#i just finished girl woman other and boy do i dislike the treatment of the one nonbinary character

[upside-down-uni]

i onow its good if a book makes me mad, that means when i write about it ill have something to say. but i really do dislike the slow cooker of anger it puts me in where i just stew and stew until i can put words in order... this time its even more infuriating cause on a fundamental level i wont be able to write about it since my paper is about the translation and not the content! yelling screaming biting into wood etc

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,163

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​

CHAPTER 36:  SAVE ME

“I want to breathe, I hate this night. I want to wake up, I hate this dream.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

When she saw Min Yoongi being wheeled into the hospital’s emergency room, Raelyn pulled herself away from her assigned task almost immediately. Her heart hammered heavily against her chest and her forehead broke out into a cold sweat. She couldn’t hear the people calling her name and she blindly began digging through her pockets for her cell phone.

Did any of the others know what was happening?

Because she wasn’t his assigned nurse, there was no way for her to be directly involved in his treatment. Half an hour later, she was handed a coffee by one of her co-workers as they attempted to quell her concerns. They didn’t know what her connection with the patient was, but Raelyn knew not to open her mouth. The less they knew, the better. Everyone was better off that way.

Raelyn wanted to call Hoseok on instinct. She stopped herself, swallowing the heavy lump in her throat. Instead, she called Taehyung. He did his best to get her nerves to settle, telling her that it would take an act of some deity to pull Min Yoongi into his grave. He was just that stubborn. This got her to laugh a little and she sighed, feeling a little better than she had a few minutes earlier. Unfortunately, Taehyung was in Osan and wouldn’t be back in Seoul until later that afternoon. However, he did promise that he’d get one of the guys over to the hospital when Yoongi was cleared for discharge.

Her friend and fellow nurse, Seyeong, approached her just as she hung up with Taehyung. “Raelyn-ssi,” she called softly as Raelyn slipped her phone into her pocket, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, though she didn’t feel it, “how is he doing?”

“It was fatigue mixed with an anxiety attack.” Raelyn’s brows furrowed as Seyeong continued. “He experienced some shock, but he’s stabilized and resting.”

“That’s good.”

It was the only thing that Raelyn could say without falling apart herself. She nodded her head at the appropriate moments when Seyeong explained his condition, but the woman wasn’t really listening. There were too many other things filling her head. Mostly questions that she knew she wouldn’t be getting the answers to anytime soon.

Why the hell does this keep happening?

Once she was left alone, Raelyn unconsciously bit her thumbnail as her eyes narrowed. This was crazy. Anyone would think this was crazy. Who would go out of their way to bring someone back into the fold when it was obvious that they were competition? Wasn’t it normal to want to wipe out any obstacles that would potentially stand in a person’s way, no matter what avenue it was in reference to?

While a more twisted and jaded side of Raelyn could understand the thrill of wanting to taunt and torment an opponent, this seemed just shy of overkill. Yoongi was in the hospital because something shook him to the point of falling out. That or he was stressed and doing a terrible job of burying it down inside of himself. She hadn’t wanted to bother him with twenty questions, allowing him time to relax and to put whatever disturbed him out of his mind if even for a moment.

She toyed with the idea of calling Eden, but after the altercation she had with Yoongi at the hospital last time, she decided against it. The two of them would just wind up arguing about why he was in the hospital in the first place. Both of them would stroke out before either of them was able to get a word in edgewise.

Sighing, Raelyn angrily began scratching at the back of her head. No. This wasn’t going to work. She had to get the answers straight from Yoongi himself. Taehyung was sweet, but he always tried to cover things up as best he could. Mostly because he knew how much their old life stressed Raelyn out. They were supposed to be finished with that life and things continued to seemingly spiral out of control.

Making her way toward Yoongi’s room, she looked over his chart to see what medication they were giving him. It was a mild sedative, enough to get him to relax and maybe help him sleep. Who knew how long he’d been doing things without sleeping at this rate? Once she was able to ascertain that it was the proper dosage, she quietly slipped inside.

It took her a minute for her sight to adjust to the low light of the room provided by a small lamp. The ECG monitor beeped steadily, his heart rate normal and showing that he was, indeed, resting. Raelyn closed the door quietly behind her, the latch catching with a soft click. There was a humidifier by his bedside and his attendants seemed to have adjusted his bed so that he was sitting up as he slept.

She sighed again. Okay, maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

As someone in the medical field, the last thing she wanted to do was pull someone out of the comfort of sleep.

Raelyn turned slowly, intent on leaving the room, when she heard movement behind her. Her hand froze, hovering just above the doorknob.

“Raelyn-ah,” he heard Yoongi grunt. She turned around to see him sitting up full, the blankets shifting around in his lap as he did so.

She turned back around to face him. “Did I wake you?”

“Who can sleep when you exist so loudly?”

Raelyn frowned, unsure of what to make of that statement. Yoongi’s wistful smirk, however, showed that he was merely teasing. She crossed the room, plopping down into a nearby chair as he pressed a hand to his forehead. She noticed the look of disapproval on his face at the IV attached to his arm. When Yoongi attempted to remove it, Raelyn smacked his wrist on reflex.

“Don’t even think about pulling that out until you’ve been discharged,” she snapped, giving him a warning glare which he huffed at.

The two of them sat in silence – both probably processing the moment shared between them. It wasn’t often that Raelyn spent time with Yoongi alone. When Hoseok and she were still together, she interacted with all the other boys – lower and upper tiered alike. But rarely was she allotted alone time with any member as an individual. In fact, she felt she’d gotten to know them better when she was no longer the boss’s girl. The title came with its privileges, sure, but that also meant she was placed on a glass pedestal that she felt would shatter at any given moment.

Truth be told, she always felt Yoongi disliked her; for reasons completely all his own. On the flip side, she never really tried to bridge the gap between them either. Yoongi kept to himself, busy moving in and out of the thick of things alongside Jungkook. He never once hinted that he knew any of Raelyn’s friends, let alone that he was even dating Eden back then. Then again, she’d kept her own connection to the Golden Jackals a secret herself.

Now that everything was out in the open, Raelyn wondered where the time had gone.

“Yoongi-ah,” she murmured while looking at him. He raised a brow, silencing urging her to continue. “What happened?”

For a long while, all Yoongi did was stare at her; as if he was mentally cracking the cogs in his head to determine how to best answer the question. He blinked a few times, brushing his hair out of his eyes before folding his arms across his chest.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself over,” he answered simply, causing the muscle near Raelyn’s jaw to pulse angrily.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, Min Yoongi?” Raelyn’s voice went up an octave as she rose from her chair. He followed her with his eyes. “You are now the third person connected to me in some way to wind up in the fuckin’ hospital! Why should I not be concerned about this?”

Yoongi frowned. “Because there isn’t a single thing you can do about it.” The directness of the statement was like a punch to her gut, causing her to take a step back. His expression was icy and so was his tone. “Telling you what happened won’t change anything, so why bother?”

Raelyn felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach and she fell into the chair, semi-defeated. Why was he the second person to seemingly knock the wind out of her sails? What was so damn heavy that they felt the need to try and chase her off like none of this mattered? Raelyn clenched her jaw, furious at being dismissed in such a way.

“Listen up,” she said, her ire bubbling near the surface, “there is only so much that you guys can do to keep us in the dark. We’re going to find out eventually.”

He scoffed as he cut his eyes at her. “You find out and then what? Huh?” Raelyn blinked, unsure of what he was getting at. “You’re either going to get caught up in this nonsense until it settles, or you’ll turn tail and run. Those are pretty much your only options.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but found she couldn’t find the right words to throw back at him. Didn’t she have a rebuttal for this? She normally did. In this instance, however, Yoongi seemed to knock the fight right out of her.

“So, I guess the only real question you should be asking yourself now,” he broached, causing her to meet his gaze, “is how long do you plan on sticking around this time?”

Even though Yoongi was a few feet away from her, when he leaned forward, Raelyn instinctively leaned back in her chair.

“Because I can tell you right now that things aren’t going to be pretty. Not for a while.”

Raelyn’s vision began to swim momentarily. It was like she was hearing Jimin’s words all over again. They held a different tone, but the implication was still there. Each of them were telling her to make a choice. Even Taehyung had asked her to believe in her, to have faith that she wouldn’t be left alone. She wanted to believe him. There wasn’t a reason for her not to. They’d proven time and again that they were steadfast and willing to walk the hard road together – side by side.

So why was she so afraid to walk with them?

“I don’t know what’s going to happen from today on,” he said, cutting through her thoughts, “and I don’t want to think about it. I tried to keep Eden as far away from this nonsense as possible and she still managed to stumble her way into this shit.”

Relieved that the pressure was off her, even for a moment, allowed Raelyn the chance to regain her voice. “That is her choice, Yoongi-ah. You tried to take it from her once already. She’s a grown ass woman and can make her own decisions.”

He rolled his eyes, averting his gaze to stare at his phone on the nightstand by the bed. It vibrated relentlessly as Jungkook’s name flashed across the screen. Neither of them made a move to answer it.

“Yeah, well,” he finally said after the phone stopped buzzing, “she’s made that clear enough. I don’t need you to remind me of that.”

Raelyn narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t let your own regrets get in the way of other people’s progress.”

There was a flash of anger that danced over Yoongi’s gaze as his eye-line met hers. She didn’t waver, despite how scary he appeared at that moment.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not stupid and I’m not blind,” she said, pushing her glasses up along the bridge of her nose. Raelyn’s arms folded across her chest slowly. “You may have messed things up with her, but that doesn’t mean Jungkook will.”

“Raelyn…” Yoongi growled out her name in warning but she didn’t heed it.

“Their relationship has nothing to do with you.”

“Jungkook is my brother!” he bellowed, causing her shoulders to tense up slightly.

She took a breath. “Stop using him as an excuse.”

Raelyn knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but this was something she’d been wanting to say to Yoongi for a while. Ever since she found out that he was the Yoongi who’d broken her best friend’s heart.

“Eden is choosing to stay by Jungkook’s side. After everything that’s happened, she’s making the choice for herself. Something you never took the chance on.”

Rising from the chair, she could feel Yoongi’s eyes following her. “And you’re right about one thing, Yoongi-ah.” Taking a moment to look over his monitors, she let her gaze linger on his for a moment longer before making her way toward the door. “It’s time I made a choice of my own.”

[hobiwonder]

A vase of flowers | (m)

Genre: Smut, enemies to lovers.

Pairing: Wealthy art student!taehyung x art student!reader

Warnings: slight angst. language. foreplay, descriptions of unprotected sex, dirty talk. it’s pretty tame otherwise.

Words: 10k

Summary: Art prodigy Taehyung comes to your art store out of desperation   when he doesn’t have enough paint to finish his latest piece. That wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t hate his elitist ass. 

a/n: this was just to get back in to writing. Its not edited and probably doesn't flow the best. But it did get me writing so here u go!! feedback is much appreciated :)

(he’s a work of art himself!!1!!!1!)

The hustle and bustle of students – females in particular – in the hall outside the lecture theatre was more infuriating than you had anticipated. What else did you expect though? The one day you don’t come late to the lecture is the day Kim Taehyung had decided to show up to class so the hallways outside the room being cramped like a chicken farm was inevitable. Even Minnie sitting beside you was craning her neck forward to catch a glimpse of the artistic prodigy – never mind his out of the ordinary good looks – before the class started. He was very much a superstar at your university but you will never understand why people were so obsessed with people who were not actually that great if you just looked past the good looks and the talent. Talent didn’t automatically make someone a good person and everyone’s obsession with the teal haired artist really pissed you off.

“Ugh, when will these bimbos shut up. He’s not a god!” Your words are muffled against your sweater clad forearm as you try and rest your head before class started. Having the closing shift the night before was one of the few things you despised when you had a class this early in the next morning. But you still showed up to every one of them. Unlike someone else.

“Well it doesn’t help that he looks like one.” Minnie is just shrugging while she continues to lean over her chair to watch the girls twirl their hair, throw back their heads in laughter whenever Kim Taehyung says something ‘funny’, nudging his shoulder with their own to show their frankness when really – none of these girls probably knew him past his bedroom since he rarely showed up to class. But news of him being a womanizer was common although slightly more hushed than that of the football team captain and co-caption Jeon Jungkook and Min Yoongi. Those boys were a headache for another day.

Kim Taehyung wasn’t anything special. In fact – he rarely showed up to class, was given special privileges you were sure of it because he was always in the top three students despite showing his face once in a blue moon, had every professor whipped for his pert ass because of how well connected he was in the industry as well as his family being one of the founding fathers of your current university.

Sure, someone like that is bound to be more popular than your regular high achiever or talented artist but the fact that he had everyone absolutely nuts about him was infuriating. On top of th-

“Are you done with your inner monologue? You’re blocking my way.” The unmistakably deep voice belongs to none other than the boy who you wanted to punch so very much. But that wouldn’t be wise given that most of the class was watching. His annoyingly attractive smirk was always there. Like it was just how his mouth was shaped but you knew that he always made the look a bit more condescending when speaking to you. Not that he would let anyone else know though. Bastard knew how to keep his persona up and you just wanted to smack him even more!

“Oh sorry. Forgot your name was on that seat since you barely come to class. I’ll remember for the next time when you make your monthly appearance.” Minnie is nudging you with her elbow no doubt to shut you up and it’s not the first time this exact scenario had taken place. But you wanted to keep yourself in check since no doubt the rest of your comrades would give Minnie a hard time since they didn’t have the balls to annoy you because of your obvious dislike of Kim Taehyung.

“Missed me, did you?” Your little victory smile is slipping off your face when his smirk deepens and you have to physically grab your desk and grit your teeth from snapping at him again while you move your feet out of the way so his smug ass can get to his stupid seat. Thankfully his seat was towards the end of the row so you didn’t have to catch glimpses of his pretentious face.

“You wish trust fund baby.” Alas, he isn’t affected. Not even a bit as he winks your way while walking to ‘his’ seat.

“Leave the pet names for people who actually get to be with me.” That’s it. Youj will break his stupid obnoxious snobby face!

“Calm down y/n. Everyone is watching.” She holding on to your arm while your eyeballs glare at Taehyung’s direction without even blinking.

“All the more satisfying when I kiss him with my fist! Minnie let me go you knob.” While you’re trying to wrestle your arm free; your professor has walked in looking pleasantly surprised with the semi-full lecture theatre. His gaze almost instantly goes directly to Taehyung because even he knows that most of these new faces that show up once in a while as well are because of Taehyung. They nod at each other before he starts the class and your mouth is agape that no one even questions the favouritism in this class. A bunch of ass kissers!

“Are you seeing this? His daddy probably plays golf with the prof. Jung Soo!”

“So what, y/n? You’re forgetting the rest of them also have parents who play golf with Taehyung’s dad. Most of these rats are rich as fuck. Not everyone comes from humbler beginnings.” Minnie is smiling hopefully as she watches you pout but her response only makes you snort.

“Are you forgetting you’re one of these ‘rats’?”

