#maybe someone else will spot a random book in these lists

[roseunspindle]

Books by “B” Authors I own and Need to Read Part 2

[kakujis]

stay with me?;

a/n: a little continuation of this post. i love kakucho too much to not give him what he wants c’mon now. 😭 but why is it so sexy for (fictional)men to restrain themselves until they just can’t anymore n they jus go buck wild?? anyways, i put my entire p*ssy into this i hope u guys enjoy! like genuinely i lost my mind writing this jjdjdjd

ft: bonten!kakucho x afab!reader

wc: 4.1k, not proofread xd

warnings: dark content. afab fem!reader, sub!reader, somno, f!oral receiving, overstim, dacryphilia, praise, pet names, slight orgasm control, unprotected, creamp*e(i hate this word), multiple rounds, dubcon, jealousy, stalking, obsession, honestly the more i wrote this it became a bit of yan!kakucho lol. gets a little soft at the end. very self indulgent 💜

showering with your door unlocked wasn’t the dumbest thing you could do. okay, maybe it was…but you trusted kakucho to watch and take care of any danger while he was there.

fresh out of the shower, you finished putting lotion onto your skin, the cool cream sinking into the warmth of your skin. switching off your bathroom light as you leave, you glance at your bedroom door.

maybe.. you should say goodnight to him, he is going to be up all night. you walk over, goosebumps blooming as you rubbed your arms for warmth. why was it always so cold out of the shower?

you open your door and peek into the dimly lit living room. kakucho was there, sitting on your couch and reading a book. dressed in all black, he rested one leg up on his knee and under the light of lamp you thought he looked handsome, his black hair dangling in front of his face as he read some random book plucked off the shelf.

“kakucho..” you started, voice barely louder than a whisper. he glanced up immediately, concern etching his features and two tone eyes meeting yours. you gave a small smile, “good night and thanks for... all this,” you say, gesturing to his spot.

he blinks, before nodding, “no problem. boss’s orders anyway,” he smiles back at you, before waving you off. “go get some rest.”

you nod before slipping back into your room, closing the door behind you. you hesitate on the lock slightly before you forgo locking it, trusting in kakucho completely. he was different from the rest of bonten. his voice was gentle alongside his touches. he was sweet to you and you to him. he was the one you went to when you were upset or scared. in another life, under different circumstances, maybe you would’ve dated.

but you remember what he actually does every time he stumbles into your office, hands bloodied and eyes frenzied. you always patch him up, watching the rise and fall of his chest reminding you that he was alive and someone else wasn’t. it strikes fear into you every time, that someone so gentle and so sweet could still snuff the light out from someone else.

you wonder what he looks like in those moments. does he look as lost when he’s sitting on your desk, eyes far off and unfocused as you disinfect and bandage his wounds? or is his resolve unwavering, eyes locked as he stares down his target and pulls the trigger?

you shake your head, nows not the time to think about that. now is time for sleep, you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow. mikey’s list of tasks seemed to never end and you groaned thinking about the new stack of paper work that would grace your desk tomorrow morning.

you flopped into your bed, sinking down into your comforter and pillows. curling up under your blanket, you checked your phone one more time to see if you had any missing messages. you had just said goodnight to him, but seeing his name in your list of messages had you wanting to say it again.

y/n: kaku, i’m gonna sleep now. feel free to use whatever, whenever! sorry you have to stay up for me.

you waited a few moments, seeing if he’d respond. and he did, an immediate “read” underneath your message followed by his own:

kakucho: what’d i say earlier? don’t worry about it. you’re special to us.

y/n: you’re all special to me too. <3 goodnight.

kakucho: goodnight, y/n.

with that you closed your phone, placing it onto your nightstand before turning over. almost instantly, exhaustion took hold and you fell into a deep slumber.

