactions to the pleasure you were giving to him.

You knew how used to dominating the women he had Hvitserk was. It wasn't hard to know who he was fucking around when his partners were boasting around about his skills, praising the prince for his hungry way to devour his women and get them falling at his feet.

But you weren't like them. You liked to have his moans, his pleasure in your hands, his desire bent to your will and Hvitserk could see you were taking his reins. And he didn't want to resist. He couldn't, not even if he wanted. Not when you knew the exact pressure to squeeze his reason out of his mind; not when you knew the exact speed to have him panting on your rhythm.

When you lowered yourself down, Hvitserk's mouth got dry in anticipation. He was used to going down on his women but few would willingly take his member into their mouths like you and even fewer would suck him tight, firm and as secure of their movements as you were doing, milking his pleasure out, bringing his self-control to the edge of being shattered in front of his eyes.

"Fuck… Y/N!"

You giggled, taking him whole into your mouth once again. It was good to see him so lost; satisfying to have Hvitserk Ragnarsson fully on your hands. He could barely breathe or speak without a moan and you could feel his member throbbing out of rhythm, about to ignore his efforts to make that moment last longer.

However, you wanted that to last as much as you deserved for all the nights you'd waited for that touch. You wanted him to give you what was rightfully yours for all those "almost" never completed between the two of you. You deserved his best and you would have. You wanted Hvitserk begging for more.

It wasn't hard to get. You just had to abandon his throbbing shaft, interrupting the pace you had started right when he was about to cum in your hand. It was enough for his voice to sound in a moan full of sadness before his eyes would shine with need on yours.

"That's torture, Y/N… Please…" he mumbled.

And you smiled, victorious.

"Inside of me," you stated, igniting his desire with your voice so full of decision. "I've been waiting for you for too long to waste any of your desire with less than what I deserve."

Such a woman! If there were any doubts in his heart that you were the one he wanted, these doubts were drowning into that river as he followed your steps towards the margin, watching your beautiful body laying over his cloak. Your curvy figure was like a sculpture, a work of art moving graciously, opening your legs for him like the golden doors of Valhalla in front of his bare eyes.

"Come, stallion. Show me your strength."

He went. Without a single word or question, Hvitserk obeyed what he knew he couldn't deny. Not to you nor to himself and his own postponed need to have you moaning his name, chanting your pleasure for him.

Slowly, he laid his body over yours, kissing your lips, embracing your waist, and connecting your bodies without even needing to hold himself. He was too hard. You were so wet!

As his hips started investing against yours, you held his nape with a firm hand, panting against his lips in short breaths that crossed with his own. Touching his forehead to yours, Hvitserk captured your eyes with his, trying to let you read into his orbs how much that moment was more than just desire for him.

"I want you… to be mine…" he panted between thrusts.

You couldn't deny it filled your heart with joy, but your smile was defiant as you clenched around him tighter, making his work harder upon your body.

"Then claim me, prince. Show me you worth my choice," you challenged.

It just made him want you more.

Every breath of yours was a victory for him. Every moan, a prize Hvitserk was fighting for with every thrust.

But once again, when the edge was near and he thought he would finally taste the flavors served to the gods themselves and watch your pleasure like a deserved reward to the victorious warrior he wanted so hard to be, you moved your body under his. One more time, you took control of that moment, changing positions and turning your bodies over the cloak, laying him flat over his back like a defeated stallion under the Valkyrie you looked like, mounted over him so imposing.

A smile sprouted on your face when his eyes shone so amazed. You knew you weren't like the others, but it was delicious to be so much more in his eyes like that.

"I said I wanted to mount you, stallion," you justified the change of positions, smiling at him.

Feeling his tight grip on your waist and the movement he made to take the chance of that position, fitting perfectly into your channel and brushing your cervix that delicious way, making you feel so full, so complete.

"Mount me, Valkyrie. I'm yours," he declared, not denying to you his best moans, growls, or expressions as your hard pace and strong movements got him more satisfied than never before.

You rode Hvitserk's hips like the best stallion you've ever mounted and when he came, filling your insides with his seed, you allowed the pleasure to overcome you, delivering the best of yourself for his eyes only, coming like you never had before, full and satisfied.

The two of you collapsed, panting against each other. Hvitserk nestled your body against his and, for a long moment of silence, you felt his fingers knowing your skin, tracing your body in a sweet caress you liked to feel.

After a while, his voice broke the silence, speaking low but secure, certain of what he was saying.

"Come to my tent. Stay with me tonight."

You smiled at him. Your breath slowly taking back its normal rhythm.

"Tonight?" You asked, teasing him.

But this time, he answered seriously, full of sureness and determination.

"From now on."

"You know it means you shall be mine and mine only, right?" You stated.

You could want him, but you knew pretty well his nature and the many chances he had to have distractions wherever and whenever he wanted. And you never liked to share what was yours.

"For as long as I have you, there is no other in the nine realms for me," Hvitserk declared, almost solemn.

"Save these beautiful words for your vows, stallion. I'll like to hear them once again," you smiled.

Seeing his eyes glowing with joy and satisfaction with your declared acceptance.

"I suggest you get used to listening to them, my mare, cause praising you will be inevitable."

His arm involved your waist and you smiled against his chest. You could easily get used to being treated so well. After all, it was the fair reward for the long waiting of your heart.

It was good to be able to have him whole like that.

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