“Don’t remind me.” She falls back in her seat while hiding her face at the mention of her filthy rich parents being business partners with Kim Taehyung’s. When you’d first found out how well off your best friend was it only made you more enraged. If she could be a decent human being and not get any special treatment – despite being extremely talented as well – then why stupid Kim Taehyung? Minnie had a banging body and a face to match not that it should matter but you were so sick of the double standards. Your best friend also deserved special treatment dammit!

“Why? You shouldn’t be ashamed of being rich, hot AND a decent human being. I would so be one of those girls drooling after that canvas demon if I was gay.”

“Bitch I’m almost convinced you aregay but the way you’re ready to drop your panties for Min Yoongi tells me otherwise.” You only try to muffle your laughter while smacking Minnie’s knee, mumbling a ‘shut up’ before you both opt to pay attention to what your professor is going on about. Not before you catch Taehyung watching you like he was about to grade your upcoming assessment. You just send him another glare and try to ignore his overtly attractive physical presence. How could someone just sittingseem attractive, you will never get it. God really favoured some people more than others huh?

“Thanks for coming. Have a nice day!” The chime of the register as it slid closed was a sound you were starting to hate. The smile on your face was tired and probably was becoming very obviously fake. But that was just a typical day at the arts and crafts store – the only one in the near vicinity of the university hence the more than average traffic even close to 7pm at night on a weekday. Since the store was employed with almost entirely all students, it was able to stay open longer than the regular hours to allow the students with day classes to work during the night shifts. You were an exception though. Being on the lower end of the income spectrum among your peers, you needed as much work as you could get. Doing a bachelors in fine arts helped too as you used the tools that the store sold, on a regular basis. It definitely came in handy when assisting first years and some mature aged students who needed extra help in finding the right type of brushes or paints needed for their canvases.

“You good? You can take off for the rest of the night you know?” You know that Sungwoon is trying to sound helpful but you knew his real intentions. Scoffing in his direction you just grab your blue water bottle to take a good swig and wake you up.

“So you can steal my shift and work instead? Not today satan.”

“You’re literally so dramatic.” He says while heaving the biggest breath out like he was any better. “Maybe I genuinely just want you to rest and not have your face turn in to one of those creepy smiling masks from that one movie.” He’s clicking his fingers s if that’ll help him recall the name of the film any faster. Lucky for him, you knew what he was talking about.

“The Purge?”

“That’s it! See, you knew exactly what I was referring to. You need sleep.” Sungwoon is nodding while looking at you like you stank or something. Ugh screw boys.

“If I did, you’re the first person I’ll get rid off.” You deadpan and you can almost pinpoint when he starts to realise you may not be joking. But you were of course. He was a little shit but all in good fun.

“Well,” he’s picking up his bag and making sure to clock out from the app the store used to make sure everyone was getting to work on time, “I’ll be going then. Have fun scaring off rest of the customers and drowning the revenue for today.”

His squealing laughter is the last thing you hear before he’s scuttling out when you try and smack him across his bicep. Sungwoon was probably one of the few boys you could stand and were actually close enough with for them to joke around like that with you because apart from Minnie, there weren’t many people who really liked talking to you. That much was clear when you’d moved near the campus from your town when you’d been accepted to the rather elite Art University.

Coming from a small town – you’d think you were more friendly but that wasn’t the case with you. You’d grown up with a strict father that made sure to discipline you if you ever messed up your tasks at his workshop. Ever since you could remember how to read and write, you had been helping him out with the business as he could not. His own father – your grandfather – had been even more strict on him according to your mother so there was no changing him. You had never really minded in doing the book-keeping for him or making sure the small town client paid on time after having their cars tended to. That’s until you had started your Junior year in high school and had the choice of choosing between subjects now that you were to apply for universities after. Or that’s what the plan was for most children. You had taken Art as a spare since it was the easiest class at the time and you really didn’t need any complicated subjects to study for because you were having to work at the workshop with your dad even more as you were getting older.

Being an only child also meant that all the expectations your parents had fell upon you to see them through. It also meant that the only time you interacted with your fellow classmates was during class. Not even after because as soon as school would finish – you’d have to rush to the workshop to help your dad sign out cars from the shop to the owners on time. He specifically made appointments towards the end of your school day just so you could be there and help him make sure the checks he was given by the more wealthier customers – only a few – were not for an amount less than he’d quoted them with. Believe it or not, it had happened and every time it did you had to stop yourself from smacking the bastards who had tried to take advantage of your father just because he couldn’t read. Ant to make the matter even more ridiculous, most of the people who tried to scam your father had been those who could actually afford his services. Not Joe who had a farm and sold eggs locally as his main source of living, not Jihoon’s father who was a delivery man and needed his vehicle to keep working and provide for him family and certainly not the old lady who had her truck serviced by your father so she could get to her appointments to the doctor, on time despite her only income being what her son sent from the city where he worked as a chef and had his own family to feed.

The world was filled with unkind people and most of them were those who could afford most things but still tried to take the less fortunate’s share too. Your father was a calm man but all his frustrations were usually taken out on you whenever you would rightfully insult those who tried to seek discounts despite knowing that your father wouldn’t be able to afford the tools he needed to do a fair job on the vehicles if he didn’t get paid the amount he had set on the pricelist which was dismal compared the mechanics you have seen in the city.

But of course, he wouldn’t say much to those low-lives because at least he was getting business. And that was better than nothing. When you’d finally let him know at the end of your senior year that you’d applied to an arts university rather than the business school he had hoped you would go to – things had not gone well, to say the least. Of course all his anger would be directed at you that day from the shop as well as finding out that his only child was not interested in business at all. You had done it as much as you could for the sake of helping out and honestly? Just not knowing what was out there for you to study and do with your life. But If there was anything that working with your father had taught you was that if you didn’t take a chance sooner than later – you’d end up having to rely on someone else for the rest of your life. Just like your father relied on you for so long because he just never got around to even finish school because of doing exactly what you had been – helping out your granddad.

The day you had left for university had been hard and was the second time you had cried. Your father hadn’t even looked at you but your mother had clutched on to you until you had to physically pull her away when your taxi had arrived. Even after making sure there was someone to help out your father at the shop, there was still apprehension present in your gut. It had all felt wrong somehow even as you had been unpacking your stuff in your flat the next night. Thankfully, all the hesitancy, all the fights and the sleepless nights had been worth it when you’d gone in to your first class the next day. You’d been excited to meet new people, make friends, make memories you didn’t even knew you had the option to make. But what do you know, getting accepted in to an elite university meant there were more of the same people you had fought off and defended your father from.

Meeting Minnie was almost a miracle. She had been the only one to come up to you being desperate to find a buddy to get lost around the campus with and not like the rest who had taken one look at your jeans and plaid shirt and moved on to find others with the same clothing or designer bags. People were so materialistic in the city it was almost unbelievable. In your town you had been able to find others who were more so on your social and economic status and feel comfortable. But in the city you were outnumbered. Maybe that’s why people like Kim Taehyung got on your nerves even more than usual. You’d noticed his elitist behaviour when invitations had been sent to attend the commencing party at his house in the first week you’d been attending the university and instantly you knew you would never be able to stand him or people like him. Only a certain number and certain looking people – girls to be exact – had been invited to the famous Kim estate. You’d only found out when Minnie had asked what you were going to wear to the party. The look on your face had probably given away your lie that you weren’t actually invited when you’d made up some excuse of not wanting to go. Minnie being the good sport and the only decent person you had known, had made some excuse about not ‘feeling it’ and stayed in that night and watched all of Harry Potter series with you. With you watching them for the first time.

“Bugger.” Your thoughts are interrupted when you almost trip over the bucket of sale items Sungwoon forgot to move. Taking a deep breath, you pick up the relatively heavy bucket that contained tubes of oil paint in colours such as black, white and red that were bought the most and move it to the stock room so it can be displayed again the next morning. Your shift was going to end in another 2 hours so now most of the work included moving display stock to the back room and print out labels for the discounts that were going up tomorrow morning. This is probably why you didn’t completely hate night shifts because other than a few customers – it mostly involved you working silently and most times even able to use headphones without having to worry about missing anyone at the till waiting for you.

“Hello? You guys still open?” You’d just finished putting away the tubes and the paint brushes when the front door had opened – as signalled by the bell atop it – meaning there was a customer.

“Coming!” Quickly getting down from the ladder where you’d been putting the paint in their designated boxes, you rush outside. “Hi, how can I- Oh. It’s just you.”

Taehyung is scoffing towards you when you roll your eyes seeing as it’s not a real customer. It was true. The last few time she’d come in – he’d browsed for all of 5 minutes before making a weird face and leaving. Probably going to buy his pretentious paints from his pretentious shop. It was as if he only came to the store to make fun of all the products most students living on campus – or not filthy rich like him – used.

“Isn’t that against some customer service code? To have this sort of attitude?” His bright hair has somehow made the place look a little less mundane, you hate to admit it. His very clear skin and the various rings he wore didn’t help either in making you feel less than. You hated how much he actually affected your mood.

“For actual customers? Probably yeah.” This time, it’s him who’s rolling his eyes while his hands comes up to have a feel of a synthetic brush that was hanging in front of him.

“What makes you think I’m not a customer?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“I actually am here to buy something this time.” His response only makes you smirk as you hum.

“So you do admit that you only come here to flaunt your wealth. That’s a good sign Taehyung.” But for some reason, the teasing that would usually make you feel better doesn’t feel as satisfying when Taehyung is just looking around like he’s in a pickle rather than through an insult back at you.

“Look, I need some paint and maybe a few natural hair brushes. I would go to-”

“Your overpriced and pretentious art store?”

“-my regular spot but I need to finish this painting tonight.” He completely ignores you when you cut in with a smirk and almost sounds like he is pleading. Wait. He was. The new found info perks you up more than you’d anticipated and it’s almost exciting knowing Kim Taehyung’s fate lies in yhour hands. Okay, maybe an exaggeration but still exviting. So you do what anyhone else in your position would – milk out the entire debacle.

“Well, well, well.” Leaning on your elbows on the counter, you can’t help but feel sort of like an evil villain finally with the perfect opportunity to strike. Except, you weren’t the villain really. You were the good guy!

“For fuck’s sake.” Taehyung mumbles lowly under his breath but you could hear him loud and clear. “How long are you going to make me wait?”

You wanted to be cruel, you really did. You wanted to tell him you had ran out of the supplies but you were too tired and honestly, he was probably going to buya  bunch of stuff and if you made a sale above 50,000 won in one transaction then you would make some sweet commission. So whatever.

“Luckily for you, I’m a decent human being so,” stepping out from behind the register, you just deadpan at him, “right this way.”

He seems surprised and so are you. At yourself. Because you’re not sure why you’re being this nice to him when he’s made fun of you on more than one occasion.

“I’m slightly scared you’re leading me somewhere quieter so you can murder me.” His voice is slightly meek and you’re thankful that he can’t see your face because you’re trying to hold in ugly laughter that Kim Taehyung is actually scared of you when alone despite acting like hot shit when surrounded by a herd of girls.

“A good, educated guess. But not today.”

“…. So there is a chance for that to happen another day?” Spinning around to face him abruptly – damn okay maybe you should major in acting because Taehyung flinches but tries to play it off by shrugging his broad shoulders.

“Maybe.” You’re slightly too close to him because you have to crane your neck up to meet his gaze. Just when his own slips down to your lips, you quickly gesture towards the aisle you’ve just stopped in front of. “Here you’ll find what you need. Brushes and paints.”

“Thanks.” You just shrug before turning around to go back to the cash register. That plan doesn’t go too well because a warm grip on your wrist stops you in your tracks and almost on instinct, you’re ripping out your hand from the grasp as soon as you feel it.

“Woah, sorry! I didn’t mean to-” You just cut him off to move past the subject before he even brings it up.

“What do you want now?” Taehyung pauses for a few seconds as if not ready to let your jumpy reaction go just yet but thankfully decides to drop it.

“Look, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t desperate and rally needed the sup-”

“Taehyung, I’m not interested in hearing how you would never set foot in a place where peasants like us – or normal people really – shop so just get to it.”

He however is just biting on the inside of his cheeks as if to burry a smile before it breaks through. “You’re not very patient are you?”

“I haven’t been put in many situations that really require it, so.” You just shrug in his direction but the flash that goes through his eyes that resembled molten dark chocolate sends an involuntary shiver down your spine and thankfully the air con is on and you could blame your odd reaction on to that if he noticed. Why was he looking at you like that?

“That’s too bad. Sometimes the rewards for waiting are quite fulfilling at the end.” And somehow, you’re not sure if he just means that in general or…

His heavy gaze travelling down the length of your body only makes you more eager to move on before you lose all the good comebacks you had at the tip of your tongue just because his looks were making you weak in the knees.

“Whatever.” You turn to leave once again and again, Taehyung reaches out to grab your wrist but pulls himself back before he can. Thankfully, you have already seen him this time so you just cross your hands under your chest, tapping your foot while you wait for him to spit it out.

“Just help me okay? I’m not familiar with these… brands.”

“That’s because none of them are Gucci.” He just rolls his eyes but follows you down the asile anyway.

“You do know that Gucci doesn’t make paint right? If they did it would be amazing though. Maybe I should write to them about this. Hm.” He’s started talking to himself but you start pointing out the different types you had available because you don’t have time to have causal chats with him like you two were friends. Despite his weird behaviour before.

“If you’re looking for oil paints, these ones are smoother and the colour payoff is better than others and if you want buildable colours then go for… this.” You’re about to say they are cheaper than the first brand you had pointed out but then realise that he most likely doesn’t care about the price. Though he doesn’t seem to be looking at you at the moment but only paying attention to the paints just like he paid attention the content in the few lectures you’d seen him at.

“Do they not say the ingredient at the back? That’s peculiar.”

“What’s peculiar is you using the word ‘peculiar’.” You mumble while still watching him inspect the different tubes as if he was going to drink them or something.

“May I get the list of ingredients for these ones here? And the lightfastness rating please.”

“It’s literally at the bottom of the tube.” His eyebrows furrow as he looks back at the tube and looks at the bottom again.

“Oh. Isn’t there like a booklet or something that comes with this so I can check?”

You just continue to stare at him.

“Taehyung, this is a campus arts store and our most expensive paint is 55,000 won. So no, we don’t have fancy brands that make ‘booklets’ for every paint. But if you must know,” You sigh, rolling your eyes at how high maintenance he was with his paints, “I can have a look at the delivery boxed for the ingredients. I know that all of these paints of this brand have a lightfastness rating of II at least.”

“Excellent! And yes that would be great, y/n. I just prefer my oils to be made from pure Linseed is all.” He has a bright smile on his face while he shrugs like that’s just the way it is. But of course, you want to punch him once more for making your job harder than it needs to. He was a college student. What did he need such high quality paints for? Ugh.

So you grit your teeth and walk back to the storage room and fish for the delivery boxes of the brand that Taehyung was interested in. “Stupid rich boy. Used to always getting what he wants.” The mumbling continues on your part while you try to locate the box as quickly as possible so he can go away and stop making your shift harder than it needs to be at almost 8:30 PM at night.

