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#Judges ch.1
lordgodjehovahsway · 6 months
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Judges 1: God Sends The Tribes Of Israel Into Battle Against The Canaanites
1 After the death of Joshua, the Israelites asked the Lord, “Who of us is to go up first to fight against the Canaanites?”
2 The Lord answered, “Judah shall go up; I have given the land into their hands.”
3 The men of Judah then said to the Simeonites their fellow Israelites, “Come up with us into the territory allotted to us, to fight against the Canaanites. We in turn will go with you into yours.” So the Simeonites went with them.
4 When Judah attacked, the Lord gave the Canaanites and Perizzites into their hands, and they struck down ten thousand men at Bezek. 
5 It was there that they found Adoni-Bezek and fought against him, putting to rout the Canaanites and Perizzites. 
6 Adoni-Bezek fled, but they chased him and caught him, and cut off his thumbs and big toes.
7 Then Adoni-Bezek said, “Seventy kings with their thumbs and big toes cut off have picked up scraps under my table. Now God has paid me back for what I did to them.” They brought him to Jerusalem, and he died there.
8 The men of Judah attacked Jerusalem also and took it. They put the city to the sword and set it on fire.
9 After that, Judah went down to fight against the Canaanites living in the hill country, the Negev and the western foothills. 
10 They advanced against the Canaanites living in Hebron (formerly called Kiriath Arba) and defeated Sheshai, Ahiman and Talmai. 
11 From there they advanced against the people living in Debir (formerly called Kiriath Sepher).
12 And Caleb said, “I will give my daughter Aksah in marriage to the man who attacks and captures Kiriath Sepher.” 
13 Othniel son of Kenaz, Caleb’s younger brother, took it; so Caleb gave his daughter Aksah to him in marriage.
14 One day when she came to Othniel, she urged him to ask her father for a field. When she got off her donkey, Caleb asked her, “What can I do for you?”
15 She replied, “Do me a special favor. Since you have given me land in the Negev, give me also springs of water.” So Caleb gave her the upper and lower springs.
16 The descendants of Moses’ father-in-law, the Kenite, went up from the City of Palms with the people of Judah to live among the inhabitants of the Desert of Judah in the Negev near Arad.
17 Then the men of Judah went with the Simeonites their fellow Israelites and attacked the Canaanites living in Zephath, and they totally destroyed the city. Therefore it was called Hormah. 
18 Judah also took Gaza, Ashkelon and Ekron—each city with its territory.
19 The Lord was with the men of Judah. They took possession of the hill country, but they were unable to drive the people from the plains, because they had chariots fitted with iron. 
20 As Moses had promised, Hebron was given to Caleb, who drove from it the three sons of Anak. 
21 The Benjamites, however, did not drive out the Jebusites, who were living in Jerusalem; to this day the Jebusites live there with the Benjamites.
22 Now the tribes of Joseph attacked Bethel, and the Lord was with them. 
23 When they sent men to spy out Bethel (formerly called Luz), 
24 the spies saw a man coming out of the city and they said to him, “Show us how to get into the city and we will see that you are treated well.” 
25 So he showed them, and they put the city to the sword but spared the man and his whole family. 
26 He then went to the land of the Hittites, where he built a city and called it Luz, which is its name to this day.
27 But Manasseh did not drive out the people of Beth Shan or Taanach or Dor or Ibleam or Megiddo and their surrounding settlements, for the Canaanites were determined to live in that land. 
28 When Israel became strong, they pressed the Canaanites into forced labor but never drove them out completely. 
29 Nor did Ephraim drive out the Canaanites living in Gezer, but the Canaanites continued to live there among them. 
30 Neither did Zebulun drive out the Canaanites living in Kitron or Nahalol, so these Canaanites lived among them, but Zebulun did subject them to forced labor. 
31 Nor did Asher drive out those living in Akko or Sidon or Ahlab or Akzib or Helbah or Aphek or Rehob. 
32 The Asherites lived among the Canaanite inhabitants of the land because they did not drive them out. 
33 Neither did Naphtali drive out those living in Beth Shemesh or Beth Anath; but the Naphtalites too lived among the Canaanite inhabitants of the land, and those living in Beth Shemesh and Beth Anath became forced laborers for them. 
34 The Amorites confined the Danites to the hill country, not allowing them to come down into the plain. 
35 And the Amorites were determined also to hold out in Mount Heres, Aijalon and Shaalbim, but when the power of the tribes of Joseph increased, they too were pressed into forced labor. 
36 The boundary of the Amorites was from Scorpion Pass to Sela and beyond.
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galedekarios · 6 months
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he's having fun i promise 🍻
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dimeadozencows · 9 months
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Krispee cream
#kris deltarune#kris dreemurr#deltarune#kris my beloved#i don't think I've even liked a vg protagonist as much as i love them#maybe chell#but i love kris even more#i love them so much i wanna stop playing Deltarune to give them a break ❤️#i like the idea of them feeling gender euphoria in the dark worlds#not only because of one of the most comforting lines in vg history that you can get by interacting with their closet in castle town#'you can wear whatever you want'#but also because someone noticed that their sitting down sprite in the dark world is slightly taller than the light world equivalent#(the one thats used in ch 2 next to the lake if you dont talk to onion san in ch 1)#cus yeah. magical world where everything is perfect. where u get magic powers and awesome outfits. where everyone likes you and prises you#gender euphoria fits right in :]#honestly id open a dark fountain to feel taller regardless of any apocalyptic ramifications or#faceless outside forces who could harm me and my loved ones#i totally understand them and i do not believe anyone has the right to judge their actions#my art#i was on the fance about posting these but afreakingmilkshake convinced me :] i hope i spelled ur username right lol#i lovvvve giving them hairstyles. if only i could make my hair into a perfectly round afro and not have it sadly droop like sad spongebob#maybe in a dark world#(↑another reason to open the dark fountain. they were justified)#i also love giving them braces. and eye bags. and dry skin. the middle school essentials#i love them. i hope the game ends soon so we can leave them alone so they could shower. the poor bastard
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shalom-iamcominghome · 4 months
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Stay calm, guys, I might have... get this... a second kippah to wear in a few hours 😱
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munchkinchild · 3 months
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Okay, since we're once again playing the "Nesta has to apologise for every single thing she's ever done wrong in her life" game, I thought I'd make a list of nearly everything Feyre has apologise for when it comes to Nesta;
- I'm sorry for insulting the way you looked when you were born saying you had a sneer on your face when I literally didn't exist.
"She wasn’t like Nesta, who had been born with a sneer on her face." ACOTAR CH.2
- I'm sorry for not thanking you for cooking for us every night since Elain and I didn't know how to.
"We dined on roasted venison that night." ACOTAR CH.2
"Heat. I can't cook" ACOMAF CH.54 (Proof that she can't cook)
- I'm sorry for insinuating that you are a horrible person and that our mother realised that on her death bed.
"Or maybe impending death had given her some clarity about the true nature of her children, her husband." ACOTAR CH. 1
- I'm sorry for judging you for trying to befriend the village people because your old friends ignore you.
"Since we had lost our fortune, their former friends dutifully ignored them, so my sisters paraded about as though the young peasants of the town made up a second-rate social circle." ACOTAR CH.2
- I'm sorry for making fun of you, telling you you can't and calling you a burden for wanting to marry an abuser to help the family when I literally said a few paragraphs before how much I was looking forward to you and Elain leaving so I could be alone.
"Sometimes I would even indulge in envisioning a day when my sisters were married and it was only me and Father, with enough food to go around, enough money to buy some paint, and enough time to put those colors and shapes down on paper or canvas or the cottage walls." ACOTAR CH.1
“Believe me,” I said to her, “the day you want to marry someone worthy, I’ll march up to his house and hand you over. But you’re not going to marry Tomas.” ACOTAR CH.2
"If Nesta wanted to leave, then fine. Good. I’d be one step closer to attaining that glorious, peaceful future, to attaining a quiet house and enough food and time to paint." ACOTAR CH.2
"While Tomas might want to marry you … you’re a burden.” ACOTAR CH.2
- I'm sorry for not thanking you for caring about my safety with the mercenary after you had been robbed.
“They’re dangerous,” Nesta hissed, her fingers digging into my arm as she continued to pull me from the mercenary. “Don’t go near them again.” ACOTAR CH. 3
//“Some other one who passed through. We had only a few coins, and he got mad, but—”
“Why didn’t you report him—or tell me?”
“What could you have done?” Nesta sneered. “Challenged him to a fight with your bow and arrows? And who in this sewer of a town would even care if we reported anything?”
“What about your Tomas Mandray?” I said coolly."// ACOTAR CH. 3
- I'm sorry for pushing you away when you showed concern for me sleeping with Isaac.
“I do hope you two are taking precautions.”
“It’s a bit late to pretend to care,” I said." ACOTAR CH. 3
- I'm sorry for complaining about not being included when all I do is exclude myself and judge what you bought with the tiny amount of money I gave you.
"I watched my sisters whispering and laughing together. They’d spent every copper I’d given them—on what, I didn’t know, though Elain had brought back a new chisel for our father’s wood carving." ACOTAR CH. 3
- I'm sorry for almost scolding you for not being able to afford new boots and a cloak when I literally judged you for wanting a new one
"The cloak and boots they’d whined about the night before had been too expensive. But I hadn’t scolded them for it, not when Nesta went out a second time to chop more wood without my asking." ACOTAR CH. 3
-I'm sorry for saying you wouldn't protect me and then in the same sentence say that I know it's because you know that I can fight my own battles.
"I knew—with a sudden, uncoiling clarity—that Nesta would buy Elain time to run. Not my father, whom she resented with her entire steely heart. Not me, because Nesta had always known and hated that she and I were two sides of the same coin, and that I could fight my own battles." ACOTAR CH. 4
- I'm sorry for saying that you were probably happy that I was gone and hoping I had been eaten so you could get attention when you were literally hiking alone trying to cross the wall to find me and save me.
"Nesta must be stretching her legs and smiling at the extra room. She was probably content imagining me in the belly of a faerie—probably using the news as a chance to be fussed over by the villagers." ACOTAR CH. 7
- I'm sorry for trying to put blame on you when you were telling me how you think our father forgets that he literally neglected all of us.
“There are days,” Nesta said as she paused in front of the door to her room, across from mine, “when I want to ask him if he remembers the years he almost let us starve to death.”
“You spent every copper I could get, too,” I reminded her." ACOTAR CH. 30
- I'm sorry for blaming you for not teaching me how to read and write when that was never your responsibility, I never told you and I should've been able to do that because I was 8 when we lost our fortune. I'm also sorry for assuming that your level of reading would be better than mine since I admitted that our mother neglected our schooling.
"Before our downfall, my mother had sorely neglected our education, not bothering to hire a governess. And after poverty struck and my elder sisters, who could read and write, deemed the village school beneath us, they didn’t bother to teach me. I could read enough to function—enough to form my letters, but so poorly that even signing my name was mortifying." ACOTAR CH. 13
- I'm sorry for telling Ianthe everything about you, including where you lived, which ended in her being able to kidnap you and force you into the cauldron.
"I’d told her about the village, and the house my sisters now lived in, about Isaac Hale and Tomas Mandray. I hadn’t been able to mention Clare Beddor—or what had happened to her family." ACOMAF CH. 2
- I'm sorry for telling the IC that you only cared about money and social standing.
“I was born to a wealthy merchant family, with two older sisters and parents who only cared about their money and social standing." ACOMAF CH. 16
- I'm sorry for telling Rhys that I would make you and Elain help the fae with their problems and even consider asking Rhys to force you to help the fae.
//"They might not be happy about it, but I’ll make Elain and Nesta do it.”
"I didn’t have the nerve to ask Rhys if he could simply force my family to agree to help us if they refused. I wondered if his powers would work on Nesta when even Tamlin’s glamour had failed against her steel mind."// ACOMAF CH. 19
- I'm sorry for showing up unannounced to the house with a group of dangerous men and immediately expecting you to be okay with it.
Chapter 23 of ACOMAF ~ it's too long to post.
- I'm sorry for leaving you both to clean up after I'd insulted the food and let complete strangers openly judge you.
//“Is there something wrong with our food?” she said flatly.
I made myself take another bite, each movement of my jaw an effort. “No.” I swallowed and gulped down a healthy drink of water.
“So you can’t eat normal food anymore—or are you too good for it?” A question and a challenge.
Rhys’s fork clanked on his plate. Elain made a small, distressed noise.
And though Nesta had let me use this house, though she’d tried to cross the wall for me and we’d worked out a tentative truce, the tone, the disgust and disapproval …
I laid my hand flat on the table. “I can eat, drink, fuck, and fight just as well as I did before. Better, even.”// ACOMAF CH. 24
//"Cassian’s brows rose—little amusement to be found now. “Someone who let her youngest sister risk her life every day in the woods while she did nothing. Someone who let a fourteen-year-old child go out into that forest, so close to the wall.” My face began heating, and I opened my mouth. To say what, I didn’t know. “Your sister died—died to save my people. She is willing to do so again to protect you from war. So don’t expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she did not get to make—and insult my people in the process.”
Nesta didn’t bat an eyelash as she studied the handsome features, the muscled torso. Then turned to me. Dismissing him entirely."// ACOMAF CH. 24
"My sisters cleaned the dishes while we worked, and had excused themselves to bed hours before, mentioning where to find our rooms." ACOMAF CH. 24
- I'm sorry for calling you a creature after Rhys insulted you and saying it's the kindest thing I could say about you.
“Nesta is a delight, by the way.”
“She’s … her own creature,” I said. It was perhaps the kindest thing I could say about her." ACOMAF CH. 24
- I'm sorry for not standing up for you when Rhys claimed that only Elain cares about me and that it's your fault for not protecting me.
"Rhys didn’t answer. Instead he said, “I didn’t think I could get through that dinner.”
“What do you mean?” He’d been rather … calm. Contained.
“Your sisters mean well, or one of them does. But seeing them, sitting at that table … I hadn’t realized it would hit me as strongly. How young you were. How they didn’t protect you.”
“I managed just fine.” ACOMAF CH. 24
- I'm sorry for saying that you let me go into the woods when you aren't my mother or responsible for me.
“But if I hadn’t gone into those woods, if they hadn’t let me go out there alone …" ACOMAF CH. 24
- I'm sorry for allowing Rhys to say he can't look at you without wanting to roar at you when he doesn't know a single thing about you.
“but it will be a long while yet before I can look at your sisters without wanting to roar at them.” ACOMAF CH. 24
- I'm sorry for comparing the anger I felt about Eris and the nail in Mor to Rhys hating you for your "failings"
"And I understood—why Rhys could not endure Nesta for more than a few moments, why he could not let go of that anger where her failings were concerned, even if I had." ACOMAF CH. 41
- I'm sorry for forcing you to help in a war you had no original part in and for telling Rhys I would make our desperation obvious so they're manipulated into helping.
//"Let me figure out how to deal with both of them, as family, but mostly as their High Lady.
Mor’s face tightened, but I shook my head. “I can—ask my sisters. See if they have any sort of power. See if they’d be willing to … talk to others about what they endured. But I won’t force them to help, if they do not wish to participate. The choice will be theirs.” I glanced at my mate—the male who had always presented me with a choice not as a gift, but as my own gods-given right. Rhys’s violet eyes flickered in acknowledgment. “But I’ll make our … desperation clear.”// ACOWAR CH. 16
- I'm sorry for repeatedly asking you to tell complete strangers what happened to you in the cauldron after you had said no several times and I'm sorry for trying to abuse my power as High Lady to manipulate you into telling your story
//“And we might need your assistance during the meeting with the High Lords—to provide testimony to other courts and allies of what Hybern is capable of. What was done to you.”
“No.”
“You don’t mind fixing the wall or going to the Court of Nightmares, but speaking to people is where you draw your line?”
Nesta’s mouth tightened. “No.”
High Lady or sister; sister or High Lady … “People’s lives might depend on your account of it. The success of this meeting with the High Lords might depend upon it.”
She gripped the arms of her chair, as if restraining herself. “Don’t talk down to me. My answer is no.”
I angled my head. “I understand that what happened to you was horrible—”
“You have no idea what it was or was not. None. And I am not going to grovel like one of those Children of the Blessed, begging High Fae who would have gladly killed me as a mortal to help us. I’m not going to tell them that story—my story.”
“The High Lords might not believe our account, which makes you a valuable witness—”
Nesta shoved her chair back, chucking her napkin on her plate, gravy soaking through the fine linen. “Then it is not my problem if you’re unreliable. I’ll help you with the wall, but I am not going to whore my story around to everyone on your behalf.”// ACOWAR CH. 18
- I'm sorry for trying to force you to train when you said multiple times you didn't want to.
"But then I said, “Why won’t you train with Cassian?”
Nesta’s spine locked up. “Why is it only Cassian that I may train with? Why not the other one?”
“Azriel?”
“Him, or the blond one who won’t shut up.”
“If you’re referring to Mor—”
“And why must I train at all? I am no warrior, nor do I desire to be.”
“It could make you strong—”
“There are many types of strength beyond the ability to wield a blade and end lives. Amren told me that yesterday.” ACOWAR CH. 24
- I'm sorry for telling you off for not being respectful to the healer when you were rightfully annoyed that no one was helping Elain, accusing you of barking at them and snapping at you to "be quiet" when you were worried.
//“How.” The word was barely more than a barked command.
I braced myself to warn Nesta to be polite, but Madja said to my sister, as if she were a small child, “The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.”
The healer’s tone made my sister stiffen, but Madja was already hobbling for the front door. She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.” Then she was gone.
I whirled on Nesta. “A little respect, Nesta—”
“Call another healer.”
“Not if you’re going to bark them out of the house.”
“Call another healer.”
I caught Lucien’s eye. “Would you try it?”
Nesta snarled, “Don’t you even attempt—”
“Be quiet,” I snapped.
Nesta blinked.
I bared my teeth at her. “He will try. And if he doesn’t find anything amiss, we’ll consider bringing another healer.”// ACOWAR CH. 28
- I'm sorry for winnowing away when we were going somewhere together, leaving you with a man you felt uncomfortable around and calling me doing that "sisterly payback" because you're attitude was not what I wanted it to be.
"Ready for some flying, Nes?”
“Don’t call me that.”
The wrong thing to say, from the way Cassian’s eyes lit up.
I chose that moment to winnow to the skies above the House, chuckling as wind carried me through the world. Some sisterly payback, I supposed. For Nesta’s general attitude." ACOWAR CH. 30
- I'm sorry for not believing you when you told me that we weren't safe, telling you that because the others don't think anything is wrong, it's all fine.
“We need to leave,” Nesta said. “Right now.”
Every sense went on alert. “Why?”
“It feels wrong. Something feels wrong.”
I studied her, the clear sky beyond the towering, drape-framed windows. “Rhys and the others would sense it. You’re likely just picking up on all the power gathered here.”
“Something is wrong,” Nesta insisted.
“I’m not doubting you feel that way but … If none of the others are picking it up—” ACOWAR CH. 47
- I'm sorry for telling you that I would build a shower for you after you told me you can't take baths anymore and then never doing anything.
Nesta studied me for a long moment. And then she said with equal quiet, though we could all hear, “I can’t get into a bathtub anymore. I have to use buckets.”
I hadn’t known—hadn’t even thought that bathing, submerging in water …
I knew better than to touch her hand. But I said, “When we get home, we’ll install something else for you.” ACOWAR CH. 52
- I'm sorry for judging where you spend your time.
"Nesta shrugged. “She could have eaten with me here.”
“You know Elain wouldn’t feel comfortable in a place like this.”
She arched a well-groomed brow. “A place like this? What sort of place is that?” ACOFAS CH. 13
- I'm sorry for forcing you to come to a religious holiday you don't celebrate and judging the place you want to celebrate in. And then trying to use our father's death as a way to guilt you into coming.
//"Finally, my sister looked back at me. “So you’re bribing me, then?”
I didn’t flinch. “I’m seeing if you’re willing to be reasoned with. If there’s a way to make it worth your while.”
Nesta planted the tip of her pointer finger atop her stack of cards and fanned them out across the table. “It’s not even our holiday. We don’t have holidays.”
“Perhaps you should try it. You might enjoy yourself.”
