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btsmosphere · 5 months ago

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Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 14: Cover Me

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: An unprecedented strike at the heart of bangtan leaves you baring yours.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 5.7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, (supernatural) animal attack, injury

a/n: if this whole time the slow burn has been me leaning nearer to a candle with a lighter... now is where I finally let the flame catch🤭👀

The one good thing to come of your escapade was, unexpectedly, quite a plethora of entertaining tales designed to make you feel better. As it turned out, most of the boys had also been just as, if not more, stupid than you on occasion.

While your body was exhausted, and smiling pulled at the cuts on your face, you couldn’t help yourself. All of you would be in bed long after the sun rose at this rate, but right now you made no complaint as you fell back against the couch with laughter. Even Yoongi, the butt of the current story, bore a begrudging grin.

“I still can’t believe it!” Jimin cackled, falling over Yoongi’s lap dramatically. In all honesty, you didn’t know how he even managed to speak around his giggles, “those innocent people just wanted to have a fun night!”

“Most of them were innocent-”

“And the non-innocent among them were terrified when the disco lights got hijacked,” you deadpanned.

Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“I was in a bad mood.”

“You heard it here: don’t mess with our Yoongi, you can’t imagine what he’s capable of,” Jin teased.

“It’s less of an abuse of power than stopping an entire highway of traffic just so the Kan CEO couldn’t get away,” Yoongi responded, eyes pointedly fixing on Jimin.

Jimin’s head snapped up, surprised by the turn towards him. His hand tightened on V’s, but the next second he scoffed a laugh.

“He deserved it!”

“That’s the reason every time one of you makes a fool of yourself,” Jin smiled. “You can be stupid and they can still deserve it.”

His eyes flicked over to you, then. While embarrassment still washed over you, it gave way to a sheepish smile, your private response.

Sinking into the warmth of the squishy sofa, a smile laced your lips, not leaving, as your friends kept laughing and poking fun. The night went on, eyes beginning to droop and laughter growing sleepy.

They had welcomed you back with understanding. It was more than you could have hoped for, some hours ago fighting for your life in the cold.

This was your home. And the man who once wanted you gone had been the one to bring you back.

Jungkook hadn’t sat beside you. After the revelations you had shared in the bathroom, perhaps your both needed some reeling space. But you noticed his eyes on you from his spot opposite, and found your smile came easily.

Though he didn’t return it, he wasn’t cold. His expression unwavering, his brows were almost imperceptibly creased with intrigue.

You only let your body’s haze of exhaustion wash through you, not trying to read closer into his demeanour. Although you may not understand him half the time, you knew one thing for sure, and for tonight, that was enough.

He still wanted you here.

Noise drenched the space, wrenching you from sleep. Even while your eyes were still opening, your body moved without you, getting your legs under you.

Covers thrown off, the relative cold shocked you fully to your senses before another crunch shook the very walls.

Suddenly very awake, your brain whizzed through the last dizzying seconds. And didn’t land very far from the initial, sleep-crazed and panicked conclusion that you were dying.

The crunch was interrupted before it even finished ringing out, by another noise, splintering through the air. An immense thud of something hitting the ground buzzed through the floorboards beneath your feet.

Heart hammering as if trying to match the cacophony assaulting you, you sprinted for the door. You threw it open and stopped dead.

Sudden, brilliant light assaulted you. Of course it was light; you had all stayed up far too late after yesterday. So much for a rest.

But the light didn’t come from the window.

It came from the gaping hole in the ceiling.

Hardly daring blink, you let your eyes strain in shock and staggered from your doorway. A chunk of rubble sat in the hall, between yours and the others’ bedrooms. Gaping, you looked to the chasm above you, beyond which was sky.

Just then, another movement drew you back to earth.

You had never seen Namjoon with bedhead before, your scrambled brain realised as you met eyes with your bewildered leader through a doorway.

And then darkness plummeted between you.

Thunder deafened you, and you were forced to jump back from a shower of debris. Beyond the caving of the roof, a roar rumbled. Not another sound of stone or brick; it was like an animal.

You readied your hands, the only thing you could do.

The wall of wreckage settled so high you could no longer see Namjoon. But the others must be awake, too. Whatever the hell was going on, you would take it together.

A shape loomed then in the open space, blocking out the sun. Before you could make out more than a silhouette, it stomped closer, the building shuddering beneath it. Dust rained down in the thin remaining streams of sunlight.

Then, all at once, it pounced through the hole it had opened, and was filling the air with its great roar.

Rubble cracked under its feet. The floor shook. The doors rattled – before the thing lashed out an immense arm, and the wood splintered like paper.

So it had arms. And legs, poised beneath it like a predator. And teeth.

Eyes adjusting, you honed in. You didn’t like what you saw.

Unfortunately, it saw you too.

The beast’s furry head twisted your way, fixing you with eyes you would never forget. Its jaws opened, and your power surged within you at the same moment it lunged-

Then shot sideways in a blur. It fell with the crunch of its own weight, a lump of masonry disintegrating around it.

Aborting your shot at the last second, you fell back against the wall, blindly throwing your arms up as claws slashed through the air inches from you in the fall. Bricks flew, slamming dents into plaster.

You stayed there, fixed in place, gasping. Not just because of the near-miss.

You knew this beast.

A blur and Jimin was in front of you, feet skidding to a halt among the dust and smithereens. Looking up at him in shock, you found his face hardened, nostrils flaring as he glared towards the creature.

He stuck a hand under your nose, but as you took it, a lumbering shape reappeared in the corner of your eye.

Clutching your hand tighter, Jimin stepped back.

The monster whizzed around, limbs flailing. Nothing it came into contact with could put up a fight; the tv sparked as talons sliced through the centre. It fell uselessly to the ground and burst into flames behind the creature, who drew to its full height. The glinting gaze was the same, unperturbed by Jimin’s rock-solid attack.

“What is that?” Jimin hissed in horror.

You could have answered, but shock had words sticking in your throat.

Everything moved at once, the monster leaping forwards again. It forced you and Jimin apart, both diving away from the vicious claws. Its bulk smashed against the wall, but it was already scrambling up, readying a new strike.

Crawling below the kitchen table on your elbows, you looked over your shoulder in time to see the eyes swivel straight to you again. Dread overflowed in your chest.

But it got no further.

An impact knocked its head sideways, though not off-balance this time. Merely a jolt, as if dodging a fly. Growling deep in its throat, it looked around.

At the same moment, you found the form streaking through the air which had struck it. Hobi.

Uncaring for the chairs you sent crashing to the floor, you shot up from your shelter and took aim. Your electric blue took out the arm that threatened your friend.

And so it was back on you.

Thundering steps pounded closer and you were backed into the wall. Another strong blast hit it square in the chest, but only served to anger him more. Every nerve screamed at you to dodge, flee sideways, but you squared your jaw and let him run at you.

Remembering what Kuyang had told you, you hoped the same weak spot still held true on Frank. You had never actually had to use it before.

“Y/N!”

Jin’s yell of your name threw you off, tearing your eyes from the spot on Frank’s head. Flooding over the pile of rubble came the rest of your team. Jin cocked a gun by his head. Your eyes darted between the monster and your friends, the world slowing for a breath.

“No…” you whispered. Frank was almost upon you.

Jin fired. The crack of a bullet made Frank turn, the sweet spot on his head now out of sight.

Cursing, you ducked as he made impact with the wall, apparently forgetting you were ever there. Scrambling clear of his reach, you found your feet. But Frank was already moving again.

Among the mass of matted hair, you saw the tail of a dart poking from his back. A tranquilizer. While a good idea, you knew that it wouldn’t knock Frank out by a long shot. He needed strong sedation, and a lot at that. Your lab wasn’t equipped for that.

All they had done was piss him off more. Your heart thundered along with Frank’s steps as he lunged for your friends.

With a sweep of his hand, V shot up a wall of purple flames. Frank bellowed and swiped at them, unfazed by the burn. Orange fire burned thicker your end of the room, spreading from the tv to the rug, and you leapt around it, firing at the monster’s back. Anything to keep him from your brothers.

Sure enough, Frank turned, but a new shape came at him. Your heart squeezed as Hobi flew so close by – near enough to the weak spot on his head, but he didn’t know about that. Among the crashing and roaring of fire and fighting, he would never hear you. Your comms were safely tucked away in a room downstairs. This was a fight you hadn’t seen coming.

Frank’s eyes locked onto the boy coming for him. Hobi landed a solid kick and whirled away, but Frank wasn’t giving up. A slash of talons followed.

“No!” you screamed, firing with precision into Frank’s eyes.

The creature stumbled, claws fumbling wildly, but it hadn’t been enough. Hope’s form dropped hard to the floor, rolling away. He stayed there, still on the floorboards.

Jimin marched closer, a hand raised, and Frank was slammed back into the wall. Jimin flung his arm down and Frank’s face was smashed on the rubble, dropping to his knees.

With the brief distraction as cover, you raced towards Hobi. Skidding to your knees in front of him, a breath punched out of you as you saw his eyes open.

“Shit, Hobi.”

Reaching out, you circled your arm around his shoulders and hauled him to sit with your help. You winced along with him, but you had to move. A long gash ran down his chest.

“I’m… okay,” he panted.

“Bullshit,” you spat.

A new holler from the beast had you whirling to look over your shoulder. Frank held Jimin in a gargantuan fist, raising him from the ground.

“Jimin!” you cried, but your voice was drowned out in Frank's roar, and the bursts of desperate rifle fire from Jin.

V had already leapt into action, murderous purple tinting his eyes as he brought flames up around the beast, swamping him. Jimin’s eyes still burned pink, despite his immobilisation. His brows drew down in focus, and a new piece crumbled from the roof onto the monster’s skull.

Though it stumbled, the creature didn’t even fall.

“We need to get out of here,” you hissed.

Though Hobi sagged against you, you felt him nod. Easing him to rest against the wall, you stood.

A silhouette darting through the flames emerged. You had never seen V like this. His expression was clouded with dark, wild anger and he leapt for Jimin, catching hold of Frank’s arm and swinging from it.

Blazing purple circled Frank’s flesh along every inch where V made contact.

An ear-splitting howl of pain and rage ripped from the monster’s throat. Throwing his arms to the side, he tossed both V and Jimin who came flying towards you. In mid-air, Jimin caught hold of V, curling around him before they both came tumbling to the ground at your feet.

Thrashing his immense arms, Frank blundered out of the column of fire, leaving it to eat up the building behind him.

Seeing Jimin and V untangling themselves, bruised but mobile, you stepped around them.

“Get out of here,” you told them with urgency, “take Hope.”

“Y/N-!”

Jimin called after you, but you were already starting forwards.

The only one left standing was Jin – where were the others? – so you had to put a stop to this before anyone else got hurt. Dashing forwards, you found Frank hadn’t made a target of you yet. He took his fury out on your house, which was quickly devolving into little more than wreckage.

A glance at Jin showed him backing away, to your relief. In the other direction, Hobi was sandwiched between Jimin and V, rushing between the violet flames to escape through the garage.

A booming roar brought you back to Frank.

The monster stomped his foot, gaping jaws wide and snarling as he lifted his arms. Claws dug into brick, tearing off a chuck of ceiling. You jumped as he sent it crashing to the ground in a fog of dust.

A wall of rubble was stacked in front of you, but Frank’s enormous foot cracked it easily as he stepped over it.

Red fire spat at your back, the heat immense. You couldn’t back up further.

Frank’s giant fist descended, grip circling a couch, the end of which was already flaming. He lifted it, flung it to the side. Removing it from his path as he advanced on you.

Below it, someone moved. Ducking underneath, heading straight for you. Next moment, the figure crashed against you, throwing you to the side with strong hands gripping your arms.

They flipped, taking the brunt of the fall to their back as you slid together among the debris.

Instantly, you were struggling against them, throwing the arms off. They let you go, and you struggled to your feet, rounding on them.

“Jungkook?”

He staggered up too, reaching for your arm.

“We need to go,” he panted, “we can’t fight it.”

“I can,” you protested, shaking him off.

But he sprung forwards, grabbing you. With a startled cry, you were twisted around. His arm caught your waist, yanking you against him, placing him closest to Frank to fire a golden beam at the claws which had swiped for you.

“I thought we went over this?” Jungkook’s voice was ragged in your ear.

A new pounce from Frank sent you both diving over the rubble. You landed hard on your elbows, Jungkook’s arm on your back.

“We did,” you gasped, scrambling to right yourself, eyes never resting between Jungkook’s confusion and the looming threat of Frank. “But I mean it this time. I know how- argh!”

Frank swept a forceful kick at the table. It cracked under the force, two halves shooting into the air to crash against the kitchen cabinets.

Dropping to the floor, you rolled away from the hunk of wood as it clattered back to earth between you and Jungkook.

In the haze of dancing flames and cascading dust, thick in the air, you met Jungkook’s eyes.

“Just trust me!” you shouted, the words wrenching deep from your chest. Your chest rose and fell sharply with exertion. Frank was running again. You had had too many chances already; this had to be the one.

With one last glance back at Jungkook, you found his eyes blazing. But with determination, not anger.

“Cover me?” you called.

A sharp nod was all you needed.

Not sparing any moment to doubt, you took off. Charged straight at the beast.

Just as you trusted he would, Jungkook rushed the other way, firing gold right into Frank’s heart. Its predatory eyes followed Jungkook, while its back turned to you.

Frantic heart spurring you on, you fixed your eyes on the spot you aimed for.

And jumped.

There was no way Frank didn’t feel the human landing bodily against his back. The moment you made contact, you grabbed on fiercely, anticipating the enraged lurch of his body as he tried to throw you off.

Dangling from his shoulder, you swung a leg up, securing around his neck.

Dazzling gold knocked a fist aimed for you off-course. Jungkook had your back. You couldn’t afford to spare any attention on where the next one would come from.

Reaching up, you grabbed onto Frank’s head, fingers closing around a bony ridge that lined his monstrous skull. He shook harshly, making you cling with your every muscle as your hand fumbled over his skin.

And then you pressed down. Scrubbing your hand back and forth, the effect was almost instant.

The shaking stopped. You didn’t. This patch should knock him out for at least half an hour, you remembered.

Then Frank dropped, his entire mass hitting the ground as one. You were thrown down with him, head jerking forwards and stopping inches from the floor.

There you stayed for a long second. Just panting in the sudden stillness.

At last, you rolled off the monster’s form, bracing your landing with hands against the ground. A bit shaky from the adrenaline crashing through you, you let yourself smile, and looked up.

The place was a mess. If only you could have got to Frank sooner, it need not have escalated like this. But you had no way of telling your friends not to get involved. At least you had done it now, although the place was left a disaster scene of fire and debris.

Trying your best to ignore the crackling flames, you looked up to the figure silhouetted in front of them.

Jungkook looked back at you in total shock. His slack face was painted with a shade of bewildered horror.

“What. The hell.” He said flatly.

Huffing a laugh, you finally pushed yourself to your feet and wiped your hands on your trousers.

And found yourself knocked back by a fierce hug. The shock alone nearly swept you off your feet. As it was, you kept your ground and blinked, startled, into Jungkook’s shoulder as his arms wrapped fast around you.

It was all you could do to get your arms to stop hovering, and tentatively hold him in return. Not to mention the effort it took to ignore the frightening soar of your heart under his touch. Surely he would feel it thumping against him, with how tight he gripped you in that moment.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” he half-laughed, stirring the hair above your ear.

Forcibly shutting your gaping mouth, you chuckled, face falling forwards against his shoulder.

“So you keep saying,” you replied wryly.

Finally, you summoned the courage to ease away from him. Honestly, you were a bit worried about the speed your heart was pumping the longer you touched, but it was strangely counter-intuitive to step out of his arms.

Jungkook found you with wide eyes, and slowly lowered his hands in a mirror of yours.

With an awkward laugh, you darted your gaze away.

“Kuyang made this guy,” you nodded down to the creature. Your eyes lingered the closed eyes and tantalising teeth that had always made you shudder back in your days at the lab. “We called him Frank.”

You weren’t sure Jungkook’s eyebrows could climb any higher.

“…Frank?”

“Yeah. Bit more fun than ‘Necrus X’, I suppose,” you shrugged, and stepped to Jungkook’s side.