-

the instant mikey mentioned that you could be in trouble, kakucho offered himself up. due to the increasing gang-conflict, you were assigned more body guards to escort you to and from home. not only that, but you had guards keeping watch outside your office day in and out.

as kakucho said, you were special to bonten. a shining, pearly light in the bleakness of bonten’s all consuming night. each executive held a place for you in their heart and each one had dreams of making you theirs, but kakucho.. bordered on obsession.

it started off innocent like holding the door open for you or grabbing an extra coffee on his way to work. if you were going to be a long time addition, he might as well get to know you. eventually, he started to relax in your company. he’d always visit your office at least once a day and you welcomed him, listening to his woes while venting some of your own. you were a breath of fresh air, the sweet scent of flowers, and being around you felt like a dream.. but then he started getting jealous.

jealous of the way you’d lightly tap on ran’s arm, giggling when he made a joke. jealous when you’d dance in rindou’s office, body swaying and humming to his music. jealous when he’d catch you sobering up sanzu, your body dangerously close to his as you pressed a water cup to his lips.

jealous of the way you’d always tell kokonoi how pretty his hair was and what he thought about your own. jealous when you’d light up takeomi’s cigarette for him without him even having to ask. jealous when you’d rub mochi’s shoulders after a long day, calling in someone to bring him a glass of wine. jealous of how every morning started with mikey and ended with mikey, as you were his secretary.

kakucho hitto was so fucking jealous of every single little thing you would do with anyone who wasn’t him. that’s when he started taking your things, little trinkets to keep you close, praying you’d keep your balcony door open every evening so he wouldn’t have to feel bad for breaking in. when he first followed you home, he didn’t even realize it. for some reason, you loved to take public transport home, as if you didn’t work for the most notorious gang in Japan. he was entranced by the way you moved, seemingly without a care in the world.

he caught himself when you turned back, the weight of his stare boring into you. he hid quickly, crouching behind a parked car. you shrugged it off and continued on, eventually making it to your small apartment home situated on the second story. he pondered over going back to his own place. he made it here, but what now? he couldn’t just knock on the door.

but then he heard something, the sound of a sliding door being opened. you stretched and sighed into the evening air, before heading back in. he came closer, until he decided to climb up onto your balcony. he dropped down, hiding behind your curtains. he peeked in, breath hitching as you started taking your clothes off before entering your room.

at the sound of running water and your bathroom door softly closing, he fully made his way in. he thought your apartment was cute, simple and small. the others probably would’ve had a fit knowing you lived so quaintly instead of bathing in luxury. but kakucho liked it anyway, running his hands along your walls and furniture, taking in deep lungfuls of your burning candle’s scent. god he wanted to make you his wife.

his pretty little housewife who would greet him home after a long day at work. his angel who would sit in his lap, pressing kisses to his forehead, murmuring, “let me take care of you, honey.” he yearned for it, his pretty baby fucked dumb on his bed every night.

when he first peered into your bedroom, he held back a groan as he saw your panties thrown onto the floor. your skirt was left haphazardly on your desk chair. while the rest of your clothes left a trail into the bathroom.

he felt guilty, you had no idea he was here. technically he was breaking in, but you had left everything so open. as if you were inviting him in just like you did with your office.

that night he stole his first pair of panties, shoving them into his pocket as he slipped out the way he came. heart pounding he walked away with his prize, albeit small in the grand scheme of things, but he couldn’t stop smiling, twirling the fabric in between his fingers. he came hard and fast that night inhaling your scent, he was addicted. he wanted more, your voice, your touch, your everything.

he started becoming a little more risky, first touching himself in your bedroom to opening your bathroom door slightly just to hear your singing as he jacked off into a used pair. it was never enough, he wanted, no, needed you underneath him squirming and writhing as he filled you up multiple times a night. he was getting restless and sooner or later he would finally get what he wanted: you.

that’s how he ended up here, the first one to watch over and protect you. his phone buzzed and he closed his book, reaching over to see who was texting him. he frowned when he realized it was the bonten group chat. what could they possibly want? he thought, opening up his messages.

mikey: we didn’t have time for a meeting today but who’s watching y/n tomorrow? kakucho can’t do it two nights in a row.

he tsk’d. he’d do this for the rest of his life if he had too, no questions asked.

kakucho: i don’t mind doing it tomorrow too.

mikey: no. you need rest, won’t be as reliable if you’re tired.

he bit his lip, tapping impatiently on his phone.

kakucho: i could just rest during the day.

mikey: i said no. it’s not an option. i don’t want anyone doing two nights in a row.

ran: i could probs do it or rin?

fuck. he grimaced, thinking about how ran wouldn’t hesitate to flirt with you. he remembers the day that he caught you letting ran sleep in your lap, your fingers running through his hair. not to mention, rindou, who already has you dancing in his office, you’d probably dance with him here too. at least, he thinks, it’s not sanzu. between the two brothers though, he’d probably hope for rindou.

mikey: sure, idc as long as someone does it.