“As I told Elain: you have your lives, and I have mine.”
Again, I cast a pointed glance to the tavern. “Why? Why this insistence on distancing yourself?”
She settled back in her seat, crossing her arms. “Why do I have to be a part of your merry little band?”
“You’re my sister.”
Again, that empty, cold look.
I waited.
“I’m not going to your party,” she said."//
//“Father would want you to—”
“Don’t you finish that sentence.”// ACOWAR CH. 13
- I'm sorry for withholding your rent unless you came to an event you didn't feel comfortable coming to and then when you came, ignoring you and being insulted you didn't get me a gift when I didn't get you one.
//She swigged from her glass. “It’s due next week. In case you forgot.”
I said flatly, “Come to Solstice and I’ll make sure it’s delivered.”// ACOFAS CH. 13
//"It occurred to me only when she said the words that none of the gifts in this room had Nesta’s name on them."// ACOFAS CH. 20
//"Nothing from Nesta, but I didn’t care. Not one bit."// ACOFAS CH. 20
//"Nesta watched warily from her chair, Elain’s present—her only present—in her lap."// ACOFAS CH. 20
//“Here.”
Nesta half turned toward me, focus darting to what was in my hand. The small slip of paper.
The banker’s note for her rent. And then some.
“As promised,” I said.
For a moment, I prayed she wouldn’t take it. That she would tell me to tear it up."// ACOFAS CH. 20
- I'm sorry for not saying anything when Amren openly slut shamed you.
“Though I bet it’s hard to look good,” Amren went on, “when you’re out until the darkest hours of the night, drinking yourself stupid and fucking anything that comes your way.”
Feyre whipped her head to the High Lord’s Second. Rhys seemed inclined to agree with Amren. ACOSF CH. 1
-I'm sorry for telling you that you embarrassed "my family" when you're my sister.
Do you know how embarrassed I was when we got the bill this morning and my friends—my family—had to hear all about it?”
Nesta hated that word. The term Feyre used to describe her court. As if things had been so miserable with the Archeron family that Feyre had needed to find another one." ACOSF CH. 2
- I'm sorry for painting everyone but you and then only painting you when I decided that you had earned it.
//"Every piece of art had been picked by Feyre herself, or painted by her, many of them portraits and depictions of them—her friends, her … new family.
There were none of Nesta, naturally.// ACOSF CH. 1
//"She’d joined them at the river house one night to find a mating present from Feyre waiting for her. Hanging on the wall in the grand entry.
A portrait of Nesta, holding the line at the Pass of Enalius."// ACOSF CH. 80
-I'm sorry for telling you that I would tie you up and force you to go to the House of Wind when I myself should know what it feels like to be locked up against my will.
"You’re going, even if you have to be tied up and hauled there." ACOSF CH. 2
I can go on...
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lisenberry · 28 days
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The mountain is you
Ch. 2 - I don't know what it is that I'm climbing to
~2.4k
E/MDNI/18+
CW: BDSM negotiations, dom!Price, dom!Ghost, pain play
(Chapter 1)
It’d been a while since John had spoken to his former lieutenant, and even longer since he’d seen him.  The last few years had passed in a fog, so it was a shock when he saw the familiar number come across his phone.  He only briefly hesitated before answering. 
Soap and Gaz texted him all the time.  Links of foolish videos on the clock app, and pictures of mysterious rashes on their body parts that they needed help identifying.
But Ghost wasn’t one to waste anyone’s time.  Whatever it was, it was important.  And as it turned out, he had a proposition for him.
“You need a project, Cap.  Something to keep you sharp.”
“Are you worried about me, Simon?”
“We all are.”
John had been the one to start Life Connect 141.  An opportunity that gave the lads a place to channel their post-combat restless energy in a way that wouldn’t get them a murder conviction or a stint in a maximum-security psych ward.  It kept them together as a team and gave them a purpose.  And the opportunity to launder some of the not-quite-above-board money they’d liberated over the course of their travels.
Some veterans of special ops worked with rescued pit bulls.  Others started fitness programs, backpacking guide schools, and preparedness training facilities.
His boys filled their own rewarding niche.  Even after John’s departure, the company had flourished and from what he could tell, they were all staying out of trouble.
Judging by Ghost’s concern, he was the one who was floundering.  A marriage to the wrong woman, and the subsequent messy divorce, had left him dangerously adrift.  He’d thought about returning to the work, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore.
“Just meet her.  Trust me.  You can decide then if you’re doing me a favor, or the other way around.”
And he did trust Ghost.  With his life.  And if anyone had been keeping track, he imagined the scales were just about even between who owed whom more.
In the end, he agreed to the meeting.  For no other reason than to see for himself what had one of the toughest, most resourceful bastards he’d ever known seeking his expertise. 
They’d been at the table for a half hour, going over your file and discussing the particulars when John glanced up to catch his first impression of you.  A breezy blouse and a long, colorful skirt.  You looked around the outside seating area but didn’t see them.
Or more likely, you didn’t recognize Ghost without his mask on, judging by the surprised laughter that met his ears a few seconds later.
“Ah, dove.  There you are.”  Simon grinned as he stood, pulling you into a friendly hug. 
“You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve never seen you without the mask before.  I’m trying to reconcile the picture in my head.  I’ll try not to stare.”  An endearingly warm smile lit up your face.
You weren’t at all what John had pictured, either.  He’d clearly have to adjust the conclusions he’d reached based on your file.  He’d read about your stressful, demanding job, your high intelligence and predilection for punishment, and he’d imagined someone harder.  Colder.
There was a notation in the margin on one of the pages that had stood out as well. 
Daddy issues??? Undisclosed but probable.
He made his own note to inquire further, suddenly anxious to know everything there was to know about you.
“The mask is an improvement, don’t you think?” Ghost shrugged.  Was he actually blushing? 
Surely it was just the heat of the sun or a trick of the light.
“It has its charms, but you have a very honest face.”  The way you laid your hand reassuringly on his lieutenant’s arm made John clear his throat and offer his own hand in greeting.
As cute as your connection was, you were there for him, and he noticed the way you’d nervously avoided meeting his gaze.  The way you’d chosen to cling instead to Simon, the devil you knew. 
He had no desire to forcibly extricate you from your bond with your previous Dom.  That wasn’t how it worked.  At best, John could match it.  Slowly.  If he did his job right, in time, you’d come to look at him with a similar trust.
“Nice to meet you,” your eyes finally flitted to his as he took your cool, smooth palm into his own. 
It was then that he felt it.  The twitchy, fevered thrill of a worthy mission.
“So, what does that file say about me?”  You sipped your pint, finding your throat suddenly dry and your forehead warm, and in need of something to do with your hands. 
Ghost had excused himself a short while before, after making the introductions and sharing a few stories of his and John’s time working together.   
You’d found being alone with him to be...intense.  He seemed impenetrable.
He didn’t look down at the folder, and kept it closed on the table.  His pen held between his two hands, contemplative and resolute.
“That you’re a pain slut.  With a high tolerance.”  His voice didn’t rise above his gruff, conversational tone, and you didn’t bother to look around at your fellow patrons seated near you.  With the din of the restaurant, they wouldn’t be able to hear.  “Does that bother you?”
“No.  It’s the truth.”  You didn’t have anything to hide.  Not from him at least.  Not if this was going to work.
“What is it about pain that you seek out?”  He crossed his arms over the table and leaned in closer.  Biceps bunching under his t-shirt.  Ghost had always worn a suit.  John looked like he came from a construction site.  Unshaven and slightly dangerous.
You didn't hate it.
“When it’s done right, there’s a moment right before it gets to be too much that my body starts to fight back.  As if to say, ‘Go on, I dare you.  Is that all you’ve got to give?’  And just then, right before I give in and quit, it’s the most powerful I’ve ever been.  The most alive.”
“It’s the rush then, is it?”  He studied you like a therapist.  And you felt like a patient.  Only this therapist’s job was to tie you up and make you cry.  And come.  And cry again.  The thought made you shudder inwardly with anticipation.   
“It doesn’t work for all pain.  It’s not the blood or the risk of injury.  I don’t get off at the thought of the dentist...” you trailed off with a light laugh, finding it easier to talk to him about this than you'd thought. “But sometimes, the more helpless I am, the stronger it feels.  There aren’t too many things you can do without thinking about it.  Against your will.  Beating, breathing, feeling.  There’s a freedom in it.  Again, if it’s done right.”
“You don’t like to think, then.  You’d rather be surprised?”
“I don’t mind surprises.  I like them, actually.  We don’t have to negotiate everything ahead of time, so long as it feels right in the scene.”
You finished off the last of your pint and smoothed the napkin that had caught to the condensation on the bottom.  A first date, a therapy session, and an interview all in one.  And yet it didn’t fill you with the same anxiety as it should.  It could’ve gone wrong in a hundred different ways, and yet the more you confided, the more you relaxed. 
“Talk to me about these hard lines.”  He opened your file, skimmed it, and moved his pen back and forth as if he was underlining something boldly.
“Always be honest with me about what you’re going to do.  Don’t play games or make me have to choose something in order to please you.  Keep me engaged, but if I have to make a decision it will take me out of it.”
“That’s important to know, thank you.”  He made another note on the page.  “It also says no choking, but with an asterisk next to it.  Care you elaborate?”
“When I was little, I had terrible asthma.  Life threatening at times.  It’s under control now, but not being able to breathe, or even the threat of it, doesn’t...” you paused, searching for the right word to convey your biggest fear, “arouse me.  Let’s just say.”
“I understand why it wouldn’t.”  No sympathetic indulgence, thankfully, just a solid nod of support. 
Could he relate?  You wondered what hard lines he had.  You couldn’t imagine anything scaring him. Ghost had reacted the same when you’d had this discussion.  No questions, no bargaining.  Just respect for your vulnerability.  Surprising, from two men who seemingly had none themselves.
It prompted you to delve in further, and leave no room for misunderstanding, just in case.
“No collars, no ribbons, bows, belts, neckties, your hands, anything please.”
“Neck is off limits.  Noted.” 
“You can still kiss me there, if that’s something you like.  Or you can slap me, to get my attention.  And if you need to move me around or hold me down, you can grab my hair.”
You punctuated the last with a helpful smile and a shrug of your shoulders.  His gaze seemed to find your neck then, perhaps contemplating what it’d be like to kiss it.  Did the thought bring him as much excitement as it did you?
“Fair enough.”  A contented grunt was all you received in response.
“You said that this would be a reciprocating agreement.  What do you want from me?”  The question that had been on your mind since Ghost had called you.
With him, you just paid him money.  That was your end of the deal.  Without payment, that left too much to your imagination and you’d let it run a bit wild. 
“I’ll tell you what I want, and when I want it.  Is that clear?  I won’t ask for your permission, and you’ll never have to wonder what I’m thinking.  I don’t hear yes and no, or green and yellow.  Red means take a break and try something else, and the safe word is a hard stop to call it a day.”
“Understood.  Thank you.”  It was a plan you could definitely work with.  “But what about you?  What do you hope to get out of this?”
“I like to be in charge.  Take care of things.  And do the hard things that need to be done.”
“And who takes care of you?”  A simple question, but he seemed to bristle at it.  Perhaps you’d pushed him too far, too soon. 
“Good little girls who listen and behave.”  He adjusted himself in his seat, straightening as if to get back some control.  “Let’s talk punishments.  No spanking, obviously.  You’ll enjoy it too much.”  His eyes seemed to darken in both amusement and desire.
No doubt proud of himself for changing the subject and redirecting the friendly interrogation.
“Hopefully I won’t displease you, but you could ignore me.  That will make me rethink my attitude real quick,” you replied, with an answering grin.
“Ignore you?  I think that would hurt me more than you, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.  You liked that.  Probably said as much with the flood of heat to your cheeks and the breathless giggle that sounded so foreign to your ears. 
“I think we’ll get along just fine...John?”  You questioned what name he wanted to be called.
“Sir.  Just sir.”
On the day of your appointment, he texted you the location and the key code for the door lock.  You found the building easily, and stepped into the elevator, double checking the apartment number to be sure you were in the right place.
When the code worked on the door to the fifth floor, you entered to find that it was someone’s home. 
The office of Life Connect 141 was in a nondescript office space on the outskirts of Canary Wharf, not far from your office.  If anyone spotted you, you could use the excuse of taking a meeting or doing your due diligence on a property you were looking to liquidate.
This, on the other hand, was well off the beaten path.  A restored factory building in a neighborhood you weren’t familiar with, but appeared to be up and coming judging by the activity along the street.  You’d already noted a few restaurants to try on the short walk from the Tube station and filed them away to pick up something to eat on your way home. 
A flat of this size and builder quality must have cost a premium, or else the owner bought in cheap before the neighborhood began to blossom.  It was well-appointed and comfortable.  Floor to ceiling windows that opened to look just above the shorter buildings next door.  Privacy from looking directly at your neighbors, but still connected to the bustling down below.
Once inside, you followed his directions to the letter.  You’d arrived early, dimmed the lights and set your bag on the hook by the door.  Cell phone ringer turned off and your shoes in the basket in the hall.
"I’ll leave what I want you to wear on a chair, you’ll know which one.  Wear nothing else.  There will be a pillow on the floor, you’ll know which one.  You’ll greet me on it."
As you moved in past the entryway, the remaining room was an open concept.  A kitchen with an attached dining area, and a living space on the opposite side.  Two plush sofas and an assortment of chairs and tables.  You didn’t know what to expect.  A pleasure room, maybe, or a dungeon of racks and toys.
It was just a living room.
Any nerves you’d been holding onto dissolved when you spotted the fabric draped across the lapis lazuli velvet wing-backed armchair.  Was that going to be his seat?  It was large enough to hold both of you comfortably...if you were on his lap.  It was certainly a statement piece.
The outfit he’d chosen was a simple, pink silk backless slip dress.  Not cheap satin, but the softest, sheerest gossamer.  You shivered as you stripped from your street clothes and gently settled the confection over your skin.  It barely covered your ass as you folded your things and hid them out of sight.
You briefly warred with whether to leave your hair up or down, deciding on the former, before you finally took a deep breath to center yourself.  Whatever happened next was out of your control.
When your knees met with the pillow at the foot of The Chair, your mind emptied and you felt the tension that you’d been carrying for weeks start to fade.  
Just in time to hear the click of the front door.
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one-idea · 4 months
Note
Here's an idea: time travel fix it, but the time traveller is Zeff.
Casually fixing what he can for his Eggplant's future Nakama, like bribing Mihawk with a nice wine to mention what Arlong is up to to Jimbe.
I love a time travel fix it with an unlikely hero. Because the Strawhats have a lot of information about what needs to be fixed. Their time travel fix it’s make sense. But the fun ones are their allies who know major events but don’t know everything.
(I saw someone try this with Mihawk and like the man only knows major events that the strawhats get into. Also he’s way more likely just to show up and watch the chaos while drinking wine.)
Zeff being sent back is so fun. 1) he’s a great character who obviously loves Sanji and would want to do what’s best for him. But also 2) he has no idea what half the inciting incidents are! How will he ever know what to stop?
He does have some information though. So let’s say he gets dropped 21 years in the past. He’s still a pirate. Ohara was just burnt last year and Rodger died 3 years ago (fact check me)
Most importantly Sanji is about to be born. His little eggplant is about to be born into one of the worst family on the sea. Well not if he has anything to say about it. He’s still Red-Leg Zeff, the pirate captain.
He knows they can’t do a full frontal assault but some sneaking around gets him to Sora. And a quick “how do you feel about taking all the kids and running?” She’s in. Anything to get them away from Judge.
And it’s stupid easy because they are babies who are only a few days old. Judge only cares about their test results he isn’t watching them. So Zeff and a few of his crew just nab Judges wife and kids, and quite a bit of loot.
Zeff is booking it out of there. But not without kick judge through at least one wall durning the escape.
He makes the decision to quiet the pirate life early. He’s got Sora and the kids to worry about. They open the Baratie early. He knows exactly which cooking staff he’s hiring.
As he separated from the crew he tells them that if they run into a girl named Nico Robin to bring her to him.
He starts establishing the Baratie as a location for all to dine in. But this time he’s focused on making connections. Keeping his thumb on the pulse of both pirate and government movement.
Raising the five kids he’s acquired along side Sora, the genetic programming takes but without it being supported as they grow eventually gets out of their systems. Sanji being the most in touch with his emotions followed by Reiju. Their brothers struggle with emotions but are a lot better and more adjusted than they are in cannon.
About two years into this restaurant one 11 year old Nico Robin is delivered by his old crew. The girl is super freaked out but he sits her down and tells her that’s she’s safe, he’s got ears everywhere and will know if the governmental coming after them, and he won’t let them take her. Plus who’s going to be looking for her at a high class restaurant. It also helps that he’s got a gaggle of children already so she can stay off the floor hanging out with the kids. Sora also dyes Robin’s hair purple and that with age is enough to make people not immediately recognize her from her bounty poster.
5 years later the red hair pirates a bouncing around the East blue and Zeff waits. Waits until one day Shanks comes in one arm short and bragging about his son. (It helps that Sanji and his siblings are helping out so Shanks and Zeff are just casually talking about their kids.) He grabs the captain and pulls him to the side and tells him that Luffy is in danger and that there is another little boy on that island, a boy who is the son of his old captain. Shanks thinks he’s crazy at first but he knows things about Luffy. The scar under his eye, and other things.
Enough to make shanks curious enough to turn around and find Luffy and his TWO new brothers. He quickly collects three children and returns to the Baratie. (Kicks door open while holding three children “you were right!” Zeff surprised by the third child but not mad) (I don’t think he knows about Sabo)
Luffy and Sanji get on like a house fire with Luffy loudly declaring that Sanji will one day join his crew as his chef. And Zeff is standing there watching them with a proud smile, because somethings are just meant to happen.
Meanwhile Shanks as turned to look at Zeff
“anything else I should know about?”
Zeff just snorts “a lot. You still friends with Hawkeyes or have you to made it official yet?”
(With the Baratie around earlier he had to witness young Shanks and Mihawk flirting, it was painful)
Shanks gets sad “he’s mad about well you know…” the missing arm. And Zeff feels bad about that but he had no clue how the man lost it in the first place so there was no way he could stop it.
“If you run into him tell him there’s a crazy kid in the east blue gunning for his title. If he wants to keep things interesting he might want to train him.” (The Baratie is Mihawk’s favorite establishment Zeff could also tell him but he has a feeling the swords master would listen to Shanks over him.)
This is how Mihawk shows up at a dojo where a 10year old Kuina and 9 year old Zoro are training. (A year before Kuina’s death) he sees their skill and hears Kuina’s father’s opinion about females and training. He knows it’s an opinion that is also popular in Wano where this man is obviously from, but it’s not the way the rest of the world works. He approaches and offers to take over the training of the girl “who won’t make anything of herself” and the “feral gremlin using sword handles for teething.” Kuina’s father isn’t to sure about all this but he can’t really refuse the greatest swordsman in the world nor will Kuina or Zoro stay once they hear about the offer.
Mihawk has now obtained one verbally polite girl who will break every rule the moment his back is turn and one backpack leash gremlin.
He and Shanks are regulars at the Baratie for parenting advice. Luffy meets Zoro’s and again claims him as part of the crew. Years later Zoro and Sanji argue over who will be the first official member (Sanji: Luffy asked me first! Zoro: but I was the first one to physically join the crew!)
But currently the three run a muck on the Baratie pulling pranks on their older siblings (Ace, Sabo, Kuina, and Reiju are all the same age) or just Sanji brothers (they are still learning emotions and will sometimes join in on the chaos, other times they are a rival faction but if they ever get to mean Luffy and Zoro put them in their place)
but eventually Luffy runs into Robin (she tries to stay out of the way as much as possible to not get the Baratie in trouble. Zeff tells her she doesn’t have to but Trauma is a thing) Luffy loves her instantly. She quitely reading a book and Luffy joins her for story time and she never gets mad at his interruption and is so patient with him. He looks at her with a grin of a small sun and tells her “when I’m captain you’re going to be on my crew!” Robin is a little freaked out because she doesn’t want to bring the world government down on this little boy. But Zeff talks to her later and tells her that Luffy isn’t a force that can be stopped. It takes time but in the next ten years Robin comes around to the idea of being on Luffy’s crew with Zoro and her little brother Sanji. As soon as Luffy claimed her he told the others. Sanji was pumped! Zoro just accept it but he comes around to really love Robin.