He kept eyeing Frank.

“How long do we have?”

“He’ll wake up in around half an hour,” you told him.

His eyebrows pulled downwards a fraction, and he glanced around the space.

“How do we kill it?”

But your focus was distracted by a pitch floating through the air, growing closer. Looking up, you found your gaze on the empty hole torn in the roof.

Sirens.

People were arriving.

“Let’s not stick around to try.”

Jungkook seemed to agree with you, reaching for your hand in an instant. Then he was tugging you with him, towards the stairs leading underground to the training space. You never usually had to scale piles of rubble to get there, but the world did change very fast these days.

Near the peak of the mini-mountain, you took the chance to peer up through the cracks. Blue lights flashed somewhere near, and you had never heard so many people at once in this part of town.

Soon, Jungkook’s hand was urging you on, and you jogged down the stairs side-by-side.

“Looks like we’re busted,” you worried aloud.

Jungkook sighed, but it could have been from the exertion. Your feet met the training floor and you raced away together. He kept clutching your hand. Of course, you had expected him to let go the first chance he got, and yet you found yourself holding firmly in return. Must be the need for some kind of steady comfort after that fight. Right?

“Namjoon and Yoongi cleared us out,” Jungkook was saying. You had to force yourself to tune in, wresting your mind away from the ever-present warmth of his fingers around yours.

“I guess they’re prepared for something like this. They shut down all the tech, collected some documents. Destroyed some things too. It was almost like Namjoon was... ready for this? He told me to just get everyone out.”

“But how did they find us?” you frowned.

Turning down the corridor where Namjoon’s office lay, you saw Jungkook was right. The doors all stood open, nothing but darkness beyond.

Jungkook led you both to the end of the hall. You had never been here before, but somehow it hadn’t crossed your mind to question Jungkook about where you were going. He eased to a stop beside you then, unable to help a glance over his shoulder. Just in case.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, meeting your eyes. His shoulders slumped and he frowned to himself, shaking his head. “I mean, there was the car you saw tailing you guys. Maybe there were more. They tried again, or-”

There was no way either of you could know right now. It wouldn’t change anything.

Turning himself from that line of thought completely, Jungkook dropped your hand and approached the wall. You bit your tongue, your fingers retracting straight away at the lack of his warmth. It had felt strange, standing still and yet holding hands – no, not holding hands, but… grabbing. Out of necessity.

It just hadn’t crossed his mind to let go. You ignored the fact that once upon a time, it would have been the only thing either of you thought about until you could finally be rid of the other.

Shaking your head, you almost wiped your hand on your trousers. You stopped, for some reason, and just ran your thumb over your fingers instead.

In front of you, Jungkook reach for a fire extinguisher fixed to the wall. Raising your eyebrows, you prepared to tell him that the place really was past repairing, when he pushed down on it instead.

It moved, something clicking into place out of sight. In a blink, a square had emerged in the blank wall, and Jungkook pushed it out. A panel swung inwards, revealing empty space beyond.

Lifting a leg to swing inside, Jungkook turned to you with a smirk. It was your turn to be stunned.

“That sure is helpful,” you muttered, before starting forwards.

A bright laugh came from Jungkook as he hopped down into the passage.

“Namjoon-hyung really thought of everything.”

Humming your assent, you climbed through the opening. Jungkook secured the panel back into the wall. For a moment, you were submerged in total darkness, only sensing the click of your hiding place being concealed.

A weak light filtered to life above you after a few seconds of waiting. It illuminated Jungkook, who was looking up, clearly anticipating its arrival.

“Right.” He met your eyes, and swallowed. The space here was much thinner than outside, the walls forcing you nearer. “Let’s get moving.”

Nodding rapidly, you waited for him to turn and lead you on. Once his back was safely to you, you let out a breath, feeling your heart winding down in your chest. Some adrenaline trip you had been on, huh?

“Where are we going?” you asked, hurrying after him. Something about this place made you hush your voice, however illogical that was.

“It should get us a safe distance away,” Jungkook replied over his shoulder, “Namjoon had time to give me this. We’ll head to the coordinates he sends.”

The emergency lighting in the tunnel was sparse, and as you walked you fell through light and shade. Currently in a patch of darkness, you squinted to make out a small pager screen which Jungkook held up to show you.

So you carried on. With no idea where you were, or what was going on, you probably should have been freaking out a lot more. But right now, you had a direction. Somehow, following Jungkook eased your concern. You were glad he was the one with you...

Wow, that was something you shouldn’t admit out loud. You eyed the man in front of you, as if worried he could have read your thoughts. He only kept walking.

Eventually, the passage gave way to a set of industrial-looking metal stairs. Together, your footsteps clanged gently against the comfortable quiet.

At the top, you found a door made of thick metal. A grate set into it at eye-level let in the buzz of traffic beyond – and sirens.

Ahead of you, Jungkook peered through the small gaps, before stepping back to make way for you. He met your eyes with the same concern you felt. Was it safe for you out there? Looking down at yourself, you took in your attire. Neither of you were wearing anything particularly distinctive, having been surprised at home.

“Let’s not chance it,” Jungkook interrupted your thoughts, but you could hear the frustration concealed in his voice. Neither of you much fancied sitting around doing nothing at a time like this.

Better that than blowing the whole thing up by being hasty, though. You had learned that the hard way.

The passage widened, but not enough to sit face-to-face. So, agreeing with Jungkook, you joined him and sat at his side on the top step.

It was impossible not to feel his eyes on you. Or the weight of his arms from where he had hugged you, lingering like a phantom. Having him so close only teased what you had just felt, the gentle warmth where your shoulders brushed sending ripples over your skin.

“Your face,” Jungkook spoke, “it’s better.”

Swallowing, you lifted your head from the surface of your thoughts and back into his eyeline.

Sure enough, when you lifted a hand, there was no need for the trepidation in your fingertips. No pain returned your touch. The skin was totally smooth where Monsoon had broken it yesterday.

“This lifestyle does have some perks, then,” you shrugged.

Jungkook’s smile rewarded you.

“Hey, you wouldn’t change it for the world,” he retorted jokingly, elbow nudging your arm.

You gave a small chuckle, but it soon faded into a more distant smile.

“No,” you sighed. “I really wouldn’t.”

“That… that’s good.”

You had never really heard Jungkook fumble for his words like this before. Maybe his mind was elsewhere, like yours. Although ‘elsewhere’, in your case, was directly on him; you just couldn’t tell him that. Among all this chaos, it made no sense that he was the thing dominating your mind.

“Thank you for trusting me,” you offered into the newfound quiet.

Though Jungkook let the silence stretch out a little longer, one lone siren soaring through it, he found his voice eventually.

“I should have done it sooner.”

Turning to him fully, your heart threatened to burst again with the earnestness in his eyes.

“You did it at exactly the right time,” you shook your head, adamant, “and… it’s good to know I earned it. Just about, in any case.”

You couldn’t help the joke creeping in. Giving into your cowardice, you ducked with a self-depreciating laugh from the force of his gaze. A force all too soft for you to know what to do with. When he gave you fire, you could push back with something just as solid. But here, with his defences long abandoned, all you were met with was the terrifying prospect of falling right in.

“Hey!”

The hard edge that crept back into Jungkook's voice, surprising you with his ferocity, was almost a relief. But the spark in his eyes that trapped you in his stare wasn’t of anger. Something far from it.

“You’ve earned more than-”

His words choked off. It was only now you realised how breathless you were.

You were quickly giving in to the pull of his gravity, the words floating unsaid only dragging you in further.

Eclipsed by him as you were, you hardly registered the warbling siren that drew nearer outside, and passed by. All you could see was the way Jungkook’s eyes slipped treacherously downwards.

At the peak of the siren’s volume, he drew the smallest gasp, pushing himself away. Hands bracing on the step, he hovered, breathing harder now.

The way your heart lurched at the thought he might leave right now sealed your fate.

His eyes met yours with vaguely panicked apology. Before he even spoke, you had made up your mind.

“Sorry,” he breathed, “I shouldn’t-”

Some of the steely determination he always stirred up in you made itself known. You needed him to hear, to see how certain you were of this.

“I think you should.”

In one frozen moment, you saw the reservation flee from his eyes. Rising temptation replaced it. His own hunger terrified him, but yours matched it, always, since the beginning.

You felt the moment he gave in. Felt it in the fingertips on your jaw, the heat rushing through you- the lips on yours.

In one movement, Jungkook had allowed himself to fall, and fall he did. He surged towards you, taking your face between his hands, kissing you with a blistering urgency. The vigour in his movements drowned out all trace of caution, everything flung aside the instant you kissed him back.

He needed to feel you.

Your body sang against his, warmth erupting in your chest. Every move of his lips stirred it further. Supple, like the rest of him, their softness belied the power there which he had never hid from you.

You relished it, the exhilarating force making your head spin. And you gave back equal fire, too, grazing his lower lip with your teeth. It summoned an electric sound from his throat, a grunt that accompanied his hands roaming further, hungrily running down your back, tugging you onto him.

He tasted gold.

It was a taste you knew, from his powers when he had trained you, when he had rescued you- yet so tantalisingly new in the way he gave himself to you now, painting it in laves along your mouth.

His desperate sigh, ripped from his lungs, told you he was being ruined the same way you were from this kiss. And you weren’t ready for it to end. You had no idea how long you drank him in, surrendering like you had to no one else. Your world was lit only by the glow his every touch made bloom on your skin: his arms around you, his lips, his tongue pressing between them and making your eyes flutter back.

You had repelled each other for so long. Now, at last, you had given in to the magnetism, and you could no longer bear an inch of space between you.

Even as you split apart, panting hot across each other’s faces, you welcomed the way Jungkook kept you pressed flush against his chest. Dozens of times, you succumbed to each other’s pull again, lips colliding to indulge in a desperate one-more, becoming two and three and...

Each a brief, fruitless struggle to escape the force drawing you together.

It had been there all this time.

You drew back again, panting, in time to see a crackle of gold spark in Jungkook’s heavy-lidded eyes. It mingled with a jet of your own, reflected blue dancing with the gold in his iris.

Stiffening, you remembered all the times your power had turned him away. The way he had run from you when you last lost control. The dreadful truth he had told you last night, about what Bolt’s power had done.

But his hands only clawed over your sweater, dragging you nearer again as he stared up at you with such open eyes.

“Fuck,” his voice was raw, barely more than a ragged breath, “you were right, Y/N. They are beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Every time, you never expected Jungkook to stun you more. Of course, he outdid himself at every turn, leaving you scrabbling for words again, as you were right now.

Eyes drinking in your gaping expression, his loosened into a grin. The lazy shift into a deep, breathy laugh was like the sun coming out. You refused to look away.

You couldn’t refuse when his arm tugged you back against his chest, though.

Flopping there with a breathless laugh of your own, you closed your eyes, pushed your face against his neck. The energy to question this, to resist what had been building, had abandoned you, and you were ready to accept it.

How could you not, when his touch made you feel like this? When you had proved yourselves to one another time and time over?

You realised it all now, as you listened to the mingled sounds of your breathing with Jungkook’s.

You realised something else, too.

The sirens had stopped.

Thank you for reading!!! I appreciate all those lovely people who leave comments🥰💜

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#jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook series #jungkook mafia #jungkook x you #jeongguk imagine #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jeongguk x reader #bts supernatural au #bts mafia au #bts superhero au #jungkook superhero

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scekrex · 6 months ago

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There's a chance you've already done this prompt before but it's hard for me to check so if you've already done a fic like this dont worry Abt it! Adam x Male!reader btw.

Maybe a "I wish you were a girl" situation, but more from the readers point of view? Like he knows Adam has ever shown interest in girls, and constantly bitches about his wives. (And only ever flirts with random angels who are girls) So when Reader realizes he has a crush on him, he has doubts and never ever thinks that Adam would ever like him back. (Even tho I'm a firm believer of bi Adam.)

I don't know where to go from there, but maybe the reader figures out he DOES have a chance somehow? That or just straight up hurt/no comfort...

Okay so I don't think I've written this or something similar before and if u have I don't remember so here ya go <3

He likes a girl and I'm not a girl

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you

For a guy who claimed to be a simple man, Adam was quite complicated in your eyes, though that had more to do with his behavior towards you than with anything else. On the outside everything was fine, the two of you were just pals - quite close pals but nothing more.

On the inside however - or specifically on your inside - the knowledge of being ‘just friends’ ate you up like a five star meal. Because how were you supposed to enjoy the beauty of Heaven if a certain brunette kept shattering your heart over and over again? How were you supposed to enjoy the divine afterlife they had promised you when the man you liked kept flirting with girls - girls who only looked half as good as you, girls who were good at sucking his dick and making pretty eyes at him, girls who were whores. You desperately wanted to grab Adam by his shoulders and shake him, you wanted to shake some sense into him, wanted to punch his face and kiss his lips at the same time and while you definitely were able to punch his face without ruining the friendship, you were quite unable to kiss his soft looking and inviting lips without setting the bond the two of you had formed on fire.

Adam was not into guys, he had made that clear over the past thousand years, he was ‘dating’ - more like hooking up with - women and women only and even if the first man would be into men, there was no guarantee that he would be into you. But there wasn’t even the slightest chance for you, Adam wasn’t into men and you - a man - were into Adam. It was doomed to fail, doomed to tear your heart apart over and over again but you refused to leave his side. You cared about the stupid fucker and while it burned to see him happy with women - women who weren’t you and you whow ould never be a woman - you were glad that Adam had found something that brought him joy, even if that meant that you would suffer from the indescribable pain of unrequired love.

A price that sounded so meaningful, so expensive but then you would see Adam’s golden eyes, filled with pride and pure happiness whenever he talked to you about whatever chick he had fucked over the weekend. It was easy to tune his words out and simply watch his facial expressions change, it was so easy to ignore the fact that he was literally telling you about having sex with women you have never met and would never meet. And yet it was so hard.

If only God would have made you a woman, a beautiful one that would be Adam’s type. And while your looks would fit Adam’s type, your gender very much didn’t, oh the price you were willing to pay to be a woman just for one day, just so you could be Adam’s for a single day. But that would not happen, neither of it would. God would not turn you into a woman and you wouldn’t be Adam’s, not for a day and certainly not for longer.

The worst part of it all? Adam’s unintentional yet hurtful comments.

“Y’know,” he had once said after one of his gigs as he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders. You were expecting the first man to tell you which of the women in the crowd he’d invite backstage but instead of doing that he had leaned in close, so close that his hot breath was hitting your cheek. “If you were a chick I’d make you mine in no fucking time, dude.”

If you were a chick.

But you weren’t and as long as that was the case Adam was not interested in you in any other way than being friends. And while you had laughted it off, his words had haunted you for days, fuck they had even followed you in your sleep.

Or another time when you and him had gotten shitfaced during the boys night out. His arm had been around your waist, his other hand was roaming over your body stopping at your chest, squeezing it, “For a dude you have fucking nice tits, man.” The alcohol had been audible in his voice and despite the fact that he was aware that you weren’t one of his girls, he kept touching you.

The first man was sitting next to you, your side was pressed flush against his as his arm was resting on the backrest of the couch right behind your head. Confidently he spoke, “So y’know how you’re into dudes?” Now that was straight up the dumbest question the first man had ever asked you and lets just say that he asked quite a lot of stuff. You fake gasped at him, “What, I’m into dudes? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” That earned you a playful smack on the back of your head, turning your shocked expression into an amused grin. “Fuckhead,” the first man mumbled, “I’m being fucking serious here.” You simply shook your head in amusement, not quite sure where this conversation would lead you to - why was Adam suddenly interested in the fact that you liked men? Was he trying to set you up with someone?

“Yeah, why though?” you hummed right before you took a sip of your drink - a thing you regretted only seconds later when Adam said, “Do you know any fuckable dudes?” The sip wasn’t swallowed, instead you spit it out in pure shock.

What did he just say?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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haloshornsinkstains · 1 year ago

Text

I Believe What You Said [James Wilson x Reader]

I have been bingewatching House, and I fell back in love with the adorable golden retriever of an oncologist. And I actually managed to write!