“Aha!” You have finally spotted the boxes that were stacked way at the bottom. Quickly reading through the large ingredient list, you confirm that the paints are unfortunately not made purely from Linseed oil.

“I have some bad news.” When you walk back out to where Taehyung is testing a few brushes, you can see his face drop because you’re sure he can guess what you’re about to say. “The binder used for these paints is a mixture of Linseed and walnut oil as well as a few others.” You shrug but Taehyung seems to be losing it.

“God fucking damnit. I’m screwed.” He’s started to pace around the aisle, looking like his life has just ended and his dog has died. Did he have a dog? You loved dogs.

“Why are you freaking out so badly?” He looks at you like you’re the one who’s acting weird.

“Because I have an auction in three weeks and it usually takes me that long to even finish a painting.” Of course he had an auction. It was common knowledge around campus that he sold his paintings for quite a sum at a few well known auctions. But you couldn’t remember another one happening anytime soon though.

“What auction? There isn’t one scheduled for at least 3 months.” Taehyung is hesitating when you question him. He looks like he would rather not mention it but in the end, sighs and tells you anyway.

“It’s more of an exhibition. Just for my paintings.”

“Oh wow.” Your eyes have widened at the mention of his solo exhibition. He was rich enough to afford to hold one so it shouldn’t be that surprising. But it still was a big deal even for a privileged student like him because you need to have enough credibility and a loyal customer base to attract enough people to an exhibition that is solely filled with your own artwork and not a collection of artists. “ I didn’t know you had your own exhibitions.”

He scratches the back of his head as he shrugs nonchalantly but you see the nerves showing through with how his hands shake slightly. “It’s the first one.”

“Oh.”

“Whatever I’ll just look somewhere else.”

“I use a medium of stand oil, linseed and turpentine, a little wax and add a small amount of cobalt drier to control drying time for my paintings.” You have blurted out your little trick before you could stop yourself. In your defence, he just looked so pitiful. You had to help. He also seems just as surprised at you suggestion and even more surprised when you walk around gathering the supplies you’ve just mentioned.

“Oh… thanks for the tip. I never really thought about that since I never really needed to…”

He silently follows you to the register where you place all the items and scan them so he can pay. Whatever. Maybe you helping him will bring some good karma and give your career a break too and your painting will finally be displayed at the Montero Art Gallery. It was a local gallery but a lot of successful artists you admire had started out from there and you were hoping that your work could be good enough one day to be displayed there too.

“How did you go through all your paints by the way? Should you have a ton of them because you’re supposedly always painting.”

“Supposedly?” Taehyung is smirking while his eyebrows are raised in mock disbelief at your suspicion. “Well, I used up most of them when I had sex on a canvas with Jihyo. Made for a good painting though. Maybe I’ll display that one too.” He’s grinning from ear to ear and you’ve just halted while he pays on the eftpos machine. Okay you definitely regret telling him your trick when he put himself in this position by being a horndog.

“You’re literally so gross.”

“Hey, abstract art is also a thing you know?” He looks serious enough that if he hadn’t said ‘abstract art’ you would think you had actually offended him. You obviously hadn’t when he just winks in your direction while he gathers his items and leaves.

“Asshole.”

It’s been a week since you first saw The Kim Taehyung pop by the little arts store that had previously been too beneath him to even consider buying his supplies there. Though ever since you’d told him about your little trick, he’d been bugging you non-stop on writing tips and you’re almost sure he’s doing it to… well, bug you. It’s as if he isn’t even aware that he’s an artistic prodigy because you’ve seen his paintings yourself and they were hyped up for a reason. Even a bitter person like you could admit that.

So when you get a special request by your boss one Friday evening, you’re surprised to say the least when you figure why you’re even asked to deliver supplies in the first place.

“Are you serious?” Your boss being the sweet old lady she is, is just pushing up her glasses as she nods vigorously at you.

“Of course dear! Must be some poor student who really is in need of help. He sounded quite desperate on the phone.” The old woman was way too nice for her own good. And while you appreciated her big heart, if she says yes to one person that the supplies can be delivered to his house then then word will get around and sooner than later, you’ll have a flood of students ordering their supplies over the phone and wanting them to be delivered. If that was going to be the case then you’ll have to quit since you can’t deliver because you don’t have a car. You relied on public transport damnit!

“Or he’s just lazy Ma.” Yes. Everyone called her ma upon her request. Short for Marion. Not that you minded because she was sweet as honey and really did remind you of your own mother. And she treated you like one too. Especially right now when she just scowls at you and asks you to stop being lazy yourself and deliver the package she’s prepared.

“Ugh fine.” You whine until the very end and she’s just wishing you a safe journey. Thankfully she’d leant you her car for today – it was her idea after all – so you wouldn’t need to spend an hour trying to find the place. It seemed to be quite close to the shop surprisingly. And unsurprisingly, the apartment is in a trendy but expensive neighbourhood. Most kids who went to your school probably lived in these buildings. The one you were supposed to go at though was on the top floor and you’re already angry that this buttcrack insisted on delivery and manipulated poor Marion into having his stuff delivered to his door rather than being at the front reception so the exchange could be faster.

When you reach the top floor, you pull out the receipt to hand it to him first thing as he opens the door and don’t have to spend more time than necessary in this place that you felt so out-of-place in. You’ve already rung the doorbell while you read the receipt and that’s mistake number one that night. It dawns on you who this person must be when you’re reading the names of the exact items Taehyung had bought from you last week. You could turn around and go really. Only if you hadn’t already rang the doorbell and he hadn’t opened it right as you’re setting the heavy bag down.

“Well hello there.” His deep voice is an anchor itself as you stop your movements right then and look up at his smirking face that looking down at you. Ugh. Like always.

“Hi.” Slowly, you straighten yourself up, the bag still near your feet as you step away, trying not to gawk at his perfectly toned skin that is showing way too much from between his unbuttoned shirt. “Here’s your stuff. Goodbye.”

“Oh good. You can set it inside in the kitchen.” You’re gritting your teeth in order to stop yourself from slapping his cheery voice right out of his throat with a punch. Okay maybe that’ll be too much. Maybe. You won’t know until you try though.

“Come on.” He’s gesturing inside his expensive apartment that shinier and cleaner than any place you’ve ever seen. He probably has it professionally cleaned.

“I’m not coming inside you weirdo.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not my type.” Somehow that makes you even more mad and you hate that it does. Fuck him honestly. You knew you weren’t his ‘type’. His type included skinny, rich and bad artists. Just so he could get off on a power-control dynamic you’re guessing.

You just pick up the heavy package without breaking eye contact and step inside, walking straight to the kitchen and placing the materials on the counter. The inside décor is surprising when you take in the various canvases strewn about in the living room on different easels. But what really takes your breath away is the familiar artwork that you’d looked at time and time again when you’d been lacking inspiration. When you’d been in a rut and everything had been too much and all you would want to do is quit. But looking at the work that evoked emotions from a place inside that even you hadn’t still made sense of it was the only thing that had kept you going many times throughout the years you’d been at university.

But how was Taehyung interested in such underrated art? You’d never heard him mention Vincent Van Gogh before. And yet most of his paintings covered the walls of his apartment.

“You like Van Gogh?” Taehyung has gone back to his pallet as he mixes the various shades of reds and oranges together.

“Who doesn’t?”

“Like, all of our school?”

“Nah. They pretend that better artists exist.” His answer surprises you. You’d never pegged him as someone who appreciated the more sombre period of art. His paintings usually were a lot more cheery and sometimes rather complicated.

You’re kind of lost in the long hallway covered with several paintings. The tall ceilings and the dim lighting only making you more excited to take in such beautiful art in silence with the only sound being the bristles of Taehyung’s brushes across the canvas.

“You like his work too I assume?”

“Mhm.” You’re too lost in the various paintings to really properly answer him. You’ve almost forgotten where you are until Taehyung speaks again. But this time, from somewhere far closer as you can smell the musky scent that always accompanied him.

“This one is my favourite.” His voice startles you a little when he appears just behind you, slightly to the side so you can look to the side and watch his long neck fall back when he looks up at the painting.

“I like it too.” Your voice is quieter than before. Like neither of you want to disturb the air surrounding you. It’s probably the first time you haven’t felt instantly annoyed by Taehyung’s presence. When you look besides you again, you don’t realise it’s the second mistake you’ve made that night. Because Taehyung is staring right back at you and this time he doesn’t stop. Your breath hitches in your throat when you catch his dimly lit face staring intensely at you. Or maybe it was the lighting that amplified every look. Every gesture. Whatever it was, in that moment, you’d never felt more attracted to Kim Taehyung.

“I lied.” His whisper floats across your skin and the light breeze that comes with the breath from his words has your eyes closing for just a few seconds longer when they blink.

“A-About what?” Taehyung has somehow moved even closer because you could feel the heat from his chest seeping through your own shirt. It also didn’t help that his shirt was fully unbuttoned and the smooth expanse of his chest was absolutely bare for your traitorous eyes to feast on.

He brings up a hand, slowly as if not to startle you like he had last week, and tucked the stray strand of hair behind your ear. “About you not being my type.”

The only thing your body seems to be able to do at the moment is turn your face back towards the painting, heart thudding in your chest as you feel his hands move all of the hair from your neck out of the way to the other side. Exposing the sensitive flesh to the cool air inside his apartment. “You’re exactly my type and better.”

This time the words are whispered s close to your ear that you have to physically clutch tightly on to yourself so you don’t flinch from his breath tickling the flesh of your neck. You’re biting your lip, trying not make any sudden movements or noise because honestly, you didn’t trust yourself to not jump his bones. How was he this sexy and annoying at the same time?

“I kn-know.” You’re hoping that teasing is evident in your voice but that plan has gone down the gutter as soon as Taehyung presses his luscious lips in to an open mouthed kiss against the side of your throat. So instead, your response comes out way too breathy and you can’t stop the moan escaping you in the end.

“You’re just always looking for trouble aren’t you, y/n?” How is his voice perfectly steady? He doesn’t even sound remotely affected as he brings his arms around you from behind, fully moving behind you as well while he continues to undo the strings of control you had tied tightly around your brain. Because seems like you’re only thinking with your vagina at the moment.

His hand have slipped beneath your shirt after playing with the hem for a few seconds and testing the waters. When you don’t push his hands away – you could barely breath at the moment – he slips them inside your thin shirt, tracing circles across your torso and up until his warm, large – so fucking huge – hands are taking handfuls of your breasts before he’s gently squeezing the mounds.

“Oh.” You feel like you’re going boneless by the second as your head lolls back and on to his shoulder and you’re just praying that your brain shuts up and lets you enjoy these sensations without the red alarm bells going off in your head that you hated him!

You hit mute on said alarms as soon as you feel his index finger and thumbs rolling your puffy nipples through the fabric of your bra into hardened pointy tips and you’ve finally lost the filter on your mouth. “F-Fuck. Taehyung, ungh.”

“Look at you. Thought you hated me, huh?”

“I still, mh f-fuck, d-do.” Being a slave to your stubborn ways, you’re retaliating with your words before you can even keep yourself in check. Taehyung doesn’t seem to be bothered though. He’s just chuckling at your pathetic attempts at trying to hold on to some autonomy even if your body is betraying the fuck out of you. The constant squeezing, rolling and pinching of your nipples has you almost mindless, you’re not sure you can survive much more than this.

“Sure. At least your body doesn’t lie though.” He’s squeezing the mounds firmly this time before he’s slipping one of his hands downwards again. You’re aching and wet and aroused beyond words but finally you’re up to the point where you can easily ignore the rational side of your brain and let your body take control.

Breathing loudly, you’re almost panting with every inch that Taehyung’s hand moves closer to your underwear. You’re so soaked that you can feel your panties sticking to the contours of your pussy lewdly and knowing that Taehyung was about to touch you there had you dripping in more. You can’t remember the last time you were this horny from just foreplay.

Taehyung closes his lips around your pulse point before he sucks a punishing bruise in that patch of skin. “Spread your legs y/n. That’s it.”

He’s cooing at you when you instantly comply, whimpering his name when he presses his entire palm on your clit, rubbing the hard nub in gentle circles while you’re about to cum just from his words alone.

“Look at you. So wet and soaking. Have you always been this wet when you’ve been giving me nasty looks baby? Hm? Tell me.” His pace is increasing and the audible sound of your arousal coming through the layers of clothing makes you want to hide your face from the sheer embarrassment.

“T-Tae. Please.” You’re pleading sounds like you’re on the verge of tears and it’s not too far off from the truth. Your legs are spread but not enough for you to completely enjoy the feel of his hands. Not that he seems to be in any rush though.

“Please what y/n? Please use your pussy as your apology? Are you going to be a mouthy slut or let me use your cunt to milk my cock? It’s the least I deserve after the way you’ve treated me in every lecture.”

He’s pouting in mock hurt as he leans his head forward to look in to your eyes as if you’re not being destroyed by the fast paced circling of your clit under his palm. Your eyebrows are furrowed, eyes half shut as the mind blowing orgasm looms around the corner. You’re about to cry from happiness and relief when he slips your underwear to the side, sliding his middle and index finger in without a warning and without remorse. The force with which he’s pumped his long, thick digits inside jerking back against him. Which only makes matters worse when you can feel the evidence of his own arousal pressing against your back. You’re slightly terrified from the sheer bulk of his erection too because it sits hot and heavy behind you. You just know he isn’t the average size you’re used to and that excite and scares you at the same time.

“Would you listen to that? Your cunt is singing for me babe.” You’d smack him across his chest for being so dramatic and cheesy but the sounds of your excessive wetness just has you hiding your face in his neck. But Taehyung is having none of it when he’s harshly tugging back your head as he weaves his hand in your hair.

“I said listen. You slutty pussy is leaking for me y/n. And you pretend to not even be able to stand my existence.” His words are harsh and said from between his gritted teeth. The sounds of the inside of his palm slapping against your clit with every thrust is obscene and rude. Yet, you can’t seem to care. Only moaning loudly and in a higher pitch with every smack against your heated flesh. Arousal drips steadily around his fingers while your symphony of ‘ahs’ and ‘ohs’ continues – almost sounding like you were in pain.

His grip around your hair is harsh and his pace inside your pussy relentless. It’s like he’s angry. Angry that you’re this wet. Angry that you’re ready to cum around his fingers just like this. That makes the two of you.

“Come on baby. Cum around my fingers. I’ll need it to prep myself before I enter this pussy, hm? You’re too tight for me to just impale you on my cock right now like you want me to. Don’t you?” You’re nodding enthusiastically as your breath hitches with your orgasm ripping through you like a wildfire,

“Taehyung! Fuck I-I’m cumming. Oh god…” You’re heaving and hiccupping as his rigid fingers continue to brush against your sensitive insides until you’re jerking back with each thrust.