At the same time that the boys are all being adopted Zeff is making some calls and contacts. The Baratie has been open for over 9 years he’s got some high connections. He eventually gets a hold of Jimbei and tells him that Arlong is in the East Blue and causing trouble. (Arlong has just started in the East blue, Zeff has no clue of the time clock) he points Jimbei in the direction of Cocoyashi.
Jimbei gets their right at the time of Arlong raid in the village. He walks in right as Arlong and Bell-mére are having their confrontation. I don’t know exactly what happens (I haven’t met Jimbei yet) but he’s able to stop it.
Bell-mére asks how he knew they were in trouble and he tells them about the Baratie. The village wants to thank the man who alerted Jimbei so Bell-mére goes (she is a retired Marine and probably the best sailor.) and takes Nojiko and Nami with her. Of course Shanks is visiting with the boys and Luffy and Nami instantly hit it off. “This is my Navigator!!!” Shanks is laughing because the kids going to have a whole crew before he has a boat.
Once Luffy is ready to set sail he meets up with Zoro and the two head to the Baratie to pick up Nami, Sanji, and Robin. Zeff points them in the direction of Suyrup village to “get a ship” where they pick up Usopp and save Kaya. (This absolutely does not make Usopp’s feeling of inferiority worse by the time they get to Water 7. No way. It’s not like everyone else on the crew until Vivi and Chopper have known each other for 10 years. He’s not the odd man out in any way.)
Zeff doesn’t have a lot of information about their adventures so he can’t truly stop anything but he does know some thing. (Nami leaving the crew. Luffy and Zoro being from the east blue and having connections with Shanks and Mihawk (Mihawk totally goes the the Baratie to drink during the time skip. Zeff knows Zoro is his kid) he knows Ace is Roger’s son and that he dies. But he doesn’t know anything that isn’t in Sanji’s letters or the news paper (which is full of lies)
He makes the best decisions he can for Sanji.
He saves Sanji from Zeff as soon as possible
Accidentally saving Sora, Reiju, Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji
After Sanji set sail Zeff decides to expand the Baratie. It’s a chain
Patty and Carne take over the East blue branch
Reiju runs the one in the grandline.
Ichiji runs one in the west blue
Niji runs one in the south blue
The north blue doesn’t get one until Judge is dead they all agree on that
Yonji bounces from place to place helping as he is needed
Zeff and Sora open one in the New World.
Zeff might not know everything the Strawhats went through but he knows the major events and by having a home base in almost every sea he’s got ears everywhere. His old crew is still out there acting as ears for him and bring him news.
Anything he can help the Strawhats avoid or remove from their path he sends word
He tells Shanks about Ace.
Accidentally getting Luffy, Ace, and Sabo adopted
Saving Sabo from the Celestial dragons
Giving all three boys the chance to train with the Red Hair Pirates and learn Haki early while also getting a feel for the Grandline and New World
Ace’s death is prevented because he knows about Blackbeards plans and tells Ace to watch out for the man and to not trust him. It helps that Ace grew up with Shanks who never liked Blackbeard at all.
He tells Mihawk about Zoro
Kuina is accidentally saved
Both get to train with Mihawk far before their adventure. Mihawk loves it because the two are “trying to kill him” but they are also competing with each other and it’s MESSY they are so dramatic in their own weird way and he’s living for watching this gremlins fight while he drinks wine. When Perona shows up he finally has a goth child who wants to dress presentable and drink wine while making his other children. The family is complete.
He puts out feelers for Robin having no real hope she will show up
Accidentally gave her a loving home and help her feel safe while also preparing her for the adventure ahead.
He points Jimbei in Arlong direction. He has no clue what Arlong is truly up to.
Accidentally saves village
Saves Bell-mére’s life and kick starts the Strawhats.
The Strawhats still have a lot going on but because of advance trading some received as children and the stronger bonds.
He can’t do anything to Chopper, Franky, Brook or Usopp because their trauma is already passed Franky/Brook or he doesn’t know their stories well enough to intervene, Usopp/Chopper.
But he does make the safest home possible for his little eggplant.
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starkeygirlposts · 3 months
Text
Goosebumps in my sleeve
CH. 1
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So glad you guys loved the snippet last night! Here is the full fic! This is going to probably be a 2-3 chapter story. I hope it lives up to your expectations! Please interact and let me know!
Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.
*In this story, Rafe kills Peterkin after accidentally shooting Sarah
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader, toxic!rafe x reader
Trigger warnings: stepcest, underage, drugs, pregnancy, noncon, swearing, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, p in v sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, domestic violence, underage
Playlist:
Braided by Emily Rowed
Highlights by Sasha Alex Sloan
Atlantis by Seafret
Upside of Down by SVRCINA
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You'd had a mundane life until your dads affair came to light when you were sixteen years old. He'd met a women on a business trip flight, explaining it as a "connection he didn't have with Y/M/N." He'd explained his infidelities away by saying your mom paid him little attention, embarrassed him in front of their friends, belittled him, and said the love between them ceased to exist; solely because of your mom.
It wasn't like you knew the ins and outs of your parents love life as a teenager, but what you saw - or what they chose to show you, didn't seem like what your dad made it out to be. But there are always 3 sides to every story, so who were you to judge?
Especially when you'd ignored all the warnings you'd been given to stay clear from Rafe Cameron, much less date him. He was a senior and you were a freshman and people already had enough to say about that.
You'd began attending parties at his house during your freshman year of high school, and the playful flirtation between the two of you continued for a year before he finally made a move that the two of you couldn't come back from.
He was on the lookout for you every Friday or Saturday night, always a prepared favorite drink of yours ready in a red solo cup. He'd follow you around his house if not with his feet, with his eyes until one day his fingertips grazed your arm and draped down to your finger and tangled them together, showing to not only you, but everyone else around you that it was game over.
He'd taken you up to his room that same night and he ground his hips so deeply into yours that you were sure you lost your virginity that night. After telling your friends, who'd only laughed at your naivety, you realized you very much did not, and then you truly realized when the next Saturday night, he'd taken you to his room and peeled the clothing from both of your bodies and you'd connected as one. The way his fingers caressed your cheeks, your hair, your body, it was the biggest question in your mind why anyone would think Rafe Cameron was any bit the bad boy they had all made him out to be.
Talking about how quick to temper he was, how hot headed, how impulsive, how vulgar.
You had never witnessed any of that in your three years together. Whether he'd kept you at arms length or whether all it took was you coming into his life to change him, you weren't sure.
But today, Rafe Cameron who became your boyfriend when you were sixteen years old was not the Rafe Cameron who people referred to your step-brother at eighteen.
The complete opposite, really.
Rafe had always gone out of his way to be the sweetest, most thoughtful boyfriend you could have wished for. Stealing kisses in the hallways before the bell would ring, making sure you were safely seated before padding off to be late to each and every period.
Bringing you flowers every Sunday night with your favorite pint of ice cream, and always keeping your bedside table stocked with your favorite genre books and your favorite sour candies.
Keeping his arm draped protectively over you at parties, tender kisses to your forehead when things got too rowdy, whisking you away for alone time as the crowd started to clear.
Caressing your body affectionately during intimacy, squeezing your skin just enough to leave gentle love marks, keeping you in his arms after bringing you over the edge, asking you if you were okay after every entrance, and after being too rough when he was extra needy.
Kissing you like he'd never see you again, holding your jaw in his palm and telling you how much he loved his beautiful girl.
There was no end in sight for the two of you, and after spending so much time together, your mom had asked to meet his dad. You didn't think any more of it than her wanting to know the man whose home you spent more than half of your days at. Your mom had become extra clingy after the divorce, and you tried to do what you could. Asking her if she wanted to watch her favorite show together on Tuesday nights, bringing home her favorite Chinese food on your way back from Rafe's on earlier nights. You knew the affair nearly killed your mom, but you did not expect her to begin to lean on none other than your boyfriends dad.
Ward was the perfect fill-in for your mom for a while. She was just having a good time, she'd told you. "He occupies my mind Y/N, does that make me such a bad mom?" Like you being upset with your mother being however which way involved with your boyfriends dad was so out-of-this-world believable. Truth was, yes it made her a bad mom. Not just because it put you and Rafe in an uncomfortable position, but because you were struggling yourself after having your family as you knew it blown apart.
But she wasn't just "having a good time." Or rather, maybe she was having too good a time. Because on a Thursday evening at the Cameron's dinner table with Ward, your mom, Rafe, Sarah and Weezie, Ward held your moms hand and told you all that they were getting married.
You think your heart stopped at his words, and your neck snapped to your side to look at Rafe before doing or saying anything to anyone else. His eyes flashed to yours, and above your head, connecting with his father's in an expression you could only imagine was pure hatred. Because Rafe could never live up to his father in any sense, and now he was taking away the one thing that kept his feet planted to the earth. Of course he was.
That day, your world fell apart, and Rafe started to become someone you soon would not recognize. Rafe's hand had slipped from your thigh, gone the tender loving warm fingertips, drawing lazy hearts on your skin.
Your whole body jolted when Rafe's chair scraped like nails on the tile flooring, as he darted from the table outside to his truck, leaving you to pick up the pieces. How badly you'd wanted to chase after him. But when your eyes connected with Ward's, the decision was already made for you.
You didn't even need to ask.
"Unless you want to live with your father in California, you and Rafe will stop whatever it is you two have going on." Ward had told you.
"Whatever we have going on? We've been dating for three years!" You practically shout.
"Y/N!" Your mother shrieks, "Have some respect!" And you can see the tears shining in her eyes, a mirror of your own. Ward'd hand squeezes your mother's tighter, and he whispers to her that "it's okay, honey, it's going to take a moment to process."
You looked to your mom as if she'd help you - feel some semblance of remorse for you. Tears were streaking down your face now, your finger gripped to your napkin on your lap like you were suffocating it. You'd met Rafe first. Three years ago. You'd been the only reason your mother even met Ward. But why should you be so surprised that what she wanted was more important than your happiness?
From that day on, Rafe started slowly slipping from you. You'd told him what Ward had told you, expecting him to scoff and tell you how he only thought he'd stay away from you. But that was exactly what Rafe began to do. Once you received the news, you and your mom were moving into Tanney Hill, your bedroom just across the hall from Rafe's. A bitter tease dangling in front of you. The love of your life, your best friend, your saving grace, so close but so far, sworn away from you.
Rafe started to become a hollow shell of the boy you loved so deeply and painfully. Loving him so hard physically caused your heart to ache, watching him from a distance fall away from you, and out of love with you felt like your body slowly shutting down. Like your brain was shutting off and the rest of your organs being deprived of the oxygen it needed to keep functioning. Your hands ached to touch his body, hold his hand in your own. You watched as he'd drink himself to sleep every Friday and Saturday night, seated on the living room sofa 90% of the night with Topper and Kielce, using his AMEX black card to line the cocaine before rolling up a hundred dollar bill and snorting into his left nostril, jolting his head back and pinching his nostrils as his eyes screwed closed, before opening back up and meeting yours.
You'd hold his stare until your feet walked you in front of him with your hands on your hips, brushing the beers to the floor and bending down to meet your eyes at the same level.
"Y/N, you want me to stop? What, to make you happy? What do you do anymore that makes me happy?" You'd touch his cheek and guide his head down to make his eyes meet yours, and you'd stare into them - hoping for a shimmer of your boyfriend to snap back and remember.
He'd shrug away from you, his shoulder harshly snapping back and his hand brushing yours off to leave you watching his hair fall over his eyes as he'd resume slowly killing not only himself, but you too. But this brutal coldness didn't stop him from sneaking into your room past midnight to have sex with you. Not that you wish he'd stop, because you so badly craved his touch, eager for it any way he'd offer it. Mean, rough, kind, tender; you'd take any of him just to feel connected.
He'd almost always wait by your closed door for you to sit up in your bed, his invitation that it was okay to come to you. But some nights, he'd be so impatient to touch you, the alcohol and drugs adding to his hunger to be close to you.
You had almost gotten caught a handful of times, whether it be Sarah or your mom, knocking because they were sure they’d heard something, Rafe nearly knocking over everything on his way to shuffle himself into the closet.
You’d put off the conversation with Rafe about why the two of you needed to continue on like this, but you knew Rafe would never willingly disobey his father, and when you told him that Ward had threatened to ship you off to California, Rafe told you there was no way that was happening. But this was before the drugs consumed all of his extra time, before he’d started picking fights with anyone who would dare to fight back, before he’d become a ticking time bomb. Now, you weren’t sure he’d care if you fell off the planet. Gone were the times he’d tell you how much he loved you, how beautiful you were, how he didn’t care about what his dad said, that you were his girl, and he’d fight for you.
That did happen after that night at the dinner table. When Rafe finally arrived back at Tanney Hill, he’d found you in the library with Ward, discussing things and when he heard the same words that Ward had told you, he didn’t dare to speak up. But when you were alone, he told you not to worry about it, that you’d be okay and it wouldn’t change anything. That you just had to be careful and wait until you were eighteen and you would get a place together and not need his dad or your mom and you could have your own lives. But that didn’t exactly happen the way you two had planned. With the hunt for the cross at the forefront of absolutely everything, everyone was on edge, constantly battling with one another, making decisions that you couldn’t come back from.
It came to a head when Rafe had accidentally shot Sarah, and he slithered through the front door of the estate covered in blood and mud and you rushed to his side to search for where it was coming from, the worry sweating out of your pores, until he grabbed your arms too tight for comfort and told you to stop. You rubbed your arms as he shoved you off to the side, before climbing the steps to his bathroom to clean up. Your eyes followed him all the way up, tears springing forward, before the noise behind you bringing you back and meeting eyes with your step father who would fill you in on it all. He’d told you how Rafe was not himself, how he was explosive and you needed to stay away from him at every turn. How he’d shot his sister, and that he didn’t care that he did. Your head lightly shook “no”, as the tears spilled over, splashing onto your chest as you broke down in Ward’s arms.
The boy you loved was seemingly gone, and not even his father could bring him back.
You’d seen the relationship between Rafe and Ward deteriorate, boiling over after Peterkin was killed. It was something you knew but couldn’t bring yourself to think about. There was only one reason Ward didn’t trust Rafe to do things on his own after she was gunned down. You knew Rafe had access to guns and you knew Peterkin stood in the way of your family getting the gold off of the island. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. But would you ever ask about it? Never. Because that wasn’t the Rafe you loved. He couldn’t have done that. So he simply didn’t. That’s what you told yourself anyway.
You remember back to that night in particular, nearly 2 months ago, after he’d cleaned himself up and Ward had asked you to bring his dinner up to his room. You cautiously hammered your fist onto his bedroom door, not even getting the second rap in before it swung open, the wind blowing back your hair and his face only inches from yours, his pupils blown and his hands on your arms, dragging you into the room with him. “Put it down”, he’d told you and you placed the tray with his dinner onto the ottoman in the corner of the room, before his hand turned your body back around to him, crashing his lips to yours while holding your hips, squeezing feverishly.
“Rafe, you’re hurting me.” You’d tried to say, pushing your body backward, his hands coming up to hold your lower back to drag you closer.
“Shut up.” He spun you both around before moving his hands to your shoulders to shove you down onto the bed, before running his hands up your calves and thighs, dragging your linen dress with them, all the way up until your breasts were exposed and his hands roughly squeezed them, earning a mumbled cry of pain.
“Rafe, stop!” Your hands gripped his wrists as you tried to pry them off of you before his hand came up and slapped you across your face. Your mouth hung open and tears sprung to your eyes and you brought your hand up to slap him back. His hands caught both of your wrists and forced them up by the sides of your head, before bringing his face down to yours.
“I fucking want you, can’t you see that? I need you right now, y/n."
“Fuck you, Rafe! I’ve been here this entire time!” You’re breath is a whisper but your seething at him and his chest is rising and falling rapidly, eyes boring into yours, tears brimming his eyes before connecting his lips with yours and letting go of your wrists to drag your panties to the side and shove two fingers inside you.
“Oh my god. Jesus.” Your head rises off the mattress to meet him now that he’s hanging above you, before wrapping your hands around his neck and dragging him back down to you and panting into his mouth. Breath hot, you tell him you need him too.
His fingers move in and out of you, curling to pet the spongey spot inside of you over and over, your voice mewling “please’s” and “oh my god, yes” until you hear him shuffling with his pants, and your feet come up to hook into the sides of his pants, helping him drag them down his legs.
“Please get inside me.” You beg, your voice a strained sigh of relief mixed with utmost pleasure as his fingers leave your core to replace them with his cock. Your whole body rises off the bed, your chest meeting with his, nipples like daggers against his skin as he sinks down until he bottoms out and he groans. You’re nearly positive the entire house can hear you, but after what’s gone on tonight that you have no idea about, you’re not sure anyone actually cares.
His breath is hot against your face, and he’s watching you with intensity you don’t know if you’ve ever seen in his eyes before, his hips pulling back only to push back twice as slowly, the glide of his cock in your slick heat pulling the deepest moan from your throat, and you moan the prettiest “oh” the thinks he’s ever heard. Your nails are gripping his biceps, now hooked under your knees, his palms by your head, thighs spread back nearly to your chest and you look down to watch him drag himself out of you achingly slow before he tells you to “look at me” and you do, your eyes meeting his and you’re both crying together, tears falling and noses dripping. Your pussy is throbbing and your hands are clutching, your mouth moaning and your heart dying.
You’ve continued this sick relationship with Rafe for a year, growing into adults together in the most backward way. Sneaking around, falling out of love, but staying so desperately in love with who he used to be, begging him to get clean, trying to understand him, keep him from killing himself, trying to mend the relationship between him and his father; or rather, trying to salvage what was left of it.
You couldn’t imagine stopping, though. You couldn’t give him up - not really, not the way you were supposed to. You would have been an embarrassment to the Cameron name if you had continued dating your now step-brother. Even though people were aware of your relationship prior to your mom and Ward getting together. Marriage precedes dating, and so they won the battle. You think that this was Rafe’s way of fighting for you. Or rather, fighting his dad for you. Because he’d taken you away from him, so instead of being an embarrassment to his father by dating his step-sister, he’d become the drug addict family fuck up instead. You knew the truth though. Rafe had never experienced love until you. And then his father took that away, just like he did everything else in Rafe’s life.
“You know I love you, Rafe. I will always love you.” You tell him, taking longer than intend to, your breath short and sad.
He doesn’t say anything back to you, but his hand catches your jaw and he brings your face to his, lips in a sneer. “You will always be mine. You can try to act like you aren’t, but you are. I fucking own you. I will always own you.” He tells you before kissing your lips. You pull back and grasp his wrist in your hand.
“I know you love me, too. Say it, tell me you love me. Fucking say it."
You feel him cum inside of you before he manages to say anything, remorse filling your blood stream and your eyes shut tightly at the bitter defeat. You’d allowed him into your body and your heart without him having earned any of what you’d just confessed. You know he knows you still love him, and you know he still loves you. But he’s tried his hardest to show you that he doesn’t.
You tremble, over sensitive when his fingers find your cunt and push back inside, watching you with intent as he lazily glides his cum back inside of you. He’s watching you almost like he’s studying you, his head tilting when your head tilts in a mix of desire and discomfort, his fingers buried knuckle deep inside you. You gush around him and he kisses you, lips hovering over yours.
“Of course I love you, my beautiful girl. How could I not love you? Miss you so bad it fucking hurts."
That night tipped the see-saw of back and forth between the two of you, caution to the wind, Rafe would come to you more nights than not, and he’d fuck you on your bed before telling you how much he loved you and slipping out before the sun rose.
“Gonna get clean for you.” He told you one night, and you nodded under his palm as he held you close, begging him. “Please, Rafe. I can’t be in this by myself."
So when you'd texted Rafe to meet you in your room after dinner on Thursday night one year after your world truly blew apart, he locked the door behind him and the black in his eyes told you he couldn’t keep his promise. You kept hold of his gaze until his knees hit the bed, your small hand coming up to his chest before he could press his own to your sturnum before pushing you down, your other hand clutching your lifeline. You look up at him and when you lock eyes, he understands, because he takes your hand from his chest and squeezed it in his own before leaning down to touch his lips to yours.