Warnings: hinted smut, female reader, reader has a last name (there is a reason), no use of y/n, House is House, reader is 30

“You called a hooker to the hospital? I’m telling mom!” Wilson sighed and went to apologise but the woman with him merely laughed, “then I guess you won’t want to hear about my two for one special? I’m told it’s knee-trembling.” “Oh I like her, hire her again.” “I don’t think he’s going to go away any time soon, I’ll see you later?” The woman smiled softly at Wilson and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks James.” As she reached the door she stopped and glanced back at the two men, “nice to meet you House.” “So, you got her card? How much does she charge an hour?” “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.” Wilson sighed heavily, settling back into his chair. “What do you want House?” “I want to know who the hot piece of ass in your office was.” House wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re disgusting. And it may come as a surprise to you, but sometimes people other than you actually come to consult me on cases. Now, what did you want?” “Oh, I’ve got something way more interesting to look into now.” House grinned, making his way back towards the door and leaving a baffled oncologist behind him.

“So, who’s the hot new doctor you hired?” “Hello to you too House.” Cuddy hummed, not looking up from her computer. “I haven’t hired any new doctors.” “Well there’s no way Wilson has the balls to bring a hooker to a hospital. Short, stupid accent, wears a lot of black, doesn’t quite have your cleavage but-” he cupped his hands around his chest “-about yae big?” “You’re disgusting.” Cuddy huffed. “Why do you care?” “What, I can’t get to know the fourth ex-Mrs Wilson?” He smirked. “You know, I think she’s young enough to be his daughter.” “She’s 30!” “So you do know who she is?!” He looked practically elated, or as elated as House could get, “c’mon mom, little Jimmy gets all the cool new friends.” “She was a trauma surgeon, and if you actually did the clinic hours you were supposed to do you would have met her before now.” Cuddy clicked a few buttons on her computer and smiled, “and would you look at that, your clinic duty starts in ten minutes.” For the first time in months House didn’t whine or complain, instead headed straight for the door and turned in the direction of the clinic.

“He has three ex wives you know.” “Really?” The woman laughed, flicking over the next page in her file, “that’s extremely impressive for a nine year old. I’ll let his mother know.” “Hilarious. Wilson, not little Timmy in there.” She paused, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’m not sure what that has to do with me, or this patient, but I’ll keep it in mind… unless you really were thinking about that two for one offer? Or calling dibs.” She didn’t wait for his response, slipping into exam room two and closing the door. House smiled to himself, picking a random file from the stack. This was going to be fun. Each time he bumped into her while collecting files he asked progressively more personal questions, about her, about her intentions with the oncologist, about her medical history, or just things to get a rise out of her. After his last patient she was just stood by the desk waiting for him, expectantly. “You get one more question.” “So, how many doctors in this hospital have you slept with?” She tapped her finger against her chin, “three. Why, you want to make it four? So you know my family history, how many doctors I’ve slept with, how many times I’ve spoken to your boyfriend this month, and yet you never asked my name. Have fun with that Sherlock.” “Oh please, your name is up there on the clinic rota,” he grumbled, gesturing to the board behind him, “who wastes a question on useless stuff like that?” She just laughed and walked off, throwing a wave over her shoulder as she disappeared through the doors. House, still a little peeved he couldn’t get to her, turned to study the clinic rota. Next to his name, in shiny black letters, ‘Dr. Smith’. Great, just great.

House threw open the door to his office, slightly disappointed that no one on the team jumped any more. “You two, go run a PET scan on the patient's brain. And you,” he gestured his cane at Cameron, “go find me Dr. Smith, tell her I need a consult in Wilson’s office.” “Why would we run-” “Are you going to give me a clue on-” “Out. Daddy needs time to think.” The three stared dumbly at him as he made his way back towards the door. “Go on kiddies, scram.” Sighing the team set off for their different jobs, Cameron muttering to herself about how many Dr Smith’s there must be in this hospital. House headed in the other direction, still thinking, until he stopped outside Wilson’s door. Rapping his cane against the wood three times he pushed open the door and walked in. “What are you up to?” “I believe that’s usually my line. Hello House.” The older man made a childish noise and dropped himself on the office sofa, “with this Dr Smith. Did you know she’s slept with three Doctors in this hospital? I mean, I can’t blame them, that ass is amazing-” “You’re a pig. And what I’m doing is working…” Wilson hummed, staring at his papers for a few moments before dropping them on the desk, “how do you know how many doctors she’s slept with?” “Apparently we share clinic hours. So, you’re trying to be the fourth or what?” “No, no, we are not doing this. Since when do you do your clinic hours?” “Since there was something interesting in there.” House smirked, “so you are trying to be number four?” “House,” Wilson frowned at his friend, tone hardening slightly, “I am not answering that question.” “So I can be number four? Sweet, wonder if she meant it about that two for one deal. Think Cuddy would be in?” “No and no.” “So you are interested in her,” House grinned, “Wilson’s got a girlfriend!” “Men and Women can be friends, even if the woman in question has an amazing ass,” Wilson sighed “you happy now?” “Ecstatic. What about you?” Wilson’s head whipped towards the door, where Dr Smith was leaning against the doorframe. “I think I could hear a few more compliments. You wanted me?” “Yeah, my place about 8?” She chuckled and shook her head at the diagnostician. “Still not the best offer in the room, Cameron said you wanted a consult?” “Yeah, got a patient suffering from a heartbreaking lack of sex.” He grumbled. “Hire a hooker. Or sweet talk James really nice. Now, is there a real issue or can I go back to my day job?” She glanced between the two, one eyebrow raised. “I do have a patient with hallucinations, hearing voices, the whole shebang. He’s 39.” She hummed, sitting on the couch beside House. “This is new?” “Yep.” “Very late onset for schizophrenia, personally I’d be asking the oncologist not the psych.” “Tumour is a possibility.” Wilson agreed, wandering over to the couch as well. “Great, good thing I asked them to scan his brain.” House sighed, pushing himself to his feet. After he left the woman smiled at Wilson, “so, you want to get a coffee and go over that case?” “I’d love to.”

“So my ass is amazing huh?” Dr. Smith grinned, grin only widening as she watched the oncologist splutter, his face turning red. “I can’t believe House did that to me.” “Oh I can, Cameron went to like eight Dr Smith’s before she got to me, and so do you. But that’s not an answer Dr Wilson.” Wilson sighed, staring hard at the spill now on the table. “I was just winding House up.” She hummed, taking a careful sip of her coffee. “Well that’s a shame, ‘cause now I can’t say the same thing back without getting written up for harassment.” More of the coffee splashed onto the table, “you… what?” “I’m not blind.” Wilson just stared blankly at her, a pink flush sitting prettily across his cheeks. “But you’re… you know I’m a decade older than you right?” “You know I’m too old to care right?” She stared him down, though her lips still turned up at the corners ever so slightly. “You can say no, I got over being offended by that back in college.” “Well that has to be a lie. It’s not that I want to say no-” “So, Thursday night? I finish at 7.” Wilson could only watch, stunned, as she downed the rest of her coffee and walked off.

“There’s something wrong with her, and I’m going to find it,” House grumbled as he limped back into the office, throwing his badge onto the table, “one of you go pretend to be me in the clinic, I’m busy.” “You stole another doctor's personal file?” Cameron gaped. “I’m not even surprised.” Foreman sighed. House made shoo-ing motions as he sat behind his desk, starting to flip through the file. Less than an hour later he was slamming the file back down on Wilson’s desk. “She’s broken, thats why you want her.” “Ah yes, I definitely can’t like a gorgeous woman because she’s gorgeous.” His eyes flicked to the file and back to the computer, “of course you stole her notes. I’m disappointed but not surprised.” “She has depression.” House snapped. “That makes two of us.” “She can’t have kids.” “Ah yes, because my plan was to knock her up on the first date.” House narrowed his eyes. “You’re taking her on a date.” Wilson’s retort was interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by the person they’d just been discussing poking her head inside. “Bad time?” “No, it’s fine.” Wilson hummed, smiling softly. “You need me?” “Both of you actually,” her eyes drifted over the file on the desk, “you know, I’m not morally opposed to punching a cripple when they deserve it. You want copies of all my nudes too?” House grinned. “Yes.” “Ask James for them later, there’s a weird case in the clinic.” She grinned, nodding towards the door. “And since you have enough free time on your hands to steal my notes, you have enough free time to come look at this.” “You have nudes already?” Wilson frowned. “No?” “Not yet, hence the later. Keep up House.” As she walked off the two men glanced at each other, Wilson frowning at his best friends wicked grin. This was going to be a nightmare.

Thursday evening finally rolled around and the two doctors found themselves seated at a pretty nice restaurant, glasses of wine beside their plates and soft piano music trickling through the air. The woman smiled, leaning forwards slightly towards her date. “You know he followed us right?” She chuckled, nodding her head slightly. “Two tables over. You sure I’m not interrupting something between you two?” “Only him monopolising all my free time.” Wilson groaned, rubbing his temples. “I’m sorry about him.” “Don’t be, if I didn’t think I could handle him I wouldn’t be here. You don’t work at Princeton Plainsboro for years without knowing all about Gregory House.” She laughed. “Besides, he’s good fun to mess with.” “I’m glad,” Wilson smiled softly, “not that he’s messing with you, just that you don’t mind.” She gently rested her hand over his. “I finally managed to get you out on a date, a grumpy diagnostician with a fixation is not ruining this for me.” “Finally… you flatter me.” She shrugged, “I don’t really flatter people, but if it's working then I’m happy-” she sipped from her wine “-I’d be even happier if you agreed to come to my place and try some of my wines after this. I have quite the collection.” He blushed prettily, taking another sip of his own drink before nodding. “I. I think I would like that.” She smiled, taking another bite of her pasta. Wilson did the same, smiling back at her. Once their plates were empty and the last of the wine had disappeared she reached out and offered him her hand. As they walked past the table where House was sat she bent down and murmured into his ear ‘there are easier ways to get a threesome’ before walking out of the restaurant hand in hand with the oncologist. “I may have overexaggerated how good my wine collection is.” “I may not have really cared about the wine.” She laughed, pulling him to a stop so she could lean up and press her lips into his. “Good. My apartment is just around the corner, and I’m running low on patience.” If they both sped up their steps a little, and if they ended up pressed against each other outside her door too impatient to wait just a moment longer for the door to be opened, then there was no one there to judge them.

The next morning she awoke to the chirping of an alarm and the warmth of a body curled around her own. Shifting slightly she smiled to see him still there, floppy hair a mess and brow furrowed slightly as the alarm broke through the last remnants of sleep. “You’re still here.” She murmured, fingers tracing his jaw. “You didn’t think I would be?” He murmured back, eyes still closed as he tried to bury his face against her shoulder. “I’m not necessarily used to it, but I’m glad.” Slowly she rolled over fully, pressing the front of her body against his and feeling him pressing back against her. “Mmmh, think we can get away with being late?” His eyes cracked open and he smiled, pressing his lips against hers softly. “If you’re as good as you were last night we won’t be.” Grinning wickedly she rolled him over onto his back, her hips straddling his. “Dr Wilson, you know all the right things to say.” “James. Call me James.”

#halo.writes #reader insert #f!reader #house md #james wilson #james wilson x reader

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 months ago

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Do you think that some wizards are naturally born with significantly greater magical power than others?

For example, the Dumbledore family seemed to be like this: Albus himself was a great wizard, and both his sister and nephew were able to withstand an Obscurial inside them for as long as possible and not die at a young age because of it.

Lily and Tom Riddle were able to control their magic at an early age, which I believe might have been due to their lack of understanding about what was happening to them. However, they used their abilities for different purposes; unlike Tom, who used his magic to harm others, Lily used hers solely for fun.

Although each wizard developed their magic differently, Dumbledore was naturally talented and actively sought knowledge. However, the tragedy involving his sister led him to reevaluate his ambitions of ruling alongside Grindelwald. He lived for over a century, continuously honing his skills. In contrast, Voldemort lived only half as long as Dumbledore, devoting his entire life to the pursuit of domination over others.

Unlike the two men, Lily had a very short life and didn’t have the opportunity to reach their level of knowledge. From what we know of her, she seemed more skilled in specific areas of magic rather than mastering all fields. Another key difference is that both men sought power, while nothing of the sort was mentioned about Lily. She was described as vivacious and sociable, focusing more on the human aspects of life—such as family, love, and friendship—though she was certainly not stupid.

Another point to consider is Lily's sacrificial protection. While magic typically requires intent, it doesn’t always need a wand as its conduit; wandless magic is indeed possible. Lily’s childhood ability to harness her magic without a wand may have unconsciously intensified her desire to protect Harry.

Many have speculated whether others have faced a situation similar to Lily's on that fateful night, where they were presented with a choice they ultimately refused, sacrificing themselves to protect their loved ones. While such instances may have occurred, Lily's magic was inherently more powerful than that of others, which played a crucial role in ensuring Harry's survival.

Hi 👋

And yes, I do. I think some wizards are more innately powerful than others and are more skilled in certain aspects of magic.

It is stated multiple times in the books some wizards are more talented in different areas of magic/are more naturally inclined to these areas of magic:

“Pettigrew . . . that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?” said Madam Rosmerta. “Hero-worshipped Black and Potter,” said Professor McGonagall. “Never quite in their league, talent-wise.

(PoA, 207)

“Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future,” Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. “It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy,”

(PoA, 103)

And some wands also are more inclined to one field of magic over another:

Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration.

(PS, 61)

You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.

(PS, 61)

And if we're talking power levels, if we look at the Golden Trio, we can see Harry clearly had the edge in terms of raw magical power, bending the very way spells are meant to be cast:

She aimed a curse over her shoulder. The tank rose into the air and tipped. Harry was deluged in the foul-smelling potion within. The brains slipped and slid over him and began spinning their long, colored tentacles, but he shouted, “Wingardium Leviosa!” and they flew into the air away from him. Slipping and sliding he ran on toward the door.

(OotP, 809)

And that Harry's magic is more intuitive than basically every other wizard we meet:

Dust swirled around Harry like mist, catching the blue gaslight, as Mrs. Black continued to scream. “Mudbloods, filth, stains of dishonor, taint of shame on the house of my fathers—“ “SHUT UP!” Harry bellowed, directing his wand at her, and with a bang and a burst of red sparks, the curtains swung shut again, silencing her

(DH, 171)

(I have more evidence for this here)

That being said, magical power is affected by other factors. Years of study and experience like Dumbledore has would make everyone a better wizard. Dumbledore himself is powerful, but he puts a lot of effort into studying and advancing his skills in magic, something Harry doesn't do, but can still get similar results. Magic is referred to as a skill that you can train, even if the talent isn't there:

“Yes, but it took a great deal of skilled Legilimency to coax it out of him,” said Dumbledore

(HBP, 367)

“You cannot pass an O.W.L.,” said Professor McGonagall grimly, “without serious application, practice, and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an O.W.L. in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work.”

(OotP, 257)

Or how Harry is told to practice Occlumancy, or how Snape has them practice silent casting in 6th year. Like with most skills, practice makes perfect.

So even a mediocre wizard in terms of natural talent could do some complex magic with practice, as seen with Crabbe, actually:

“Fiendfyre — cursed fire — it’s one of the substances that destroy Horcruxes, but I would never, ever have dared use it, it’s so dangerous — how did Crabbe know how to — ?” “Must’ve learned from the Carrows,” said Harry grimly.

(DH, 537)

Fiendfyre is no easy spell to cast and control. He shows he can't quite control it, but he can cast the powerful curse even if he isn't very magically powerful or talented because he's been taught and he practiced.

Similarly, mental state can effect one's magic. Neville was thought to be a squib when he was younger:

but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me — he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned — but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced — all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy.

(PS, 91)

(Also, fuck, Neville's childhood makes me so sad)

But he isn't magically weak in any way. I wouldn't say he's incredibly powerful, but he's also not weak:

He and the D.A. were resisting her under her very nose, doing the very thing that she and the Ministry most feared, and whenever he was supposed to be reading Wilbert Slinkhard’s book during her lessons he dwelled instead on satisfying memories of their most recent meetings, remembering how Neville had successfully disarmed Hermione, how Colin Creevey had mastered the Impediment Jinx after three meetings’ hard effort

(OotP, 397)

His self-doubt and being under stress affected his magic negatively. Neville is another example of a wizard whose magic gets better with practice, both due to his boosted confidence, and the fact that practice does help.