“There you go. Easy… easy, baby.” You’re panting like you’ve run a marathon and your neck aches from being bent that way while Taehyung had your head captive.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover as he’s turning you around to pick you up and take you back to the living room, dropping your body down on to the fuzzy carpeted floor. He makes quick work of his shirt and his pants, ridding himself of every item of clothing – not that he was wearing much – before he takes his soiled fingers and wraps them around his extremely intimidating girth. He doesn’t seem nearly as nervous as you but you still don’t stop him. “Take off your clothes for me baby. I want to see you.”

Your body is moving instantly like it was programmed to listen to Taehyung’s every command. Soon, you’re laying back down on the ground, watching him stroke his incredibly hard cock that stood rigid against his toned stomach. He looks like a wolf that’s about to devour you as his pokes out from between the corner of his lips, eyes neve wavering from your own. You’re biting your own lips and squirming on the soft carpet when he just keeps looking and makes no move.

“Spread your legs again baby. Let me see you pussy.” He hisses as soon as your legs fall open, your red, slightly swollen pussy coming in to full view as he finally kneels down to his knees, grabbing your thighs to pull you closer until you were flush against his cock. His hands gently massage the area between your thighs and pussy, needing the rosy flesh and effectively making you drip even more when he looks directly down at his hands that work your labia softly – keeping in mind how sensitive you were.

“Look at you. So puffy. So wet. So fucking beautiful.” He leans forward to look in to your eyes and you’re holding on to your breath when you finally see his face so up close for the first time this evening.

“Can I make you feel good, honey? Will you let my cock make you feel good?” There is no hesitancy in your reply because you’re fisting the soft rug besides you and arching your body in to his.

“Fuck,” it’s the first time you can hear Taehyung’s voice shake as he adjusts his hips and rubs he blunt head of his blood fattened cock against your swollen labia. “I’ve wanted you for so long, y/n. I can’t believe you’re here. Are you sure baby? Because I won’t be able to stop or go gentle once I s-start. Oh fuck.”

You can see how desperate he is for you to say yes but nonetheless, your heart still warms at his concern and even though you were slightly scared of his above average length – and girth – you were mostly excited as the anticipation had built steadily. So you give him the green light, nodding for him to continue.

He seems to be surprised too for some reason and you’re caught off gard when his mouth crashed down to your own. His kiss is ferocious and passionate, tilting his head every which way to capture every noise you make, tongue playing with your own. You’re just enjoying the out of the blue kiss until it all makes sense. Because when you break apart from the kiss to shout out your surprise, you can feel all of his hot length pressing the deepest corners inside your pussy. The kiss had been a perfect distraction and you hadn’t even felt the pain when he’d pushed in.

In fact, the slight burn that was present as he let you adjust around him was more arousing than anything. “T-Tae ungh. You’re s-so big. Oh god.”

He’s watching every facial expression you make and he doesn’t miss the almost drunk expression on your pretty face when he drags his length out slowly, only to slam back inside. Your breasts bounce with every thrust that pushes you further up the carpeted floor. It feels better than good. Better than amazing. You’d never thought you’d enjoy penetrative sex this much after having several mediocre experiences but at this moment, all you wanted to do was egg Taehyung on to go as fast as he could. So you do.

“Fuck y/n.” The seat of his lap slaps against your damp skin as he pounds his leaking cock in to you unremittingly. “You’re so t-tight. The tightest cunt I’ve ever been inside. You like it baby? Hm?”

Taehyung was definitely a dirty talker. All throughout this encounter. He hadn’t stayed quiet for longer than a minute. Always wanting to say what he was feeling, wanted to do to you or was going to do to you. And until today, you never realised how much of a sucker you were for verbal stimulation.

“Y-eh-ess. I lo-uh-ve it.” Your words bounce and hiccup out of you with the same rhythm as Taehyung’s dragging of his cock inside you. It’s like he’d grown even larger and you could cry from how good he felt inside. In fact, you were sure you probably were crying with how blurry your vision was getting.

Taehyung had fully covered your body with his own, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder now to split you open even more before he increased his pace until you felt like he was actually splitting you open.

“Tae! I’m going t-to c-cum again. Oh god.” He was breathing hard, sweat dripping down his temples as his gaze never left your face. You were actually crying now; clawing at his back as you held on while he parted you open every time he pushed the entire girth of his cock until the base so that with every thrust, his balls slapped against your ass obscenely.

“Let go baby. Cum all over my cock.” He could already see the white, translucid creaminess forming around the base of his cock as it continued to slam inside you, signalling how close he himself was with his cock leaking pre-cum profusely. “Fuck, you look so delectable darling. Look at how your pussy gapes around my cock every time, hm? Your pussy was made to fit around my cock. You’re m-mine now. Made j-just for my cock.”

You could tell how close he was since he’d seemed to lost all and every filter on his mouth. Pounding in to you while you clutch on to him for deer life and finally release around his cock that shows no sign of relenting until he reaches his own release. Thankfully, he’s not too far behind as he grabs your legs for the final round, pushing his hips in to the hilt before he’s shouting out his release. You can feel the warmth of his cum explode inside the walls of your pussy, filling you up to the brim until you could feel his spunk leak around you thoroughly abused lips. Taehyung lays his head in to the crook of your neck very much like how you had at the start.

It's peacefully silent as you both catch your breath, your fingers lazily massaging his scalp without even realising. You’re finally gathering your bearings and coming to terms with the fact that you just fucked each other’s brains out when you could barely stand each other before. And you absolutely do not know how to proceed from here. Not when his cock was still inside you. Thankfully, you don’t have to worry about that decision for too long because Taehyung is pulling back his face to stare in your eyes deeply as if he’s also at a loss for words.

You search his face for any disgust or any realisation that will make him pull away from you and you don’t know why you’re this nervous and worried about his reaction. You didn’t care before so why now? Why was your heart beating so fast that you felt like it was going to come out of your mouth?

“Y/N,” Taehyung post-sex, sexy voice breaks you out of your downward spiral as he brings his hand up to caress your cheek damp from the tears earlier. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

You watch him for a few seconds before nodding slowly and that’s all the confirmation Taehyung needs before taking your lips between his once again. And just like that, he kisses you lazily, tangling his hot, sweet tongue with your own for who knows how long. You two stay just like that for a long time, kissing ecahother with so much passion that it scares you how much the thought of breaking away from his lips gives you anxiety. It seems to be the same case for Taehyung because when you break apart to breathe in much needed air, he pulls you back in – mouth open and tongue seeking your own.

Sometime during the night, he’s started to harden inside you once again and rather than breaking away, he fucks you exactly the opposite way he had earlier. This time, it’s slow, even more sensual and the space between your body is almost non-existent. By the time your phone rings and breaks you both out of the haze that had you both intoxicated in the apartment, it’s sometime around midnight. Though Taehyung doesn’t stop even for a second until he’s made you cum once again and spilled himself inside you as well.

The night had definitely taken a turn as you both talk – for once without the intention of insulting each other – and fuck. Mostly fuck actually. Turns out Taehyung made you insatiable and his eagerness and fondness for cumming inside you didn’t exactly help. After replying to Minnie and sending Marion a message of apology, you’re both dozing off on the soft floor.

_________________________________________________________________________

“Come to my art exhibition with me? I want you by my side.” He asks you in the morning, slightly breathless as he grinds his erection – seriously, how often did this boy get hard? – against your damp, soiled pussy, awaking you from your sleep.

“O-Okay.” You can only moan in reply as he takes a nipple between his lips, sucking gently as he coaxes out another orgasm from you before carrying you off to the shower.

“You’re such a horn dog.” Splashing water at his face, you’re laughing as he attacks your sides, tickling you in revenge.

“A horn dog you slept like, a thousand times with.” Your mouth is falling open in mock disbelief but he just kisses your frown away.

“It will be zero times if I see that sex painting at your show!” Taehyung is giggling at your pout and the frown that creases your brows as he kisses it away, promising you that you can burn his ‘sex painting’ before the show.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

a/n: thoughts? :ooo

[korora12]

Ladybug Week Day 3 - Love Letters

Day 2 Day 4

Word Count: 3813

Blake was quickly discovering exactly how much she disliked cows. They were smelly, they were loud, and there was currently an entire herd of them packed into Crescent Rose’s storage bay.

The only relief was that their new passengers were a temporary addition. They’d been hired by a human farmer to ship most of his possessions, as well as his wife and children, from Eltanin to the nearby planet Rastaban. Which meant that their storage bay was filled with cars, tractors, bags of seeds, grain and other stored foods, animal feed, a dog, and 37 of the dumbest animals to ever crawl out of an ocean.

The entire situation might have been a bit more tolerable if Blake hadn’t been stuck in the hold with them, making sure they stayed out of trouble. She sat on the stairwell to the second level and side-eyed the dog she shared a job with. The two had reached a cautious truce, but she still didn’t trust it completely.

Footsteps above her had her turning her head just in time to catch the family’s eldest son begin descending the stairs towards her.

“Evening,” he greeted. “Or, at least, I think it’s evening.” He wrung his hands nervously, but spoke clearly, albeit with an accent. “Mind if I join you?”

Blake waved silently at the empty stairwell. He hesitated, then took a seat. Blake let the silence stretch. This boy had come to her; if he wanted something he’d have to take the initiative himself.

Finally, he spoke. “So, um, you and your captain seem pretty close.”

Blake hadn’t been sure what to expect from her visitor, but that certainly surprised her. Her mind was racing, going back over her interactions with Ruby over the past day and trying to figure out what he’d seen. Synthetic/organic relationships rarely saw any positive treatment so far from the Confederacy capitals, and young men often felt the need to correct perceived wrongs. She was careful not to let any of this show on her face, though. “I don’t see how my relationship with my crewmates is any concern of yours,” she rebuked.

“Of course,” he said, head bowed. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just, well, you don’t see that very often, you know? Between a human and a FAUNIS.”

Part of Blake wanted to remind this kid that he was in her home, on her ship, tens of thousands of miles from the nearest planet, and in walking distance of three different airlocks, which she would throw him out of if he continued to make veiled threats. She very carefully took that part of her psyche and shoved it back in its box, wrapped said box in caution tape, and slapped a “Warning!” label on it.

Instead she asked, “Are you getting any closer to your point?”

He seemed taken aback by her sharp retort. “I apologize. I’m being intrusive, aren’t I? But I have to know, you folks are okay with that sort of thing?”

Blake took a moment to reconsider this boy. She watched how he continued fidget nervously with his hands, how he struggled to meet her gaze, how he kept a comfortable distance between them. Had she misread his intent? She decided to throw him a bone. “No one on this crew has any problems with interspecies relationships, synthetic or otherwise. Why do you want to know?”

“Well,” he started, then cut himself off. He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out an envelope. On the front the word “Foxhill” was written in blue ink. Blake realized she really had misjudged him. “There’s this girl back home. Her name’s Nina Delphinium, but most everyone calls her Foxhill. We’re in love but neither of our families know about it. You see, she’s a FAUNIS, and my parents wouldn’t approve of such a relationship.” From what little interaction she’d had with the family matron, she could easily believe that. “I barely got to say goodbye to her before we loaded onto your ship. I was just wondering, you’re going back to Eltanin at some point, right?” He held out the letter to her. “Could you deliver this for me? I can’t afford to pay much, but it shouldn’t be too far out of your way, right?”

Blake stared at the proffered paper for a moment. “A letter? That’s pretty old-fashioned.”

The boy shrugged. “We’re old-fashioned types out here. Plus, getting a CGT connection is expensive. Pa keeps a close eye on our only connected computer. He can be very controlling. If not, I’d be messaging her every day. Until the mail system sets up a route towards our little valley on Rastaban, you’re my only option.”

Blake only took a moment more to consider the boy who’d come to her so desperately. He was taking a huge risk; the fact that she was a FAUNIS didn’t guarantee she was comfortable with synthetic/organic relationships. “I don’t think I ever caught your name.”

“Benjamin Brunswick, miss, but you can call me Ben.”

Blake took the letter from Ben and placed it carefully in her coat pocket. “I’ll make sure she gets your letter, Ben.”

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It had been weeks since Blake had shown them Ben’s letter and led them on a short hunt for its fated recipient. Ruby had adored the idea of a secret exchange between lovers and was glad Blake agreed. It shouldn’t have surprised her that Blake was a secret romantic, especially considering the topics of some of the book she’d spied her reading when she thought no one could see her, but somehow the thought hadn’t crossed her mind before.

Since then, though, thoughts of the couple had faded and nearly slipped from her memory. Then the video came. It was a pre-recorded message sent via the same line that they’d used to conduct business with the Brunswicks previously.

Ben’s face filled most of the screen and the sight wasn’t pretty. A large bruise covered most of his face, his nose was bent at an unsettling angle, and there were heavy bandages on his neck. None of those features had been there last time they’d seen him.

“To the crew of the Crescent Rose: please, you have to help me. If my father hadn’t kept your contact info on file, I’d be out of luck; there’s no one else I can reach out to.

“Foxhill and I’ve been exchanging letters through the hands of spacers, but one of them must have been less discrete than we’d hoped. My family found out about our correspondence.” He hesitated as he gently touched his face. “Pa didn’t take it well.

“Please, you have to get me out of here! I know I should’ve run away with Nina when I had the chance. I never should’ve gone to Rastaban. I’m nearly eighteen now and I don’t want a thing to do with my family anymore, not if they can’t accept that I love her.

“God, I hope you get this.”

It had been enough for Ruby to start firing up the engines before it had even finished playing the first time. Now, as they approached Rastaban once again, Ruby was having a hard time staying still.

“Ruby, breathe.” It was a simple command, whispered in her ear by the remarkable woman who stood at her back, arms on Ruby’s shoulders keeping her pinned in place. “We’re already doing everything we can.”

“I know, Blake,” Ruby said, leaning into her touch. “But what if that’s not enough. You saw how he looked in the video; he could be dead by the time we get to him.”

“Thinking like that is only going to hurt you. Whatever the situation is when we get there, we’ll deal with it. Until then, all we can do is wait.”

“Waiting is hard.”

Blake’s only response was to turn her hold into a gentle massage.

Ruby watched through the cockpit window as they stood together, cataloguing every second of their descent. Rastaban was covered almost entirely with swirls of sickly-green clouds, only the occasional break revealing the ground beneath. It stood in sharp contrast to the planet they’d recently left. Eltanin was a so-called “Paradise Planet”, meaning it had a biosphere when explorers first found it, and atmospheric makeup was already in a comfortable range for all known intelligent species. Rastaban, on the other hand, required extensive terraforming before it could support life. Thus far a few pockets of land had been deemed habitable. They were headed to a wide valley surrounded by high mountains, where airflow in and out was poor enough that an open-air habitat could be supported with minimal filtration in place. The mountains were high enough that they practically had to come in straight-down. Yang was an expert pilot, however, and she had no trouble turning a rapid freefall into a controlled, smooth landing.

Ruby left the cockpit the moment she could pick out Brunswick Farms from the surrounding land. She trusted Yang to land them safely in the best place she could. She intended to be at the exit ramp the moment they stopped moving.