"I miss you, baby. My beautiful girl."
You want to yell at him, swat his hands away as they come up to cradle your face, but you’re too overwhelmed, too hormonal, too busy in your mind to do anything but melt into his warm touch, safe and protected.
His breath comes hot against your mouth, his scent so familiar and home to you. You can't stop the tears from falling, your hand loosening from his hand to hold onto his forearm that connected to the fingers clutching your cheek tenderly but firmly in place, kissing you like he really does love you again.
How badly you missed him, too.
"Rafe, please..."
Your hand falls and one of his breaks from your cheek, and you take this moment to capture his hand with your fingers and place the stick into his palm. His eyes break away from yours to look down at what you've given him, and you watch with tears streaming down your face as his brows furrow, his feet shuffling to back up and you brace yourself.
He doesn't react how you expect him to, though. He stares so deeply down into his palm that when his eyes do reconnect with yours, confusion in his own eyes, his head tilting just the slightest and you're trembling, waiting for the shoe to drop. He sniffs, rubbing his nose, clearing any remains of his relapse out of your sight. His mouth opens before closing, brow furrowing as he snorts, a half chuckle, his hand coming up into his hair to rake his bangs back, scratching the back of his neck.
"This...this is a -- you're..." His eyes screw up shut and he shakes his head like he's imagining things and he's crazy. "A baby?" He finally asks, looking up at you again and you can only nod.
"My baby?" He asks again, and you nearly scoff, because really? Was he kidding? Who else was sneaking into your room after midnight, invading your body and your heart?
"Yes, Rafe, I'm pregnant with your baby.” You tell him, seething before standing and he's still shaking his head, eyes bunching up as if he's being told the craziest thing in the world - because really, he is. But you've sat with this for the entire day and while your reaction wasn't as confused, you too felt the familiar disbelief.
You watch his chest rise and fall, deep breaths in and out before you're in a whirlwind and he closes the distance between you and pulls you to him, tucking your head underneath his chin, the back of your skull rested protectively in his large palm. His lips are at your forehead when he tells you
"I'm going to take care of it."
You raise your head from his hand and your eyes lock on his to question him. “What does that mean? Take care of it?” You’re suddenly timid, your hand instinctively coming to rest on your lower abdomen.
“They’re not keeping me from my kid, y/n. Fuck that.” He tells you, watching your eyes soften and thank god. Not that you would have been surprised if Rafe suggested you take care of it. Now that you have a moment to collect yourself, you realize it’s actually what you expected from him. Maybe not from the sweet boy who held your hand on the beach when you were sixteen, but from the man who stood before you now.
“You want this?” he suddenly asks you, and you look up at him after realizing your eyes are locked on his chest, and you tell him honestly. “I don’t know what to do with a baby, your baby…we - how can we keep this baby?” You whisper, eyes pleading wide and scared, suddenly full of fear and you try pulling away from him, but his arms lock around you and keep you steady to him as you huff with exhaustion. “Rafe, please let me go, I need to go, I…"
“Shhhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you, it’s okay, baby I promise it’s going to be okay.” He tells you and you believe him, high or not, you cling to him, fingers tugging at his shirt, your tears and snot mixing together on the fabric, not caring how you look or how you sound, because what the fuck are you going to do now?
“Y/N, please don’t cry. I’m going to make this okay. I swear, I’m going to make this okay.” You look up and into the eyes of your whole world. The boy turned man that you so deeply love. Your boyfriend turned step brother. The one whose hands are bloodied from trying to protect his father who ripped everything away from him every chance he could. How can you believe him? Were you going to run away with a murderer who you’ll knowingly harbor for the rest of your life? What you don’t truly know will kill you - you know that. You know you’d pick up and leave this place - your mom included if it meant being with Rafe. You’d told him that the night he came back after the wedding bomb. But he couldn’t tell you the same, and so he’s ridden down this path of self destruction, danger, evil, and crime just to protect the one person who has caused him so much pain. And not only him, but you too.
You could handle being hurt by Rafe, and even by Ward. But you couldn’t handle the idea of carrying and birthing a perfectly innocent baby that was half you and half the wounded and hurting boy who just wanted to be loved by the only parent he had left. So only one question swirled in your mind.
Would he let his father cause your child pain, too?
——
NEXT PART
Please let me know what you think, and if you’d like to be added to the tag list!
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justiceamberheard · 6 months
Text
''Who Trolled Amber'' podcast
The highlights of each episode from the podcast. You can listen to it on Spotify, Youtube etc. EPISODE 1.
The outcome of the trial definitely damaged #METOO movement;
There were 80k of anti Amber Heard tweets, more than anti JD tweets even though AH was the one who accused him of abuse;
There's no way it was all organic, they either bought bots or those were real people pretending to be JD's supporters;
According to Jennifer Robinson, one of AH lawyers from the UK trial, Amber'd never wanted to relieve what had happened to her during the relationship;
Jennifer thought it'd be easier to win the US than in the UK;
The information about bots were thrown out way before the trial hence Ron Shnell couldn't talk about in the courtroom; EPISODE 2.
According to Ron Shnell there was a bot campaign against AH but he wasn't 100% sure because the judge struck out that research;
Kathryn Arnold shared that AH wasn't allowed to be a part of Aquaman 2 promotion tour and was banned from posting anything Aquaman related;
KA also said that AH couldn't audition, no one would hire her and that the agents were told not to touch her[AH]; EPISODE 3
The podcast creators asked experts(Kai-Cheng Yang) to check the date that was given by Ron Shnell;
According to the data: many accounts with no followers had tweets with more than 5k retweets/likes; hundreds of identical tweets were posted in one day; many accounts liked 400k tweets; 10k of identical comments were left under AH youtube videos; many accounts change their tune(from right wing Chile politics) and out of nowhere started to post pro JD tweets; half oh the data/accounts/tweets were generated by inauthentic accounts and then the real accounts started to engage with those tweets etc. it all started in November 2020 when JD lost the UK case and was fired from Fantastic Beasts; EPISODE 4
Cameron Herrin case was mentioned, more specifically the sudden interest and pro CH posts on TikTok asking to reduce his sentence and that he is innocent. Most of the accounts that were spreading those posts were from Middle East; EPISODE 5
Some Arabic twitter accounts suddenly started to tweet Pro JD tweets in English during and after the US trial;
The friendship betweet Johnny Depp and prince Mohammed was mentioned(him financing JD directorial movie Modi); EPISODE 6
Adam Waldman worked for Lavrov as a consultant for years(2010-2017);
During the deposition Adam Waldman refused to answer more than 70 questions;
Alexi Mostrous tried contacting ''the internet journalists'' aka TUG and ThatBrianFella but they didn't answer; he also pointed out that the audios that were posted by ThatBrianFella were clearly edited(we know);
Mostrous also tried to call Adam Waldman but he didn't pick up the phone and 25 minutes later posted a tweet:
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“He[Adam Waldman] attacked witnesses, he attacked us (legal team)..unlike anything I have ever seen from a lawyer” said Jennifer Robinson. ''Amber Heard wrote an Op-ed for Washington Post which is a very respected publication and Johnny Depp's name isn't in it. It told to survivors if this can be done to a woman whose actually well-known and well-established person in the industry, it's gonna be even worse for you.'' All-in-All, it's clear as day that Waldman was behind the bot campaign against Amber. We've known that but it's good that a popular podcast researched about it and shed a light on it. Plus it's always great to see JD fans being nervous and panicky.
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Maybe in Another Life |4|
Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Hunter of Artemis!Reader
Summary: You are a Hunter of Artemis, but you start to question what you truly want when you meet Clarisse and get to know her.
Warnings: Slight Titans Curse Spoilers
Word Count: 2.6k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9 | ch. 10 | ch. 11 | ch. 12 | ch. 13 | ch. 14 | ch. 15 | ch. 16 | ch. 17
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“Just let me come,” you whisper yelled at Zoe. The sun had just started to come up and though all the Hunters were awake, the rest of the camp wasn’t.
“No,” Zoe whispered back harshly. “We went over this. You are needed here; you are in charge when Artemis and I aren’t around.”
“That was before Phoebe got sick,” you pointed to the bed where the other Hunters were taking care of Phoebe. The shirt the campers had gifted her had been laced with something making her sick and it was going to take to long for her to recover, the others needed to leave for the quest now.
“This doesn’t change anything. We’ll just do it with four.”
“The quest demands five.” You crossed your arms, daring Zoe to argue with you. The prophecy said five and though prophecies could be miss leading the one thing they tended to get right was the number of people involved. Trying to defy a prophecy tended to not work out.
“I need you here and I’m not taking anyone else. Now, we have to go.” Zoe nodded at Bianca who quickly grabbed her bag and went out the door to wait.
“Zoe-”
“My decision is final,” Zoe snapped. “Am I clear?” she stepped closer, looking up at you. You were taller, you were older, but that didn’t change the fact that Zoe was in charge.
“Understood,” you said.
With that Zoe swung her bag over her shoulder and marched out the door. You unclenched your jaw and slowly breathed out through your nose before following after her. You might not have been allowed to go on the quest but that didn’t mean you weren’t still going to see them off like you always did. You were silently hoping the dread you had been feeling ever since Artemis left on her mission was you just being paranoid and now with Zoe you wanted to write it off as being petty about not being able to go on the quest yourself.
As a daughter of Nike you desired victory, almost above all else, it was an issue many times. You had gotten better since joining the Hunters and Artemis helped show you victory wasn’t everything, though you still desired to win and be on top at the end of the day. Winning wasn’t the only thing being a child of Nike gave you though, you also could usually judge who would come out victorious in certain situations.
Whether it be watching a game, a sparing session, or watching two sides fight a war, Nike was always there. Nike could sense which side would come out on top. It’s one of the reasons, while Nike was seen with both Ares and Athena, she was usually more connected with being at Athena’s side. Ares loved a good fight and though he enjoyed winning, he didn’t really care one way or another, as long as the fight was good. Athena, however, was all about strategy and that usually led to her victory. Nike chose whose side to be at based on who was more likely guaranteed victory, she could sense it.
With this quest, a feeling had brewed inside you and had since stayed there. If you were to focus on it, you would find that you were sure that the quest would be a success. You could sense that the group would be victorious in their mission. However, you knew the victory, like most victories in time of war, would come at a great cost. Winning was usually everything, but there was something tugging at the back of your mind telling you that this time, despite the victory that loomed ahead, you’d rather take the lost, for you did not want to pay the price of this victory.
You followed Zoe and Bianca up to the entrance of Camp Half-Blood, seeing Thalia standing next to the tree she once was. “Reminiscing about old times?” you snarked unable to help yourself.
Thalia turned, taking her hand away from the tree it had been resting on. She only offered a glare before dismissing you and solely looking at Zoe. “Are we ready?” she asked, her arms crossed.
“Yes,” Zoe answered.
Zoe turned to you, ready to say something, but you were looking around at the group before you. “Aren’t you missing-”
“I’m here!” Grover yelled, running up to all of you as he struggled getting his bag over his shoulder. “I’m here,” he said again. He rested his hands on his hips as he began taking deep breaths after running all the way from wherever he had come from.
Zoe looked down at the wheezing satyr. You were starting to think maybe you were lucky for not going on the quest. “Let’s move,” Zoe said, turning on her heel and already marching off without the others.
“Zoe!” you called out. She turned, looking up at you from where she stood on the hill. You stared at her, trying to find the words you wanted to say. You ended up not needing to say anything, Zoe already knowing what you wanted to say gave you a nod.
You stood at the top of the hill, watching them set off until they disappeared from your line of sight once they hit the woods. You let out a sigh before turning and making your way back down the hill into camp. You didn’t bother going back to the cabin, you already knew you wouldn’t be any help to Phoebe so you might as well stay out of the way. Besides, you needed a distraction, your mind was already spiraling with what could potentially happen on the quest, what might happen to Zoe, and what Artemis must be going through.
You made your way to the training area, picking out a dummy on the far end. You unsheathed your sword and swung, nailing the dummy in the neck. You dealt blow after blow onto the poor training dummy, the wood was beginning to splinter.
“So, they left for the quest,” a voice interrupted your training dummy demolishing. You spun around, slashing the blade down onto the dummy’s neck causing a crack to echo throughout the still sleeping camp. With your sword still in hand you turned to see Percy standing there. He had wide eyes as he looked behind you at the nearly decapitated dummy. “Chiron won’t be happy.”
You rolled your eyes, the last thing you cared about was what Chiron thought. “It’s a training dummy, it’s literally what it’s meant for.” Percy didn’t say anything, he just stood there shifting from one foot to another. “What are you doing here? It’s barely morning.” You gestured around to the still dark sky; the sun was just beginning to peak up over the horizon.
“Look, I get you’re a Hunter,” he said defensively, waving his hands around, “and you hate all men.” You rested the hand still holding the sword on your hip as you raised an eyebrow at him. “But, you don’t even know me! We’ve never even had a real conversation. I don’t think it’s fair to judge me based on-”
“Have you ever considered,” you interrupted him. “That I don’t hate all men and me not liking you, is solely to do with you?”
Percy opened and closed his mouth a few times before settling on a frown. He looked up at you with wide eyes as he pouted. You rolled your eyes; it wasn’t like you were going to take it back or apologize. Percy was a tad annoying when you first met him and then the other day, he had the audacity to question your shooting skills, he might as well be an enemy for life after that.
“Not everyone likes you,” another voice interrupted the two of you. You looked up while Percy whipped around, nearly tripping over his own feet. “You should be used to that by now,” Clarisse looked Percy up and down as she approached you.
You looked at Percy as he just stood there staring at Clarisse, pouting. You raised an eyebrow wondering if he would get the hint, but you got the impression he was rather oblivious. Clarisse crossed her arms and continued to glare at him. “Why are you still here?” she snapped, causing Percy to jump from the sudden outburst. “Bye!” she gestured away with her hand which Percy took as his cue and ran off back towards the cabins.
It was still dark, the sun taking its time to rise. Percy never managed to answer you as to why he was wandering around so early. You didn’t really care; you wouldn’t be surprised if Percy had been intending to sneak off. He was bummed, he couldn’t go on the quest and the only thing on his mind seemed to be rescuing his friend.
Clarisse glanced over your shoulder at your mostly decapitated dummy. “Not bad,” she shrugged. “But a training dummy isn’t exactly a moving target.”
“Is that a challenge?” you questioned, your eyes lighting up with excitement. A fun and intense sparring session is exactly the kind of thing that could get you to stop thinking about Zoe and the quest.
She cocked her head to the side with a smirk. “Think you can keep up? This isn’t going to be some fun little,” she wiggled her hand, “bow and arrow trick.”
You chuckled, knowing she had no idea what she was getting herself into. “I thought you would have learned your lesson during capture the flag, guess not,” you sighed. “I’ll even give you an advantage,” you smirked. “You can choose the weapons.”
Clarisse clenched her jaw; you wouldn’t be surprised if she was grinding her teeth. You awaited her response with a smirk. “Swords,” she finally said through gritted teeth.
You silently laughed. “Okay.” You gestured for her to lead the way and you followed behind her. You were surprised she didn’t argue with you about you kicking her ass the day before. You were going to take it as her knowing you were right.
When you got to the sparring ring Clarisse walked to one side while you walked to the other. You watched as she pulled out her sword, examining it and twirling around in her hand. You looked down at your own sword, extending your arm as you played with the balance until Clarisse was ready. You turned to check on her to see she was turning to face you. You both stood across from each other at opposite ends before you each took a step into the ring at the same time.
You and Clarisse circled each other in the sparring ring. You twirled the sword in your hand as you watched her movements carefully. Just because it was sparring didn’t mean you’d let her win. A bow and arrow might have been the preferred weapon of Artemis and her Hunters but all of you were skilled in a variety of weapons. You might not have remembered much about your time before you became a Hunter, but you did remember the first weapon you ever picked up, the first weapon you ever killed a monster with was a sword. The bow and arrow was an extension of yourself now, a second arm, but picking up a sword was like greeting an old friend.
Your sword was one of the only things you carried from mortal life to your immortal one. You left everything behind, only taking the sword you now currently held in your hands. The sword was a relatively simple thing, well simple compared to something like Percy’s, yours didn’t turn into a pen at your convenience or reappear in your pocket no matter where you seemingly lost it. The blade was celestial bronze, like most demigod weapons, the hilt was steel, with a golden laurel wreath on each side of the pommel. You had it specially made from a blacksmith or maybe it was a child of Hephaestus, you couldn’t really remember, it had been a thousand years after all. Whoever forged it, you had them place laurel wreaths to represent your mother, to represent your impending victory.
You knew you wouldn’t have to wait long, children of Ares were impatient, as well as cocky and arrogant. Clarisse would make her first move and that would set your eventual victory into motion. As if on cue Clarisse swung her sword, you smirked as you brought your sword up, your blade meeting hers in a loud clash. You gripped your sword tightly before pushing back, forcing Clarisse to step back. She glared at you before making her next move.
Clarisse swung, you blocked. She swung at you, you blocked again. The two of you fell into a dance of slashing and blocking each other. You eventually gave in, swinging at her occasionally, you didn’t always play the defensive. You knew Clarisse was good in a fight, she had a powerful swing, but you were curious if she was just as good at defending herself. Being good in a fight was meaningless if you couldn’t protect yourself. You could be the best fighter in the world, but it didn’t matter if you couldn’t block a simple attack.
“How long have you guys been out here?” a feminine voice asked.
You and Clarisse just clashed swords, holding them against each other as both of you turned to see Silena approaching you. You and Clarisse each released your hold and turned to fully greet Silena. You and her had apparently been at it for a while, the sun had fully risen and there were other campers beginning to walk about around camp. You glanced at Clarisse to see she seemed just as shocked, neither of you had been aware of the passing time, the two of you were so engaged in your sparring match.
“It’s time for breakfast,” Silena said. “And you have to eat something,” she pointed an accusatory finger at Clarisse.
Clarisse rolled her eyes but nodded, nonetheless. She had her sword resting at her side as she tried to catch her breath. You didn’t realize how exhausted you were until the two of you stopped. You looked over at the daughter of Ares then down at yourself seeing that both of you were dripping in sweat.
“Uh oh, someone’s in trouble with the girlfriend,” you joked, not able to help but take another shot at her.
Clarisse flicked a glare at you. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“You too!” Silena moved her accusatory finger towards you. “Breakfast important! And she is not my girlfriend,” she looked at Clarisse as if the idea of dating the girl horrified her.
“Yeah, cause she’s to busy being in love with Beckendorf,” Clarisse teased, smirking at her friend’s reddening face.
“I told you that in confidence,” Silena stepped forward, slapping Clarisse in the arm. There wasn’t enough force in the slap to hurt Clarisse, but she did stumble back, but not without laughing at Silena’s antics. “Let’s go,” she demanded. “And you’re joining us,” she pointed at you, narrowing her eyes so you knew there would be arguing or getting out of it.
You and Clarisse both shared a look, having the same thought about Silena. Regardless the two of you followed Silena to the dining pavilion. All of you gathered up breakfast on your plates, making your offering to the gods before taking a seat at one of the tables. It was still early enough that the pavilion wasn’t filled with campers. It almost felt weird how normal it felt sitting at a table other than the one designated for Hunters of Artemis. You had planned to sit quietly as Clarisse and Silena talked but Silena kept including you in the conversation until the three of you eased into a discussion, both of them asking about your travels with your goddess, the adventures you’d been on, and all the monsters you’ve slayed.
Taglist: @cxcilla
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sugusoneandonly · 6 months
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Quixotic - STSG - ch 1
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satosugu x fem!reader . ft. model!gojo & designer!geto
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!! do not repost/copy on any other platform !! if u do at least lmk where and give creds 😒 !! pls don’t tho <3
cw: power dynamics/imbalance?? ,, established!stsg (no cheating) ,, webtoon inspired & lwk self-indulgent 😞 ,, y/n may be unlikable idk ntm on her guys 🥰
exes to lovers (gojo) ,, one-sides enemies to lovers w geto ,, very feminine + slight meek reader??
a/n!! :: hi this is my first fic ,, have mercy <33
some prior info for now i will add more later (and clean it up)
- not much of an age gap, suguru is js very successful at a young age.