Even Harry, who is one of the more magically powerful characters we see is affected by his own perception of what he can and can't do, regardless of whether it's magically possible as I mentioned above. When he thinks he can do something, like fix his own wand with the Elder wand, he can do it, even though Ollivanders thinks it's impossible to accomplish (I talk about this a bit more here)

So, long story short, yes, I think there is an innate talent/power factor to magic. But, like many skills, it can be honed with practice and improve with your mental state.

Magic is kind of like drawing. Some people are naturally talented and it comes naturally to them easily. Some need to work much harder just to get the same results. Some practice for years in professional environments and get really good at it. Some rando on the internet taught themselves, but their pieces wouldn't look out of place in a museum. Some people don't have the talent but work their ass off to get really good at drawing, and some don't have the talent and are fine with just drawing stick figures forever. Some would rather draw better but feel incapable due to the amount of effort it'll need, so they stick to stick figures even if they aren't happy with it. And your mental state and inspiration matter, sometimes it's hard to draw when you feel like shit. And how these different people would think of drawing would be different depending on their natural inclination, some would just know where the light comes from and how the shadows would look like on the object because that's how it works, while others would need to find a reference to look at or have a completely different way to visualize it.

As we see characters like Dumbledore and Hermione have a very rigid by-the-book approach to magic. Both have talent but they hone their talent in study and bookish approach to magic. Harry, on the other hand, is very instinctive with magic. He doesn't really know why what he does works, he just knows it does because he has a lot of natural talent.

Tom Riddle and Severus Snape are examples of characters who are a bit of both. They are clearly naturally talented and can approach magic intuitively — Tom learned to control his magic before he understood what it is, and both of them invented spells quite easily compared to most wizards — all signs of natural, intuitive talent in spellwork. But they both also studied like mad to improve themselves even more. And their studies do pay off, they are two of the more powerful wizards in the books.

Young Lily, as you said, casts some very well-controlled accidental magic, much like Tom does. So, yeah, I'd say she is naturally talented and powerful and it likely had a hand in her being able to cast her protective magic over Harry by instinct in her death — like we see Harry cast magic in instinct. I think Lily had an approach to magic on an instinctual feeling level very similar to what Harry has. At least, in my headcanon. But, I think the magical protection is basically a lot of circumstances coming together on half-coincidence and half-Lily casting a spell like the "shut up" scene I brought up above where Harry accidentally casts "shut up" as a spell because of strong emotions — so I think the protections she left for Harry are similar in how the magic worked all on her force of will and intention. Nut raw talent definitely helped. Lily would've likely gotten more powerful with study and practice had she lived longer as shown by other characters.

TL;DR

Magic is a skill. Some people are born more talented, or with a better disposition for the skill, or aspect of the skill, but this isn't all there is to magic. Factors like study, practice, confidence, and your mental state in general do heavily affect your ability to do magic. Some need more or less practice to achieve the same results, but most magic is possible to everyone assuming they put in the work (bar special inherited gifts like Parseltongue, or being a Metamorphmagus)

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #hollowedtheory #asks #anonymous #hp magical theory #I honestly really like the 'art' metaphor #I mean #It's called the 'Dark Arts' for a reason

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seivsite · 1 year ago

Text

THE GOLDEN TRIO .ᐟ

includes: otoya eita x fem!reader x karasu tabito. everything is platonic, a few swear words, not so intended harry potter golden trio reference — wc: 523

At first, you thought of them as arrogant and stupid. Oh, how wrong could you be. After becoming their so-called “girl best friend,” you get to see a side of them they never really show to anyone; it’s a very exclusive side reserved only for you.

It’s quite funny how you became friends. It all started after the U-20 match when Otoya spotted you at the bowling alley and found you really pretty. He mustered up the courage to ask you out on a date, but little did he know that you weren’t easily impressed. You began teasing him by pointing out his flaws, like saying his hair looked like a turnip or joking about his lack of romantic success despite his popularity. Your playful banter continued until he pleaded on his knees for you to stop. Meanwhile, Karasu couldn’t contain his laughter, amused by the whole situation unfolding in the background.

After all that, Karasu introduced himself and Otoya, but you already knew who they were because they stood out in the U-20 match. Without missing a beat, they immediately asked which one of them was cooler, expecting a response that favoured one of them.

However, you took a moment to consider and then casually replied, “Itoshi Rin.” A smile played on your lips as you chuckled, watching their expressions deflate in defeat.

The dynamic between the three of you is undeniably unique and perhaps even questionable at times. You’d have to listen to all of Otoya’s flimsy attempts to woo girls, and there you were, telling him that those girls were assholes, and he shouldn’t date them because they would only ruin his life and dignity.

And then there’s Karasu, always judging all his friends from Blue Lock and sharing all sorts of stories with you. Like that one time Shidou tried to fight Rin but ended up getting electrocuted and tied up as a result. He thought, “Damn, that could never be me, man. I don’t understand that guy. He even got a hard-on during the U-20 match! Can you believe it?”

As time went on, the bond between the three of you grew stronger, and you found yourself often playing the role of mediator in your conversations. Whenever Karasu said something that offended Otoya or expressed a different opinion, Otoya would turn to you, seeking your perspective. Your response would vary depending on your mood and the circumstances at hand.

You also now have two intimidating men barking at people who try to hit on you or make you uncomfortable. They wouldn’t hesitate to punch someone in the face if they ever looked at you the wrong way.

You wouldn’t hesitate to surprise them with random gifts that reminded you of each of them. For example, you might have bought Karasu a crow plush because it reminded you of him, or a ninja figure with the same hair colour as Otoya. They were always pleasantly surprised by these gestures and wondered how you could afford such things. Whenever they asked about the source of your funds, you would simply reply with a mischievous wink and say, “It’s a secret.”

NOTES. i pulled this out of my ass its kinda wonky but whatever i need more karasu otoya content

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3

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liquid-geodes · 2 years ago

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Okay, I think I’ve got a writing prompt: Someone gives a birthday present to Blind Springtrap. What is it and how would he react?

Oh I have an idea that makes reader look STUPID

Fazbear's Fright had, miraculously, been open and operating for a whole year as of today. Somehow the building had avoided going up in flames, although the wiring and AC units were still considered hazardous. They were lucky you showed up for your night shifts and kept an eye on things, otherwise the building might have actually gone up in smoke, leaving its star attraction without a home.

Springtrap had gained a lot of popularity throughout the year, his life-like movements and predator-like mannerisms gave the thrill seekers who visited exactly what they wanted, and then some. And of course you knew Springtrap enjoyed the hunt as well, barring incidents where guests would move objects into his path that he just couldn't account for and trip him up. You always took great care in resetting the room after those visits, guiding Springtrap around the room so he could become acquainted with the items once more. No matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to set the furniture back in the exact place he was used to, so guiding him through was a perfect middle ground, one that he appreciated wholeheartedly.

A year was a long time for an attraction of this type to remain open, especially since they only gained traction in the months leading up to Halloween, but Springtrap alone managed to keep people coming back for more and attracted new patrons who wanted to see what all the hype was for. You got to know Springtrap well in the off time you had together. You had learned that he wasn't at all what the company made him out to be.

He was alive.

It had startled you at first sure, but it quickly gave way to sympathy. You couldn't imagine living life like that, always in pain, forced to pretend like you're an object that belongs to a company every single day. It sucked knowing he lived like that.

Eventually he opened up more about the suit as well, even describing what it had looked like in its heyday. He had described it so vividly; a golden rabbit with a purple bow tie and vest speckled with stars, bright green eyes and whiskers to tie it all together. He didn't much resemble that anymore, and it was hard even picturing him in such a state at all.

He had supplied you with the name of the diner the suit came from: Fredbear's Family Diner. A quick search online pulled up old photos of the suit, as well as the men who created it, although he said he never got to meet the owners in his time as an employee. Springtrap spoke fondly of the place though, all things considered, and even expressed how much he missed working there. Apparently he had been quite busy all the time with such limited staff, but he didn't mind it. He even spoke highly of the suit he was currently entombed in, how rare occasions operating it were some of his favorite days.

You didn't need to know he was lying about any of that though. You didn't need to know his real name and title when Dave Miller would suffice. Maybe one day he would come clean, once he trusted you a bit more, but for now it was best if you believed he was just an unlucky security guard.

Regardless of who he was, one thing had been made clear: he adored Spring Bonnie regardless of his fate. So, with the one year anniversary of Sprintrap's arrival to the attraction, a day you lovingly referred to as his "birthday", you set out on an almost impossible task:

You were going to track down a piece of that happy past as a gift.

Fredbear's Family Diner had apparently offered plush toys for a while before closing its doors for good. Golden bears and bunnies were sought after by collectors and fans alike, but somehow you had managed to get your hands on one, after paying a hefty price of course. But it was worth it, for him. Maybe a little piece of his past would bring him joy in a place he couldn't leave.

As you approached his room in the attraction you felt nervous. What if this was the wrong call? What if it actually upset him? Youd come too far and spent too much money on this gift to back out now, so whatever emotional turmoil this little plush rabbit brought would just have to be dealt with later.

Timidly, you knocked twice on the doorframe before entering, though he had already been alerted to your presence once you entered the hall. He knew your footsteps well by now, and often looked forward to hearing them.

"Hey buddy, you know what today is?"

Springtrap turns to face the direction he hears your voice coming from, glassy, silver eyes remaining unfocused in the darkness he sees. He anticipates your answer, though tilts his head in question to humor you.

"It's your birthday!"

A soft groan follows as he turns away from your soft laughter.

"To think it's been a whole year already... that's something worth celebrating! I uh, actually got you something, a gift. I hope you like it, although it's totally okay if you dont!" You ramble nervously, catching the attention of the animatronic as he slowly approaches your voice, his hand reaching out so he doesn't accidentally trample you.

"You didn't have to..." he replies hoarsly, his hand finally meeting your own and grabbing it gently.

"I know I didn't HAVE to, I just.. wanted to. You deserve it."

He tilts his head again but doesn't question your reasoning, and you squeeze his hand gently before flipping it over to access his open palm. You gently set the plush in his hand, guiding his other hand to its head. You bite your lip nervously as he feels around the plush: ears, eyes, hard plastic nose, bowtie... no tail? That was... odd. He had been certain this was a Bonnie plush, and even ran his hands back up to its ears to confirm this.

Then he felt around the eyes once more, much more attentively this time. Then he felt it.

Eyelashes, stitched carefully along the sides of the upper eyelid of the rabbit.

His own eyes widened slightly in realization.

"I know it's not much, but I figured it would be nice to-" You paused, slapping your hand to your forehead, slightly startling the rabbit animatronic in front of you, "Duh! You probably dont even know what you're holding right now!" You realize, chastising yourself mentally for being so forgetful.

"I remembered you said you had worked at Fredbear's, and you liked when you got to play the part of Spring Bonnie when the owners were too busy to do it. It took me a long time to track this thing down, but it was worth it! You are now the proud owner of a genuine Spring Bonnie plush!" Your nerves had slightly subsided as you explained the gift. Clearly you had been excited to give it to him.

His mouth opened, then shut, then repeated a few times, as if trying to find the right words. This was an incredibly thoughtful gift. And William wasn't stupid, he knew these things must be worth a fortune considering how old it was by now. How could you even afford that? Could you still afford to take care of yourself? Would you be able to eat and pay your bills, or-

"So... what do you think?"

Right. He had to say something before you thought he hated it.

"Thank you..." he rasped, "I never thought I'd hold one of these again in my lifetime..."

All at once your anxiety is replaced with overwhelming joy, a big, stupid grin plastering itself on your face. He continued to feel around the plush for a while longer while you idly chatted about the attraction, and how you hoped it had many more years ahead of it. Eventually you get called away for minor maintenance work, leaving Sprintrap alone with his present. It quickly becomes his most prized possession, and he stashes it away somewhere safe as opening time quickly closes in.

#link's asks #dave posting #link's aus #blind springtrap au #fnaf 3 springtrap #fnaf 3 #five nights at freddy's 3 #five nights at freddy's #springtrap #springtrap x reader #william afton #fnaf william afton #william afton x reader #springtrap fluff #springtrap x reader fluff #william afton x reader fluff #fnaf dave miller

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imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese · 7 months ago

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hello sending this as an ask because its so so stupid but you are the Drifter expert so I must ask.

I was listening to 'This Too Shall Pass' by Danny Schmidt and I *think* it's pretty Drifter-coded. But unfortunately I'm still in the stage of new player where I have no idea if I'm reading canon right so I'm tossing it to you before I make another entry in the ever-growing pile of animatic wips.

I maintain I am not a Drifter expert, but I am most assuredly a Drifter enthusiast. I further maintain that any song can be Drifter-coded if you try hard enough.

But these points aside, I hunted down this song I didn't think I had ever heard before and listened... and then went… hold up…

And then I looked through all the other Drifteris playlists other people have shared with me.

Because one of the things I love about talking to other Drifteris enthusiasts or Drifter enthusiasts or Eris enthusiasts, especially writers, is they often, like me, also make playlists for one or both characters. And one of the delightful things we often do is share these playlists with each other.

So I am pleased to inform you that this is in fact a song I have heard before, despite not having remembered the artist or the title (I have an impressively bad memory). Not only do I agree it is quite Drifter-coded, you are not the first person to recommend it to me as such.

But even without this additional external validation, so much of this song and its lyrics have beautiful Drifter-esque qualities. It particularly reminds me of a ship I keep in my vault in-game, despite finding it quite ugly and one that I do not ever intend to use: https://www.ishtar-collective.net/items/drift-apart

Thank you for the delightful musical interlude. I am intrigued by the potential of your animatic WIPs and hope one day you will complete some and share them.

Song & Lyrics for anyone who is intrigued:

Things change fast But this too shall pass Better carve it on your forehead Or tattoo it on your ass 'Cause who can tell When the clock strikes twelve If today's become tomorrow Or if it's all just gone to hell My friend makes rings She swirls and sings She's a mystic in the sense That she's still mystified by things But scared to ask How can nothing seem to last 'Cause like a cancer in your body It all just goes too fast We think too big We think our self is one whole thing And we claim that this collection Has a name and is a being But deep inside When every cell divides Well, it sets upon the rule that states Self-interest is divine Cancer, too Lives by this golden rule That you must do unto the others As the others unto you All for the best 'Cause that's all the life accepts And so we kill it like a buffalo With awe and with respect Don't ask God Just holler at the sky 'Cause she'll tell it to you plainly In the clouds that whisper by And praise the shapes And then praise the way they change And they'll teach you not to pray to light Without you pray to rain So, I pray to hands And I pray to needs And I pray to blades of grass To find forgiveness in the weeds But as for health I just never did believe And so I never prayed myself Except to those that prayed for me The story goes Or the way that I was told There was a king that always felt too high And then he felt too low And so he called All the wise men to the hall And he begged them for a gift To end the rises and the falls And here's the thing They came back with a ring It was simple and was plainly Unbefitting of a king Engraved in black Well, it had no front or back But there were words around the band that said "Just know: this too shall pass"

#the drifter #destiny 2 #music #playlist #moonrat radio #writing #I love getting asks #ask me more things!

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herzzgeist · 1 year ago

Text

1) The Stranger

Pairing: Zoro x fem!reader | Word count: 2.8k | Warnings: Cussing

A/N: To think, a swordsman is able to READ? Can you believe it? Me neither.

Dividers by cafekitsune

The scent of earthy and aromatic coffee wafts over to you, as you take in the warm and cozy atmosphere of the book store. It's times like these you enjoy the most. At this hour, the shop is hardly occupied, giving you the opportunity to fully induldge yourself in a good book and dwelve in the silence. Only the cracks and puffs of the fireplace echo in the back of your head.

All that ends to your chagrin, for a rather bothersome man enters at front, questioning the poor store keeper in a raspy voice: "Scuse me mister, I'm searching for a sake shop, which should be around here. Think I missed a turn." - "I-It's right across the street, Sir." Is he being serious?