rindou: i think i’m busy tomorrow night? have some stuff to clean up, it’s gonna have to be u ran

ran: alright lol

fuck. kakucho rubs his face, bouncing his leg as he sets his phone down. he paces the room, carefully trying to not wake you up. but the idea of ran flirting with you and you laughing, crinkling your nose, like you always do has him up the walls. would you playfully hit his arm like usual? would you let him touch you, hands trailing down your back? would you let him kiss you? god forbid, would you let him fuck you?

he runs a hand through his hair, his rage starting to consume him. there was one stream-line thought, hammering itself and taking hold of his brain: he has to be your first. he eyes the closed bedroom door. he’s done this before, he thinks, kicking off his shoes. just never while you’re actually in your bedroom. he takes a deep breath, before lightly placing his hand on the knob. slowly, he turns it, opening and entering into your room.

moonlight spills across your bed, illuminating your face in the dark. you snore softly, the exhaustion not only physical, but mental, wearing on you. the danger of having your brains blown out at any given moment loomed over you every day, suffocating every waking moment. you were on edge, always, and rightfully so. that’s why you felt safe with kakucho, utterly and completely safe. but that’s because you had never noticed the hurt in his eyes when you’d turn away from him. or the way his jaw tensed when you’d get “too close” to other executives. not once did you see the longing stares from across the room during meetings, too focused on writing down as many notes as you could hanging onto every word.

so you slept, peaceful and content, completely unaware that your protector was longing to keep you pinned underneath him as he had his way with you. if only you knew the things that he would do to you. slowly, he crept towards your dozing figure. your bed dipped as he came closer, a gloved hand pulling down your blanket. you twitched and he paused, watching as you made a little noise in response to the sudden cold shift.

his heart was pounding as he left light touches, ghosting over your exposed skin. he hooks a finger under your waistband, inching down your pajama shorts. he removes one glove, his hands burning with desire to truly feel you before he uses one finger to trail down the length of your clothed cunt.

you stir once more and he pauses again. is he really doing this? there’s no way you wouldn’t wake and yet he can’t find it in him to care. so he continues, gently carressing your core, every so often glasting over your thighs. little moans and mewls came from you and kakucho could feel his patience thinning. he wanted to take his time, explore every inch of you, but if just those small touches could get you writhing underneath him what would happen if he did more?

removing his other glove and casting it onto the floor, he starts to remove your panties. he throws them near his gloves, a reminder to take them for later. settling himself in between your thighs, he presses a kiss to your pussy. his breath is hot as he licks a stripe from your hole to clit. hooking his arms around your thighs, he holds you in place as you start to squirm in your sleep. he spreads your folds, admiring your pretty pussy before he dives back in, eagerly licking at your clit.

he watches you through half lidded eyes as your features contort, your mouth a small “o”. he switches between sucking on your clit like it’s candy and burying his tongue deep inside curling up against your walls. you eyelids flutter as you wake, drool dribbling down your chin.

“wha- ah!” you gasp, roused from sleep with hands shooting down and tugging onto his dark locks. he groans, brows knitting as he continues fucking you on his tongue.

your vision is blurry, only the moonlight that seeps in through the window illuminating your view. but you see him, eyes lidded, looking up at you in nigh worship, as he licks and kisses and slurps at your arousal.

“k-kakucho?” you stutter out, “fuck, what are you-“ you’re interrupted again, as he slips a finger, then two into your dripping cunt.

“cum for me, pretty girl.” he murmurs against you, his fingers brushing against parts of you that set your legs trembling. you try to resist at first, confusion tumbling through your brain, but with one more curl of his fingers you release, eyes rolled back, toes curling and body shaking. kakucho keeps his mouth on you, lost in the taste of your fluids until he feels you pushing on his shoulders.

“t-too much, kaku, s-stop,” you pant, tears pricking at your eyes. he pulls away, reluctantly, a sticky line of spit and cum trailing from your pussy to his lips follow him as he inches forward, suddenly crashing his lips into yours.

you taste yourself on his lips, melting into the kiss. he kisses you deep, before pulling away and peppering kisses onto your jawline and neck. it’s messy, wet, and you’re still dazed from your post orgasm high. it’s odd to think about how you were peacefully sleeping not too long ago and maybe this is still a dream? it certainly feels like it, your head light and fuzzy as kakucho kisses every inch of your face.