- takes place 2 years after their breakup (mc | satoru)
- y/n is currently a fashion major in her final year of college and fortunately lives near her college and the shadowing program.
- the general plot is y/n is shadowing (following around, studying, etc. not rlly working for him
- NOTTT really real life accurate 🥰
Had you known that coming across your biggest idol would come along with meeting your oh so beloved ex, you would’ve thrown away whatever dreams had clouded your ambitious mind. Yet lo and behold, in front of you stood one of the most renowned fashion designers in the industry with your ex-boyfriend hanging off of him as a price tag (a very expensive tag for that matter).
Suguru Geto stood with pride as his spine and extravagance as his feet, hair that could’ve been painted with the midnight sky half up while the rest cascaded down his back. With an arm on his shoulder, and hair that would make the moon had Suguru’s been the sky, stood Satoru Gojo, your beloved ex. Both men dressed to the nines, outfits that were worth your monthly rent each.
You had cursed the creak of the door that had announced your entrance when you saw them. Gojo however, remained unaware of the stress that climbed your body. Instead, his lifted his eyes to meet yours, blinking back yet letting a small grin tickle his face. “Y/N!” his voice had drawn Suguru’s eyes to follow his line of sight like a siren.
Now, you and Gojo hadn’t had a horrendous break-up (although it’s after affects on you weren’t quite so), in fact it was rather peaceful (while it lasted). Gojo had called your 2 years of love off when he decided that he wanted to pursue a bigger, grander, future, one that apparently hadn’t included you. While he had wanted to go out, meet new people, flitter about the industry, the strain of a relationship had left awkward stains on his work. Especially certain modeling gigs that made him some extra cash.
It was your final year out of college and as one of the top students in your major, you had been provided a shadowing opportunity with various fashion designers to mentor the new rising generation of fashion. However, the pairings were randomized and the last person you’d expect to be yours was one of the greatest and youngest designers, who was also rumored to be your exes lover. How romantic. You had come across Geto’s work originally in a magazine for your project, and had looked him up online. While doing your extended research, you had seen the bright face of Gojo on several of his posts wearing his designs. Immediately you fell in love with his success, ethic, and designs. Dresses so intricate and suits embellished, as if they had walked straight of the manhwas you read.
Geto’s brow had raised at the mention of your name, no doubt familiar with it and the story that may have came with it. His eyes pierced through you, a small hum and what appeared to be a shadow of discontent danced over his face before it went away. He had leaned closer into Gojo after a thorough inspection of you. the rumors hold true then
“Hi.” slipped through your lips at last, however, meek. You feel 12 again showcasing your painting to the old judges in an art contest. Not an ounce of professionalism. Perhaps it wasn’t to late to run out yet.
“Y/N? I heard lots about you” Suguru’s voice came out like silk drowned in a snakes hiss, anxiety bubbled in your blood. “Good things I hope..I look forward to working with you..?” His lack of facial response had you lost in which direction to move this conversation. Instead of a response he simply hummed at looked back at the paper in his hands. Gojo, just as awkward standing beside him.
I wanna go home
©sugusoneandonly 2024
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nuemanfilms · 2 months
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Supe reunion (ch.1)
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C.w - short chapter (sorry), angst, mention of payback, fem!reader calls Ben ‘Sir’, not much really, multiple parts to this, 500 words. No italics this chapter!!
Summary - Ben and Fem!reader finally reunite after 40 years of torture from the russians.
Ch. 2
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You thought he would hate you. But here he was, in front of you, with no intention of hurting you. He was just, staring.
As soon as The Boys found out you were alive with Ben. Butcher figured why not just let you both out, you’d both suffered already. You also overheard Butcher and Hughie talking about Ben’s plan. He wanted to kill the rest of Payback.
Payback, that fucking team betrayed Ben, or also known as Soldier Boy. Sent him to the Russians for termination. You? You were his loyal fucking side kick. You obeyed him, you never even bothered to judge him for his humor, his personality. You saw who he was underneath that damn helmet, and you never judged him. You were like an anchor to him, you guided him to a greater light. And sure, his fuckin’ teammates were traitors. But you? He knew. He remembered your screams.
He didn't dare make a sound. He just stood there.
After a few moments of silence, you spoke up, “Sir, I didn’t- I didn’t want this to happen. God, i’m so stupid, I didn’t want this to happen to you-“ You were on the verge of tears, and he could tell. He cut you off.
“I know you didn’t, Doll.” He said simply, as if he was fighting back emotions from showing. But he knew you could see what was beneath his facade.
“C’mere,”
You didn’t hesitate in leaning forward into his arms, you tried to hold back your tears to not dampen his jersey shirt, but he let you cry. Your sobs echoed in the empty Motel room.
Hughie and Butcher were out, trying to find the rest of Ben’s team. But at that moment, it didn’t matter. All it mattered was you were in the arms of the man you so badly needed.
Ben’s coos, they helped you calm down, they always did.
Of course, you loved Ben. Well, you still love him. But that was what you never dared to say to his face.
Crimson Countess, that was who the media partnered him with. The constant flirting between the two, and the bickering always had you feeling like you were never enough. You were obedient, you were always so perfect to Ben. You always were there for Ben.
So why didn’t he notice you?
Those feelings resurfaced, but now, you didn’t know what to think. Here he was, holding you in his arms, letting you dampen his clothing.
After a moment of silence, you pulled back. Looking up at him with those same doe eyes you did forty years ago. The eyes that always left Ben in a spell.
You looked at each other for a minute. Just admiring the fact that you both were actually here, standing in front of eachother.
Ben finally spoke up, “Since we’re together.. why don’t we have a joint?” You let out a soft laugh.
“Then can we kill the stupid dicks?” You said with a smile. Ben grinned, “Hell yeah!” He said loudly.
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dolcettamagica · 7 months
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ch.1
tags: rick sanchez x reader, love triangle, rick being rick, rick being mean af as usual, age gap, it will get dark, angst, double ended - you decide it, some chps will be smut, slow burn, possessive behaviour, obsessive behaviour this chapter: rick sanchez x reader, rick being mean, sfw with some sexual indications word count: 1750
“Listen to me, you bi-bitch. I am not doing this for you, got-got it? I was challenged by someone, and I am not someone who loses and if you spoiled bitch call me an old man again, I’ll make you scream it, understand?”
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„What-what the actual fuck is this?!“
The whole Smith family was staring at the most recent weird event in their living room. A girl lying on their floor, alone and unconscious. It was obvious that she wasn’t an alien – judging by her appearance. Summer was focused on her outfit, Beth was checking if she still had a pulse and Jerry was being Jerry (useless).
“Morty – Morty you disgusting little shit! Did you buy a girl from space? Fucking pervert. I’m going to kill you!”, Rick’s voice echoed through the room, spit dripping from his mouth. His grandson instantly denied the accusations vehemently, saying that he is a pervert but not that kind of pervert. Rick was angry, furious even, someone like him – the smartest man alive – didn’t have time for shit like this.
“Um…Dad?”, Beth was holding a piece of paper in her hand instead of her usual glass of red wine, “It’s for you.”
“Wow, Grandpa Rick, maybe you were the one buying some girl like some creep.”
Rick narrowed his eyes at Summer’s remark. As if he would ever need to buy a girl at all. “Shut the fuck up, Summer, before I tell your mum where you hide your sh-shit.” That was enough to shut the redhead up and earn a disapproving look from Beth.
Quickly Rick snatched the note from his daughter’s fingers. A note – something so traditional…weirdly interesting.
Hello Rick C-137, Probably asking yourself why some girl is lying on your floor and why you’re reading a note right now. I’m not going to tell you shit though. Aren’t you the “smartest man” alive? The “rickest Rick”? You’re nothing more than an experiment to me and a dumber version of me anyway. I won’t tell you why she is in your dimension and your universe. I won’t tell you what experiment and what you should or should not achieve. Fuck, I won’t even tell you who she is or where she originated from. I also made sure that you won’t be able to track where she came from and on top of that you will never know who I actually am. Wait until she wakes up or wake her up yourself. I know damn well I piqued your interest, C-137.
He was right. The note did pique his interest, but it also pissed him off. Obviously, it was another Rick – an arrogant motherfucker who challenged Rick. “For f-fuck’s sake. What fucking bullshit is this”, his pale hand dragged down his face before he knelt down, right next to the stranger’s face.
“Wake the fuck u-up, dumb bitch. How can-can you sleep with everyone screaming.”
Dumb Bitch…Those words echoed through your head, jerking you awake. Who was this disrespectful to call you that? You blinked several times, the light from the lamps blinding you.
“O my God, Dad! She’s waking up.”
“Oh geez…I don’t think this is goi-going to end good.”
“I hope she’s cool like a new sister or something, Morty is like so annoying.”
Who was talking? Slowly your eyes adjusted to the new surroundings, and you were met with some old man staring into your soul. His scent was a mixture of alcohol, musk and after-shave. Not a bad smell at all.
“What…Where am I and who the fuck are you, old man?!”, the first thing you did was check your body. Missing limbs? Naked? Bruises? Chained up? No, everything seemed fine yet at the same time nothing was fine.
Your head felt like it was exploding, as if a belt was strapped around it and getting tighter and tighter. The room was unfamiliar just like the people around you. Everyone was screaming. Strangers. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Did they drug me? Your mouth was dry, as if you haven’t drunk any water in days. Did they kidnap me? Thousands of thoughts flooded your brain, and no answer was in sight. The room shrank and shrank and shrank. Why is everyone yelling? Who are these people? Where am I? I can’t breathe! I can’t- 
Rick injected a needle into your neck, pushing a milky liquid into your system. You were having a panic-attack, and he didn’t have the nerves to deal with anymore shit thrown his way. Almost instantly the girl in front of his feet stopped shaking, your breath calmed down as well as your excessive sweating. Meanwhile Rick took a long look at you – you weren’t dirty or anything, the opposite in fact. Your hair was clean and shining while your clothes were spotless and on top of that you smelled phenomenal. A rich vanilla with an undertone of cherry, sweet and sultry. 
“Wh-What did you in-inject her with, Rick?”
“Relax, Morty”, Rick rolled his eyes, “Just didn’t – didn’t want her to lose her shit. Give her a minute, we’ll be able to talk to her then.” Only Rick and the grandkids were left with you now. Beth had to go to work and Jerry was simply overstimulated, not being able to comprehend anything that happened in front of his eyes.
You took a deep breath and sat up; your eyes never left the tall, skinny frame of the older man. “Who are you guys…?”, your voice was timid, but your stare was stern.
“Rick, Morty, Summer. Y-You’re at our house. Don’t ask us why, you were probably tele-teleported here from someone who looks like me. We don’t know shit about you either, dumbass. Do we look like some human-traffickers to you? Another fucking dumbass.”
Suddenly it clicked – Rick Sanchez. You’ve seen his face all over the news again and again. Some mad scientist who was known for teleportation, universes and interdimensional traveling. And he was a fucking asshole. Morty and Summer were his grandkids. At least I know who they are.
“Now, tell me who you are”, Rick reached out and cupped your chin with his calloused fingers. His fingertips felt rough against your soft skin, you felt warmth creep up to your cheeks and spread across your face. With a hiss you slapped his hand away.
“My name is y/n. I’m 21 years old and a psych major at college. I will also be known as the girl who castrated you if you touch me again, old man.”
The last part earned a chuckle from Morty and Summer “Oh, Grandpa Rick got burned! I love you already, girl!” Their joy was short-lived though. Rick yelled at both of them, insulting them every way possible, demanding them to leave the fucking room before he feeds them to his alien-prisoners. Both complied to his command.
“F-fucking listen to me you wannabe mean girl bi-bitch. Some other Rick left a note-note for me, talking about some dumb ass experiment. What happened before you ended up here? Do you even know where you live or you wanna share a bed with this o-old man?”
“I live in….huh…Where do I live? I remember who I am but not a single thing about a family or a living space”, no matter how hard you tried you didn’t actually remember anything about your own life, “The last I recall before waking up is someone saying, “Last Chance, Sweetheart” and that someone sounded exactly like you.”
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“For fuck-fuck’s sake! I’m going crazy! I’m going to kill that motherfucking R-Rick!”
Two hours. Two hours passed and Rick tried everything to at least receive a single type of information, just anything. Nothing. Nothing worked. He tried to trace you back to your original universe – apparently you didn’t belong to any. He tried to find other versions of you – a big red error appeared. He couldn’t even extract past memories from your brain. Literally nothing has worked. He failed. Rick Sanchez, the smartest man on earth, failed.
“You know, maybe some memories will come back to me after some time. You don’t have to be yelling all the time…”, you were sitting on a chair, your elbows propped on his workbench and your hands cupping your face. Rick was in fact a weird guy – loud, rude but determined. After hours of listening to his drunken outbursts you just wanted some peace and quiet. Due to Rick kind of being famous on the internet you knew a thing or two about him and what his work was about. “I know you mean well and your actions could help me go back home…if I have a home, that is. You still need to chill though, old man.”
Once again you called Rick an old man. Is that girl serious? “You dumb little…”, you heard him growl as he turned around to face you. The burping, belching genius known was anything but amused. His typically wry grin twisted into a snarl of pure contempt, revealing a glint of madness in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.
The furrows on his forehead deepened, accentuating the lines of his craggy face as he scowled, his brows knit together in a storm of frustration. His eyes, usually glazed with a combination of apathy and brilliance, now burned with a fiery intensity that could rival the brightest supernova in the universe.
“Listen to me, you bi-bitch. I am not doing this for you, got-got it? I was challenged by someone, and I am not someone who loses”, Rick made his way over to you. Slowly, like a predator nearing his prey. His hand gripped your chair to make you face him. You felt yourself push back into the seat. He was too close and you two were all alone in his garage. One hand was now next to your head while the other was gripping your thigh. You could feel his breath blowing against your now hot, blushed face, his musk clouding your senses, his hand burning into your skin. “And if you spoiled bitch call me an old man again, I’ll make you scream it, understand?”
“Listen to me, Rick old man Sanchez. I’m neither spoiled nor a bitch. And your pathetic attempt of whatever this is isn’t working.” Harsh words which didn’t match your bright red cheeks or beating heart. Your own body was betraying you. “Fuck you and fuck this garage. I’m going to chill with your grandkids.”
A smirk grazed Rick’s lips as you stood up and left without looking back. Interesting. Who knew that embarrassing you would be that much fun? You’re feisty, witty and bratty and not a bad sight to the eye.
“Ah, makes me want to tame that little girl.”
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stupidlittlespirit · 8 months
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[Ch.1] - Teacher's Pet
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Rating: SFW Type: Longform, multi-chapter Tags: No use of pronouns for reader, fluff, smitten!Reigen, teacher!reader, flirting Word count: 3465 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3!
Reigen meets one of Mob's teacher's and loses his mind a little bit.
Schools give Reigen the creeps.
He has no fond memories of his own time in them and they've always represented something rigid and hierarchical in his mind, filled to the brim with stuffy old teachers who live to judge children and pressure them into the perpetual motion machine of working life.
As Reigen rounds the corner of the final street before Salt Middle School, and the establishment's gates iron peek into view, the familiar sense of dread he remembers so well from childhood pools in his chest. Even as an adult he distinctly dislikes them.
On his approach, he can see a smattering of students hanging around the entrance, milling about on their own time before they head off home for the evening, trading stories of the day and laughing with each other as they part ways until tomorrow.
To add to his existing unease, Reigen recalls the most recent escapade that brought him within 10 feet of an establishment like this. Last time, had almost landed him in jail, and although he’s dressed far more appropriately this time he still knows it might look suspicious to be a lone male skulking around young teenagers without a parental excuse.
In Reigen's defence, he is here under legitimate reason.
Thirty minutes ago, a frantic phone call from Mob begging him to bring a couple of his textbooks to school had upended his easy day.
Mob had explained that he had left them, forgotten, in the drawer of his desk, and when he'd called the office in a panic about late fees and potential accusations of unreliability against his name, Reigen had had no choice but to drop it off himself and save the boy from combusting in fear.
Mob isn’t exactly known for being the best when it comes to handling stress appropriately.
Reigen considers it to be the most obvious thing about his protégé, and if he can help him cope just a little better then he’ll always do his best to rescue the boy from a struggle so dutifully he had shut the office early and taken off at a good pace to make it to the school on time.
Mob has gotten better at managing his worries, of course, especially in the past year, but the boy is human; he can't help it if he slips up every now and then and far be it from Reigen to persecute him for that. It's not like he's much better with stress himself.
This week, school tests loom in almost every subject and poor Mob has really gone to pieces under the pressure of achieving good scores.
It makes Reigen’s heart hurt to think about how worried he’s been about it all and every waking moment of their work (that hasn’t involved directly facing a spirit) has been filled with his constant studying.
His dedication is impressive, if a little obsessive, and Reigen doesn't envy his struggle. He remembers how it feels to be ground up in the gears of education all too well.
As Reigen shifts the set of heavy textbooks in his arms to sit on his hip, he considers that he might have to start paying for the kid's therapy if he doesn't stop forgetting everything he owns the moment he starts getting worked up.
At the edge of the school's entrance driveway, Reigen stops. He shifts the thick textbook under his arm again and scans the crowd in search of his assistant, peering amongst the throngs of students for the familiar bowl cut of Mob.
Other than the children, there’s only one other person on site that he deems tall enough to be an adult and they’re far enough away, back turned to him, that he doesn’t think they'll be able to see him provided he’s subtle about it. He doesn’t particularly want to draw an official’s interest to himself. Not again.
Once he determines that he’s suitably out of earshot from the others, he raises an arm to try and get Mob's attention, waving his hand stiffly.
Unfortunately for Reigen, Mob doesn't even glance up. He's too engaged with whatever his sandy haired friend is saying and not even once does he look towards his boss.
Reigen sighs to himself and puts his arm down, choosing a different strategy. Though he’d prefer to blend in just in case someone does think he has scary intentions, in his infinite wisdom, he blows his cover immediately.
"Yo!" He half shouts, half whispers in Mob’s general direction, standing on tip-toes and waving at the boy like he's wishing him farewell on a train station platform.
Reigen winces inwardly at the mistake. Usually he’s much better at thinking things through, but he’s so on edge about being near the school that the small portion of his sensible brain has turned off for the evening.
Within seconds, he can feel curious heads turning toward him and very slowly, he lowers his arm.
Thankfully, this time Mob has heard his call at least. The boy's head turns and he breaks his concentration to find his master in the crowd, giving him a small wave in return. He's looking slightly less stressed than he sounded on the phone and there's a bundle of papers in his arms.
Although pleased to have finally succeeded, Reigen casts a glance out toward the interested strangers as subtly as he can.
He’s momentarily relieved to see that most of the kids have gone back to doing whatever they had before his arrival, heads swivelling back to concentrate on their games consoles or their gossiping, and then Reigen abruptly meets the eyes of the only other adult on site.
His stomach drops, crashing down into a cold pit of fear: the most responsible party here has noticed his presence and now they’re going to come and accuse him of being a freak. And then, like something out of an old cartoon, said stomach suddenly flutters right back up into place half a second later.
Whoever you are, you're beautiful. Beautiful enough to make Reigen's head fill with cotton wool and his body go warm the instant he sees you. Any thoughts of potential criminal charges disappear in favour of a pleasant static that buzzes through his brain and wipes out his concerns in an instant.
He's enamoured by your features, the cut of your clothes, the way a tiny frown knits your brow together in confusion at the sight of him.
There isn't much he can do but stare across the gaggle of children at you.
Reigen feels like he's trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car; A tiny rabbit pinned in the middle of the road. He can't bring himself to scrabble in either direction, away from the threat, and rather than hop away he instead pulls back his lips into an almost-sneer, not-quite smile.
It's stiff and awkward, and he knows that if he didn’t look suspicious before, he almost certainly looks like a total creep now.
He watches you look away momentarily to address a child that has approached your side and for a second, he thinks he might be off the hook if your attention is divided by someone more important than he is. With the threat gone, Reigen lets out a sharp breath of relief and flexes his hands as though they're numb. He's tingly all over and the sensation is foreign to him.