Without a word spoken between them, Blake and Weiss followed at her back. The three armed themselves with weapons from their lockers as the ship settled to the ground and the artificial gravity shut off in favor of the local flavor.

Ben was waiting for them in an open field when the hatch opened, having undoubtedly seen them coming, bag on his back and determination in his eyes. Behind him was a very angry Bartleby Brunswick with a shotgun in hand. Ben’s mother was visible in the distance, but she didn’t approach.

“Where do you think you’re going, boy? Get back here!”

Ruby’s gun was already at her shoulder, her eye aligned with the scope. She announced their presence with a warning shot at the old man’s feet. He looked at her, acting as if he were noticing her for the first time.

“Hi,” she said, injecting as much cheer into her voice as she could, given the circumstances. Ben seemed to be alive and well, even though he was favoring his right leg, so there was more cheer than she expected. “We’re here to kidnap your son!”

The man made a sound like a stalling car engine.

“Sorry we couldn’t give you more notice,” Weiss added, voice coming not from her mouth, but from the translator wrapped around her neck that turned the internal flashing lights of the Atlesian language into audible sounds, “but you know how these things go.”

His shock morphed into rage. “I should’ve known you lot were no good. Boy! I won’t have you cavorting around with talking rocks and machines with delusions of grandeur! You get back to the house now!”

Ben seemed to shrink into himself, clutching the straps of his bag like a lifeline. But, to his credit, he held his ground. “I’m nearly eighteen; I’m not your boy anymore.” He met his father’s eyes. “I was never going to stay forever. I wanted to help you set up this new farm, to get you through the first harvest, but I can’t do that anymore. I’m sorry, but you’ve driven me to this.”

The man shook with rage. “This is all because of that FAUNIS bitch, isn’t it?!”

Ben seemed to finally snap, going from timid to furious in an instant. “Her name is Nina!” he shouted. “Her friends call her Foxhill! Her favorite color is red, she likes action movies and swimming in the lake, and she’s never once hurt me! She’s a far better person than you!”

The man raised his shotgun and pointed it at his son. Ben flinched. The crack of a gunshot filled the air.

Through a faint trail of smoke coming from the end of her rifle, Ruby watched the man clutching at the bloody stump where his trigger finger used to be. His gun was on the ground, unfired.

The scene held frozen for a moment before Ben seemed to gather his wits once again. “Goodbye,” was all he said before he turned and began limping towards Crescent Rose.

Despite having already lost a finger, Ben’s father still hadn’t decided to back off. He moved to give chase, even as blood poured from his hand, when the growing sound of an engine reached Ruby’s ears.

Fun fact about the layout of the Crescent Rose: a spiral staircase directly connects the cockpit on the third level with the hallway between the bedrooms on the second level. From there it’s nearly a straight shot, barring a few slightly curved hallways, to the straight-run staircase that leads to the storage bay on the first level, which itself connects to the main exit ramp that they currently stood at the bottom of.

Fun fact number 2: Yang has a motorcycle named Bumblebee. On a normal day, Bumblebee would remain in storage unless Yang was riding him planetside. On a normal day, Ruby would be furious if she caught Yang riding him through the hallways of their home.

Fun fact the third: today was not a normal day. Ruby was very angry, which made her willing to overlook certain things.

Yang hit the top of the ramp and soared over their heads, airborne for a hot minute. When she landed, tires bouncing and spinning in the dirt, it was directly between Ben and his father.

“Did I miss the fun part?” she asked.

“Afraid so,” Blake said, “but you’re just in time to help clean up.”

Yang turned her bike and revved the engine, grinning as the man behind her was sprayed with gravel and loose dirt.

Ben continued to advance. He stumbled as he hit the lip of the ramp, but Weiss was already there to catch him. She glanced over him, no doubt cataloguing every one of his injuries. She glared up at the man responsible for them, standing dirty, bloody, and humiliated. “How could you? To your own child?”

If he responded, Ruby didn’t hear him. The moment Yang and Bumblebee were back on the ship the ramp began to raise closed. Yang approached the nearest intercom and activated it. “Autopilot. Command: begin takeoff. Follow preset course.”

Crescent Rose shook as the engines activated, and soon they were in space once again.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

They’d broken lightspeed to get to Rastaban quickly, but fuel for the superluminal engines was expensive; Ruby had them take the long way back. That meant 32 hours of travel, during which their passenger had two different panic attacks and, out of a desire to pay the crew back for helping him, scrubbed every floor on the ship.

When they finally returned to Eltanin, the whole crew saw Ben off. Their reunion was heartwarming; Nina hadn’t been expecting him, but the moment they met each other’s eyes she was running towards him.

As the errant lovers reunited, Nina lifting and twirling Ben in circles, Blake shifted her focus to Ruby. She smiled, still caught up in watching the ongoing reunion, practically glowing in the warm light of day. As if noticing she was being watched, her eyes moved to meet Blake’s.

Her pulse skipped a beat. She opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn’t find the words. Instead she just stared, caught in the moment. Later, she’d look back on the moment and realize what she should’ve said, what she wanted to say. That’s how it always worked, the words not coming until after they were needed, after silver eyes and red hair no longer served as barricades to conscious thought.

This time, however, she might have found a solution in the actions of another.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

To my dearest captain,

The air between us of late has been stifling, filled with all the things we aren’t saying, because actually saying them is too great a challenge. Your presence clouds my mind and jumbles my thoughts; it is soma, a drug to which I am gleefully addicted. But I must abstain for a time, because what needs to be said must be done so with a clear head. And, if I am to be completely honest, I’m scared. I dread your reaction when you read the things I haven’t said. Your smile is the most wonderful thing about you, and I couldn’t stand to be the cause of its disappearance. So I pray you’ll forgive me this one cowardly act.

Since the day our paths first crossed, you have continued to impress and amaze me. One crisis after another has arisen, and you’ve faced each with wisdom and aplomb far beyond what is demanded of your station. Your mind and wit are unequaled throughout the stars. Our ship and our lives could not be in safer hands.

You drive me to be a better person, not by force but by example. You make me want to be worthy of your argent light, so that I know I deserve your smile. And yet, you never demand change, accepting every facet of my being I bare to you. It is the greatest contradiction, that you both make me want to be better, and also make me more comfortable with the woman I already am.

But more than anything, being with you has made me hope again. For a long time now hope has been a dangerous animal. It was another stitch in an infinitely repeating pattern where every rising hope is soon crushed by the gravity of despair, and even worse, apathy. The apathy of fools who are too happy to continue living in a sub-par world, and thusly resist any change. But you make hope beautiful again; the despair is less crushing, less prevalent, and the light of a better future manages to shine in spite of it.

I keep my heart locked tight in my chest and don’t open it easily or often. And yet, in a few short months you have plowed through my barriers with the artifice of one who never realized they existed. You’ve made yourself a place there without my knowing consent, and yet having realized the nature of your act, I find myself welcoming your presence with open arms and baited breath.

Yes, baited breath, because I agonize over thoughts of the future. We’ve seen first-hand the struggles we would face if we grow any closer. We could turn two lives into one, and what would that life then look like? Full of new hardships and struggles that neither of us deserve. It’s all but unheard of for me to let the opinions of strangers divert the course of my life, and yet I cannot bring myself to knowingly drag you into this pit with me.

But even were you to leap in after me, and I promise I would catch you with open arms, I wouldn’t be able to give you all the things you deserve. Humans have needs, primal, basic needs, that I, as a FAUNIS, simply do not. And, though it pains me to admit, I cannot reciprocate in this way.

You are everything I could ever ask for. You are caring, compassionate, hopeful, smart, funny, and so much more. You always see first who I am, and never dwell overlong on what I am. But in return, I could never be everything you need. Always there would be something missing between us.

I care for you deeply. I do not wish to leave the crew, nor to cease being your dear friend. But I think it wise if we go no further than this that we have now.

Faithfully yours,

Blake

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Blake,

You’ve got me at a loss for words. Your letter was beautiful, more than anything I could write myself. But what you’ve said warrants a response, so I’ll have to try.

First of all, you’ve done nothing that needs forgiving. Sometimes when I’m around you I find it hard to speak. Other times I can’t stop myself and everything comes out uncontrollably. Writing everything down on paper like this helps me find a middle ground.

We’ve been dancing on the edge of something for a while, carefully feeling out the shape of what we have and who we are. I still don’t know what that is myself, but this is what I do know: my life would be lesser without you in it. I suspect that it’s only a matter of time before the thought becomes unbearable.

I also know this: the dance, the balancing act between too close and too far, is exhausting. The times when I want nothing more than to throw myself into your arms keep growing in number, but I always hold back out of fear. I’m tired of always being afraid to ruin what we have. And I know moving forward in a relationship is scary too, especially so early on, but I’m tired of being afraid by myself. I want to be afraid with you.

You say that being together would be difficult, and I recognize that. But life is difficult. Regardless of who you share it with, life is still an obstacle course with no prize. I want to face these challenges with you, because you make me stronger. You always seem so mature and confident. It makes me want to impress you every time we’re together.

This is the first time I’ve seen you doubt before. I’m glad to be seeing a new side of you, but please, don’t doubt me. Never doubt how much I care, nor how far I’ll go, for you.

And as far as the topic of sex goes, which is what I think you were referring too, you’re making too much of an issue about it. I won’t deny that I enjoy sex, but it’s not the end-all-be-all of life. Spending my life with someone special is far more important than any physical pleasure.

You are special, Blake. You’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve met, you always stand up for what you believe is right, you’ve got great taste in books, and you’re an amazing fighter. If I listed everything I like about you I’d run out of paper before I finished.

I too want to stay friends with you, Blake, but I don’t want to stop there. I hope this letter changes your mind. I can’t force you to accept me, though, so the decision is yours now. Please respond soon.

Your friend, and maybe something more,

Ruby

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Three sharp knocks tolled from Ruby’s door. Immediately her stomach churned, her heart soared, her mind raced, and her knees shook. She answered the door and spied the one person she hoped and feared would be behind it. She tried to speak, but her breath caught in her lungs before she could.

Blake stood, Ruby’s letter held in her hands, partially crumpled. She met Ruby’s eyes and spoke first. “‘Something more’ would be nice.”

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

Can you be more specific on why you like Arya and Sansa? So many people like Arya for being strong and fierce, but for some reasons so many hate Sansa for what she was like in the earlier seasons. Can you give specific instances why you like both of them? And why not Daenerys? Thanks! (I'm just really curious, please indulge me :) )

I’m going to talk about Dany first (and I’m sticking to the show here, though I have read the books, but they’re never getting finished, let’s be real), and then I'll put my thoughts on Sansa and Arya in another post (hey, you asked, so I’m delivering) because otherwise this will go on forever and it’s cleaner this way. Putting a ‘read more’ here because this is long (lol I’m at work I should be working)

To preface, I would not dislike Daenerys as much as I do if she didn’t want to be queen. I’ll touch on this when I talk about Arya, but I appreciate characters who have the self-awareness required to know who and what they are. Since Daenerys does want to rule Westeros, I have so many issues.

I also think the eighth season is going to see her turning on most of the people she’s currently allied with and I think the catalyst for that is the discovery that Jon is the legitimate child of Rhaegar and Lyanna, and therefore his claim to the throne supersedes hers. I’ll gladly admit that I’m wrong if I am, but right now I don’t think I am. Here’s why.

1) She is an ineffective ruler

After Dany liberated the slave cities of Astapor, Yunkai and Meereen, she stayed to rule and did a terrible job of it. Nobody in particular was better off, the majority of the slaves she freed were homeless and scraping for food in mess halls, and she killed elders who had spoken out against slavery without even listening to what any of them had to say. She has the mind for conquering, not for ruling.

(side note: why does she even want to be queen? It’s something she just seemed to jump on in season two without ever reasoning it out, and from there on in it’s like an obsession that has grown inside her. Now she says she wants to make the world a better place but she hasn’t the skills to do it. It should be enough for her to liberate oppressed societies and allow somebody qualified to fix them. But it’s not.)

The truth is, Meereen saw no real improvement until after Dany skipped town on Drogon, because Tyrion had the idea to replace the slave trade with actual trade. He made changes that impacted the city’s economy and allowed its residents to start supporting themselves, so of course, the slavers attacked just as Dany came back, at which point her bright idea was to decimate an entire armada when she needed ships. Tyrion had to talk her out of it. Which brings me to her next point.

2) She requires constant babysitting

It’s ironic to me that Tyrion told Cersei that “the difference” between Cersei and Daenerys is that Dany knows herself well enough to hire advisors who tell her not to do dumb, impulsive things, firstly because that is such a low bar, Tyrion! There are people out there (Sansa) who do not require that kind of monitoring! Secondly because Cersei is far more self-aware than Dany.

Cersei knows that the things she does are bad and does them anyway because fuck it, she knows she wants power for power’s sake. Dany has such a narrow view of justice that actually thinks she’s being righteous when she burns people to death (more on that later) and that is the most dangerous mindset a leader can have. Compare that, if you will, to Sansa, who quite sensibly told Arya that chopping off heads might feel good but that’s not the way to make people work together. Jorah, Tyrion and Jon have all had to speak out against Dany’s more violent predilections and she’s fast running out of people she wants to listen to. She and Tyrion are certainly hanging on by a thread. Which brings me to my next point.

3) She mistreats her own Hand

The relationship between Dany and Tyrion absolutely reeks of Aerys and Tywin, their respective fathers, who were the best of friends until Aerys’ jealousy and paranoia forced them to opposite sides of a bloody war. Dany is all too happy to take credit for Tyrion’s best ideas when they work (and he is happy to let her) but as soon as one of his plans go wrong she whirls on him and berates him like he’s a piece of trash. Everything’s his fault when a plan goes wrong.

When he brought up the matter of the succession she accused him of plotting her death with his brother, which not only is batshit insane but proves that Daenerys gives far less of a shit about the future of Westeros than she claims to, because if she cared that much, she’d care about planning to carry on the legacy she wants to build. She can’t seem to forgive Tyrion for the heinous crime of…loving his siblings? Trying to broker the most peaceful end to the war? Not wanting his brother to die?

Honestly, her treatment of Tyrion is one of the most telling aspects of her character and I am aghast that nobody seems to be talking about it.

4) Like all of the maddest Targaryens before her, she gets off on burning people

This one isn’t subtle at all. Sorry to drop the intellectual veneer for a moment but she fucking loves that shit. It doesn’t bother her a whit to watch people scream as they’re being burned alive. She takes pleasure in burning people, you can see the satisfaction on her face, and a good leader should never take pleasure in something like that.

(FYI people like to mention how Sansa smiled when Ramsay’s dogs ate him when I make this point and to that I blow a raspberry. That was her personal moment of justice against her rapist and abuser, not the lord of some house who wouldn’t submit to her, there is no fair comparison)

Dany was smiling like a satisfied cat when she burned down the temple of the Dosh Khaleen and killed everybody inside it, which was something she did to seize power, by the way. She didn’t do it to stick it to a bunch of misogynists, though I’m sure that was an added bonus. She did the exact same thing Cersei did to the Sept of Baelor and for the exact same reasons, yet only one of them is painted as a villain by the viewing public even though you can argue that Cersei was also sticking it to misogynists when she killed the High Sparrow. The only reason for that is that Dany was given humble origins while the narrative told us that Cersei was bad from the very beginning.