it’s not until you feel something blunt and hard rubbing in between your folds that you snap out of your dream-like state. he’s undressed himself now, his clothes mixing with yours as if he really did live there. as if you two really did belong to one another. glancing down, you see his cock, hard and angry, pre-cum glistening on his tip.

he lines himself up with your hole and you start with a “wait-“, but he doesn’t listen, slowly sinking into your cunt. you moan at the stretch, gripping the sheets underneath you. “kakucho, i told you-“

“i can’t fuckin’ wait! okay?” he snaps and you flinch, diverting your eyes from him. he grips your chin, digging into your skin and forcing you to look back at him. desperation fills not only his eyes but his voice, “do you know how long i’ve wanted this?”

he continues rambling as he pushes into you, “do you know how fucking hard it was to watch you every day knowing that you weren’t coming home to me? every fucking day where you’d turn away from me to look at someone else? to be with someone else?”

it’s the way he words it as if you really were seeing someone else, completely aware of his feelings for you or maybe it’s the vitriol laced in each word that sends a creeping blush up on your face. he sounded so mean, completely different from the tender tone you had known. honestly, you kind of liked it.

you claw at his arms, back arching off the bed as he sinks deeper. “you’re fucking mine,” he says through grit teeth as he bottoms out. “all fucking mine.” he presses his forehead to you, hips flush against yours. “fuck, baby, you feel so good.”

he pulls himself until he’s almost completely out and you whine at the loss. he mumbles, “i’ll give you what you want, pretty girl.” right before he slams himself back in.

you gasp as he starts fucking you, his pace brutal and unforgiving, you were his and he was going to make sure you knew that. pushing your knees up to your chest your eyes roll back again because he’s just so deep. the drag of your walls around his leaking cock is euphoric. he drinks in all of your mewls and moans as he continues to hit that sweet spot inside you, love drunk on the sound of your voice.

“‘m close,” you rasp, looking up at him through glassy eyes. “p-please kaku, can i?”

“can you what baby? be specific.” he tuts, but his head is spinning and his heart is swelling.

“kaku, please, i wanna cum,” you babble, tongue lolling out of you slightly. he slows down to a full stop and you desperately try to grind back against him. “please! please, i want it!” you cry, tears starting to freely fall down your pretty face.

“yeah honey? you wanna cum on my cock?” he coos and you nod vigorously, “then tell me who you belong to, who gets to fuck you like this?”

“you! i belong to you, kaku, only you,” you sniffle up at him and he smiles, finally starting to move again. you wrap your arms around him as he angles himself so he can hit that spot that has you seeing stars with each thrust.

snaking a hand down to play with your clit, you sob out, as he rubs sticky circles. you’re so close the added stimulation has you clenching and dripping around him. “let go, princess.” he says, and you do, falling apart on him. legs kicking wildly, your pussy squeezes down on him and he follows you soon after, thick, hot seed spilling deep into your cunt.

he pushes himself up, leaning back and gently pulling out. wincing at the loss, you turn onto your side, curling up on yourself, too exhausted to care about the amount of cum not only leaking out of you but splashed onto your bed and thighs. your hair sticks to your sweaty forehead, you feel full and utterly spent.

you close your eyes, trying to calm your breathing as your body continues to twitch from post orgasm, little hiccups escaping your mouth here and there. the calm doesn’t last long and soon you feel a hand on your hip, flipping you onto your stomach. you wail, gripping the sheets, as you feel kakucho pull you back to slip into you, again.

“i wasn’t done with you,” he growls, leaning down to press his chest against your back. you can’t really talk much at this point, brain mushy and fuzzy, so you whimper out a small “mm.”

he wraps his arm around your neck, keeping you in a near chokehold as he pistons into you. the squelch of fluids and the slapping of skin fills the room once more. something about the way he fucks you is different now, his thrusts are sloppy, needy and his moans tickle your ear.

“i love you,” he chants, “i really fucking love you.” you don’t know what to say, pleasure taking over you again, so you ignore the little voice in the back of your head screaming to say it back and moan into his arm.

he moves his free hand down to hook behind your knee, sliding it up to spread your legs further. you try to keel up into him, one hand grabbing at arm curled around your neck, but he has you caged. you’re almost entirely sure you’re drooling over his arm. with your head tilted towards him, you glance up with glassy eyes, mouth open and panting.

you think he looks pretty like this, looking down at you, brows knit. you’re not sure if you love him, but you do love the way his dick slides in and out of your tight hole. “f-feels good,” you slur, “feels so, ah!, good,” you can feel your orgasm blooming again, heat bubbling in your gut.