He’d assume it was fear, but Reigen knows that feeling very well. This is… Different. Not entirely disagreeable.
At his side, someone clears his throat.
"Hi, Master Reigen." Mob says, smiling politely. "Thanks for bringing the book."
"Shit!" Reigen starts, physically startled from his trance. When his feet touch the ground again, he frowns down at Mob, annoyed at both the interruption and the scare. For a moment, he completely forgets the reason for his being here. That is, until Mob nods at the bundle in his arms.
"Oh, right." Reigen says, clearing his throat and handing over the goods. "Remember it next time, alright? I'm not making a habit of this. I had to close the office for it." He tries to sound stern but it's hard to carry yourself with authority when you've just had the soul scared out of you.
Mob nods quickly and clutches the book close to his chest, taking the light-hearted chastisement to heart instantly. "I'm sorry," he starts. "I'll make sure I-"
"Forget it," Reigen interjects gently, waving away his disciples' apology. "I'll let you off if you tell me who they are." He inclines his head towards your still turned back, but ensures to keep it as low key as possible. It's no good drawing even more attention to himself and if he keeps quiet for the rest of the time he's here, there's every chance you'll forget about him.
For no reason whatsoever, Reigen feels a little disappointed about that.
Mob lifts his head and follows his master's line of gesture to where you stand across the courtyard, chatting away to another student. "Oh," Mob shrugs. "They teach English here. I have them for the second period."
"Huh," says Reigen, absent-mindedly straightening his tie as he sneaks another look in your direction. "Are they nice?"
Mob frowns up at him, slightly confused as to why his Master might be so interested in one of his tutors. "You're not going to try and talk to them, are you?" He asks hesitantly, eyeing him up.
Reigen scoffs like he’s been asked the most ridiculous question of his life, looking at the boy in disbelief. "I don't know what you mean." He says defensively. There's a breath of a pause and then Reigen starts up again. "And anyway, why not? I’m allowed to talk to whoever I want."
"Because they're nice." Mob says, as though that's ample reason for him to avoid you.
"I'm nice." Reigen protests. "I brought your book back, didn't I?"
"You're…." Mob pauses, thinking through his words carefully. "You're a different kind of nice, Master Reigen. That's all."
Reigen gives Mob a blank, unamused look and sticks his tongue out at him. It's childish, yet it gets a laugh out of Mob and Reigen grins. He loves seeing the boy smile and even if he’s a little offended, he knows Mob doesn’t mean anything hurtful by it. Reigen isn't so stupid as to be unaware of his abrasiveness. The assessment is fair enough, he supposes.
Reigen opens his mouth to tell him to hurry up and get his book back on time when he's cut short by a raised voice.
“Hey, Shigeo!” Someone calls from across the walkway. “Wait a second!”
Slowly, like the protagonist of one of his shitty horror B movies, Reigen glances over his shoulder to the source of the sound. Much to his absolute terror, he sees that the only other adult here is crossing the entrance to the school and heading straight toward him. It's exactly what he hoped to avoid and now he can do nothing but stand, frozen on the spot, and try to remember how to breathe.
Reigen makes a funny sound in the back of his throat and starts to turn away, fully intending to flee now that his task is complete.
"Please don't be weird…." Mob mutters to him, catching the look of fear on his face.
"I'm never weird." Reigen protests, his voice weak even to his own ears.
Hopefully nobody will call the cops this time. Eyes fixed on the ground, listening intently to the growing sound of footsteps, he waits for Mob to explain the entire situation.
"Shigeo," says a pleasant voice, much closer now. "Is everything okay?"
From his limited view, Reigen sees Mob nod out of the corner of his eye.
"Yes, it is." The boy says, voice level and calm as always.
Despite the fact that his head is ducked and his eyes are glued to the concrete under his feet, Reigen can feel the heat of your scrutinising gaze on the back of his neck. It makes the hair there stand up on end and his shoulders tense. Not even ghosts make him this nervous.
"And who is this?" He hears you ask, tone cooler than he might like to hear.
"This is my Master." Mob says helpfully, without even attempting to make the title sound less ominous.
"’Master’?" You echo, sounding unconvinced.
Reigen realises he's going to have to step in and clarify what the boy means if he wants to avoid having the police called on him, and he steels himself, turning on the spot to assure you he's actually a very nice, very professional, legitimate businessman and that Mob is really in no danger at all from him.
However, as soon as he meets your gaze, Reigen feels the silver tongue between his teeth turn to lead. His breath dries up in chest, throat constricting uncomfortably and stomach lurching.
Up this close, he can see you in far better detail than before. You're even prettier than he'd thought and it knocks the wind out of him completely.
None of his usual charismatic quips come to mind and his repertoire of smart deflections is nowhere to be found. He’s left floundering like a fish washed up in low tide, gaping and gawping on the shore with a mouthful of sand.
After a brief moment of stunned silence, Reigen somehow manages to force a single word around the lump in his scratchy throat. "Hi." He croaks, with as much charm as a rock.
Your brows raise slightly and he tries not to squirm as you look him up and down, silent and critical.
He half expects you to simply laugh in his face and tell him he's got ten seconds to get off of school property, but much to his delight, you smile.
Reigen thinks his legs might give out at the sight of it.
"Nice to meet you." You say evenly, extending a hand to him.
Reigen stares at your offered palm for longer than is socially acceptable. He doesn’t know what to do. All of his social skills appear to have flown out of the window along with his brain, and he stares for so long, in fact, that Mob is the one to bring it to his attention. He elbows Reigen in the ribs gently and the contact jolts him into an automatic response.
Reigen takes your hand in his, his grip instinctively tight like he’s closing a regular deal, and he shakes it stiffly. He does his best not to get caught up in the feeling of your soft skin against his own and instead blurts out the first thing he can think of.
"I'm his boss." Reigen says, louder than he needs to. "He's my, uh, apprentice."
Realisation dawns on your face and you breathe out sharply. "Oh, you work with him," you say, visibly relieved. "For a second I thought- Well, never mind." Your cheeks look a little flushed and Reigen realises that you're embarrassed about assuming his reason for being here.
He manages to find the confidence to laugh nervously and rubs the back of his neck. "It's fine, I just came to drop off his stuff." He shrugs. "I-!"
"Oh!"
Mob's voice makes Reigen jump again and grits his teeth in annoyance at the interruption. The boy doesn't mean any harm, but Reigen feels like he might combust if he gets another fright today.
"Here," Mob says, handing you the book in his arms. "Master Reigen helped me out. I didn't want to be late returning it so he shut the office to bring it to me."
All of the annoyance evaporates instantaneously. Reigen has no idea if Mob knows how much a comment like that helps him out right now. He’s making Reigen look like a paragon of kindness and compassion over a menial act, and judging by the way your expression softens, it’s working in his favour.
He tells himself it's only to ensure you don't think he's a weirdo, but still, Reigen makes a mental note to pay for extra ramen the next time they go out to eat.
"Thank you for returning it, Shigeo." You say, propping the book on your hip.
Disappointment wells within Reigen for a brief moment: you’re glossing over his contribution! He's the one who technically brought the book back, so why aren't you directing that bright smile at him? Why isn't he getting any praise? And why is it suddenly so important to him that you acknowledge his contribution? Reigen starts to panic; You're going to ignore him and forget him, and, and-
And then you're turning to him, your warm smile growing in appreciation as you address him directly. "Thank you for helping him out. I really appreciate it."
The words are simple and ordinary, and to any normal person they wouldn't mean more than an acknowledgement by way of being polite, but Reigen completely short-circuits.
He doesn't know why, and he can't find the coherence to even consider the cause, yet his throat goes dry again and the most he can manage in response is a shy hiccup of a laugh and a nonchalant shrug. “S’nothing,” he says. “Happy to help.”
What follows is another brief pause of silence. Both of you hold eye contact until your gaze flicks up and down his form again, quick and subtle as you seem to assess him in a less professional way than before. You don’t appear to want to look away from him when you meet his eyes again and Reigen finds that he can’t manage it either. He’s completely powerless again.
Your stare shifts, imperceptibly, into something that suggests you might be interested in more than his simple acts of kindness, and Reigen’s head swims.
Mob clears his throat. The both of you jump.
"Don't we need to get back to the office?" He asks, tugging on his Master's suit sleeve as he begins to step away.
"In a second," Reigen mutters, shaking his head to clear the fog. "Grown ups are talking."
Mob sighs softly and resigns himself to standing beside his master for just a little while longer.
"It's alright," you laugh, waving them off with an apologetic smile. "You're free to go. Sorry to have kept you both, I'm sure you're busy."
"No!" Reigen protests without thinking through how maniacal he might come off. At the confused look you give him, he clears his throat and hurriedly corrects himself, hand flapping uselessly in the still evening air. "I mean, yeah, kinda. I am." He says, aiming for a cool, detached vibe. "We get pretty busy."
You nod solemnly, taking his claim seriously, but even Mob can see that you're trying not to smile.
The boy ducks his head to hide his own.
"Better get back to it then," you say, not unkindly. "I have a lot of papers to grade, I'll see you tomorrow, Shigeo?"
"See you tomorrow." Mob smiles brightly, turning to leave.
Considering his reluctance on the way here, Reigen suddenly finds himself wanting to hang around the school for a bit longer, office be damned.
Now that he has your attention it feels imperative that he keep it for as much time as possible. He can’t remember the last time he felt so drawn to someone and he'd like nothing more than to stand here until the sun goes down, wasting precious working hours to chat with you.
As though you've read his mind about wanting to linger, you jerk your thumb over your shoulder toward the main building. "I've really gotta go…." You say, reluctantly backing up.
More disappointment crawls up Reigen's throat, but he's adult enough to understand that you probably do have a lot of shit to do before tomorrow comes and he does his best not to let it show on his face. "Oh, yeah. Sure. Me too." He mutters.
You give him one last smile, apologetic around the edges but sweeter than anything he’s ever seen, and offer him parting words that paint themselves on the walls of brain. "Maybe I'll see you around, Master Reigen." You laugh softly, teasing.
Reigen knows you're only addressing him by the title you've been given but the way you say it, playful and amused, knocks his brain on its ass instantly.
His stomach flips over and he gulps back the dumb little giggle that threatens to tumble from his mouth. He watches you leave in a stunned silence, unable to take his eyes off of you whilst you retreat into the confines of the schoolyard, and it takes so long for his senses to come back that Reigen finds himself rooted to the spot for an embarrassing amount of time.
Eventually, Mob has to come back to get him.
(chapter 2 to follow shortly)
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kolyasangel · 1 month
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NEW BEGINNINGS
synopsis: the new apartment complex you just moved into doesn't feel like home just yet, but you're hopeful you can make friends with your next-door neighbor.
content: ch. 1 of icarus falls - main navi / wc: 4.2k
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A thud is heard when you drop a box on your foot.
You groan and stoop to pick the box back up. Thankfully, it wasn't that heavy, so your foot is alright. You should be at work right now, but you're thankful your boss knew you've been busy moving and had been kind enough to grant you a day off to settle into your new apartment. It's actually been a few days since you officially moved in, but you're still hauling items from your old uni dorm, plus your parents' house, which was a lot more difficult than expected.
You recently moved into this apartment complex with the hard-earned money you saved up. Although it was far from beautiful, it wasn't awful at all either by any means. But you do hope that one day, you can afford a house of your own. Daydreams often come to you about having a place you could call a home of your own, maybe even a cozy cottage surrounded by lush greenery and lots of vibrant blossoms. That sounds nice, right? The thought of a tranquil and secluded place is undeniably appealing, you have to admit. With your current job, affording something nicer than this seems like a distant dream, but you make it work since you're grateful for what you have now. Something is better than nothing.
Even though many people live in the complex, you feel like an odd one out in this building, as most of the residents are considerably older than you. Despite this, you've made it a goal of yours to become acquainted with some of your neighbors who live on the same floor. Sometimes when you're walking past them, you'll wave or exchange greetings, and perhaps even strike up a conversation when the opportunity arises. But there's still someone you've yet to meet.
Your thoughts are interrupted by your landlord, who has just finished inspecting the apartment to ensure everything is in order and that there are no issues with the place. Judging by his appearance, he seems visibly older, probably in his forties.
"Everything looks great, miss. The place is in pristine condition, just like new." He says with a chuckle.
"Thank you." you smiled at him and listened as he continued to speak.
"If you need anything or encounter an issue, I'm always available." he flashes one more kind smile before turning to the stairs and heading to leave.
Just as he was about to take the first step, you summon the courage to speak up. "Uh, sir, excuse me..?"
He turns to look at you, his actions halting when he hears your voice.
"Does someone live here?" You ask, pointing at the door to the right of yours.
He glances in the direction you are looking in. "Huh? Yeah, the guy's pretty depressed though. Probably not a good idea to talk to him." He laughs, finding his own comment humorous, although it doesn't sit well with you as you don't find what he said at all to be funny. Despite this, you try to downplay your reaction, concealing your displeasure at his words.
"Do you know his name?" you press further, your curiosity now piqued.
"Uh— Niko.. Nikolai, I believe. Yeah, that's the one." he rubs his chin as if he's thinking hard about the question.
"Nikolai.." You pronounce softly, the name rolling off your tongue easily.
"Well, if that's all, I'll be off then."
You nod and thank him again and watch as he walks off, disappearing from your sight.
You weren't sure of what he meant by what he said, but it left you with a sense of uneasiness. Maybe you should just stop worrying, it's none of your business anyway. At least that's what you tried to convince yourself to believe in an attempt to silence the nagging worry at the back of your mind. Just leave it alone.
A frown fell on your lips when you thought of his words again, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek as you recalled the distasteful words. Even if it was meant to be a joke, it was a poor one at that. No one deserves to be talked about in that way.
Interest in the person who lives next to you is only heightened, which compels your next action— Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Hello?" you call out to whoever might be inside, your knuckles still against the wood.
No answer.
Maybe you shouldn't bother.
You sigh and withdraw your hand, pulling away from the door and looking back at the ground. The few remaining boxes left outside your door were practically calling for your name, awaiting unpacking. However, you couldn't concentrate on unpacking anymore, thanks to the new information you'd just been informed of that completely derailed you. With some reluctance, you decided that you were going to attempt to delve into the task again, leaning down to pick up a box.
But that all quickly went out the window when your gaze was again drawn to the quiet apartment adjacent to yours. You don't know who or what possessed you to make the next move, because you found yourself standing up again and reaching for the handle of the neighboring door.
"What do you think you're doing?" A stern voice interrupts your actions, catching you off guard.
The suddenness and the daunting tone instilled a feeling of dread in you, the situation diverting into something you didn't expect. It causes you to retract your hand quicker than lightning, fearful of catching a glimpse of the person's face, probably angry with you. But in a fleeting second, your head turns anyway, and your gaze meets his. A cold shiver immediately runs down your spine when piercing, mismatched eyes peer back into yours. You observe his worn-out appearance and the grocery bags he's holding in his hands, his long white hair tied into a braid, and the unnerving scar running down his left eye.  
"Watch where you're going." He says rather coldly before jingling his keys into the lock.
"I-I'm sorry.." You move away from the door and let him enter his apartment, leaving you standing there, feeling apologetic. "Um, I—!" You step back with a look of shock on your face as he slams the door.
Maybe he's just in a bad mood. No, he has every right to be mad at you— it literally looked like you were about to break into his fucking apartment. Great, this was the impression you left on the person who lives next door to you? Fantastic.
You realized it was by your own fault that provoked such a reaction from him, but recalling what you had just been told about Nikolai, all you were left with was a lingering sense of concern and curiosity.
— ✦
It's nearing afternoon, and you are getting ready for work. Since your job requires some moving around, you like to wear something simple and would rather be comfortable than anything while also considering practicality. But you still did like to make yourself all pretty, doing your makeup and hair being a simple but enjoyable part of your routine and overall day. Although, the heat of the summer has led you to opt for lighter, more refreshing makeup these days. After finishing up, you grab your belongings— car keys, wallet, lip balm, and put them in your bag, prepared to head out for the day.
On your way out the door, you see your neighbor standing on the balcony, his arms resting on the railing and his eyes focused on the view in front of him. He seems to be lost in thought.
"Good morning, Nikolai." You greet him politely.
Startled by the sudden voice, he turns his head toward you. "How do you know my name?" he asked with a hint of wariness laced in his voice.
"O-Oh um, the landlord told me. I promise I'm not a stalker.." You laugh it off, but he doesn't seem fazed.
"That's what a stalker would say." He says in a low tone, jokingly.
"What?"
"Nothing."
You look down at your feet, hoping he will break the ice as you are starting to feel uncomfortable in the silence that continues to prolong.
"Do you need something from me?" he eventually asks, noticing you aren't moving from your place.
Your ears perk up when his words register in your head. "I wanted to apologize for yesterday.. I know it looked like I was doing something bad but I promise that wasn't what I intended! I-I moved in recently and I just—"
He walks past you and reaches for the door to return inside his apartment, disinterested in what you have to say, having heard enough already.
"Wait!" You grab his arm in desperation. "I'm sorry for scaring you.."
"You..? Scary? Please." He looks at you with an unreadable expression before tugging his arm away from your weak grip. You're acting like you've already known each other for years. He has to wonder if you fake it, or if that must just be your personality. After all, he would know a thing or two about artificial personas.
"That's not what I meant.." you grumble, frustrated once again by his stubbornness.
"I'm nothing but a stranger to you, why are you trying to get close to me?" he shoots back.
"But, we don't have to be! I'm trying to make it so that's not our situation, I would like to know you a little better. You are my neighbor after all." You defend yourself.
Surprisingly, he lets out a chuckle, though it was seemingly a mocking one at that. "Do you do this with everyone you meet? There's a lot of dangerous people roaming around, you're going to get yourself into a very bad situation one day if you're not careful who you talk to, girl."
"But the fact that you said that makes me think you're not one of those people."
His eyes widen for a second before you continue to speak.
"Can I buy you a drink or something some time? As a proper apology?" You offer, hopefully, to elicit a positive response from him.
He was silent for a moment while staring at the door he wanted to so badly close on your face. "We'll see." He leaves it at that, undoubtedly not interested in drawing out the conversation.
"Really?" Your eyes light up at his words, leaving you with a spark of hope.
"Please, just leave me alone now."
That hope you felt for a short moment was quickly extinguished by his plea for solitude. You noticed the falter in his sentence contradicting his earlier coldness. Disheartened, you let go and step back in defeat, watching him return inside and close his apartment door.
There was something very wrong.
— ✦
"I like this one!" The cheerful voice of a customer rings in your ears.
"I'll get that one for you then, just a minute sir." You politely assure with a warm smile. You are arranging a bouquet for a customer who is planning to surprise his girlfriend, and he has just picked out the ribbon color to wrap around the flowers.
The soft pink of the ribbon perfectly complements the delicate pink tulips as you skillfully tie it into a flawless bow, taking a moment to admire your handiwork.
"Add in one of those white teddy bears too, I think she'll like that." the customer jovially adds.
You glance to your side, where an array of tiny gifts, such as small teddy bears and other stuffed animals, are displayed and available to add an extra touch of sweetness to someone's day. Choosing one of the teddies and placing it on the counter along with the bouquet, you ring the customer up at the cash register before handing over his new purchases.
The jingle of little bells on the door signals the departure of a pleased customer, a satisfied smile creeping up on your face as you watch the customer walk out of the shop. As stressful as your job could get sometimes, it was rewarding in the long run. Making people smile when they receive flowers is always the best part of your job. Moreover, it's a Friday today, so you also have a restful weekend to look forward to.
Your fingers tap on the counter as you stare at the clock, hoping your intense glare bullying the arms of the clock will impend them to move faster. The uncharacteristic impatience is unusual— because you actually like and enjoy your job. But there was something else on your mind today, plaguing your thoughts. Ever since Nikolai left you with a vague answer this morning regarding your potential hangout with him, it lingered in your mind, stirring a need for reassurance. You needed more confirmation from him, and perhaps, if luck was on your side, he would agree.
You don't know why you're so persistent in your endeavors. Maybe because you just want to make new friends, and Nikolai's dismissive behavior made you only feel more determined to bridge the gap between the both of you.