Theon is still beating himself up for killing and burning those two farm boys — as he should. Stannis burned his daughter and everyone was horrified. Jon was so repulsed to watch Mance Rayder burn that he defied Stannis and shot him in the heart. How many times is the show going to have to tell us that burning people alive is a terrible act of evil before people stop cheering Dany on for it? When Ned Stark was Lord of Winterfell, he understood and felt the weight of executing a man. Jon feels the weight of it, too, as we’ve seen on a couple of occasions. Sansa clearly thought long and hard about executing Petyr — that’s what her moment of reflection on the battlements was meant to show us. Dany just… doesn’t care. I think she cared a bit when she had Daario execute Mossador, but I can’t think of any other occasion where she has been directly responsible for a death and been remotely bothered by it.

So. yes.

I think the reason a lot of people – and in particular a lot of women – support Daenerys is because she has a girl power narrative. She does have a girl power narrative, it’s true, but that is not a good enough reason to support a character who on so many occasions has proven herself to be unqualified for the job she wants, not to mention bordering on dangerously unhinged and increasingly paranoid. In that sense I think her season 1 narrative was genius, because her origins and the way in which she started to gain power (as well as her gender) has granted her a kind of automatic forgiveness for behaviours that several male characters – and Cersei, most importantly, because she also has a girl power narrative (and she and Dany are two peas in a pod) but the show told us she was a baddie from episode one – would be dragged through the mud for. And I’m sorry, but it’s not good enough for me. I’m not going to support a powerful female character just because she’s a powerful female character who did some good things once. Powerful women can be good or bad.

Some other points re: Daenerys

The dragons are weapons of mass destruction and need to be killed. They’re nukes with wings. She’s burned her own people with those monsters because fire doesn’t fucking differentiate. Sorry not sorry.

The Targaryens are literally GRRM’s interpretation of the Aryan race. It’s practically in their name.

“I have tried to make it explicit in the novels that the dragons are destructive forces, and Dany has found that out as the tried to rule the city of Meereen and be queen there. She has the power to destroy, she can wipe out entire cities, and we certainly see that in Fire and Blood, we see the dragons wiping out entire armies, wiping out towns and cities, destroying them, but that doesn’t necessarily enable you to rule – it just enables you to destroy.” – George R R Martin, folks.

One of the show’s directors, Jack Bender, made a reference to Hitler when talking about her. He said we should be “horrified” by her. No shit, Jack. No shit.

“Do you wonder if the gods ever get lonely?” Just… this line. Get a grip, woman.

[neverwatchedonepiece]

613-614: "Showing Off His Techniques! Zoro's Formidable One Sword Style!" and "To Save Her Friends! Mocha Runs at the Risk of Her Life!"

I feel like by the time Luffy finds Caesar, his rage will have reached critical mass.

The best actor awards in episodes 613 and 614 obviously go to Zoro and Chopper. Best supporting actors must also be given credit and the plaudits go to Tashigi and little Mocha.

From a narrative standpoint, I’d say these episodes continue the “tying up loose ends” theme from the last two. But there’s also a decent chunk of character development here, especially from Zoro in 613.

Cuz You’re My Bro, Bro.

The action picked up with Sanji leading his G5 Fans out of the Biscuit Room and away from “Harpy-chan”. Onward they charged to serve the noblest of causes: impressing Nami and Robin by saving the kids!

The G5 Fans had a teeny problem, though. Why didn’t Sanji, their saviour, help out earlier when Monet was chewing through shoulders?

Sanji told them straight. “Don’t be dumb. I don’t kick women.”

A G5 dude said what we all probably thought, “Then what would you do in a life or death situation?”

Again, Sanji told them straight. “I’d choose death.”

At this point I would normally insert the man blinking gif, but at least I have confirmation that Sanji hasn’t changed that much over the timeskip. It is dumb that he would never fight back (and dangerous, if you remember Kalifa). Also, not a good idea to inform the Marines of your major weakness. Still, it’s a huge part of Sanji’s character, will likely never go away, and as long as he doesn’t endanger another Strawhat by refusing to fight a lady, I guess I’ll just accept it.

The G5 Dudes were surprised to hear this from Sanji. These Strawhats were all so different, even though they work in the same pirate group. That pirate hunter guy, Zoro. He looked like he’d chop up anyone without mercy!

That comment made Sanji laugh. “Surprisingly, he has a soft side too. He’ll find a way out. You can count on him. Don’t worry. And don’t worry about Tashigi-chan, either.”

“You can count on him.”

There you have it, folks. Proof that, even though they rag on each other constantly, it’s more like two really close guys bickering and bantering back and forth, rather than actual dislike. I never ever believed they disliked each other. They just love bickering and noising each other up. Plus, all the bickering pushes them to achieve. Zoro’s success drives Sanji to be better and vice versa.

And Sanji does not dismiss Tashigi either, which is nice. Sanji acknowledged Zoro’s strength by saying, “Yeah, he’ll find a way out.” He also did the same for Tashigi. That could be evidence for the argument that Sanji does not view women as inferior. He’s just an old-fashioned, chivalrous type who feels like must protect women.

Which leads us neatly on to Zoro.

The Jury’s out on This One. Or Is It?

Back in the Biscuit Room, Zoro and Tashigi were already butting heads. Zoro insisted he didn’t need Tashigi’s help. 

She countered with, “You think whatever you want”. 

Zoro shot back with, “you want me to take care of you first, since I’m a pirate, Marine soldier girl?”

And Tashigi revealed what she thought was the root of Zoro’s problem with Monet. “You can’t do that. You are not going to cut me or that woman.”

She believes Zoro looks down on her because she’s a woman.

I’m not sure about that, to be honest. I think Zoro’s better than that. And here’s why.

Tashigi recalled her first encounter with Zoro way back in Loguetown. She was defeated by him then and angrily asked why he wouldn’t finish her, Mortal Kombat style. “Is it because I’m a woman? It’s humiliating that you won’t fight seriously in a game played in earnest just because men are physically stronger than women! I’m sure you don’t understand the feeling that I wish I was born a boy. I don’t carry a sword for pleasure.”

Leaving aside the possibility that Tashigi might one day pay Ivan-san a visit, as a female swordsman and Marine captain, she has obviously come up against the roadblock of sexism time and again. If someone looks down on her, it’s because of that.

I do think Zoro was being honest when he said the reason he couldn’t fight her was because she reminded him of his friend who had died. I think he was genuinely spooked back then.

But Tashigi didn’t believe him. “You view women as inferior. You don’t really try to fight us. You won’t kill us. You might not lose but you won’t win against Monet, either.” She basically said that if she let Monet go after her men, there would be carnage. Which was true.

Zoro said, “Are you looking down on me?”

Tashigi’s reply was a blunt, “Yes.”

“Fine. Do what you want.” Zoro sheathed his swords. “My duty is to keep her again from my friends too. All I have to do is block that path.”

What I think happened here is that Zoro thought, “Fine. I’ll let you handle this and I’ll see how you go.” Not in a patronising way. More like a “big brother” or “senpai” role. Kind of like how he is with Chopper and Usopp and Nami, the slightly weaker members of the crew. He’ll let them do their thing, but if he has to step in for their safety, he will do so without hesitation.

Zoro knows he’s the stronger swordsman here, but did not rub that in Tashigi’s face. He sat back and thought, “Good. You’ve improved a lot since Loguetown. You do have some fighting spirit, after all. Fine, you take this and if I need to, I’ll step in, but only if it gets really bad.”

And that’s pretty much how the fight panned out.

Were These Manga Panels? (Because They’re Awesome)

It was good to see that Tashigi’s confidence has grown. She snapped back at Zoro. Her fight with Monet confirms she has learned haki. (Probably a must for higher ranking officers in the New World.) She is tough, determined and strategic as she would not let go even when Monet was munching her shoulder. Nom, nom, nom.

But what the fight with Monet also confirmed is that if a logia user is fast enough, bog-standard haki will not cut it. I’m actually cool with that because it means Luffy won’t be able to just blitz everyone with Conqueror’s Haki (I know it only works on fodder but still, you know how I like a bit of peril in plot.) This also bodes well for the Smoker fight. Vergo is strong in the way of Haki but Smoker is a fast, tricky Logia type. Should be a good fight, when we get to see the end of it.

The speed differential meant Monet gained the upper hand. The way she gnawed on Tashigi’s shoulder was savage.

This is when Zoro thought, “Okay. Enough. Big brother has seen enough of Tashigi being bullied.”

Even unsheathing his swords, Zoro does damage. (The warning cut on Monet’s face should have been her cue to scarper.)

Still, Zoro would never, ever admit that he likes to help out anyone because that would ruin his pirate-hunter image. So he shit-talked Tashigi a bit. “You talk big but you took so much time. Time’s up. I have to go now.”

And to Monet, he said, “When you thought you couldn’t beat me, you should have run. Of course there are things I don’t wanna cut. But let me ask you something. Have you ever seen a fierce animal you were sure would never bite? Because I haven’t.”

The grey filter descended. Everything was in slow motion. Monet could not move.

Then, with his one-sword style: Great Dragon Shock, Zoro literally ripped Monet a new one.

Honestly, the Zoro and Tashigi fight was so damned savage. There was Monet, lying on the ground in two pieces, twitching and flailing and freaking out because she could no longer control her body (nightmare fuel) and Zoro wise-cracking, like, “Are you two happy now?” xD

And do you know what? Zoro didn’t even use haki. If he had, Monet would probably be dead.

But Monet did get up and tried to strike again - and this time, Tashigi was the one to finish her off. (Laws of shounen. Women have to fight women. The trope was so close to being subverted!)

Of course, Tashigi ragged on Zoro for not killing Monet. “You are like that, after all! You can’t fight seriously against women.”

Nah... I don’t think it’s that, exactly. think Sanji’s right about Zoro. He does have a softer side. But it’s not like Sanji’s, in that he wants to protect women. Zoro just likes to help out deserving people who are not as strong as him. Secretly, though, while maintaining his surly demeanor.  And maybe he just doesn’t like killing all that much. If they’re a good opponent, you can fight them again someday, right? Why waste them?

YMMV, of course, and I don’t mind if anyone disagrees. I can see the evidence for the other side too.

And, of course, Tashigi collapsed from her injuries and Zoro had to lift her out of the Biscuit Room. Just as well, really, because the gas was leaking in and Zoro has no sense of direction. I think this is a new record for Zoro: getting lost in a round room with two doors.

How sweet was that little scene with Tashigi geeking out over Shisui, though?

I think from now on, Zoro and Tashigi will be secret buddies. :)

IT’S SAD CHOPPER, NOOOOOOOO... ;_;

I love Chopper. Ever since I learned about his past back on Drum Island, I have had a major soft spot for Chopper. Fun fact: I own a Chopper key topper, a Chopper roll-up pencil case and a giant Chopper mug I drink coffee from every morning without fail. You could say I am a Chopper fan.

I like his honesty, his cleverness and his kindness. Cleverness is not a rare commodity in scientists at Caesar’s level. But kindness and honesty? Those are first edition shiny Charizard rare qualities.

And I’m gonna frame this bit of discussion of Chopper by comparing him with Caesar. Because Caesar has said the following phrase several times this arc, to the point it stood out to me: “I will treat you at any cost.”

Every time I heard him say that, I was like, “Nice significant omission, Caesar. You’ll treat them with your crazy drugs at any cost. You’ll treat them with that poisoned candy at any cost. You will continue your “treatments” at any cost.” Another sugar-coated lie with a basis in truth. The sort Caesar specialises in.

I was not aware of the actual cost until now.

The morality bar has officially given up and gone home. It’s crying on the sofa now because it can’t deal with Caesar anymore. (@infriga That human garbage comment... Oda is not wrong there. xD)

Mocha Regrets Doing The Chili Pepper Challenge

The action in 614 picked up with Robin and Chopper teaming up to restrain and sedate children. Not in a Nurse Ratchet way. They were helping.

The kids still running free were being held back by Nami and Mocha. Well, Nami tried to hold them back without hurting them (which is nigh impossible with her weather skill set) and Mocha ran with the candy.

Inevitably, the giant kids were the real obstacle. One took a might swing and Nami and suddenly, Mocha was on her own. She ran to a crossroads, and then, like Gandalf at Moria, she was like, “I have no memory of this place.”

But the other kids did. Some looped round and cut her off.

Must admit, at this point I thinking, “Jeez, just let them have the damned candy and you can sedate them later. They’ve been dosed for years. One more won’t kill them.”

Because Mocha knew it was, in fact, the opposite, she decided to take one for the team and NECK THE ENTIRE LOT OF CANDY IN ONE GO.

Even I gasped at that one. That was a major, major overdose. Even Chopper had never seen anyone put away that quantity of drugs before. He was screaming at her to spit them out. He had told her what kind of drug it was! But Mocha hamstered them in her cheeks for a while and I thought, cool, she’ll hold them there until the kids are all sedated. Job done!

Nope. This is Oda we’re talking about.

He was about to engage Sad Chopper and Certain Death and I was not ready for them.

Chopper and Caesar Compared

Remember when Chopper and Mocha were holding the door against the other kids? There was a bit of that conversation OP fans were not party to (Oda’s fave cutaway technique in action again).

Mocha asked Chopper if Caesar really was a bad person. He was always so lovely to them and gave them candy every day. 

“Yes,” Chopper said. “That’s his trick. You kids are his test subjects. You were never sick from the beginning and your giant body is proof. I’ve heard turning people into giants has been a project underway for hundreds of years. No one has ever succeeded. This experiment is a doomed failure too. Caesar knows this. I suppose he’s just collecting data for his next attempt.”

Then poor, little Mocha asked a difficult question. “What’s going to happen to us?”

Chopper dropped the heavy truth bomb.

“You’re all gonna die. None of you will make it home. That candy is a deadly poison. It will destroy your body before you know it. The more you eat, you’ll crave more and the harder it’ll be for you to get away from Caesar. I sedated you already but from the side-effects from the candy... you’ll probably die before you can even become an adult.”

Ouch. 

Huge, huge ouch. 

Especially since Mocha had a short flashback where the kids all got together and promised to go out to sea when they were in their twenties and have an adventure. Once they got better and went home. ;_;

I mean, hefty truth bombs of that magnitude are not normally the way you’d deal with breaking such crushing news to kids. But that’s not Chopper’s way. He is kind and honest, almost to a fault. Plus, they were in a really highly-charged, difficult, life-or-death situation. The truth was probably the quickest way to impress on Mocha the seriousness of what was happening.

Chopper also hinted they might not die, “but only if you kids escape now. You’re not gonna die. We will save you all!” That glimmer of hope led to Mocha making a noble sacrifice for her friends. If she could show them what the candy did, they wouldn’t want to eat it. Then they’d want to go home, just like her.