Taking a close look at the stranger, you notice his hair immediately, green as a freshly rained upon meadow and three golden earrings glittering on his left earlobe. They clank with every move he makes. A scar vertically grazes over his eye, causing it to stay shut, right on the same side of his metallic jewelry, confusion apparent on his rather stern face.

It leaves you in slight abashment, to think this man to be quite handsome. Shaking those ill thoughts away, you go back to your read and continue where you left off. The front door closes again and you see the green-hair pass by your window in the corner of your eye. He idles for a second and turns to his right, walking along the village's streets. Strange. The sake shop is only a few feet before him, did he change his mind perhaps?

Syllable after syllable, you sink into the deep wonders and fantasies of your book and chuckle inwardly, enjoying the onholding humor and playfulness the author decided to weave within the lines. Then, another sound of the bell, being hit by the door's edge, tears you out of focus. To your curiousity, it's the same man you analysed just a few minutes ago.

"Are you sure it's around here?" - "Sir, it's only ten steps infront this book store. Literally.", you overhear the dialogue and decide to join in, still with your book in hand. "Pardon me for interrupting, but what seems to be the problem here?", your gaze switches between the green-haired man and the vendor.

Surprise plasters over the intimidating one's serious visage before you, not seeming to have taken any notice of you so far to your delibaration. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you await the expected answer of these two gawking men. "This imbecile here seems to be blind, not just on one eye." - "Oi, I was asking for directions, not pathetic jokes." His hand holds onto one of his three katanas, which are fastened on his red waist band. This man means bad news.

Before it escalates any further, you grab the agitated stranger's hand and lead him outside the shop, muttering in an angry huff, that going into a banter with random people isn't just pointless, it's unheard of. Unbeknownst to you, a blush crept over his cheeks by your touch, following you in all cluelessness.

You turn on your heels to face him, only to see the man knitting his eyebrows in an adorably disgruntled way. Honestly, it tickles you. With a light chuckle you prompt: "What? I'm showing you the way to the sake shop. Besides, I don't want you to destroy my favorite book store after all!" Clicking his tongue in protest, he replies in a deep rumble: "I don't need your help. And so what if there's one stupid book shop less."

Annoyed, you puff your cheeks and knock the three hundred pages of literature in your hand against his head, of course not with all your might, but just enough to leave a bruise. Exclaiming shortly with a deft 'Ow', he immediately holds his already growing, you might call it 'horn', on his forehead. Do you know, who you just 'injured' (Y/n)? Safe to say, the green-hair is not amused. Snatching the book out of your tiny grabbers, he flips through the pages: "I hope you're reading something about aggression therapy, 'cus I suggest you'll need it, woman."

Being the biggest bully of your nightmares, he thrusts the leather bound papers into the air, before you can reach it in your slowly faltering jumps, holding out for your belonging: "Give it back!" - "Not unless you apologise for that uncecessary nerd assault."

Nerd assault? Oh, the audacity. Crossing your arms you avert your furious stare elsewhere and deny his delusional claim. "Suit yourself, let me see what roils inside your little reader's head." Following the bookmark's edge, which looks strangely close to a swords heft, his fingers flick the pages to it's destination aside. Will you look at that, it is in fact a carefully crafted miniature metal katana, dull yet beautifully adorned with sword knots and engravings. The love for detail draws the stranger in like a moth to the flame.

Thus, the one functioning eye hovers over the paragraphs. One catches his attention the most.

Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love — Hamlet. Act II, scene 5

"W-Will you finally give it back?! This is embarassing enough!", you whimper while facepalming in disbelief, hiding the inevitable redness. Perplexion spreads over the green-head's face, reading those words.

Oddly enough, they move him in a way he wasn't expecting they could. Never was he the type to sit down and engage himself with mere letters being written down on paper, for he simply cannot fathom their importance. Why bother with the burden of collecting these dust catchers of knowledge, only to store them back in a shelf?

Noticing his absentmindedness, it was then, where you take the opportunity to grab your book and hold it to your chest, your arms pressing it close to your heart: "Are you done gaffing into my 'little reader's head'? Look, there's the sake shop, like I promised!" With your index finger pointed towards the long awaited ale cave, the man jarrs his head to return back to reality. Out of trance, he questions you in earnesty: "What is this about?"

You don't quite follow. His gaze focuses on the leather cover in your hand. In disbelief you explain: "Th-This? This is Hamlet." An awkward silence grows over both of you. Clearly, the matter of reading literature of such high class, isn't of this stranger's stature.

"You know - Shakespeare?" - "Doesn't ring a bell.", your jaw drops to the ground in sheer astonishment, negatively that is. To your dismay, a supressed giggle leaves you in skepticism. Lowly you add: "The William Shakespeare?" Once more, a nonchalant shrug answers your dumbfounded query.

Still gobsmacked, you shake your head to concentrate on the more important: "Sake". Giving the sturdy man a shove with both hands on his back, as strong as you can muster to make that pure mass of muscle move, you prod: "Alright, here's the shop you've been searching for! I have other things to attend to so-"

The green-hair's expression grimaces in uncertainty, not fully comprehending what the rush is about. Stuttering, he cannot even form a full sentence, always restarting with a muffled groan: "O-Oi, no wait- I- can we -" - "Sorry, got to run. Farewell, jade head."

Jade head? That is something he never heard someone call him before. Are you colour blind by any chance? Though it's not quite the shade you promptly announced it to be, nevertheless, he can't seem to deny to take a liking to that premature nicknaming. Smacking his lips in irritation, just thinking about the shitty cook calling him Mosshead, already sticks a sour aftertaste on his mind.

"Welcome! How can I be of service to you, kind Sir?" - "Give me your best you can offer.", he enters the sake shop and gets greeted by a cheery and dapper looking old man, proposing his guest a tasting of all sorts of just recently delivered wines and other none sake bevarages. Although he isn't that much into grape juice with a hint of promille, he decides to tag along, not seeing why he should decline such a temptious invitation. It's alcohol. Might as well buy a barrel of sake in the end, there's a chance this store is worthy of his tastes.

The golden orb dipped into the darkening horizon, engulfing the land and sea in blackness. Crickets chime in to a musical interlude and the stars light up the picturesque scenery. Lanterns flicker, their flames dancing in the soft breeze. The stranger's onyx eye lingers at the window, seemingly lost in day dreams. After nine glasses of potent wine, even a man of his caliber ceases to manage the impact, leaving him tipsy and slightly wobbly on his feet.

That woman he met today left an imprint on him. You. How come he wants to see you again?

Back outside, with a barrel of sake in tow, he stops at the entrance, right after exciting the shop. The alcohol hits him stronger than he likes to admit. This is the place where he last saw you, he actually remembers. Suddenly, a sharp spark on the ground lets him faintly gasp, stinging his eye.

Slowly inching closer to the shimmering object on the stone street, he kneels down, almost immediately recognising the shape. It's your katana bookmark. Letting his rough digits glide along it's tiny blade, he takes a close look at this little piece of art. Perhaps he could return it back to you? A tempting opportunity to meet you once more, if he ever will that is.

His gaze shoots up to the book store infront of him. There is still a dim light shining through the window. Could it be?

Hesitating, he props himself onto the barrel, which now serves as faithful brace for his only ever more enhancing staggers. In consideration of either risking it to peek through the glass or find his way back to the sunny, he musters at the bookmark in his calloused hand in the end. There's no guarantee he will even succeed in reaching the book store's doorstep, due to his lack of 'way finding skills'.

Mayhaps he shouldn't have tasted all these different kinds of wine, now taking his head for a spin. The sheer amount of pressure thrumming at his skull is near to bursting this ruthless man's ear drums. A low belch emits from his chest, escaping his mouth through his slacked jaw. How utterly disgraceful. "Shit, that stuff's pret- ty strong.", a hiccup interrupts is spoken aloud thoughts, legs beginning to give in slowly but surely. If it weren't for the barrel's support, the green-haired one already might have hit the cold stone ground, face first.

A loud creak of a wooden door opening, coming from the book store across the street, startles the drunk stranger. After a quick glance, recognition curls his sloppy lips to a delighted smile, calling out in a huff: "Oi, nerdy girl!" - "Jade head."

Upon seeing the man, who you oh so eagerly tried to get rid of this afternoon, you roll your eyes in annoyance. He doesn't seem to have any urgent plans, explaining his carefree, more reckless, drinking. Light footsteps make a stop next to the alcohol induced fool. With a scoff, you let your lashes flutter at the drunk, asking if his tastes have been met. "Y-You could say that. That wi- ne hits - different. Didn't get to taste sake- though, so I just bought- a barrel.", rasping at you with occassional inward burps and hiccups, his onyx orb narrows at you, appearing suspisiously lecherous. You blame it on the wine, it's odor wafting in the air, the source wobbling before you as proof.

"Let me guess, do you need directions to an inn? To sleep off the inevitable hangover?", the questions roll off your tongue with a hint of mock, for he only answers with a smug grin: "Actual-ly, I'll need directions for- the harbour, Miss." The harbour? Furrowing your brows, you count two and two together. Is he - a pirate? That is rather bothersome, given the fact that he's drunk, not a very pleasant combination. A drunk pirate often leads to bad surprises, to which you're not keen on finding out, if he's that kind of heathen.

An amused snort reverbes from deep within him and he cocks his eyebrow at you: "I know what you're thinking. Y-Yes I'm a pirate and no I won't hu-rt you." Stretching out his hand to you, he shortly after starts an assertive introduction: "Roronoa Zoro. Swordsman and Pirate Hunter." Hesitation won't let you take hold of his oddly enough inviting looking palm, waiting for you to embrace yours.

Thus you decide to give in to your over attentive and cautious demeanor and shake this close to be trusted man's hand: "(Y/n). I- umm. I actually have no fancy title nor reputation to be proud of, so . ." - "Except nerd?" Propping your hands onto your hips you cackle sarcastically, accepting your fate with this tease of a swordsman.

Gaining back his strength and some additional confidence, he straightens himself from his trusty barrel and towers over you, flashing a wide grin. "Gotta say though, you're pretty, for a nerdy girl.", he says, surprisingly sober. It must be the wine talking. And is it just you, or does he inch closer to you, each time you blink your in fluster widely torn open eyes?

The stench of alcohol causes your nose to wrinkle in discomfort and you stutter like a little school girl, uncertain how to react to his insinuations. There are these ill thoughts again, of you deeming him to be quite the looker, a dreamboat if you're completely honest with yourself.

"W-We should get going! The harbour isn't exactly around the corn-" - "You're rushing way too hard. Why don't we just-", first he interrupted you with a low chuckle, leaning down to your level to drown in your deep e/c eyes, second however, a booming voice echoes in the distance, interfering him and his unknown to you intentions. It seems to be a man calling out for someone out there.

"Marimo! Where are you, you dumb wannabe swordsman?!", you hear the insults and curses coming your direction. To your notice, Zoro looses his composure, shoulders sinking and head drooping in defeat as he clicks his tongue audibly upset. Suddenly, a tall blonde man stands next to you, heart eyes flinging your way: "Why hello there! I am terribly sorry, if this bafoon made you feel uncomfortable! He's with me."

This seems to be one of the Pirate Hunter's crew mates. Confused you greet the dubious blonde. He flusters in a shy smile: "My lady, pardon this unexpected intrusion, but if you excuse us. This fool should be back with us at the ship. On the other side of this god damn isle." Earning a vexed groan from the one eyed man, he grits his teeth to the crew mate's obvious bickering.

Hinting the oblivious blonde, that you and him held a quite specific moment with 'subtle' signs such as clearing his throat and nudging his head towards you, his mate won't budge even once. Without question, he's not buying it. Grabbing the swordsman by his collar and heaving the barrel onto his shoulder, he pulls the staggering drunk after him: "Anyways, have a nice evening, lovely lady! Until we meet again!" - "For fuck sake shitty cook! Let go of me! Can't you take a hint you-" Cussed protests stopped by seeing you wave goodbye to the green-head being towed away.

Slightly confuddled you chuckle at the scene playing before you, recognising how the jade-head, you chose to call him, cannot hide a creeping blush on his usually stoic and confident expressioned face. Be that as it may, but did he come to realise how foward he was with you? The chemistry was extraordinarly palpable, that, you can't deny. Nevertheless, will you see him again?

This is the only picture Zoro is able to remember of this fateful day, meeting you for the first time. Or second if you will. The urge to cut down the curly browed idiot, who calls it his privilege to drag the 'greatest swordsman' away, grows ever so fleetingly, evident on the popping vein, appearing on the Pirate Hunter's temple.

The onyx coloured eye lingers to the distance. Something within him roils restlessly. Zoro can't put a finger on it, but he must find his way back to that book store. After all, he still carries your bookmark.

#one piece #one piece zoro #one piece roronoa zoro #zoro x fem!reader #zoro x female reader #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #x reader #sfw #fanfiction #fanfiction fluff #fanfic fluff #multi shot

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ang33333333l · 11 months ago

Text

The Diary of Petunia Glasschuh

Cw:bullying and slight bad parenting from Petunia's mom and also talks about self mutilation.

AGAIN THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH TO @saneriddlefan67 FOR BETA READING!!!

Taglist(again you can always ask to be tagged!!) @satans-gaurd-dog @leonakingscholarship @silvveringjadestar

Entry 1

Dear Diary,

Today starts a new chapter in my life. Night Raven College, though I have been to boarding schools before, they were all girls and only for ladies. Now, I share a room with a boy, he drank like a flea ridden dog while downing the water in the finger bowl. Who does that?!? Did his mother not raise him with a lick of common sense?! But on a more positive note, his hair color is quite nice along with how it looks. I wonder what his hair routine is, maybe double wash it every two days? Perhaps deep conditioning once a week? Actually now that I truly think about it, this whole night has been rather strange. Two girls, one was in a wedding gown for goodness sakes!! The other claimed she was from another world. I feel sorry for both of them, they seem like they got hit in the head via a large rock.

Entry 2

Dear Diary,

It seems like most of the students have little to no common sense. Especially that Ace Trappola. I hate him so much, always saying something stupid and it just gets on my nerves. Anyways, my classes are going well, Sebek is quite loud, but I can't control that. I also learned the name of the girl in the wedding gown, Fauna. Quite a nice name, though I am surprised she’s the same age as me. She is from a different world so perhaps marriage laws are different? She's always carrying that weasel?? Cat?? Dog?? Raccoon?? I don't know what that thing is, but apparently his name is Grim. Fauna is quite nice, though a complete idiot. She believes her fiancé will save her…I wish I could believe like that, but Mother says that love isn't real, all that men care about is status and how pretty a woman looks…Fauna is beautiful, and she has a natural charm. I wish my words would get through her, if he did want her, why hasn't he come yet?! I honestly believe he's in love with someone else. Well, on a different note, I finally learned the name of the pretty hair boy; Epel. He has a habit of carrying around onions. It's probably to season the food but…onions?!? Just onions?? No spices?? No herbs?? Does he perhaps need help with seasoning food? If so, I could graciously help him!!

Entry 3

Dear Diary,

I wish people in this school had common sense. That annoying boy won't shut up. Even in P.E. How hard is it to keep that mouth shut and not make everyone do more than necessary?!? Well, I bumped into someone, his name is Jack. He's a beastmen, and his tail is pretty impressive. Of course, the split ends on it are quite noticeable. But other than that it looks rather soft, maybe he needs help trimming it! I wonder what he does to take care of his tail, maybe double washes it? It does seem like it's carefully brushed too. But, on a side note, Vil is quite the…chief…All their food is so bland!!! No wonder Epel carries those onions!! I at first believed it was just flunks! No, they were not. If I have to sit through the BLANDEST meal imaginable for another time this week, I will be pulling out my hair!!!

Entry 4

Dear Diary,

I met Jack again, we were both attending to plants in the school’s garden. I never would've guessed he enjoyed gardening. He was very gentle with the pots, maybe he could give me some tips for my potted plants. I noticed how golden his eyes are, they’re quite beautiful. If they were gems they would make for the most perfect jewelry!