Post-college life has felt uneventful thus far, to say the least. Following uni, your friends moved away to further their education and achieve their dreams, off to different cities, countries even. Things have been quiet after graduation, and making new friends proved challenging. And amidst all this, you felt an undeniable sense of loneliness gnawing at you. It's only natural for humans to yearn for a connection, but you feel that the longing weighs heavy on you, especially nowadays. It all appeared too out of reach, too elusive to even hope upon. But, now that you had a chance to make a new friend, you weren't going to let the opportunity slip away from your fingers so easily. At first glance, Nikolai didn't seem much older than you either, so that was also a plus. Maybe the two of you would have some things in common if he was open to conversation, that was. His stubbornness, albeit making you feel a mixture of frustration, also fuels your determination to connect with him, feeling that there is more to him than what meets the eye.
Even now, you are working only with one other person on your shift. There were only ever a few people working in the shop, one of you handling arrangements and the front register while the other assisted and made deliveries on occasion. The tasks you needed to complete at work depended, based on what needed to be done on that day. Sometimes you engaged in conversation with your coworkers, but light chatter about the weather or what you ate for lunch was as far as your interactions went, evolving into nothing more than small talk.
As closing time neared, you began to close up shop, your movements more hasty than usual. You were eager to clock out and head to your favorite cafe down the road, which had become a post-work ritual for you. Locking the shop door with your key and hearing a satisfying click before exchanging goodbyes with your coworker, you look up at the sky, noticing that the sun is going to set soon. You pull out your phone and check the time— 7:13 p.m.
With anticipation, you walk a few blocks down until making it to the cozy cafe you've come to adore. A familiar chime of bells greets you as you push the door open, a reminder of the same bells you added to the gift shop entrance after a visit to the cafe— not being able to resist replicating the charm.
Usually, you order something simple, but the allure of the new summer menu catches your eye. So you decide to try something new and treat yourself to an iced strawberry green tea. Although you had to admit, you only ordered it because you were enticed by the cute strawberry drawing on the chalkboard that advertised the seasonal drink.
You pull out your wallet, fingers idly grazing the edge of the card while you wait in line after placing your order. While you wait, you take a moment to take in the lovely ambiance of the cafe— the soft glow of twinkling lights overhead and the relaxing atmosphere of the place. However, your peaceful mood is eventually spoiled when your gaze shifts to the pairs of couples sitting at the tables and groups of friends sharing laughter, briefly stirring an all-too-familiar pang in your chest. Your mind gets lost in the bittersweet memories shared with old friends when you were still a student. You wonder if your friends stayed in the city if they would spend time with you like they used to, if they would still call or text you like they used to.
Now that it comes to mind, you don't ever recall a time when you weren't the one reaching out and asking your friends to hang out with you first. It didn't bother you before, possibly because you didn't notice at the time, but the give or take of communication always fell upon you. A certain discomfort permeated your senses as you sat with your thoughts for a bit longer, your nails scratching against the plastic of your card in a vain endeavor to quiet them. Not wanting to wallow in your own thoughts, you quickly shift your focus so that your gaze is fixated on the floor instead. That is until you hear your name called, deterring your eyes from the ground. You pay for your drink, settling up at the register before exchanging a thank you. The coldness of the iced drink brings a chill to your fingers as you touch the cup and bring it to your lips, the sweet flavor of strawberry settling on your tongue, leaving you satisfied with your choice.
Leaving the cafe and heading to your car, your mind wanders again, a flood of old memories washing over you as you reminisce about your days in uni. It was pointless now to think about what could've been different, what you could've done differently. You know that. But you can't help but do it anyway, the reason why things turned out the way they did being unfathomable to you. Once inside your car, you take a deep breath before putting on your seatbelt and starting the engine. The soft hum of the engine lulls you into a reflective state as you begin to drive home, the route you're still becoming familiar with soothing your mind.
— ✦
As you park and step out of your car, you look up at the apartment complex and notice someone standing on the balcony.
It's Nikolai, and he's looking out at the sky. The sun was beginning to set.
Walking up the stairs to your apartment on the second floor, you catch a glimpse of Nikolai as his back is turned to you. You approach him calmly and comfortably.
"Hi, Nikolai." you say with a soft smile.
He turns to you. "Hey." he says, low and plain.
You were expecting a harsh comment or look from him, but to your surprise, he has a gentler look on his face, his eyebrows relaxed. Maybe he's in a better mood now.
Nikolai observes your tired expression and realizes you must've just returned from work, particularly eyeing your simple outfit comprising of jeans and a short-sleeved top. Wherever you work, he doesn't care enough to ask.
As you join next to him on the balcony, your eyes fall upon the sun that is dipping below the horizon, casting a warm glow over its surroundings and painting the sky in fiery shades. Sunsets never fail to bring a sense of peace and calmness to your day, there was something about them that made you want to delve into the awe and beauty of nature. After not-so-great days, the sunset was a reminder that a better tomorrow would await you, always giving you the feeling that everything was going to be alright.
Nikolai must like watching the sunset too, you assume. You thought as much as you shifted your gaze towards him, his usual expression and features softened by the evening light. However, you notice how he looks distracted or rather that he's thinking hard about something. Hesitation pervaded your mind as words sat at the tip of your tongue, daring to spill. But you decide that you shouldn't ask him about whatever was on his mind, worrying he'll get irritated.
"You stand here a lot." You comment instead.
His tone shifts into a light-hearted one, putting your worries at ease. "What do you mean? You've only seen me twice. Don't tell me you actually are a stalker?" He joked, his gaze not moving from the view ahead.
Feeling relief from his playful response, though still slightly embarrassed by your previous statement, you redden, wishing you would've eaten your words rather than speaking them out loud. "Well, I mean.. you were here this morning.. and right now. I'm just making an observation." you replied, almost stumbling over your words.
He hummed, nonverbally agreeing with your words.
"But then, why haven't I seen you before yesterday?" You asked, curious.
"I was busy."
"With?"
"Gosh, you're so nosy, aren't you?"
"I-I'm sorry." You murmur as your voice gets fainter, looking back towards the fading sunlight in the sky.
Nikolai looked back at you for a moment when you looked away from him, taking heed of the pink tinge of glow that spread across your cheeks. He watches the wind wafting away strands of hair before cascading over your flushed cheeks again as both his and your hair billow from the gentle breeze, finding himself incapable of looking away after noticing how the setting sun poured pools of orange and yellow into your eyes, creating reflections that swam around in your irises.
Noticing his gaze is now fixated on you instead of the sun, you confusedly ask him, "Is something wrong?"  
For a moment, he seems to struggle to find the right words. His gaze averted from you swiftly, feigning indifference to pretend he wasn't doing anything. He had to look away before unwanted feelings rose in his chest. "No... I'm going, g'night." He hastily spoke before turning away, excusing himself.
"Wait!" you called after him, causing him to halt and look back at you, taken aback and visibly perplexed by your frantic voice. "About us hanging out, are you still down? I mean, you didn't really give me an answer last time.. so I wanted to check with you to make sure."
"Why did you want to in the first place again?" He asked, running a hand through his hair before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, looking at you confusedly.
"As my apology to you, remember?" You explain, your voice growing quieter with sheepishness, replacing your previous tone. "And.. and I think it would be a nice opportunity to get to know each other and maybe become friends."
The reason is unknown to you, but the way Nikolai tenses up at your words is discernible, though he quickly composes himself before replying to you. "You're still thinking about that? Listen, I don't care about what happened yesterday. What's done is done, you don't need to do anything for me."
"But I want to." You insisted, looking at him with pleading eyes.
Gosh, you wouldn't give it up, would you?
Nikolai sighed involuntarily, taking some time to gather his thoughts before he carelessly spews out something unnecessarily mean at you. It's dangerous to get too close to anyone. Ever since what happened, since he died, he pledged to himself that he would never get close to anyone again. He cringed whenever he thought about how he committed all those atrocities and conducted a whole prison break years ago— all in the name of what? Freedom? What freedom? There is no true freedom. At least not here. He had to learn that the hard way. He'd become too overconfident and didn't realize it wasn't as easy as he had initially thought, and now he's stuck in this strange space in life where he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. And yet, despite the chaos occurring in his head, clouding his mind, he knew he had to give you an answer. He figured that if he said yes to you this one time, maybe, just maybe, you would leave him alone after that. That's the only reason why you're doing this, right? You just want to show him you're sorry for your stupid mishap, and that's all. He didn't have any big plans for tomorrow anyway, and it was about time he actually did something else for once rather than his usual routine.
"As long as you don't constantly interrogate me." He eventually settles.
You held out your pinky to him, causing him to look at you with bewilderment at your childish display. "I promise I won't berate you with questions." you pledged, softly giggling.
And for the first time, you swear a genuine smile graces his face. He takes one hand out of his pocket and holds out his pinky, linking it with yours.
Maybe things will get better.
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© kolyasangel 2024 - no reposts. do not copy, steal, or translate. reblogs are appreciated.
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thegnomelord · 2 months
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Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land Ch: 1
CW: Canon typical violence, gore and violence, Canon alterations, GN reader for now, eventual Kim Dokja/reader/Yoo Joonghyuk, AO3
Summary: When you were a child, you learned two lessons. One of them, your parents had carved into your bones with tongues as sharp as swords: Some things will always be out of your control.
Perhaps this was why you had emersed yourself in fiction from a young age, because it allowed you to feel true freedom through the lives and struggles of the characters, to live out their happy endings even if your treacherous heart didn't allow one for yourself.
But those times were coming to an end.
Here you were, a foreigner in Seoul, one contract away from losing all you had worked to achieve. At times like this, you would wonder what the protagonists would do, what you would do in a lawless world like ORV, where the lessons you had learned would loose their meaning...
Could you reach your own happy ending? Or would you fail once again?
As they say; Be careful what you wish for.
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It's funny how quickly life can fall to pieces.
Not even two weeks ago you had still been known as the choreographer and back up dancer of 'cODe X', a relatively underground kpop group quickly garnering mainstream popularity thanks in large part to your unique and 'chaotic' style of choreography meshing wonderfully with their abstract sense of music. And you were good at your job too; whether it was working from the shadows as their dance coach or on the main stage as a back up dancer, one thing was clear— you knew how to entertain.
Of course working for them hadn't been all sunshine and roses, as the many sleepless nights could attest. Frankly you had lost count how many times you had stayed late in the studio, chasing away fatigue with caffeine and prayers just so you could perfect a routine. Seeing as their boom in popularity and subsequent employment offer at a entertainment company had only happened a few months ago, the pay hadn't been the best either, but you didn't mind.
Hell, considering the bloodthirsty viper pit that was the Korean job market for foreigners, you were quite lucky to be working for them, and having to deal with their sleazy employer, than working one of the dirty, dangerous and demeaning jobs Korea would often offer to people like you...or worse: getting deported.
But your luck has run out.
Because some things will always be out of your control.
Now here you were; Sitting in a prestigious restaurant turned impromptu courtroom, where the judge was nowhere to be seen and the other costumers, like bought jurors, paid no attention to you or your plight. And why would they? Though you were the wronged party here, you sat at the table not as a victim deserving justice; But as the antagonist, as the villain.
Because the 'victim' had already won, and this farce was just for show.
...
Black beady eyes stared back at you through the glass as if it saw kinship between the two of you. But that was just your mind trying to console you; You knew that the only thought in the things' head was the instinctual drive to protect its unhatched young still stuck to its tail. It didn't even notice when one of it's kin was pulled out of the tank, leaving only two lobsters where once there had been three, just because someone had gotten hungry and decided they wanted grilled lobster tail.
You supposed you were no better than them, your life in the hands of someone else. Yet unlike the lobsters, who floated around the tank as they were still beneath the sea, you weren't ignorant to the powers that be...so why did that not make you feel any better?
A bottle of soju was placed on the table, tearing you away from your thoughts. You watched the waiter girl give a shallow bow and scamper off, turning your attention to the so called 'victim' of this mess.
Or you would have, if the damn copycat had actually showed up.
Instead of meeting the smug smirk of Juin, the bastard that had copied the choreography you had invented and performed step for step and then accused you of stealing his ideas, you were instead greeted by the best lawyer his daddy's money could afford; Although you hadn't paid enough attention to remember his name, the smile he had given you at the start of the negotiations would've made the devil proud.
You didn't have enough money to hire a snake like that, and going to court over this matter with your budget was out of the question. Hell, the only reason you had a competent lawyer of your own, instead of the one the entertainment company had tried to give you, was because he was a fan turned friend of yours.
"As I was saying," The lawyer cleared his throat. He was a short man and looked old enough to be mistaken for one of the Elders. "My client is happy to drop all charges provided your client issues a public apology and agrees not to sign any more choreography or dance specific contracts for the next four years." And just like the Elders, you couldn't underestimate him.
"Are you kidding me?" Choi Chin-Mae's bewildered voice pulled you out of your musings.
Chin-Mae was short even by Korean standards, and looked like a pipsqueak when next to you. His eternal baby face only complicated matters, with light brown hair and honey colored eyes he looked more like your little brother than a man one year away from being thirty and several years your senior. Because of his youthful appearance, people would underestimate him in the courtroom, and in doing so would unwittingly dig their own graves as Chin-Mae turned out to be a vicious lawyer when he could go before a judge.
"Non-competition agreements must be fair for the one sighing it, but what you are asking of my client is grossly abusive and would impair my client's livelihood and employment opportunities more than the common six month long NCA's." Chin-Mae argued. "And, I can't believe I have to say this, but you would know that such a contract is illegal and wouldn't be binding in any country, least of all ours."
Unfortunately, you couldn't go in front of a judge, even if the claims were baseless, the attorney and court fees would surely bankrupt you. It's the reason why you had agreed to try settling this outside of court.
The opposing lawyer smiled at Chin-Mae as if he was a child, "Mister Choi, my client isn't asking for them to sign an NCA."
You could see Chin-Mae narrow his eyebrows, his mouth opening to form a rebuttal, but no sound came out as the other lawyer held up his hand, taking a long sip of his soju. When he was done, he put the glass on the table, before speaking. "My client expects yours to do this on their own accord, without a signed NCA."
"That's preposterous," Chin-Mae scoffed, "No judge would allow that." He shot back, already beginning to form another reply when he was cut off again.
"Oh?" The lawyer asked, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his lip. "Then would your client like to go to court over this matter as we had originally intended and see what the judge decides?"
Chin-Mae closed his mouth, his lips pressed into into a thin line. You could see the gears in his head turning, struggling to come up with a rebuttal.
You sighed internally. As sad as it sounded, you were used to this; This disappointment and failure and powerlessness.
Maybe that was why you felt so calm at the moment...either that or the stress over the past few weeks had made you numb as a rock. Either way, Juin was richer and more influential than you, and with his daddy's money, you were certain that the populace would see you as the selfish copycat and the truth would be buried six feet deep where it could rot alongside your reputation.
Was this how the author of TWSA felt when SSSSSS-grade Infinite Regressor came out and became wildly popular?
"Of course, my client isn't heartless." You found that hard to believe, but held your tongue. "He is willing to offer a...different method to resolve this problem."
You and Chin-Mae glanced at one another, your friend only shrugging his shoulders as the other lawyer rifled trough his suitcase.
"Here we are," The lawyer pulled out a thick stack of papers bound together at the corner. You had to assume it was a contract, though even in the entertainment industry you had never seen a contract that was as thick as a Bible.
He placed it on the table, sliding it towards you. You only managed to read the first few lines, most of it meaningless lawyer lingo, before Chin-Mae snatched it and began reading through it, softly mumbling some legal jargons under his breath that you had no hopes of understanding.
"What is Juin offering?" You asked, far too tired or numb to call the copycat with any respect (not that he deserved any).
The lawyer didn't even bat an eye at your disrespect. "In short, the employer of my client is offering for you to come work under my client." He explained, taking another long sip of his drink. "You are remarkably talented for someone so young," He offered, the compliment wounding your pride more than any insult from your parents ever could. "It would be a shame to see it wasted for such a stupid mistake like the one you had made."
You narrowed your eyes, but otherwise were able to hold your poker face. "And my obligations if I signed it?"
Judging by the fact that Chin-Mae had grown as silent as the grave while reading the aforementioned contract, whatever was in store for you wasn't good.
"My client still expects a public apology for the damage you had caused to his reputation." The lawyer gave you an innocent smile, "You will also be required to terminate your previous contract with your current employer, but that one is obvious." He then began listing off even more conditions, from low wages to obscenely long work hours and even more draconian requirements.
It was little better than the slave contracts the 'cODe X' members had signed.
Chin-Mae echoed your sentiment, nearly frothing at the mouth as he slapped the contract on the table. Still, he was able to hold himself back from starting off his sentence with an insult. "The contract says nothing about their visa, how can we be sure you shi—"
Quick as a flash you elbowed him in the ribs, punching a pained sound out of him and cutting him off before he could say something stupid in the heat of anger. He glanced at you, before nodding his head and clearing his throat. "...Will the company provide continued renewals of my clients' work permit provided they sign the contract?"
The lawyer watched this all go down with amusement, but luckily didn't comment on your minor display of violence. "That is correct." He nodded his head, turning to look at you. "The entertainment organization has already prepared all the necessary documents on their end, barring your employment contract, which we are discussing at this moment." He motioned to the stack of papers sitting on the table.
Your friend grew silent, watching the old lawyer take a sip of soju, before he asked. "Is there room to negotiate the details of this contract? Multiple aspects and stipulations of this contract leave a legal grey area and the employer's expectations for my client aren't any clearer."
Or, in other words; it was legal on paper, and only on paper.
"I'm afraid not," The lawyer have you a sympathetic smile, though you were sure it was about as real as Juin's nose if the tabloids about his plastic surgeries were to be believed. "This is the only contract my client is willing to offer you...no alterations allowed." The old man leaned into his chair as he finished off his soju, motioning to the papers in front of you. "You can sign it now or you can meet my client in court and let the judge decide the outcome. What do you say?"
Oh, you had a lot to say, most of it unfit even for a PG18 audience.
To think that this bastard had framed you as a plagiarist, dragged your name and reputation through the mud, and was now aiming to squeeze what joy and creativity you had left in your soul like it was a wet rag...and he hadn't even bothered to show up in person to do so.
A dark voice, locked away deep in the caverns of your heart, whispered a seductive thought in your ear: Drown the lawyer in the lobster tank!
But you shouldn't, couldn't, do that.
Chin-Mae sagged in his chair, looking at you with a worry in his eyes. "What...what should we do?"
You frowned, what else was there for you?
You pulled the contract in front of you, flipping over to the last page. You reached into your pocket, fingers ghosting over cold metal as they went past it and grasped the dojang you carried around. At this point, the instinct to carry it around was no difference than the ingrained need to have sharp steel hidden in your pocket or boot.
"What other choices do we have?" You asked, the question rhetorical in nature.
"None that would be in your best interest." The lawyer helpfully informed you, pushing forward a small contained of red dojang ink. You were only slightly surprised they weren't asking you to sign the devil's contract with your own blood, though the irony of red ink wasn't lost on you.
The dojang hovered over the signature mark, the nerves you had locked away so well until now making themselves known through a slight tremor in your hands which only got worse the longer you hesitated. Oh, how you wanted to take matters into your own hands, like the protagonists of ORV or some other manga. Those heroes who could to push through their problems or fool the gods themselves, forging their own path with nothing but the strength in their arms and their wits...But fiction wasn't reality, and some things would always be out of your control.
If only you could change your future.
The lights cut out, plunging you in darkness.
A shiver raced down your spine, followed closely by a cold sense of wrongness.
"What's happening?"
"Must be a power outage, nothing to worry about."
"Well they better fix it quick, I haven't finished eating."
You paid no attention to the voices of the other restaurant goers, something at the back of your mind urging you to check your phone. Your hand was already reaching for it long before your brain had fully processed the thought. The light burned your eyes, but even that failed to garner your attention as your eyes settled on what resided on your home-screen:
You have 5 new messages from: tls123
The lights came back on, but you didn't put your phone down, instead quickly opening the messages.
tls123: I am sorry. We failed.
tls123: In truth, I don't know how this happened, but you are here now.
tls123: Maybe you can succeed where we failed.
tls123: This should help.
tls123: [Attached 2 files titled 'Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World.TXT', 'Omnipresent Reader's Viewpoint.TXT']
You stared at your phone, unease and confusion bubbling in the pits of your stomach. Thoughts rolled around your head like tumbleweeds, forming questions which demanded answers you didn't have; Was this a joke? Was someone pranking you? It wasn't like bored teenagers never texted weird shit to random numbers, but they were never so specific.