“gonna cream on my cock again?” he grunts, thinking how after this there’s no way you wouldn’t be his wife… right?

“yeah, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl and kakucho’s thrusting his tongue into your mouth. the added stimulation is enough and you’re both unravelling. your eyes cross with the intensity of your orgasm, as your entire body shakes. he can feel you squeezing down and milking his cock as you moan into each other.

your head lolls onto the bed as kakucho’s grip loosens. he buries his face into your neck and you stay like this for a bit, heavy breaths and sticky bodies. he gently pulls out as he rolls over, one arm draped over his forehead.

you’re not sure you would look down even if you had the strength, your body limp. but you can feel it, you can feel his cum seeping out of your cunt. your bed is probably a mess.

you prop yourself up onto your elbows as best you can, “that… was the last time… for tonight, okay?” you pout. you'd probably actually pass out if he wanted to go again.

he moves his arm off, sitting up immediately. his look is incredulous, maybe even hopeful, “for tonigh-“

“or ever!” you interrupt, reaching for him and wincing. “oh, ow.” your entire body is aching so you opt for curling in on yourself again.

“… sorry,” he says sheepishly, one hand on his neck, “i didn’t mean to-“

“you don’t have to lie, i know you did.” you mumble, peeking up at him.

shame crashes over him and he gets up to get dressed, trying to not look at you. i fucked up, he thinks, until you grab his wrist and he looks down at you, a blush tinting his features. funny, as if he didn’t almost just fuck the life out of you.

you spread your arms, a blush on your face as well, “stay with me?” except it sounds more like a command than a question. and he does, getting back onto the bed and melting into your embrace.

he moves and positions you so that you’re resting with your head against his chest. he trails your lower back with his hand absently, making small shapes across your skin. it’s quiet, cozy, and there’s so many things you want to ask before you drift off into sleep, but he speaks first.

“could you do me a favor?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your head. you can’t see it, but there’s a smile gracing his face. you're warm and everything he wants.

“mm, sure?” you reply, sleepiness starting to overtake you.

“tell mikey you wanna stay at my place tomorrow.”

[anystalker707]

triplicated [1/2]

Pairing: Zoro x [gn, amab] Reader x Law Kinktober prompt: Monster fucking + Hierophilia + 3some Tags: AU / Demon Zoro / Priest Law / man has 3 cocks and manages to bottom / not proofread ! PART TWO

KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST

          “Do you know how to deal with those?” You sighed, playing with one of the little crosses that hung from the chain attached to your belt loops. They were pure silver, like the ones that hung from your neck and from Law’s, like the rings you used. It was never too much.

Law raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you, sighing. “I’m sure it won’t be the worst we’ve gone through.”

Silence filled in for a moment as you two walked. Only the sound of the dry leaves and sticks crushed under your feet filled the ambient, with the sporadic call of a bird or another. It was always places like that. Random houses or mansions—even abandoned churches—had terrible cases regarding demonic presence, needing you and Law to check. The priest and deacon of the local church in a small, gloomy town that had more cases of supernatural occurrences than it should. How fortunate. If the silver at least meant wealth instead of protection, you’d be happier to receive it.

“It’s been a while since the last demon case, though,” you said, spotting the old mansion in the distance, between the trees. The last missions mostly involved ghosts or basic exorcisms. “And you know what happened.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Law shrugged, adjusting his grip on the suitcase, while his free hand held his coat closed through a gush of wind that sent leaves flying. “There was no death.”

For a moment, you considered it, but it was still uncertain. “Maybe,” you muttered with a sigh.

          It was a simple house of a wealthy person, an average thing. Since the owner had left it recently so that you and Law could save the problem, there wasn’t any dust over the furniture. There was a presence in the house, of course, making a shiver run down your spine the moment you stepped in.

The soft clicking of Law’s suitcase being open resonated through the dining room before he threw the lid open, letting it hit the wooden table with a muffled noise. He removed the stuff he needed from it.

“Strong presence,” you said with a soft sigh, scratching the back of your neck as you looked around the room.

With the lack of response as Law went through his stuff, you just started walking around the dining room, inspecting the expensive and delicate dining sets exposed behind glass by the back. You narrowed your eyes, observing the intricate details, but… a small movement made you notice there was a figure reflected in the glass, opposite Law’s side. When you looked back, there was no one in the room aside from you, and the reflex was also gone.