Entry 5

Dear Diary,

I have just been humiliated. I just got a bucket full of paint dumped onto me!!! I don't know what type of prank it was but I felt everyone’s eyes on me and just…laugh at me!!! Who does that?!? I think I also heard a few people talking to their friends saying “I wonder how that stuck up will react” and all I could do was just cry and run…now my uniform is ruined…I just hope it doesn't happen again. I hate this stupid club, why did I even pick Film Research?!?! I don't like this club. So what if I’m stuck up?!?! It's not like they're anything better!!! And I can't do anything about it because people told Vil it was an accident and what proof do I even have to disprove that claim?!

Entry 6

Dear Diary,

I hung out with Jack again, I don't know if the tough guy personality is an act or if he genuinely is a tough guy. It's like people describe him as that but when I’m with him, I can see him slip up and be caring. Well, that's usually followed by “Not like I care or anything…” He makes me laugh, I like that in a person. I also notice how many split ends he has on his tails, maybe once he gets comfortable with me I could ask him if I could trim up his tail. Jack also has such a nice smile. I should probably get his number, but when's the right time?? Would it be weird to ask so soon?

Entry 7

Dear Diary,

I hate this school. I hate everyone. I hate Fauna especially, how does basically everyone like her?!?! She's just a dumb naive girl!!!! She has nothing impressive about her!!! All she has is a pretty face!!! Why can't people like me like that?!? Why can’t people like me like that and be sincere about it?!? Why do I have to work hard for a little respect but all she has to do is show some basic kindness and she’ll have people fawning over her!!!!...But I guess like I said, she does have a natural charm to her…but…why can't I be like that? Why can't people love me like that? Why do I have to prove I’m worthy of love? Why do I have to prove that I’m worthy of being seen for more than my wealth and status?!?...Now that I truly think about it, Fauna just let people walk over her, it's pitiful. Fauna may be dumb but she doesn't deserve to be drained out of everything. I once talked to her and she just went off the rails about what she could do to help me?! I just wanted a simple conversation. Plus it doesn't help that the other girl, I believe her name is Yurika, only really uses more violent methods of getting her point across. I guess if I was in Fauna’s shoes I would try my hardest to be kind just to keep the peace.

Entry 8

Dear Diary,

I wonder how bad it would be if I just got dirty once, the last time Mother gave me an earful of how I shouldn't get dirty. I would also break a nail, and I would rather not have that. Despite what people think, my nails are fully real, no acrylic to make them look longer, just nail.

Entry 9

Dear Diary,

I realized how I had no friends before meeting Jack and I guess Fauna?... Everyone I interacted with was either because of Mother or school, no one actually wanted to be my friend. I just been alone, reading books about useless fairytale romance that would never happen to me. I may be known as “The Fairest flower in Fleur City” but I don't think it's true…I know I only won because of my pretty face and nothing else, it’s not like people truly got to know me. I wonder what would happen if my face got destroyed or damaged in some way, would people still treat me with that faux kindness or show their true colors? I know very well the other students in Pomefiore except a few would treat me worse. It's like everyone in this dorm is so obsessed with having a pretty face, I know very well what that leads to, my life isn't fun. Suitors only caring about my appearance then how I actually am, suitors only care about me enough so they think they have won me over without even realizing I always throw away their horrible letters and disgusting gifts.

Entry 10

Dear Diary,

I hate it. I hate everything. I hate my face. I hate Mother. I hate how I don't even know my own interests. I hate it, I hate this school. I hate Ace, Epel, Vil, Rook, Riddle, Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, BASICALLY EVERYONE!!!! Why is it so hard to be noticed for something other than my beauty?!?! What if I just take some hairspray and a lighter and burn off my face?!?! How would people treat me then?!?!? Huh?!?! I bet that half of these students wouldn't even look at me!!!!

Entry 11

Dear Diary,

After a week, I have calmed down. I also have started to realize how I feel around Jack. I feel warm around him, I feel safe like I could tell him anything, and my god when his hand brushes against my hand on accident it feels like my heart is beating faster than it should be!!

Entry 12

Dear Diary,

It feels weird, Mother always told me to be careful, especially with my sutors, to not fall in love due to how it will only hurt you, and to let her deal with my love life. She always said she would find the perfect man for me. But…Dairy, I think I already did, we have been hanging out and talking for a while now. It feels…nice not having Mother picking out boys for me, it feels amazing just…talking to him. He loves snowboarding, actually he really loves any winter sport. I wonder once it gets colder I could ask Mother if I could stay with Jack, I will tell her it’s for a school project!! Yes, a school project!! A perfect excuse! Well, more like a lie…But it's worth it!! Mother can never know about him, what if she hates him?!? Then I’ll be banned from seeing him…I can't let that happen! Under no circumstances will that happen!! But…how will I tell Jack this? How does one even confess without making a mess of themselves?

Entry 13

Dear Diary,

I wonder if I could garden. The potted plants only really provide a good thing to rant to when I can't write anything down, and to clean them up. I can't get dirty or else it would ruin my reputation. Is this why people see me as stuck up? It isn't my fault that their Mothers didn't teach them common sense!! But it doesn't matter, plus my beauty is the best quality of myself. You know when I think about it, what else is my best quality? Do I even have any? Mother always says that it is important to be educated, so I guess that's another good quality, but…what else is there to me? What do people think of me? Just a pretty face?...Is that what Jack thinks about me? That all I am is just a stuck up girl with a pretty face?.. No, he isn't like that…But Mother says how men can easily lie just to use you, but I’m really starting to doubt her. I mean, she only married my Father then he left her after she had me. I think she's just worried for me, but it has always been suffocating.

Entry 14

Dear Diary,

Writing letters is harder than books make it out to be. Books make it seem like once you put a pen to paper you're the next Shakespeare, but all my attempts make me seem like a desperate nutcase. OH GREAT SEVEN WHY MUST I INSIST ON WRITING JACK A LETTER?!?

#twisted wonderland #twst #internetangelpost #twst oc #jack howl x petunia glasschuh #jack howl x oc #jack howl twst #twst jack #jack howl twisted wonderland #jack howl #👠🐺#petuina glasschuh 👠

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sparatus · 1 year ago

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Sparatus? 🙂

🥺👉👈

Sexuality Headcanon: painfully bisexual. somebody please stop surrounding this old man with hot people his heart can't take it. also very much not xeno in the slightest

Gender Headcanon: turian gender stuff is complicated and doesn't fit into human binaries, so while he's generally understood to be and is fine with being perceived as a cis man because he's perfectly happy with the body he was born with, a closer approximation is masculine nonbinary, just... not the way humans understand nb to be

A ship I have with said character: i mean. [gestures vaguely to entire internet presence] do i even have to specify teia at this point.

aside from the obvious, sparatus/quentius is also a fave, i do so love boss and loyal dragon dynamics, and the two of them are that plus a flip side out of work where they're just best mean girl friends hanging out being catty old men together. plus for bad end it makes it so much juicier that not only was sparatus quentius's friend but also a sometimes-lover, bad end hurts but it's so so deliciously messy

plus also @thetrashbagswasteland put sparatus/desolas in my head and it bops around from time to time, just like, suave but chaotic military man with the personality of a mob boss "you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you stupid" vs prickly by-the-book law boy "i hate that you're actually as charming as you think you are you charismatic asshole" i think it would be fun okay someday ill write it teia and abrudas can also get in on it for fun or they can bang on the side it's fine

A BROTP I have with said character: sparatus & quentius, for reasons listed above. the more i dabble around the more sparkyteia and quentilea are becoming just a platonic polypile, oopsie, they're all good friends. also quite fond of sparatus & saren, because saren is very well-trusted and the council's golden boy and not every spectre is going to have shepard's experience with the council so it only makes sense for saren to have that sort of loyal right hand kinda dynamic with sparky. sparatus & valern is also fun for my usual political intrigue reasons but we don't have time to get into the complicated bullshit fueling the turian-salarian alliance rn

A NOTP I have with said character: sparatus/shepard, for reasons i should hope are obvious by now. guys idk how to explain this but sometimes characters just hate you without secretly wanting to fuck you. he has legitimate criticisms of shepard and ill die on this hill, there's no ust he isn't into you and mad about it he just doesn't like your fucking attitude. and you can't convince me your shepard somehow turns it around into genuine love, i don't fucking believe you, it's ooc some characters will simply never grow to truly Like you more than respecting your ability and that's fucking okay and normal

also sparatus/saren, because while i adjust saren's age in my work to bring him up to 70 in me1 (and closer to sparky, 76) the main works i know of for that ship have sparatus more than twice his age (in his 60s while saren was EIGHTEEN) and taking advantage of the age gap and saren's emotional turmoil after his brother's death to groom him into the perfect partner, which... oh my god no. and it was presented as romantic! as saren's first real love before nihlus!! i am calling the police!! and pretty much everyone ive seen who talks about that ship got it from that fic so. yeah that author is my parasocial enemy

A random headcanon: despite how closely they have to work together, and sparky being a prosecutor pre-politics (thus allegedly on the side of the cops), he and pallin have a rather... antagonistic relationship, mostly because of how sparky responds to pallin's complaints about spectres ("i'll let them know" which usually means nothing will be done and the spectres will continue treating civil misdemeanors and traffic violations like a game) but also because sparky himself has personal beef with like 7 different prominent cops, is from a "fuck the cops they're imperial shills we can police ourselves" background, and is so so good at being pedantic and annoying when he's feeling petty which is any time pallin isn't talking about an actual serious issue. he wants pallin to stop bothering him about traffic stops. pallin wants to fuck the smug look off his face. they're not allowed to have face-to-face meetings without quentius present because they WILL go straight to childish squabbling.

General Opinion over said character: he's my grandpa. he's Me. nobody in this fandom deserves him y'all need to remove the main character pov blinders and think about shit from his perspective and stop just assuming he's racist and stupid because he tells you no. the man has his position for a reason, and if you listen to what he's actually saying he's DEEPLY empathetic and concerned with how the public at large will be affected, he fucking cares about people it's canon it's canon it's CANON he literally goes behind his colleagues' backs to try to help you save palaven and stop the war right away that's not what a selfish heartless bureaucrat who only cares about his own small circle does i have ESSAYS dammit

.... oops i care about this old man So Much

send me a character

#press conference #ierian sparatus #thanks j!!!

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intcritus · 8 months ago

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"In Fontaine..." Childe started quietly, side by side with the traveler as they had come to indulge in a shared meal in one of Liyue's smaller restaurants. There's an uncertainty in his tone, chopsticks gathering various bits and pieces from his meal. "I gave you my vision; do you still have it ? If you do... keep it, if only for a little longer. I don't quite rely on it for the moment, and with the death of the hydro archon... I don't think the gods want to favor me with any of their power."

A weak laughter, hand supporting up under his chin as the harbinger found it in him to slouch for a minute. "I don't think they want to favor me at all, between you and me."

fontaine. so much happened there. a series of events that weren't as harrowing as sumeru. it seemed surreal, even now. but the reminder of the weight of his vision on her person reminds lumine and everything pertaining to childe, even more so after meeting the knave. there were a lot of people lumine refused to trust, even now. but childe was a constant that she hadn't even question him giving it to her, even if paimon had ribbed him for reasoning.

seeing him so uncertain had her brows furrowing, golden gaze dropping down to her plate, something uneasy churning in her stomach. fatui harbinger, or not, childe was human, he was a brother, a friend, someone who experienced a range of emotions. he allowed her to see that and she quietly appreciated that, simply because out of being fatui and teyvat's golden hero, they were just childe and lumine and right now, he looks like he needs a friend.

❝ ━ you trusted me with it, ❞ a subtle shrug, gaze dropping down at said vision within her palm, thumb stroking over it gently. ❝ ━ how could i not hold onto it ? ❞ what it must be like to doubt, not in just the power bestowed on them by the gods but in the power he held. lumine thought even without such power, he was powerful all on his own. reaching out, hand lays upon his arm, gently squeezing. ❝ ━ gods aren't the end all be all, childe. they are just as wrong as the rest of us, they make heinous mistakes, they do stupid things. ❞ she happens to think that if life were kind, the ginger could be considered a god among men with his confidence alone. gods needed believers, and between her and teucer, childe would've ascended long ago.

if she believed in the gods, or rather archons in this world, maybe lumine would have faith in the way they did ( or didn't ) do things. but so far, and excuse her language, it was a clusterfuck. shifting, her hand rose, fingers gently tilting his face toward her own, ❝ ━ i'm not giving up on you yet. there are countless battlfields you've yet to brave. even if your knees buckle now, whose to say, even the gods won't be there to see you rise, but i will.❞ / @avaere

#( VIATRIX IC. ) 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.#avaere #me sitting on this because words wouldn't word but lumine said i got this lmao #👑ˑ » ( answered. ) ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉᶰ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉˑ #i still need to make them a tag jfc

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thegospelofstjohn · 6 days ago

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"Eagle Eggs." From the Gospel of Saint John, 4: 18-24.

Jesus and a Samaritan Woman converse about who can serve drinks. Jesus agrees only the Husbandman the Emperor of Jerusalem can serve drinks, and He, Jesus reassures her is not him. But fear not, He says, the Jews have always planned to follow the Torah and bring Hhim down to the ground, and His presence will benefit all mankind. All men will be chosen by Him, the Vashat, the one who brings us together, and not just the Jews but all men:

Jesus said to her, “You are right when you say you have no husband. 18 The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true.”

19 “Sir,” the woman said, “I can see that you are a prophet. 20 Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem.”

21 “Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem.

22 You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews.

23 Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks.

24 God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.”

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 18: What you have said is quite true: You have no husband. The Number is 17301, יז‎לא‎, yazla, "one need not say..."

v. 19-20: All men must worship in Vilnius, in Jerusalem. The Number is 13361, א‎יגגס‎ ‎ ‎"eagle eggs."

We know Jesus was an aspect of the eagle god the vehicle of nearly every head of pantheon known. The Gemara here says we need a bunch of them if we are going to free the world from lies, tyrrany, oppression and the Four Horsemen that were unleashed when the US Government failed to prosecute Donald Trump for his crimes.

v. 21-22: I have said it before. God did not want a religion called Christianity to be born or fuck things up. What a stupid religion custom made for really stupid people. "Jesus died for our sins," they say. How absurd and ridiculous. Hardly an error in judgement worth killing billions for, is it?

As John said, without a question, salvation comes from Jews and not just in Vilnius, it is a natural law. The Number is 18891, יחחצ‎א, "the cross at yahcha" "the time you have been waiting for is nigh, hang on."

v. 23-24: A time is coming. God expects everyone to worship and understand the Holy Spirit alone. The others will be blotted out. The Number is 13026, אלךו‎, "I will go to Him."

Jesus does not want Jewish people to come unto Him, He wants all to come unto the Spirit. The brand of truth required by the Gospels cannot be had through a makeshift character in a story, instead it requires a firm handle on that persona represents. The above does not mean we cannot worship Jesus or make statues or stained glass windows of Him, He is way too cool to ignore. Jesus was a hot Jewish stud that descended from the same golden field all the Greeks materialized their great heroes we should revere Him the same as they. This one, a Jewish Perseus overthrew Rome, history's greatest tyrant, and then His successor, Abraham Lincoln overthrew the next.

Our target is Moscow which like Rome and America saw fit to conscipt its people for purposes that are not of God. So to Moscow the Gospels must go, and not for an overthrow, but peaceful, calm, orderly, and successful regime change, one that turns the peasants into bourgeoisie, provides them with work, plenty to eat, and all the happiness they can stomach so long as they shall live.

Then we rescue Africa, India and Pakistan anyplace at all that is in pain.

Sign the Sacramentum, but Legally obligate the Czar and Czaren to follow Cabinet Rules and this will prevent another Dick Cheney, Donald Trump, Asshola, or Valdimir Putin from causing the people grief ever again. "Other than this, His Imperial Highness cannot be prosecuted for any other crimes." This terminology is custmary in all constitutional monarchies. This is a reasonable approach to which no reasonable future sovereign would resist.

Regardless of how the Russian people decide, the world will never be the same.