But here’s the thing... Chopper told Mocha the truth. Even though it shook her to the core and distressed her deeply, it was the right thing to do and helped Mocha take difficult steps to improve her situation. Being carted away by Sanji and his G5 fans to a treatment room, Chopper said: “I will save you at any cost, Mocha!” 

Chopper will do anything to save Mocha, which means getting her better, off the drugs and home to her parents.

This is in stark contrast to Caesar, who always said, “I will treat you at any cost.”

The treatment was the experimental drug and the cost was Mocha’s life.

Caesar wanted data to further his own ambitions. 

Chopper’s motivations are entirely selfless.

Chopper for President.

Oh, and btw, Luffy punched his way out of the garbage pit. The haki use on the fodders and the “Do I have to repeat myself?” moment was badass.

Caesar, you’d better get a jar because you’ll need somewhere to put all your loose teeth.

Caesar has made Luffy so angry he tries punching through the fourth wall to find him.

[deathwitch-wra]

Wolf’s Eyes: Part 1

Far off in an old farm house still kept warm with fire, a white haired woman kept her watch. Swirling a glass of wine in her hand as she browses through her scripts. The flame of the fire with in and under the mantle danced in her eyes. Appearing human, but to any who saw her, her eyes would show there was more than appearances let on. A heavy conflict, a lifetime worth of battle beneath the surface. With all the turmoil that had been brewed, there was always the lingering hope that fed and kept the battle going. "We're fine here, there are plenty that come through to feed on..." The woman sighed heavily. A darker voice familiar to the first. "Foolish woman, we need family like before. Don't you wish to see her once more? Besides, what good are a few savage animals in comparison to seeing the world with her? You know that woman just waited for a moments weakness to take what she can't manage on her own." The softer voice, "She wouldn't do that. She's my best friend..." The voice wavered. She had wanted to believe all she'd done was right but after so many years even her hope waned from time to time.

The darker voice, "Tell me of those long conversations. Why would a woman of her stature befriend you? Some one of your... assets? It just doesn't mix. An educated 'Lady' of the church. Why on Azeroth would she befriend a criminal marked by the crown? She only followed you long enough to take the babe." The white haired woman shook her head, "No! Sah wouldn't..." she fell quiet as tears filled her eyes. She missed her friend and missed her daughter all the more. As her head was turned the red eyes caught glimpse of the parchment and inks set out on the table. Scrolls of runes and clean parchments. There was the sound of a grin on the darker voice, "It wouldn't be difficult you know. To get her back. You've done just what the job requires for all but yourself. It's time to take care of your family. Unless you plan on leaving her with the evil nobility that your father left you with... If you're that weak then you made the wrong bond, doll." The thoughts continues to reel through the white haired woman's mind. The other was right. She held plenty of skill of a scribe. She'd forged plenty of documents, it'd not be difficult to forge the church's hand. A saving grace crossed reminding her why she had let the two go so long ago. But the grace and light was pushed back by the darkness that always came with the other's enforced presence. She had grown impossible to ignore and more and more impossible to keep out. The other sent images of her daughter in the hands of the white haired woman's step mother. Forced and mistreated. Prompted and heckled. A pebble in the shoe of the caregivers eyes. Shaking her head and blinking away the tears, she washed down the glass of wine, "I'll do it. But if this does not work we stop here." The darker voice grinned yet again, "Whatever you wish." And the white haired woman, Josalora, sat at her table and began to delicately use specialized inks and parchment to mimic an official crown and church order of custody.

It was not long after Sahirra had returned to Westguard with the Valterics that orders had come from the church that she was needed for duty in Stormwind. She'd offered to take Josylyn along with her but at the protest of the Lord and Lady insisting she remain due to previous threatening circumstances, the Noble Priestess allowed the girl to stay. Trusting the couple and their guards to call to protect the cherished package even more so if not the same as she had. Sahirra had in fact helped the girl's mother birth her, remained as supportive as she could be as her mother followed the winding path known to those who practiced darker things. And it was Sahirra that had whisked the girl off to safety after her own blood had crossed a line. Raising the child as her own, growing to love the girl as her own daughter. To any who saw them pass in the streets it wasn't natural to doubt that the girl was not the priestess' own blood. Fate was kind in that aspect. Dawning her gold and green robes she had arrived back in Stormwind. The priestess having been raised in it's service was still responsible for the debt of gratitude. When some one was needed else where for a time she'd be summoned. Serving time taking confessions, offering a shoulder and guidance of the light as well as any medical services the Cathedral might see need for. She remembered the times of war. A bloodied soldier was not a new sight. It came with the territory. Save whom you could, her mentor had guided her. "Hold the hands of those meant for better reach the light.." She repeated the words as she looked over her attire once more. She took up her libram from the small side table of the bed and made for the door. Another night's work, and how she had disliked the night shifts, either too quiet or too bustling to truly be any good. It had always struck her funny how the light could not manage it's er on the terms of waking men and women. Then again it was not her place to say, but to abide and aide. The journey back was it's usual, nothing outstanding. The men who wished to let their smile linger as they begged forgiveness, those who truly meant it and sought honest answers, and a few light bandaging of those incarcerated from a bar fight. Another night in Stormwind over a long weekend. In the later hours of the evening she took a break to find a bite of food. Discarding a soiled apron and unpinning her hair and washing the basins and beds. One she truly had a moment to breath she reached for an apple from an alter boy and made her way out to rest near the fountain. She took solace in the steady woosh of the water. And as she thought over her return little did she know that Dalaran was only a small beginning to an issue that was misguidedly thought to be handled.

White hair of the warlock was tousled in her face. It had been days of gathering supplies and the scrolls had turned out rather well. It would take much digging to learn the documents were forged. By that time she planned to have the deed finished. In and out, quickly as a fleeting sparrow. A grin curled wickedly at her lips as she looked over her handy work. It had been sometime she'd put this much effort into a job. Even though she was being pushed by her demon to convict a priestess of the light, there was some part of her true self that had missed these sort of dealings. A stray thought echoed, "Why had I ever stopped?" She chuckled. As she used her staff to press herself upward, she thought over just who else might be needed. In her time in and out of the guard shacks destroying documents or adding to orders, whatever her mistress had once bid. She looked down to the branded mark of the cog on her left palm with a fondness. Setting to her wardrobe preparing for a night on the city for the last of a recipe of the demon's destruction.

It was her last night of duty before being allowed to return to the Northern lands with her daughter. A young Alterac pup followed her steps into the Cathedral Square. It was a beautiful night, the moon shining brightly. In loving her work, but her daughter more nights like this were always bitter sweet on both parts. She held her libram in a hand as she whispered warm prayers of thanks for her blessings. She watched the water of the fountain and the children at play. Suddenly one of the matrons beckoned the children quickly to tuck in for the night. Sahirra thought it odd the woman's voice, but assumed it was because she was new... or was she? As she began to wonder, she heard a voice that brought her attention to the Cathedral stairs, "What do you mean I can't go in?!" A man shouted. A woman near the man's side looked at the row of the guards keeping people out, a paladin baring marks of General speaking stearnly to the gathering crowd, "This area is under quarantine. There have been a number of reported outbreaks of an infection. The Cathedral is needed space for treatment. See a medic at the designated areas if you believe to suffer the symptoms. I'd suggest you all return to your homes." The flame haired priestess neared the stairs looking over with concern. She'd been present in events like this and so she made her way slowly through the crowd so as not to add to the panic. A woman yelled in a worried tone, "My son is in there! Let us in!" Scanning the faces, it seemed mostly couples or younger citizens aiding parents, either for mass or what Sahirra had figured worried over those held within the walls. She remembered from her studies that the infections that passed through the city and camps usually hit smaller children and elderly or those who suffered a wakened state previously, the hardest. Sahirra made her way to one of the bishops she was able to spy near the side of the guards line. He was being aided by a few alcolytes at what she assumed, again, was one of the designated areas specified by the General. There were more and more people collecting at the stairs, demanding to know what was occurring. The priestess was quickly filled in and set to work. She had been informed that as of the moment the infection was not known to effect those of the light, though some who had claimed to hold the light, had fallen ill. The Bishop spoke that it was the Light's way to show truth of one's faith. The over heard ramblings of the church's leader's called as many as the Cathedral could hold and work effectively with the rising influx of ill filtering in through the guards. Among the warnings and bustling, the priestess was informed that with her entry she too was under a sort of quarantine as the extra hands were needed more where they were. Her heart sank realizing she'd not make it back as soon as she had planned. Through out the night, she made her way out for a breath of air and slip word to one of the guards to please deliver her status to the Valterics and a paladin known as Adlai Pheonixdown if nothing more than at least gave where his sister might be found at a clinic on the canals.

[aurora077]

Harry Potter and the OMG Hermione is not ugly

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12755845/1/Harry-Potter-and-the-OMG-Hermione-is-not-ugly

Summary: Harry has a realisation. Can be read as a companion piece to Harry’s Woeful Week but can also work as a standalone I hope.

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter franchise is owned by the lovely JKR.

 Harry Potter had been acting weird, Hermione observed. Of course she had first attributed it to stress, after all the past couple weeks had been crazy. The death eaters had broken out of Azkaban and Sirius was being blamed. Harry had done an interview with Rita Skeeter of all people at Hermione’s own request and then subsequently saw the Quibbler being banned by Umbitch because of it. So many things had been happening. Harry’s Occlumency lessons were going terribly and he was moody with her for a bit because she scolded him for not trying hard enough when he saw through Voldemort’s eyes once more. Then to top it off that hag Umbish had sacked Professor Trelawney and as much as Hermione disliked the woman she conceded that even she didn’t deserve that treatment.

But Harry couldn’t still be mad at her could he? He was avoiding her eyes lately. And sometimes she’d catch him looking away from her as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. She was worried that either he really did do something he shouldn’t have and didn’t want her to find out, or that he was still peeved with her for scolding him. She’d ask him a question sometimes and he’d give a start and answer her stuttering or in a strange high pitched or squeaky voice. She had taken to observing him and noticed that he hadn’t been doing that around anyone else. She was really starting to become quite concerned. But before she could think more about Harry, she really needed to finish her transfiguration essay. She’d have time to question Harry later. For now she’d just enjoy her dessert and then head to the library. She closed her eyes and savoured the warm treacle tart, giving a small mmm of contentment while coming up with points to research in her head. The house elves (who she’d make sure to visit and thank when she could spare a minute) were really quite wonderful chefs.

ixixixxixiixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixi

Ronald Weasley was once described as having the emotional range of a teaspoon. He was also accused of being as observant as a dead dormouse. But even Ron, with his limited capacity for observation, had noticed that something was off with his best mate. Of course, it was thanks to his favourite thing in the world that drew his attention to it: food. Ron decided he really needed to speak to his friend after he noticed Harry slowly nibbling on his treacle tart at dinner the night before. Normally Harry would devour treacle tart the way Ron ate everything else. But that wasn’t the only reason Ron thought something was up. No, the more concerning thing was that while basically ignoring his favourite dessert, he was staring at Hermione eating hers. How Hermione didn’t feel the weight of his gaze Ron didn’t know, but that stare was usually reserved for the treacle tart rather than the person eating it. Evidently though, Hermione’s mind was on her schoolwork (as usual Ron thought) as she decided to pose a question to Harry about their latest transfiguration assignment. Except, between Hermione lifting her eyes off her own dessert and training them on Harry, a strange but wonderful thing happened (in his eyes at least). Ron’s glee couldn’t be contained and his mirthful laughter rang out, joined by the rest of his house (sans a wide-eyed Harry and a bewildered Hermione).

ixixixixixiixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixiixixixixix

 Harry had been lost in his own thoughts during dinner. He had failed to realise that his male best friend had been looking at him with a bemused and slightly worried expression as his attention was solely occupied by his female best friend. Harry didn’t know how to explain it but after his disastrous date with Cho he’d been realising certain things that he didn’t know how to deal with. You’d think that he’d be more worried about Umbridge or the escaped death eaters, but Harry knew decisively how he felt on those fronts. No, it was this new awareness that was bothering him. You see, Harry Potter had done a lot of thinking after his first date had gone awry. For hours he would toss and turn in his bed, trying to figure out how it had gone so wrong and what he could have done to make it better and if there was a potion he could take to make him understand girls. Harry Potter after all, was still a teenager, despite being the Chosen One or the Boy Who Lies (thought they were so clever for that one they did) or whatever hogwash the Daily Prophet was calling him these days.

Cho Chang, his first crush, had initially been the cause of his distress. You see, Harry had been very confused when Cho, on their date, had shown such animosity when speaking of Hermione. As far as Harry knew, Hermione had never really interacted with Cho, so for her name to be said with such venom by the Ravenclaw had really perplexed and unsettled him. He hadn’t felt right listening to Cho speak of Hermione that way. And it hadn’t felt right when Hermione had tried to explain why the date went south and what he should have done instead. Because you see, Harry was never one to lie just for the heck of it. So when Hermione had said to him “And it might have been a good idea to mention how ugly you think I am” Harry honestly refuted it because he truly didn’t think she was ugly. And why should he tell a blatant lie like that? What would it accomplish?

He had gone to bed to try and clear his thoughts after the date, but he hadn’t gotten any answers until the next day, with some help from a friend. So here he was, at dinner several weeks later, with an entirely new problem.

*flashback Sunday 15th February 10:30pm*

Around and around the thoughts swirled in his head. Why did Cho seem to hate Hermione so? Why was Cho angry that he wanted to meet his best friend after their date even though she was invited along? Why did Cho agree to go out with him but then tell him that Davies asked her out? Why did she come with Harry then if she preferred to be making out in public with Davies? Why was she always crying whenever she was with him? Why did she always seem to bring up the last topic he wanted to discuss with her aka Cedric? Why were they so awkward together? Why did Hermione think he should lie to Cho? Why of all lies would she want him to say she was ugly? Why? Why? Why? All Harry succeeded in doing was giving himself a major headache. He imagined himself as Wile E. Coyote holding up a help sign while staring at the anvil that’s inevitably going to drop on his head, leaving a bump and several chirping birds twirling around it.

All day these thoughts had plagued him but at least he had had others around to keep him occupied. Now, laying in the dark there was just him and his mind. He knew sleep wouldn’t claim him anytime soon, so he snuck out of the dorm as quietly as possible and found himself a cozy armchair near the fireplace. He leaned back and sighed forlornly. At times like this he found himself missing his parents terribly. He had never known them but he was sure that they would have been able to help him out. As it is, they were gone and he had to accept it. (He had of course, quite forgotten the mirror Sirius had gifted him, or he might have been able to at least talk to his godfather about his issues.) He stared into the fireplace, for once his mind not focused on his date, but with a new melancholic train of thought to replace it. So focused he was that he startled with an audible squeak when the portrait hole opened.

“W..who’s there?” came a voice in response to his squeal. Harry relaxed. He recognised the owner of the voice.