“Yeah,” you muttered, walking out of the room and into the living room, checking the corners, shadows, and reflexes. Maybe it was going to manifest somewhere else or guide you somewhere.

Something moved down the hall, so you walked down to it, seeing one single door was open. It led to what seemed to be an office. Shelves of books were lined along opposing walls, and a wide desk with a big armchair sat by the back. It was wide. Some frames hung behind the desk, and you approached to check the images on them when something moved from the corner of your eye.

“We got comp— Ghh!”

A strong grip around your neck made the words die in your throat as you gasped for air, feeling someone right behind you. Their warm torso pressed to your back, breath suddenly fanning over your neck; you shuddered.

Despite needing a moment to recollect, you brought a leg up and kicked behind you as strongly as possible. The demon probably didn’t see the silver shoe clips coming.

Your neck was sore when you turned around to take a good look at him, holding the skin in an attempt to ease the pain, and it would be no surprise if the demon’s sharp nails had pierced through your skin.

The demon was confusing. There was a main figure, but also two others, though they weren’t solid like the middle one. All of them shared the same body from the waist down, and the same appearance from the waist up—the same protruding teeth, chest scar, earrings, and shiny green eyes that glared at you, though each figure had a scarred eye. Strong presence. The white kimono was lowered, only leaving his bottom covered, and there was a small tattoo along the middle figure’s collarbone, in old symbols. Zoro. Fuck, you swore you’d read that name before in those demonology books. Class unknown.

You were about to reach into your pocket when there was a hand around your wrist, followed by a couple on your waist, one around your other wrist, one on your shoulder, and the last tilting your head up to meet his eyes. Something about his—their?—gaze made a shiver run down your spine, stirring some warmth in your lower stomach. It was mesmerizing.

Your throat went dry. Fuck, you could’ve at least put on the silver bracelets today. Nothing would be too much against an enemy like that. Where was Law, even? Well, it didn’t matter now. There was a metallic smell on the demon’s breath as he leaned in, filling your lungs as the hands around your waist tightened to pull you closer, but it failed. You slowly let his hand guide yours but changed the trajectory so that you’d at least reach your chest.

Zoro cut through your clothes with his sharp nails instead of having you closer, and sank them into your skin the moment the silver cross touched his forearm. Along with the sound of a triplicated groan, a soft hissing sound came from the skin as the silver burned into it, leaving behind a cross-shaped burn when he finally stepped away, but you didn’t give him time to react.

Your chain with the cross pendants was yanked from your pants and wrapped around Zoro’s neck—the main one, it is—, keeping him a safe distance away from you by an elbow pressed to his chest. The silver in it wasn’t pure, so it didn’t do a lot of direct damage. Either way, it kept him at ease. Controlling the main one kept the other two under control, it seemed.

Soft huffs came from Zoro as he swallowed tightly against the chains, feeling them burn into his skin more with the motion of his throat. His breath was heavier, the main one having his eye closed, but the other two looked at you in anticipation.

“How’s that feel? Not so good, huh?” You clicked your tongue, still feeling the ache around your neck when you swallowed, though your breath hitched a little. Only now that you were cooling down that the pain in your torso was starting to manifest; it sharpened when you exhaled too fast while trying to catch your breath. You tightened the chain around his neck, and… he moaned?

Zoro’s hands shakily wrapped around your wrists again, loosely holding them as he whimpered, keeping his eyes pressed shut.

“Goddammit,” you whispered. Was he a succubus? An oni? Calamity? Sin? It’d help a lot if you knew what you were fighting against.

Your grip loosened on his neck, though you kept the chain there, ready to tighten it again in case he tried anything. With a deep breath, Zoro opened his eye again and looked at you with that same gaze from earlier; what was up with it? Fuck. His fingers took your chin again to keep your gaze on him, and then his breath was fanning on your neck—one of the two extra copies had his face right next to yours. When did you get so close to him? Why did it feel so… so hot…?

Two hands were under your shirt, pressed flat to the skin. His nails scratched a little, but they didn’t hurt this time; it actually felt good, sending a shiver down your spine. The way his hands pressed to your chest even snatched a quiet sound from your lips, which seemed to encourage him to keep going, pulling you closer by pressing his hands flat to your back. Were you supposed to feel like that? It was hard thinking about anything other than him, the way he pressed closer, one of the three faces pressing to your neck.