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psalmsofpsychosis · 2 months ago

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@03140418 "If i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more" STOP STOP I'M ALREADY DEAD—

No but for real, the people who think wayleska is one sided might as well have 4 pair of eyes to me because Bruce's love language is offers of resources and protection. and he ONLY ever offers these to two people; Selina and Jeremiah, noone else. In season 1 he offers Selina to come live with him, have a safe home, warm food, protection from street thugs. In season 4 he offers Jeremiah Valeska —the brother of a known psychotic criminal that tried to kill him three fucking times— full funding in golden Wayne Enterprises cash, after having been in his mere vicinity for some wonderful, wonderful 3 hours. No background research, no resume read-ins, no inquiries on how much fund the project might even need, how large the scale of it is, what the financial and commercial commitments of the contract would be, if the Wayne Enterprises board could even be persuaded to fund the independent project of an insane criminal's insanely weird brother.

Like, i dont think people actually understand the level of absurdity and insanity and lovestruck stupidity of the context, what Bruce did for Miah on spot. He offered him millions of fund upfront, no questions asked whatsoever, and it wasn't just money. When Jeremiah dumps Bruce in Jerome's grave and goes to visit Wayne Enterprises, he has active access card to all of the building, each and every door, without a supervisor or accompanying company staff. His generators are not stored in a WE warehouse somewhere in whateverville outside Gotham; they're stored in THE central Wayne Enterprises warehouse directly located under the main WE building. Jeremiah more or less has CEO-level access to almost the entire building, and Bruce had a level of trust in this man that was quite frankly incomparable to anything he had ever offered anybody else before, and you better damn well believe that he fought the WE board members tooth and nail to secure all the means Miah needed to completely his project. The entire central Wayne Enterprises build was at the service of Jeremiah's project, their had their best scientists dedicated to the reproduction process. And people think that Bruce had no feelings for Miah, or was just trying to be "a good friend"? He is a good friend to Lucius, and Lucius didn't even get half the resources that Bruce allocated to every need Jeremiah might have. Jeremiah's generators were possible literally because Bruce poured everything he was and everything he had into Jeremiah’s life, and it's the very thing that eats him from the inside.

And so really, who cares if a 16 years old boy doesn't have the most intricately nuanced Freudian take on a script he's given to play before he's even legal to touch alcohol? Look at the narrative in front of you, Gotham TV is ripe to the point of burst with subtle subtext and symbolism, this show relies so much on metaphors and parallels— do people really think that it was a fun cutesy unintended accident that the scene where Jeremiah and Bruce meetup in the bunker when Jeremiah's going insane is shot in a way that has both character surrounded with wilted yellow roses, a symbol for friendship and affection and ALSO lost romantic love?? Do they think it's a fun whatever, the way the Ace Chemical fight almost exactly replicates Five and Selina's fight in which Selina falls to her death?? Like c'mon, for anyone who wasn't 14 and had even just the most basic grasp on literary symbolism David said nothing that we didn't know before, and he really didn't have to. The story is right there, everything in this song is written in a very specific key, and Nygmobblepot dont jump out of a happy meal box by the finale and declare "WE LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH!!!!" either, and people see them as canon just fine, so i have to wonder what exactly keeps them from seeing wayleska for what it is, which is an explicitly canon struggle between two obsessive, heartbroken men in love who will do anything at this point to get under each other's skin, because hatred is just love translated into familiar language.

David advocating for batjokes is so cathartic bc i remember ages ago some were suggesting that gotham!batjokes wasn't really a two-hander and only Cameron was playing up the tragic love arc (which is crazy because david has talked about Jeremiah loving bruce before the ace chem episode dropped and the fact that he literally plays Bruce as though he's on the verge of crying in every other scene he has with post-reveal Jeremiah but okay)

I need to hear these two guys idea dumping on each other while filming season 5

postgrad David and Cameron are dream Gotham blunt rotation for real because i geniunely think they're both incredibly delightful and unhinged and strange individuals and i also think that they both knew what they were doing.

Like, putting it into context— Cameron was just coming off 11 years of Shameless US, jesus christ. He was a gayism veteran at that point, he knew what the tone oh his plot was, of course he was going to act it that way and talk about it that way. But also, David was a 16 years old kid. Like, i dont know what indepth philosophical nuance people expected him to bring to the table, he was a fucking child at the time, teens take things lightly, it's what they do. But still it's an insane, insane thing to me that some people thought that gotham!batjokes is an unintended one sided narrative because, as you yourself said, David's acting is incredibly deliberate and distinct, Bruce's body language is a whole world of its own when it comes to Miah, and we're not even talking about the plot points. So i think that in the specific S5 time frame he played it more intuitively and less philosophically like Cameron did, and he didn't necessarily have a grown up's vocabulary around the narrative, i honestly didn't expect him to. But now that he's older and has had time away from the clutches of DC and also more years on him, he's came back full force. His analysis and understanding of Joker is on point, and he took extra care to really highlight where his priorities lie in a "Joker Essey" video by sticking the fucking "only Batman would go to this length to find the good in Joker, because he's his one true love" comment sticker right on top. There was no reason for him to highlight that comment, or draw any attention to it at all, if he wasn't aboard the batjokes train of hell. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and man does it heal me to the bone, i'm just so glad to know that everybody has been on the same page all along, it shows on screen and offscreen

#but anyway thank you for your tags. i'll be thinking about that fucking quote for the next 49 years #like. godddd #oh Gotham how you hurt me #Gotham TV #wayleska #wayleska meta

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piratesfromspace · 2 years ago

Text

Insecurities (Hangman x Reader)

Pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x Feminine Reader

Synopsis: You’re in Jake Seresin’s bed, but your insecurities are getting in the way.

I was inspired by Florence Pugh amazing post about her showing off her small chest and how she had to fight to accept her (perfect) body. It’s a topic that I know too well, and so I wrote what I would have loved to read 10 years ago. Hope it helps other girls struggling with body image.

Warning: self-loathing & body-image issue, mention of past harassment, smut, breast play, oral (f receiving) 1.4k words

Imagine 1 // Imagine 2 // Imagine 3 // MASTERLIST

You can’t believe you’re here. In Jake Seresin’s bed. He’s half naked, the sun lighting the hard planes of his perfect body from behind, enhancing the contrast between his tanned skin and his golden hair. He looks like Apollo himself. Jake. Freaking. Seresin.

It should feel like heaven - and in some aspects it does - except you’re also terribly anxious. Jake can feel your body tense when he removes your T-shirt, but he discards that as anticipation. But then you barely respond to his kiss when his hands reach for the clasp of your bra and he knows something is off.

It’s stupid really, you don’t know why you react like this, and you’re upset at yourself, because damn you’re in Hangman’s bed, and you know a good dozen of girls who would kill to be in your place. It’s not even the first time you fuck. The other night, he had taken you behind the Hard Deck in the secrecy of the night. It was different, you were both all riled up, too much in a hurry to remove your clothes. He just had bunched up your dress and tucked aside your panties to sink into you. You were slightly buzzed thanks to a couple of beers, ecstatic at the idea of finally catching the pilot in your net after weeks at dancing around each other in a will they won’t they game. It had been great, you enjoyed the hard fuck, he had even been considerate - more so than you expected, his hand behind your head so you wouldn’t bash your skull on the wooden planks of the wall with each of his powerful thrusts.

But right now, in his bedroom, in the broad daylight, you’re suddenly anxious. You love your body, but there is this one part of your anatomy that you have a complicated relationship with: your breasts. They are way smaller than what is usually considered attractive for your frame. To put it simply, as the boys from your high school would tease, you’re “flat as a pancake”. Actually the teasing did not stop with the end of high school, and you’ve heard grown up men mock you so during parties at university and later on whisper it behind your back during coffee breaks at work. From the cute sales assistant explaining the lingerie store did not carry your size to your own mom making nasty comments on your appearance, you had grown to understand it was a problem. The one thing you had a hard time to reconcile with. You even had envisioned breast implants - and you would probably have if it wasn’t so expensive and if you weren't so scared of hospitals. So you relied on wearing push-up bras on a daily basis, some so full of padding that it felt like wearing a fake breast plate, a literal prosthesis, to soothe your insecurities and cut short the teasing remarks.

It was seamless under your clothing, but the moment a guy would have to unclasp your bra, the trick would be revealed. It was quite the predicament you were in, because you were convinced you needed those to attract partners - and at the same time, you knew you would panic the moment someone would make a move to remove your top. You settled for quickies with the clothes on and one-night stands with the lights off to make up for what you felt you were lacking. It was ridiculous - and at the same time, you had been taught from childhood that “real” women had voluptuous curves, that a flat chest meant your body was “incomplete”, child-like, distorted, almost monstrous. Those were extremely harsh words, you knew that. The years of nagging and the overpowering imagery of those thin women with ample breasts had already done the damage - despite your best effort to love yourself unconditionally.

Jake stops in his tracks, he parts from you to study your face, his hand cupping your cheek. “You ok sweetheart?” Shame creeps up your face, you’re mortified at the idea of telling him the truth.

“Did I do something wrong darling?” he inquiries. Tears swell in your throat. Your lips quiver for a second before you can pull yourself together.

“Hey hey, what’s going up princess?” he asks more softly - and you scoff because when will this man run out of pet names? He searches for your eyes, but you can’t find the strength to sustain his gaze. You take a deep breath.

“It’s just… I’m sorry… I, um, I don’t like showing my boobs.”

“Oh.” he sounds cautious and a little bit lost. “Do you have any medical conditions I should be aware of? Like, do you have a third nipple or something? Cause I don’t mind, that might be hot actually” he tries, a stupid grin forming on his face.

“What? You little freak, no!” you huffs, and you swat his thigh for good measure. He fakes a groan of pain in a comedic way, and it gives you the nudge you needed to spill it all.

“They are… well they are… small, I-I mean they are basically, um, flat” you finally admit, closing your eyes, brows furrowed like you expect him to ew in disgust.

“Are you kidding?” Jake asks, not unkindly. You open one eye to prudently look at him, then the other when all you can see is something akin to interest on his face.

“First of all, I’m sure they’re perfect. Second of all, I’m a little bit hurt because darling, what kind of man do you think I am? I’m not five. I know boobs come in all sorts of shapes and sizes - I’ve seen quite a lot, trust me,” he punctuates his sentence with a full grin and you restrain yourself from rolling your eyes, ”and I love all of them.” he adds with a tone so serious, it’s almost comical.

He tips your chin up to encourage you to look at him. He needs you to see there is no lie in what he says. “I’m sure I’ll love yours, if you want to show me” he goes on, the gentle drawl in his words a balm for your nerves. You worry your lips between your teeth, twist your hands. You would not have bet Jake, from all people, to be so understanding, yet he’s being so patient, you can’t refuse him.

You let your bra fall on the floor with a sigh, cheeks burning with anxious anticipation. You feel more bare than ever. Hangman’s gaze flickers from your face to your chest. The old instinct to cover yourself up is here, and you have to fight it, your fingers curling in fists at your side.

Jake leans down toward you, his lips brushing the shell of your ears “told ya, they’re perfect” he whispers, voice low and amused. He kisses you again, his huge hands hold your waist in a firm grip like he’s afraid you’ll run and hide, but all you do is melt against him. He licks at your lips, your neck, he nips at your collarbone before going even lower, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses until he closes his lips around one of your nipples.

A long moan leaves you, and he seems as surprised and pleased as you.

“Sensitive I see” you feel him chuckle against your chest. He pushes you gently on your back until you’re laid down on the sheets, and your hands fly reflexively in his hair. The short blond strands are soft as velvet as you grab on them. He lets go of the tiny bud to focus on the other one, and he swipes his tongue on it until it grows hard, eliciting more moans. It’s really the first time you let a lover spend so much time pleasuring you like this - and you’re glad you listened to him because the new sensations are overwhelming in the best way.

You’re getting lost in those feelings until his fingers grazing through your folds send a shockwave through your body.

“You’re already so wet darling…” he comments, voice thick with lust. “Let me show you what more I can do with my tongue” Jake grins and he lowers himself between your legs. His hands come cupping your breasts just as he starts licking a wide stripe along the seam of your cunt.

You arch against his mouth with a whine, and he knows he definitely has won you over. You’ll never hide again.

#top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #glen powell imagine #top gun imagine #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun drabble

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theladybarnes · 2 years ago

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SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO? : CHAPTER SEVEN

“If anyone asks where I am, I've left the country!”

▸ summary: the plan seemed to have failed, is there still hope for one more fight? ▸ characters: nancy wheeler, jonathan byers, the party, and the parents ▸ word count: 4,370 ▸ warnings: angst, semi fluff ▸ series masterlist

Turns out that while you were busy dealing with the nonsense from Steve, the police went ahead and took Jonathan’s car. Making your really bad day turn worse when you had to race across town to the police station.

It took about fifteen minutes before you were slowly coming up, barely catching your breath when you noticed a man place down the box of weapons onto a desk. The look of worry and anger written clearly across Nancy and Jonathan. Beside the boy was a very tired looking Joyce Byers as she instantly looked into the box.

“What is this?” She asked, brows knitted in confusion.

“Why don’t you ask your son? We found it in his car.”

Jonathan glared up at the taller man. “Why are you going through my car?”

“Is that really the question you should be asking right now?”

Dashing towards the group you held out your hand. “Lawyer!” you gasped, using one of the nearby desk chairs to hold your tired body up. The group all looked at you stunned. “Don’t answer.. without a lawyer!” Joyce decided to put you out of your misery and push you to sit down and catch your breath.

“Who the hell is this?” grunted the man. Callahan and Powell start sputtering out a reply before you hold up your hand to introduce yourself. You give off your name causing the older man to look down at you curiously.

“Henderson.” he recalled, looking at you with narrowed eyes. “I remember your file. Seems a bit strange for someone like you to be caught up in a mess again.”

“Seems I attract the crazy. But either way, my friend here is innocent.”

Callahan leaned forward, arms crossed as he sneered at you. “None of you little punks are innocent. Don’t think you’re getting out of the clear from where we booked your friend at.” He glanced at the man in the middle. “Chief, this girl was there in the middle of a fight with a few other kids and now we find this in Byers’ car. Seems suspicious given her-”

The Chief frowned over at Callahan, only needing the look to be the thing that shut him up. “What do you have to say about all this, kid?”

Crossing your arms now, you glared over at the three officers. “I say since I’ve made the stupid decision of going to one party, the Hawkins police department has been a real pain in the ass.” The bite in your words caused both men to tense up as you leaned forward towards them.

“First Officer Clueless over there brought up some of the stuff that was expunged from my permanent record during what was supposed to be only a questioning over the missing persons case made for Barbara Holland. Making me extremely uncomfortable considering I had been in town for only about two days. Then, while in the midst of trying to break up a fight, I’m being harassed by the very same officer, causing me to not only fear for my own safety, but to consider filing a report against the whole department.”

Standing up, you size up to the Chief, thanking God that you had a talent for masking up your nerves as you poked a finger against the Chief’s chest. “Now, you’re harassing my friends and bringing out stuff that could have quite possibly been placed in his car as a ploy to further create a golden defamation case that my Father would truly love to handle. That’s what I have to say.”

A flicker of amusement went across the Chief’s face before he shook his head, either possibly seeing through your heavy bullshit or being amazed by it. You would obviously assume it’s the latter. “Your dad a lawyer, kid?”

“Yes.”

“You should look into following that.”

Getting back to his original mindset, he pointed his large finger over at the three of you. Glare returned on his face. “I wanna see you in my office.”

“You won’t believe me.” Jonathan pointed out.

He pressed on, leaning close as he spoke softly. “Why don’t you give me a try?”

Your expert lying is seemingly blown up in your face as the three of you slowly explained everything that went on. Mostly Jonathan and Nancy since their separate journeys had brought this whole thing together. When you were asked why you were suddenly involved, you had to lamely reply how catching them plan on capturing the faceless monster had got you thrown in.

Now it was minutes later and the two adults continued to share the photograph that Jonathan took. The three of you were sitting together in three chairs, you being uncomfortably in the middle as you fidgeted with the ring in your hand. Poor Joyce looked even more stressed out than you saw her when you first came in. Her hand rubbing gently at her temple as she sighed.

“You say blood draws this thing?” Chief Hopper asked.

“We don’t know.” Jonathan shared a glance with the two of you. Shaking your head, you look over to Nancy. Watching as she thought of what to say next.

“It’s just a theory.”

Having heard enough, Joyce slowly got up from her chair, nodding towards the door. “Let’s talk outside for a second.” she murmured softly. The two of you turned to watch a very queasy looking Jonathan follow after her.