On instinct you pressed the download button, before trying to type back a message. Only you couldn't; any letter you pressed would lag for a good five seconds if it even registered at all. Despite your best efforts, all you had typed out was an incomprehensive mess of letters. It seemed like your phone was using everything it had just to download those two files.
With a strange sense of deja vu, you checked the time on your phone — 7:02 p.m.
You couldn't tell what you felt at that moment; Anger? Sadness? Disappointment? Foolishness maybe?...This was real life, not fiction, what were you doing fooling yourself into thinking that it could be any different?
The call of your name from the lawyer had you switching off your phone and quickly putting it back in your pocket. "Yes, I'll sign it." You picked up the dojang, re-applying the ink. This time you only hesitated for a second before placing your seal on the dotted line, resigning yourself to your fate.
Then you heard a voice and you didn't even notice when you mouthed the words it said in sync with it:
[The free service of planetary system 8612 has been terminated]
[The main scenario has started]
You blinked rapidly before rubbing your eyes, wondering if you had finally lost what marbles you had left.
Then Chin-Mae muttered by your side, "Is that a...Dokkaebi?" Then a second later, under his breath. "I've got to cut back on that shit."
You whipped your head around quickly to look, forgetting to ask what that shit was as your ears began to ring, the dojang quietly slipping from your fingers at the sight you saw.
Floating in the center of the restaurant was a...a small furred creature, its off white fur contrasting with the tattered skirt/loincloth it had around its waist. Two budding horns sprouted from its head, like those of a little Billy goat.
"Wow, is this a new attraction?"
"It's kinda ugly looking."
The voices of others rang like church bells in your ears, yet they accomplished one significant thing — they proved that you hadn't gone insane just yet and that this thing was real.
As quick as you could you grabbed your phone, scrolling through your downloads until you found it: TWSA, all 3,149 chapters of it.
You scrolled through the chapters, only reading bits and pieces of it all as some part of you tried to prove to you that this was all just your imagination. You felt something at the back of your mind ding as you read through the chapters, lines you had seen in the ORV novel scattered among pages and pages of what had to be the original TWSA.
You looked up as the little creature tried to speak, but you already knew what would come out. Though it still surprised you how the language it spoke vaguely sounded like a bastardized version of your mother tongue.
['*#(w&$!*$!]
[#*@!%a!(*s(#!@#*&!]
"Hey, isn't that your language?" Chin-Mae asked, turning to look at you.
You shrugged one shoulder, no less confused than him. "If it is, that's the worst accent I've ever heard."
Then a few seconds later, you heard perfectly pronounced Korean leave the little creature's mouth. "I, I am really sorry everyone, the Korean patch wasn't...um working properly." It said, but something was strange;
Why did it look like that, you knew webtoon artists took some liberties but you were certain that the Dokkaebi from ORV was white with golden horns, not off-white with brown horns. And it certainly hadn't been as polite, and was this really how it sounded in real life?
The little creature cleared its throat. "Now...May I have everyone’s attention, I, I have big important news!” It tried to sound commanding by raising his voice, but either because of fear or stage-fright it failed to garner the attention it wanted.
"Do you think they sell plushies like that?"
"Do you really think the girls would like it?"
"Mommy I want one! I promise I'll take good care of it and feed it, and walk it, and pick up after it!"
You had no idea how that was possible, but parts of the Dokkaebi's fur turned pinkish red almost like it was flushed from embarrassment. "I, uh-I mean-mhh!" It flinched suddenly as if hit by some unseen force. It turned into itself slightly, a small galaxy appearing in its hands. "My...My apologies d-dear constellations! I-I, uh...I will begin right now!"
With that you saw its horns elongate, becoming almost as big as the rest of its body.
A shiver raced down your spine, blood roaring in your ears.
You knew what would happen.
"This is stupid." The lawyer muttered, standing and quickly grabbing the contract you had all but forgotten about. "I am afraid I am unable to stay to this childish theatric, until next time we meet."
Chin-Mae flinched, pushing his chair back as he began to stand up to stop the lawyer. "Now wait a minute we aren't fini-"
Quick as lighting you reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder before roughly pushing him back down, your fingers digging into his shoulder with a level of savagery and roughness he didn't think you possessed. Any protests he tried to make were silenced by your palm quickly being pressed over his mouth, not letting a single sound escape him. You pushed his head to look at you, your fingers digging into his cheek and jaw hard enough to leave bruises.
He grabbed your wrist, trying to pull your hand away, only to freeze in place when his eyes met yours.
You didn't think you wanted to know what he saw in them. 
'Don't. Move' You mouthed to him, not even a whisper escaping your lips.
[I need you to listen to me!]
A shot rang through-
Then the screaming began.
Several more shots rang out-.
The screams stopped as multiple heavy objects hit the ground.
A leg landed on your table, spraying you with blood.
Your palm muffled what pathetic noises Chin-Mae made, his trembling hands gripping your sleeve in a bruising grip.
Though your iron-like grip on his mouth kept Chin-Mae looking at you, his pulse thump thump thumping like a war drum beneath your fingers, you couldn't stop yourself from looking.
It was like a car crash, you couldn't look away. Your eyes wandered around, unable to settle on one specific thing; From the sight of blood stained immaculate floor, to the multiple limbs scattered around the place like morbid decorations, to the bodies of those who had tried to run laying on the floor. They were surprisingly still alive, writing soundlessly as they tried to stop the bleeding. You glanced at where the lawyer had gone to, only to find him alive with a missing leg.
[I..Did I do good? Yes?]
Slowly, you let go of Chin-Mae's shoulder, motioning for him to stay quiet with your hand. You waited until he nodded, before pulling away your palm from his mouth, his hands still gripping your forearm.
His chest rose to hiccup and you were prepared to slam your hand back over his mouth...but he held it it, biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed. A stray tear slowly rolled down his cheek, his trembling hands bound to leave bruises on your arm.
[Then, I-]
The Dokkaebi coughed, its voice returning to normal. "I have to inform you that...that the free service of this planetary system has ended. As of right now you will have to pay for your lives." It looked up, as if listening to someone.
Evidently it wasn't something nice, as a moment later it visibly flinched into itself, almost hugging the galaxy to its chest. "Ri-right, we are already behind schedule!" It began fumbling with something in the galaxy you couldn't see, sweat condensing on its fur in visible drops.
You blinked, a small window emerging in front of your eyes.
[The main scenario has arrived!]
[Main Scenario #1 — Proof of Value]
Category: Main
Difficulty: F
Clear Conditions: Kill one or more living creatures
Time Limit: 30 minutes
Compensation: 300 coins
Failure: Death
You stared at the screen before raising your head enough so you could look around with just your eyes, your thoughts running a mile a minute. Not a single person dared to move a muscle, afraid that doing so would draw the furry fairy's wrath even when the game had already started. You knew you had to be careful too, you weren't the protagonist of TWSA or ORV, and without any powers the information you possessed would only take you so far.
Wait...attributes!
Quietly you whispered 'Attribute Window' under your breath, half expecting to be met with an error message.
Only you didn't receive anything at all.
What?
Turning on your phone once again you scrolled through TWSA, a shiver racing down your spine as you found yourself reading through nearly ten chapters in less than a minute. Then you quickly switched over to ORV, hoping to find something or for something to happen when you read it, though you were unsure how much this information would help you considering you weren't in a train car. But it had worked for Dokja, and you had read it as well...so why wasn't it working for you?
[The Dokkaebi smiled faintly as it became transparent and disappeared into the next space.]
You glanced up at the Dokkaebi. It was still floating in the air, watching the people in the restaurant as if they were the predator and it was the prey. Why? Surely it knew how much power it had over you? And why hadn't it disappeared after giving the announcement? Bihyung had done that in ORV...wait!
You nearly facepalmed, this wasn't Bihyung! It only took you a few seconds to scroll through ORV before you found the creature most resembling the one in front of you: Youngki, the low-level Dokkaebi who took over when Bihyung had been busy. When he had first appeared he didn't know how to show messages; it would make sense why you weren't getting any notifications, he probably didn't know how to turn them on.
But why wasn't Bihyung here? Wasn't he the one streaming in Seoul?
You would have to search for answers to those questions later, right now you had to survive.
You checked the clock, only a single minute had passed, yet you knew if you didn't do something you wouldn't have much time left. In ORV Youngki was a pushover, and now that you had TWSA, you had a better chance of making a deal with him like Dokja had made with Bihyung. And more importantly, you knew how this game worked.
You wouldn't survive playing by the house's rules.
You glanced at the lobster tank, the water had been dyed a scarlet red as the two lobster munched on some unfortunate person's arm.
Then you looked around at the people, every single one of them frozen stock still like statues. Without someone to spark the fear in their hearts to make them act, they would all die. You doubted there were any chuuni in the restaurant to incite the violence as there had been in the train...If you didn't act, you would be no better than them, but could you live with yourself after knowingly sentencing these people to death? How would that make you any better than the monsters or the constellations?
Chin-Mae's trembling pulled you out of your thoughts. Though his hands still clutched your arm like a lifeline and he stared off into space beyond you, the look in his eye told you that it wasn't fear that made his arms shake, but rage.
You made up your mind.
People would die regardless, but in this apocalypse only those willing to fight had a chance of survival.
"Chin-Mae, listen to me." You gently slapped his cheek, cursing to yourself when he continued to stare past you into oblivion, consumed by whatever war was happening in his head. "This is a bad situation, but if you want to see Junior again, you have to listen to me." You hissed, and that got his attention better than a kick in the balls could.
Was it manipulative to use her against Chin-Mae? Maybe, but what choice did you have?
"Really?" Chin-Mae asked, voice barely above a whisper.
You hummed instead of answering and pointed to the lobster tank. "See that?"
He followed your finger with his eyes and nodded when he saw the unlucky crustaceans. You asked him to look at the scenario conditions again, and you could clearly see him reach the same conclusion you had; it never said the living thing had to be human.
You quickly told him your plan in hushed whispers, "Do you understand?" You asked as you pulled your other hand away from him, his fingers lingering on the fabric of your clothes before he let go.
"Ye-Yes." You nodded as he answered, before reaching down to your boot. You grasped the handle before quickly pulling out the knife hidden there, offering it to Chin-Mae.
"Huh?!" Chin-Mae sputtered as he looked at the blade, the metal glinting under the restaurant's lights. "Why-uh...why do you have this?"
You shrugged your shoulder; Now wasn't the time to delve into your skeleton stuffed closet just to answer that question. "I'll tell you later, now shh." You shushed him and urged him to concentrate on the plan, waiting for him to nod in confirmation before you stood up, one hand reaching into your pocket to feel the comforting cold steel of a second blade hidden there.
You felt something at the back your mind tingle, but it disappeared before you could figure out what it was.
Taking a final moment to prepare yourself mentally, you began walking towards the furry fairy. You passed the old lawyer on your way towards it, his silent begging for help with his eyes amusing some dark part of you. Any good person would have tried to help...But you had to concentrate on the living.
After all, you couldn't turn back time, you only had one shot at this.
"Hey, fluffy!" You called, garnering the attention of every pair of eyes in the room, coming to stand as close to the floating creature as you could while still keeping a safe distance.
"Huh, whah?!" It turned around so quick you were surprised it's neck didn't snap. "Are yo-ah- are you talking to me?"
Were there any other furry fairies around? You wondered to yourself, but you quickly realized you had said that out loud as dusty pink patches quickly spread all over his body. "Say," You quickly began, hoping a change of topic would cover up your verbal blunder. "You're new to this streamer business, no?"
Your words made the Dokkaebi jump so hard his horns nearly touched the ceiling. "Wha-how-why-how do you-" He sputtered as he flew down to be right in front of you, the galaxy clutched tightly to his chest like he was a child with a toy.
You couldn't hold back a snort at that thought, quickly waving off Youngki's confused questions. "Well for one, you haven't enabled notifications and messages." You informed him, "I'm certain the constellations would like for us to know what they have to say." You added, aiming to light a small fire under his ass.
The dusty pink patches on Youngki's fur became dark red as he fumbled around with the miniature galaxy in his hands, "I, I, I am so sorry- I" You could see several stars in the miniature galaxy blinking in sync, as if laughing at the pint sized pipsqueak as he stuttered out more apologies, flushing an even deeper shade of red as he realized he didn't know how to do it.
"The 'on' button should be somewhere around...there." You tried to help him, motioning with your hand vaguely to the center of the galaxy in his hand as you recalled reading something about it in TWSA.
After a few moments he seemed to have gotten it working, a low sound of accomplishment leaving him as messages began popping up.
A sharp pain bloomed behind your eyes. You groaned and clutched your head, willing your eyes to stay open as message after message appeared before you. The novels never mentioned anything about the messages making your head hurt...
[#Yo-7623 channel is open]
[The constellations have entered]
[Your reading speed has increased due to the effect of the exclusive attribute '?????']
[You can't activate the Attribute Window]
[Exclusive skill, 'From the Shadows Lv. 1' has been activated in the background]
[You are one step closer to the conditions to use the exclusive skill '????? Lv. ?']
[You are close to the conditions to use the exclusive skill 'Genesis Lv. 1']
[Several Constellations laugh at the Dokkaebi 'Youngki']
[Several Constellations are curious about you]
You waved away the messages with an irritated sound leaving you, the pain behind your eyes disappearing as soon as you did so. You would have to look at those later.
Shaking your head to chase away the lingering pain you turned back to look at Youngki, who was now looking at you with apprehension. "Now then," You began, "Do you what's the fastest killer of infant streams like yours?"
Youngki shook his head like a little kid and floated just a bit closer to you, staring at you as if you had all the answers to the universe, the galaxy still held close to his chest.
"Boredom." You spoke innocently, "Now, I don't know about the constellations, but no sponsor of mine would ever wait half an hour for nothing interesting to happen." You explained, putting your other hand into your pocket, the very embodiment of nonchalance. "Matter of fact, they'd be gone after ten minutes and wouldn't waste their time with you ever again." Something dark inside you found it amusing how the Dokkaebi's face grew more and more horrified as you continued to speak.
[The constellation who likes to change gender nods at your words]
The message scared the little guy even more than your words had; you were certain he would've had a heart attack the moment the message had appeared if he could.
"Fortunately for you, I'm something of an entertainer myself." The devil himself would have been jealous of the charming smile you gave Youngki, "So, how would the mighty constellations like raise the stakes?"
You were playing a dangerous game; like Russian roulette, only the constellations didn't need a gun, bullets, or a kick in the ass from lady luck to cut your life short. You couldn't make any mistakes, after all, there was no way to rewind time.
[You are one step away from being able to use the exclusive skill 'Genesis Lv. 1']
[Several constellations want you to elaborate]
"It's simple really," You shrugged. "A Constellation may choose to take off three minutes off the clock, in exchange for say...a 100 coins added to the overall reward." You explained, adding that the overall time left couldn't be less that 3 minutes, you were human after all.
[Several constellations look at one another]
"Or don't." You shrugged, pulling your hands out of your pockets, the hidden switch blade grasped tightly in your closed fist. "There's no shame in admitting you are afraid to lose your money~" You teased—
[The constellation who likes to change gender laughs at your boldness]
— It was the boldest, and dumbest, thing you could have ever done.
[A constellation has agreed to your terms]
Fortunately for you, fortune favored the bold.
[The time limit has been reduced: 27:24 → 24:24]
[The Compensation has been increased: 300 → 400 coins]
You smirked to yourself, but the smirk fell quickly when a different message popped up.
[The clear conditions have been changed: Kill TWO or more living creatures]
You cursed to yourself. You had known this might happen, yet you still hadn't expected it; a stray line in TWSA echoed in your mind as if to mock you: [The thrill seekers will always ask for more death]
That last message was like a fatal crack in the dam, and soon many more messages flooded your vision, pain blooming in your head as you watched the time rapidly decrease as the compensation increased and clear conditions changed. The other people watched you with growing worry and horror, yet even this wasn't enough to spark their survival instincts into action.
By the end of it, the compensation had risen to 900 coins, the time had decreased to just 9 minutes and 20 seconds, and the kill requirement had risen to 6 or more.
You hummed as you stared at the holographic screen deep in thought. You should temper your greed, yet as you looked up at the Dokkaebi, your eyes positively glinting, you knew you couldn't resist the tempting pull of fooling the 'Divine'.
"You know, if you wanted to make this even more interesting..." You paused, before shaking your head in an exaggerated motion. "No," You waved your hand dismissively, turning on your heel. "I don't think you could afford it."
You were only able to take a single step before the furry fairy had zoomed around to face you at the speed of light, stuttering out pleas to stop. A message from the, no doubt irritated, constellations popped up, only to be waved away without being read. "What?" You asked innocently, a new message appearing before your eyes.
[Some constellations are insulted, and wish to know your offer]
"Double the rewards and you can half the current time by half." You said, before quickly adding. "Without increasing the amount of creatures we have to kill, there are only so many people here." You waved your hand around in a vague gesture. "I swear to you, this will cause quite the commotion, and wouldn't that be entertaining?"
Right as you asked, a holographic video feed popped in the center of the restaurant, screams filling the silent restaurant, showing people killing each other all over the country.
[Die! Die!]
[No, please!]
[Don't hurt me!]
You could tell the specific moment when every single person figured out what you were doing. The collective fear in the restaurant so strong you could feel it on your tongue as you breathed. "So, what do you say?" You asked as if you didn't notice anything, looking up at the small Dokkeabi.
[Multiple constellations consider you a fool]
"Maybe I am," You admitted, "But fools make for great stories."
Your nonchalant answer seemed to shock the people into finding their own. Almost immediately after you had finished people began shouting:
"Don't listen to them!"
"Damn brat do you want us all killed!"
"Please spare me!"
"I don't want this!"
[The constellations accept your offer]
You didn't even wait for the next pop up windows to open, "Chin-Mae, now!" You ordered, your voice silencing all others. Something inside your skull shuddered, a thought that didn't belong to you whispering in your ears:
[The exclusive skill 'From the Shadows Lv. 1' has finished preparing, execute?]
Yes.
[The exclusive skill 'From the Shadows Lv. 1' has been executed]
A shiver raced down your spine, you could feel it in your bones, like something in the bedrock of the world had snapped.
A second later something black flew towards you. You just barely managed to catch it, slamming it violently on to the table, black sludge exploding over your hand, clothes and the people seated there.
...
[You have achieved the ‘First Kill’ achievement!]
[You have killed a living creature]
[100 coins have been earned as additional compensation.]
[You have killed a living creature]
[100 coins have been earned as additional compensation.]
...
Message upon message appeared before your eyes, you were quick to wave them all away before they made you head explode. You stepped back, the seated patrons staring at the crushed lobster eggs staining the tablecloth before looking up at you in bewilderment.
[Several constellations are displeased]
"Oh don't be like that," You rolled your eyes, holding up your hand, still stained black from lobster caviar. "The rules never stated that I had to kill humans, and lobster eggs are living creatures." You wiped off the black sludge staining your hand on the less noticeable portion of your clothes, knowing you would need to find a change of clothes after the scenario was over; blood and lobster sludge did not look good on you. "It isn't my fault you left the rules so vague."
[The constellation ‘Children of Mischief and Chaos’ are impressed by your scheme]
[The constellation who likes to change gender is impressed by your wit]
By mere chance you glanced to your side, only to see Chin-Mae standing in front of the lobster tank, the female lobster wriggling in his hold as it tried to protect the valuable eggs held under her tail. His other hand held the eggs, yet you could see it shaking, all of his attention concentrated on the videos of slaughter that were still playing above you.
"Chin-Mae, you moron, destroy tho!-"
You slapped your palm over your mouth as soon as your voice had registered in your brain, but it was in vain.
Every single person turned to Chin-Mae, ready to descend upon him like rabid dogs.
What have you done...
"Get him!"
[The constellations laugh at you]
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