“It’s just me Neville. Just getting in from detention with Filch I suppose?” Harry said.

He could hear the relief in Neville’s voice as well when he answered yes. “What are you doing up Harry?” Neville asked.

Harry considered answering with a simple ‘couldn’t sleep’ but for some reason in the dark stillness of the common room he felt more open than he normally would. He sighed and then said, “I had a lot on my mind, to be honest. Yesterday wasn’t the greatest for me. I expected to have a pleasant day but instead it was really quite confusing. I have too many questions and no answers that I can understand.”

“Why didn’t you talk to Ron or Hermione about it? I’m sure they could help. Hermione is really good at figuring out stuff,” Neville replied.

“I did speak to her but she really just left me feeling even more confused,” confessed Harry, “And as for Ron, I really don’t think he could help me here. He’s probably going to be equally confused.”

“Well, you can talk to me if you’d like,” Neville said, hesitantly, “I’ll do my best to help you if I can.”

And so, Harry ended up telling him everything. He had to admit, saying everything out loud was kind of a relief. Letting it out of his head was half the battle.

He never thought that he’d be giving Harry Potter of all people advice. But he had found himself offering to listen at least and help if he could. He doubted it though, because if Hermione Granger couldn’t help then how could he? But Harry was his friend and he’d do his best anyway. So when he heard what was troubling Harry, he was really quite surprised. Neville could probably actually have some answers for him. He really never expected it to be this simple. Though to Harry he was sure it wasn’t. He just hoped Harry didn’t get angry with him or anything if he didn’t like or agree with what Neville thought. But he was a Gryffindor after all so Neville would answer anyway.

He looked at Harry whose eyes seemed to be pleading with him to give him some clarity. He certainly hoped that he would be able to help. Neville took a deep breath, “Well Harry, I’d say Cho was jealous.”

“Jealous? What do you mean jealous?” Harry asked perplexed. It seemed unfathomable to him that Cho should be jealous of anything when Harry liked her so much.

“Um..well to answer your questions about why she’d be so angry about you talking to Hermione but not Ron, and why she was so annoyed when you said you would meet Hermione....it just seems that she’s jealous and a bit angry of course. As Ron discovered at the Yule Ball, Hermione is a girl after all,” Neville said, “To you she’s your friend Hermione. To Cho she’s the other girl you agreed to meet on Valentine’s Day.”

He didn’t know why it took Neville quoting Ron for it to hit him, but it worked. Of course he always knew Hermione was a girl, even before the Yule Ball, but Hermione was in the category of friend. He’d never really thought much about it because it was him and Ron and Hermione. That was who they were. She was dear to him in the same way Ron was. But of course Cho saw it as Harry hanging out with another girl. Cho didn’t see Hermione the way he did. She just saw Harry going to meet another girl.

“Wow. I don’t know what to say but thanks Neville,” said Harry, “I mean I really never would have thought about it like that.”

“It’s no problem mate. And I would hazard a guess that’s why she brought up Davies asking her out. She probably wanted to see how you would react. I think....well...I think she wanted to see you be jealous too,” he said.

Well that made sense to Harry now. Cho was probably trying to see if he was serious about her.

“But what about all the crying? I mean honestly Nev, I feel like every time she sees me just wants to talk about Cedric,” Harry admitted, “Like sure we talked about Quidditch and stuff but it seemed....shallow really. It was really, really awkward. I mean I get we don’t know each other very well yet but I don’t know Luna or Ginny that well and it isn’t awkward like that with either of them.”

Neville had to be careful how to word his thoughts on that matter. “I think it’s normal to feel somewhat awkward when you like someone,” he started, “Luna and Ginny are your new friends so you aren’t trying to impress them or anything so it’s normal with them, but with Cho you have other feelings and so you feel more nervous around her.”

Harry nodded, accepting what he was saying. But Neville wasn’t finished. “The thing is mate....you and Cho aren’t really a normal couple,” he said.

“What do you mean by that?” Harry said, looking slightly offended.

“Well for one....you were the last person with her boyfriend before he died. I’m not saying she doesn’t like you, but I think...well I think a part of Cho wants to get close to you because it helps her to feel closer to Cedric. That’s why she keeps asking all these questions about him like if he mentioned her before he died,” he said, and Harry’s face fell.

“So you think she’s just using me then?” Harry said, voice trembling slightly.

“Yes and No,” he said, and hastened to explain when he saw Harry start to look confused again, “I think I agree with what Hermione told you in December. Cho does like you but she feels guilty because it’s like betraying Cedric’s memory. I think she isn’t fully over Cedric. When a person dies, our feelings for them don’t just go away after all. At the same time you’re the only one who can tell her about the last moments of his life. I think Cho is conflicted and doesn’t truly know what she wants. That’s why she’s always crying around you. Her emotions are too much for her to handle because she’s fighting with herself. She hasn’t moved on from her feelings for Cedric and she isn’t over his death. Liking you makes her feel incredibly guilty I imagine. Someone like Davies now, there’s no complications there, but with you it’s definitely complicated.”

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, “How in Merlin’s name did you get so knowledgeable about stuff like this? Ron would never be able to give me answers like that.”

He smiled at that. “Well for one most of my friends are girls. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I don’t really fit in that well with the guys, especially in Gryffindor,” he said, his voice going quieter at the end.

And despite his urge to protest, Harry knew it was true. Neville did hang out more with Luna and Ginny, and even those Hufflepuff girls Susan and Hannah, than with Dean or Seamus or other guys in their house or otherwise. “And well, I did go to the Yule Ball with Ginny. She’s a great friend. She helped me to get over Hermione at least,” he said.

This came as a shock to Harry. “You liked Hermione?” he said incredulously.

Neville rubbed the back of his head, “Well, yeah. Don’t you remember I went with Ginny after Hermione turned me down?”

“Well, yes but I thought you just asked her because you needed a date. I didn’t realise you really liked her,” Harry replied.

“Of course I liked her. I thought it was really obvious too. Hermione’s kind and helpful. She never looked down on me like some of the others and she always helped me out if I didn’t understand something. And despite the fact that Ron didn’t notice she’s a girl, I always have. She’s really pretty too. Sure maybe not in the way Cho and Lavender is where they have all the guys falling all over them but Hermione is her own kind of beautiful. Even Krum noticed it. And that was before she attended the ball and blew everyone’s minds. I can’t lie that day I was really jealous he asked her before I gathered the courage to.”

Harry didn’t know why his stomach was suddenly squirming.

“And I know you think she is as well,” Neville said to him.

“You know I think she’s what?” Harry said, having lost himself in his mind for a minute.

“Pretty. I mean you said it yourself that you wouldn’t lie to Cho to say Hermione’s ugly when you don’t think so,” Neville said, “Hermione told you that you should have said she was ugly because she knew that Cho was jealous. But I think you wouldn’t have ever insulted Hermione just to get Cho, or any other girl for that matter, to like you. Right?”

Harry felt his mouth go dry as his mind tried to come up with ways to reject the statement. Except...he couldn’t. He truly wouldn’t put down his best friend just to impress anyone. Besides, he really didn’t think Hermione was ugly. But, he’d never labelled what he thought of her either. And now that Neville said it...if he denied it he’d be lying wouldn’t he? Because the more he thought about it, the more he realised that Neville was right.

He had followed Neville up to bed then, but his dreams were full of bushy hair and clear, beautiful laughter.

*end flashback*

That’s what brought on Harry’s current dilemma. Since that night he’d been...noticing things. Things like how Hermione’s hand felt when her fingers brushed his as she took his charms essay from him to check it over. How her hair smelled when it accidentally got in his face as she squeezed past him to get to another bookshelf in the library. How her laugh made her eyes light up when the twins played a prank on the Inquisitorial Squad. He noticed how she bit her lip when she was concentrating really hard and how she’d screw up her nose when she disapproved of something. He found himself staring a little too long and being unable to concentrate well in her presence. More than once she almost caught him and he would panic or flinch away, hastily looking in the other direction.

He attempted to be casual and nonchalant, but unbeknownst to him he was failing quite spectacularly. Hermione picked up on his strange behaviour right away but simply attributed it to him being angry with her. Today however, she was absorbed in her dessert and her own thoughts. She didn’t notice Harry staring at the way she chewed the tart. She also didn’t notice how little attention he was paying to his own. His eyes were trained on her; he gulped as she savoured her treacle with a contented little noise of enjoyment. His own tart was merely stuck halfway on the way to his mouth, as his focus was on hers. He hadn’t expected her to break out of her dessert stupor to talk about homework.

So when Hermione looked up at him he panicked. He didn’t want to be caught staring after all; she’d have questions he wasn’t sure he was ready to answer. And Harry was a terrible liar, especially when it came to lying to Hermione, who could spot lies from a mile away. Needless to say brown eyes met green, and Harry’s treacle tart met Malfoy’s face.

ixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixixxiixxiixixxi

Reviews help Harry come to terms with his feelings.

A/N: This story is a sort of continuation of my other story Harry’s Woeful Week, but because his date with Cho is canon you should be able to understand it without having read that.

[angelholme]

“IT” and the problems of today’s society

 This is kind of a speculative post, because I haven’t exactly given it all that much thought. But from reading various posts on line, I am starting to see a pattern.

Obviously, this contains a fair amount of spoilers for the book, for the 1990 Mini Series and for the 2017 film.

Apparently the 2017 Movie of “IT” is a big hit. It is receiving rave reviews right across the board, and I am finding it hard to find someone with a bad word to say about it. 

Except for me, obviously. I have plenty of bad words to say about it. And while most of them centre around the fact the adaptation from the book, quite a lot of them centre around the treatment of Beverly Marsh. 

In the book, Beverly is a character who is dominated by her father, but finds herself when she starts hanging around with her friends. She finds a strength all her own - a strength that lets her stand up to her father when he attempts to molest her towards the end of the book.

It is never made entirely clear if the Alvin Marsh that tries to molest/rape (and probably kill) his daughter is just an extension of the usual crappy version of Beverly’s father, or whether IT has some direct hand in manipulating him. But either way, Beverly stands up to him, hits him and escapes. 

Then she goes and joins her friends to beat the crap out of IT and put an (albeit temporary) end to the killing in Derry in 1957. 

Beverly then grows up, and forgets. She forgets her friends, forgets what she did and - most importantly - she apparently forgets what she has learned and who she has become. Because she marries a man who is exactly like her father. Domineering, abusive, controlling and - quite frankly - a fraction of a human being who is an utter shit. 

Tom Rogan controls every aspect of her life, and it is not until Mike Hanlon gets in touch with her again that she remembers who she is, and her promise. And when she remembers, she immediately gets the strength to fight back - she stands up to Tom and beats him up, then leaves him to return to Derry. 

And although it is easy to think it is her desire to get back to Derry to fulfil the promise she made, I am more of the belief it is the memory of her friends, and the strength they gave her, that gives her the will to stand up to Tom.

-xx-

The 1990 Miniseries reflects all this as well - when her father rips up the postcard containing Ben’s poem, Beverly gets really annoyed and runs off. She stands by her friends, even swearing to stay with them when Officer Nell asks her to. And she stands up to her father when he tries to attack her. 

Then in the future part, she is clearly cowed and scared of Tom, yet the moment she receives the call from Mike she starts packing, and when Tom tries to stop her she attacks him and threatens to kill him, leaving him bleeding on the floor. 

And when she returns to Derry, she initially has some qualms about fighting, but - unlike Richie - doesn’t hesitate once she has made her mind up.

The Miniseries shows her as a strong, committed woman who is ready to fight and ready to stand up with her friends. 

And yet everyone pans the Miniseries. They claim it is because of the spider at the end (which was not entirely convincing, I admit) but that is about five, maybe ten minutes of a three HOUR Miniseries. If you claim you dislike the entire Miniseries just because of the spider, you either have very, very low standards, or you are lying.

Because, spider aside, the rest of the Miniseries is actually a) very faithful to the book and b) actually very well done. Tim Curry is superb, the child actors are surprisingly good and the adults actors are just as impressive. 

It covers all the major themes of the book, it misses out some of the more obscure scenes (Adrian Mellon’s death is replaced by a little girl being killed, Eddie Cochran is missing, Patrick Hocksetter is missing and so on) and the sex in the sewer scene is missing (but that was never going to be in it in the first place - lets be realistic here!). 

And the final battle is actually relatively faithful as well - the book describes The Losers kicking the spider to death, and that’s what they do in the film. 

So - one piece of crappy special affects aside - the Miniseries is a relatively faithful adaptation.

Which begs the question why don’t people like it? 

Well - I will cover the 2017 film, and then maybe come to the answer.

-xx-

I’ve already covered a lot of the problems of the 2017 movie, so I will just deal with the one that relates to this post. Beverly Marsh.

While she does a few “heroic” things, they are things that the boys also do. And ALL of those things are entirely undone when - after fighting off her father (who - like in the book, and the 1990 Miniseries - attempts to molest/rape/kill her) single hanedly - she is kidnapped by IT and held hostage. 

Bill comes to find her, then rallies the other boys to go and rescue her. Because apparently girls need rescuing. Even Beverly (who we are supposed to accept is a badass warrior woman). And he makes it clear - they are going to rescue Beverly. It wasn’t about killing IT at that point, their posse was about saving the girl. 

So the six boys head off to rescue one girl, and when they get there, they save the girl by giving her true love’s kiss. The way Disney Princesses used to be woken up back in the 30s, 40s and 50s - before the sexual revolution taught women that they were able to save themselves and didn’t need a man to help them. 

She then went on to help them beat the crap out of IT, but only after she had been saved by the six boys who came to rescue her. 

And right at the end, she is turned into an object of romance by Bill, instead of just finishing off as a friend of the six boys. She is no longer one of the boys - one amongst equals - but as “Bill’s girlfriend”.

-xx-

So where am I going with all this? 

Well - the 2017 movie is apparently well loved. And it is about a girl who needs rescuing by six big, strong boys. Sure, it is about other things as well, but I have yet to see anyone comment on the film talk about the fact Beverly gets kidnapped and rescued by six boys. They say she is a strong character, and she does a lot of heroic things, but they don’t mention this clearly sexist twist to the plot. 

It’s almost as if they don’t see it as sexist - as if they don’t think it is worth commenting on. As if it is a perfectly natural plot development. That a female character that is painted as strong, independent and heroic being kidnapped, rescued by six boys and woken from an eternal sleep by true love’s kiss is just a natural plot development. 

Meanwhile The 1990 Miniseries treats Beverly as a heroic character all the way through. In her childhood and in her adulthood. She stays with the boys, fights with the boys and wins with the boys. 

And almost no one seems to respect The Miniseries. Or at least, everyone I have seen comment thinks it compares very badly to the new movie - they rate the 2017 movie FAR higher. 

Is it possible that people like the 2017 movie because it is all about the boys? Or at least because it is more about the boys than about Beverly? That because Beverly is relegated to the damsel in distress and a girlfriend? 

Do people like the 2017 movie because it makes them feel more comfortable in their lives?