The three of you awkwardly tried not to listen in on their conversation. Chief Hopper moved to look back at the black and white photo while Nancy leaned in close to you. “What happened back there?” she whispered softly, blue eyes wide with curiosity.

“What with Steve?” Shaking your head, you think about what good it would be to tell Nancy all that went down. While it would be nice to tell her how you finally gave the group of people a piece of your mind, the embarrassment of your own story and even crush being used against you weighed over all that. Making you wince a bit in the hurt that wanted to creep back in.

“He’s a piece of shit, told him so and came back to the car to try and find you guys.” you settled. It was half true, and half vague. Something you hoped the girl wouldn’t catch onto right away. “I’m done being friends with them. I’d rather sit alone at lunch than put up with them.”

Nodding her head, she nudged you a bit with her boot. “Well, it looks like my lunch table has cleared up too..if you want to stop by.”

“I’ll consider it.” you chuckled a bit, relieved that you didn’t need to go into further explanation. Joyce’s voice grew louder in the hall as she poured her worries out to Jonathan. The sound of pain lingered in her tone and you felt surprisingly guilty when she mentioned your name.

There’s a slightly muffled sound of crying until a higher pitched outburst captured everyone’s attention. Hopper shot off his desk and opened up the door to peer down the hall. “Stay here.” he sighed as he closed the door up behind him.

The other two joined you guys back in the office when Hopper returned. A look of worry spread over his face as he pointed over at you and Nancy. “We gotta head out and look for your families.”

You bolt up from your seat, suddenly worried by the fact that he’s suddenly bringing your family into this. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

“Call it a hunch, but I think they might know something that we don’t.”

The first stop at Hopper’s attempt at a roundup was to stop by the Wheeler residence, considering most of the time the kids hung out in her basement, you guys were hoping that would be a good place to check. Unfortunately, you guys weren’t the only ones to think to head there first.

The small group had been stuck in Hopper’s car as they watched a dozen group of men go in and out of the Wheeler residence. Boxes in hands filled with various items. You could only sit back and hope that this wasn’t happening over at your house. The thought of your poor Aunt being confused by sudden invasion of people made your chest ache.

Poor Nancy made an attempt to go reach her family, try and fix the mess that was unfolding before Hopper ushered her back in the car, reminding her that as far as they knew none of you guys were involved in whatever it is they were looking for. Or who for that matter.

“Look, we need to find them before they do. Do you guys have any idea where they might have gone?”

“No, I don’t!”

“I need you to think.”

Nancy, growing frustrated, started to fall against her seat. “I don’t know. We haven’t talked a lot. I mean, lately..”

Hopper pointed over at you next. “Your cousin was very talkative when I first met him. Any chance he slipped up in front of you recently?”

You shook your head, recalling any detail that Dustin had said to you the last you spoke. “Sorry, Chief. I’ve taken a master class when it comes to ignoring what he says to me. The only thing I can remember is that he and his friends were going to continue to search for Will. My best guess would be the woods. But really, they could be anywhere.” you sighed, hating to bring no helpful contribution.

“Is there any place that your parents don’t know about that they might go to?”

Unfortunately, you could only shake your head no to Joyce’s question. Nancy was in the same boat as you, stammering out another no when Jonathan finally spoke up since leaving the station. “I might.”

“What?”

“I don’t know where he is, but I think I know how to ask him.”

The group's next destination had been the Byers home. The outside of the house seemed dull and lifeless. It didn’t help that when you stepped inside, the place looked like it had gone through the craziest type of storm. Lights were hung all around, making the room look like it was covered in vines. Painted letters were on one the walls, spelling out the alphabet. It was insane. Even the furniture had been through hell. Having various cuts through the cushions.

“Shit.” you whispered, noticing Nancy’s similar reaction.

The group moved inside one of the bedrooms, catching as Jonathan flipped through the channels of the walkie before looking up at the rest of you. “Well, who wants to try first?” he asked, holding the walkie out.

Nancy reached out for it, sitting down beside Joyce as she pressed down on the button. “Mike, are you there? Mike?” Her eyes flickered between everyone before she tried again. “Mike, it’s me, Nancy…Mike are you there? Answer.”

The longer the silence went the more angsty the girl became, frowning a bit as she tried to call out for her brother again. “This is an emergency, Mike. Do you copy?..Mike! Do you copy?”

Hopper reached out for the device, having had enough of no reply as he took a turn. “Listen, kid, this is the chief. If you’re there, pick up..We know you’re in trouble and we know about the girl. We can protect you, we can help you, but you gotta pick up! Are you there, do you copy? OVER.”

Placing the device down, Hopper faced the group again, dejected by no reply. “Anybody got any other ideas?” The walkie crackled from the dresser, causing everyone to hold their breath.

“Yeah, we copy. It’s Mike. I’m here…we’re here.”

It only took fifteen minutes for Hopper to return back to the Byers’ house with the kids in tow. The four remaining had to wait the nerve wrecking couple of minutes having hoped nothing went wrong. As you and Nancy dashed out of the house, you couldn’t help but crack a smile at your cousin.

“You little shits are good at hiding.” you huffed, placing a gentle hand on top of Dustin’s head. You turn a bit to give a small pat onto Lucas’ shoulder, glad that he’s okay too. The young boy gives you an appreciative nod as Dustin swats your hand off his head.

“Trust me, our asses would have been dead if it wasn’t for her.”

Your gaze followed to where he pointed to find a familiar face. “You’re still with these guys?” you chuckled, moving over towards the girl. Her face was slightly covered in dirt and she looked more tired than the last time, but the small smile she pulled made your heart ease up a bit.

“Is that my dress?”

Before any answers are given, Hopper insists that the group moves back inside. It was time for everyone to be on the same page.

There wasn’t ever a time you felt completely incomprehensible to things. In fact, you were pretty well between the line of average and star student. But the more the kids went on explaining the upside down, the more you found yourself frowning in slight confusion.

Of course there was a science to it, and even with Mike’s simplistic drawing, it was still a bit of a hard follow. But you did your best to follow along.

“Okay, so the gate has a really strong electromagnetic field, and that can change the directions of a compass needle.”

“Change it enough to make you think it’s broken?” you asked, getting a confirming nod from the boys. If that were the case, the gate would need to be pretty deep in the ground in order to mess up the direction.

“Is this gate underground?” Hopper asked, seeming to think the same as you.

The young girl whom they told you to call Eleven or El for short, quietly answered back. “Yes.”

“Near a large water tank?”

“Yes.”

The answer seemed to throw off the boys, making your cousin stutter a bit as he spoke out again. “H-how do you know all that?” Hopper’s silence is a big giveaway and you’re wondering just how many crazy investigations had gone on just between this small group of people.

“He’s seen it.” Mike concluded.

“Is there any way that you could..that you could reach Will? That you could talk to him in this–”

“The Upside Down.” El finished.

Joyce nodded slowly, doing the utmost to keep her poor hopes in check. Your heart ached when El’s nod gave another glimmer of hope on the older woman’s face. The poor women had been through enough and you weren’t sure how much more disappointment she could handle at this point.

“And my friend Barbara?” Nancy added. Her eyes flickered towards the girl quickly, wide and optimistic. “Can you find her, too?”

With that question in the air, the kids all worked together to gather up the tools they needed, setting up a station at the Byers’ kitchen table while the rest of you watched in silence. You stood behind Dustin, next to the girl as she placed the walkie and picture of Barb down in front of her. The only noise in the room being the slight static noise from the walkie talkie. El, sat at the head of the table, across from Joyce as she closed her eyes.

In what could only be described as a power surge from within the table, the lights flickered off and on for a moment before her eyes opened up again. Disappointment visible on her face. “I’m sorry.” she whispered, making you want to reach out for her.

“W-what’s wrong? What happened?”

El’s voice broke, the build of tears in her eyes noticeable. “I can’t find them.” Having had enough of the sadness in her voice, you stepped forward, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.

“Let’s take a minute.” you said softly. Moving to get her out of the chair. “Maybe take a breather and wash off some of the pressure we’re throwing at you, heh?” The attempt to lighten up her mood is futile and she simply gave you a nod before brushing past the group towards the bathroom down the hall.

Everyone waited till the click of the door knob before questions began to spew out. Making you slightly frustrated at the commentary that followed.

“Whenever she uses her powers, she gets weak.”

“The more energy she uses, the more tired she gets.”

Leaning forward on the table, you can’t help but shake your head. “Just how much energy did she use today?”

“She flipped the van earlier today.”

“It was awesome.”

“But she’s drained.”

“Like a bad battery.”

Joyce sighed a bit. “Well,..How do we make her better?”

“We don’t.” Mike replied. “We just have to wait and try again.”

“Well, how long?” Nancy scoffed, frustrated by her own questions that needed answered. The whole thing left a bad taste in your mouth. The tensions were only getting higher and you worried the pressure might get to the kid.

“The bath.”

Everyone’s head turned around as El came back to the table. “I can find them. In the bath.” The group stayed quiet for a second before Dustin dashed over towards the phone, picking up the handle before dialing into the rotary.

You couldn’t help but be impressed by the way Dustin managed to guilt trip his Science teacher into providing information on how to build their own deprivation tank. The idea had come so quickly to Dustin you were proud of his eagerness to help the group.

“Do you still have that kiddie pool we bobbed for apples in?” Dustin asked Joyce.

“I think so. Yeah.”

“Good. Then we just need salt. Lots of it.”

“How much is ‘lots’?”

“1500 pounds.”

“Well, where are we gonna get that much salt?”

If it weren’t for the fact that this whole thing was now being led by the chief of Police, you would have been panicking to be breaking in the school right now. But now here you were in the middle of the gymnasium, spreading out the kiddie pool with Dustin and Lucas. Or more fighting with the kiddie pool to stay upright. It’s not until Lucas goes to tell Joyce the pool is ready that you get a moment alone with your cousin.

“If your mom knew what we were up to she’d kill us.” you chuckled, scratching the back of your neck.

“She’d go absolutely ballistic.” he snorted, looking up at you. “I’m glad we’re doing stuff again. It’s been a while.”

“I wouldn’t exactly count hunting down a monster at the same time as trying to find our friends as a good family bonding time.”

Again he snorted heavily. “That’s true. But still, it’s nice.” You couldn’t help but smile at his comment, leaning a bit to wrap an arm around his shoulder. For some reason a guilt started to build up inside. Dustin was too young to be involved in a mess like this. The kid was barely able to reach certain cabinets in the house.

“I say next time we bond over something normal..like a movie or even a nice puzzle.”

“Deal.” he said chuckled, wrapping an arm around you to give a hug back. “So you’ve been hanging out with Nancy. That’s pretty cool. You think you and her might end up being friends after this?”

“Something like that.”

“And what about Jonathan? You like him too.”

Your nose scrunched up a bit, there was a hint of amusement in his tone and you know he’s waiting for a punchline to use with whatever answer you get. But you simply shake your head. “We’re all looking out for each other. But I’m not opposed to making new friends.”

The sound of voices coming closer caused the conversation to stop. Nancy and Mike had found enough hoses to hopefully fill this pool up with water. And with Lucas returning with a thermometer you guys would be able to hopefully bring the water to a good buoyancy with the right amount of salt.

It was sort of interesting to watch as the kids tested out the water, using just a single egg to find the right balance. All that was left after that was the radio and El. Joyce had helped give her a pep talk it would seem because as she slowly stepped into the pool, you watched in awe as she did so with a small amount of confidence.

The group circled around her, looking up as the light began to fall out of the room. Once she was relaxed, all you guys could do was wait.

“Barbara?”

The group stiffened up, eyes looking over to Nancy briefly. The water wavered a bit, moving as El began to pant heavily. With the harder she breathed, the quicker the rest of the lights in the gym went out. Instinctively you reached out to grip onto Dustin’s arm. Frowning as you fought to reach out and make sure El was okay.

“What’s going on?” Nancy asked anxiously.

Mike replied just as clueless as the rest of you. “I don’t know.”

“Is Barb okay? Is she okay?!”

El remained unmoving, only letting out a small whimper of replies. “Gone..Gone..Gone!”

Joyce had to reach out and keep El calm, Hopper gripping onto the girl’s other hand to steady her. “Don’t be afraid. It’s okay, you’re safe.” she assured the girl over and over. By now you’re practically digging your fingers into Dustin’s arm as you control your emotions. With Nancy becoming crestfallen and El’s panicked whimpering, you felt completely hopeless.

“Castle Byers.”

Jonathan straightened up from beside Nancy, meeting his mother’s gaze at the familiar name.

“Will?”

At the name of the boy, Joyce couldn’t help but gasp a bit. Leaning even more into the pool now. “You tell him..tell him I’m coming. Mom is coming.”

“..your mom..she’s coming for you.” whispered El. The silence was heavy in the room and you felt your heartbeat in your ears from how fast it was going. Suddenly the walkie came back to life as a voice crackled on the end. “Hurry.”

From the look on everyone’s faces, you could only assume that the voice belonged to Will. “Okay. Listen, you tell him t-to stay where he is. We’re coming. We’re coming, okay? We’re coming, honey.”

El called out to Will again, sounding scared as she started to come out of the trance-like state she was in while going to the Upside Down. Bursting up from the pool, she gasped out loud, clinging into Joyce’s arms as the older women consoled her.

The sight of the young girl crying in fear has you nearly tearing up. The room is almost silent and you’re the first one to break the silence as you get up from beside the pool to grab the towel that Lucas had brought back with him. “Let’s warm her up.”

The adults pulled Jonathan into a huddle, whispering back and forth about Castle Byers. You were currently standing by the kids, sort of keeping an eye on them since Nancy had needed a moment alone and Jonathan was trying to join the brigade.

It isn’t till the gym doors burst back open that you see Jonathan return alone. His head cocked over towards where Nancy was, silently telling you to follow along. Sighing, you get the feeling that whatever your part was in this, wasn’t over. “I’m gonna need you guys to do me a favor.” you sighed, hands placed on your hips.

“What’s wrong?” Dustin asked quietly.

“I’m gonna go check on Nancy. I need you guys to stick together. Keep your heads low until Joyce and the Chief come back.”

“Where are you guys going?” Mike frowned, having been quietly glued to El’s side this whole time.

“I’m just going out to the hall is all.” The pale kid get you a skeptical look which you choose to ignore right now. “..But you never know. Just stay in here, okay?”

To your surprise, they all give out a chorused answer, making you smile. Turning on your heel, you go in the direction that Jonathan did. The two of them are on the floor against the wall. Heads down as they sat quietly.

It’s not until you’re joined at Nancy’s other side she nodded her head. Having come to a conclusion. “We have to go back to the police station.”

Jonathan casts you a worried look, mirroring your own expression. “What?” you both said at the same time.

“Your mom and Hopper are just walking in there like bait. That thing is still in there. And we can’t just sit here and let it get them, too. We can’t.”

“You still wanna try it out?” Jonathan sighed.

“I wanna finish what we started. I want to kill it.”

You get up from the floor, pacing back and forth in front of them. “This.” you started. “This is completely insane.” The two stayed on the ground, looking up at you worried. “We can’t..we saw what that thing could do. We now have confirmation on what that thing could do and you guys still want to go after it?”

“Come on, Henderson. I know you’re not as connected to the people in this but we can’t just-”

“Jonathan! I am still in the first week of moving into this goddamn town! I’ve known you two for two days less than that and now I’m suddenly going to join in on this final monster hunt? This isn’t me! This isn’t something that I would do!”

You couldn’t help but continue pacing until you suddenly stopped. Being hit with the realization that for the first time in a while, you’re being put in a position that is completely out of your comfort zone. And if you ventured on to do this hunt with Nancy and Jonathan then you wouldn’t be able to ever live a normal life again.

But just as you were about to answer the two, the sounds of the kids' light chattering is enough to make you hang your head and sigh defeatedly.

“Let’s go get this bastard.”

A/N: I can’t believe we’re coming up to the ending of season one! I’m so happy with the feedback I’ve had from this series and honestly can’t wait to start season two!

TAGGING REQUESTS: @m-rae23, @ally-holmes, @namesaretomainstream , @lilygreennn, @phantomxoxo, @liberhoe, @thexplosivegirl

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #sisosig

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