As the chain tightened around his neck for a few seconds, Zoro let out another moan, confirming your assumptions. Maybe, this would be good.

Zoro’s nail pressed lightly to your skin, right in the middle of your chest—the pain it caused on the way down sent sparkles down your body, and you couldn’t help how your hips twitched when his nails reached the hem of your pants. You gulped, keeping your hands in place, but his hands were everywhere. He just palmed you through your pants straight away, with a big and warm hand that squeezed the growing bulge.

          Law hadn’t gotten lost in the mansion this time, but he presumed you did. He simply hated when you did that, just disappearing when he blinked, and either getting in problems or leaving him to deal with everything all alone. Goddammit. He tightened his hand around the handle of the silver bayonet as he carefully walked down the mansion.

Living room: empty. Halls, bathroom, bedrooms, reading room, kitchen: also empty. Law pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing you, but he paused when he heard something. It was a faint sound, which would’ve easily gone unheard if he hadn’t paused and held his breath. Was that a groan? A cry? He cursed under his breath as he walked down the hall, to the last room. So that’s where the sounds were coming from.

“…that much, huh? I’ve just put it in. Shameless,” your voice reached Law’s ears followed by a chuckle as he opened the door, and he paused, widening his eyes at the sight.

There was a big demon over the desk—he laid back on it. The main version had his hands down the desk, sharp nails sinking in it; the second one seemed propped up on an elbow, off to the side, and the last was covering its face. You were there, holding the thick legs up by their thighs while standing between them, with your pants halfway down your thighs. Aside from all that, Law couldn’t help but notice the thick smell that filled the room.

A chuckle escaped your lips as you squeezed your hands, watching another triplicated moan come from the demon. “Tight,” you whispered with a groan, moving your hips shallowly, but still enough to make the demon gasp.

The creaking sound of a wooden tile made Law’s presence known, but you were the only one to notice that, looking at Law with a grin.

“‘Found him,” you said with a grin, which just intensified Law’s confusion. “Zoro. Pretty thing.” You looked at Zoro again and moved your hips, receiving a chorus of sighs that eventually turned into moans as you started trying to find a pace for your thrusts. It was a little messy at the beginning, your hips stuttering until you managed to start fucking him at a steady, slow pace.

One of the copies seemed especially sensitive, covering his face and squirming around more than the other two. Cute. You found it hard to focus on all of them, all the pleased expressions, even more so when his cock—well, cocks—kept stealing your attention.

Law didn’t know how to react when he saw the three cocks standing hard, flushed, and leaking a lot once he approached enough. Despite all of it, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, observing the triplicate chain of reactions of the demon as you kept fucking him.

“Mmph, tight,” you moaned with a gasp, moving your hips forward particularly sharply. “Such a good boy, so good for me…” The way Zoro clenched around your cock felt absurdly good. No human could compare to that. His ass clenched around your cock as if depended on it, wanting to take it in deeper, to have it keep pleasing him so deliciously. The praising had effects, of course; such strong, sharp nails were leaving back scratches on the wooden table.

Law stuttered. He didn’t know what to say or do, even if it wasn’t the worst nor weirdest situation he’d walked into—or participated in—, but he couldn’t drive his eyes away from the two of you. He observed the way your cock sank deep into Zoro, making Zoro’s thighs tremble and cocks twitch, leaking more. A shiver ran down Law’s spine, and his own cock throbbed inside his pants.

You bit your lip, letting go of one of Zoro’s thighs to press a hand to his chest. His leaked in your hand as you squished it, making you twitch inside Zoro. He clenched so tightly when you pinched his nipple, fuck…

“Law, don’t just stand there,” you said breathlessly, glancing at him. “Fuck his throat, I don’t know. He looks like he will like anything. He’s a good boy.” You grinned as you praised Zoro again, and he clenched around you almost immediately.

Okay. Law took a deep breath before he set his bayonet aside, letting it drop to the ground beside him, just in case. He stood by the other side of the desk, opposite to you, about to say something when you reached forward.

“Easy, baby,” you whispered as your hand wrapped around Zoro’s neck, and Law noticed your chain adorning the demon like a choker.

As you pushed Zoro’s head back, it hung from the edge of the table, looking at Law upside down. Law’s eyes were glued to him, watching the long tongue lick his lips and teeth before it opened. How could Law resist? He gulped. He was still opening his jeans when two of Zoro’s hands wrapped around his thighs to pull him closer; Law barely had space to do it, but he could lower his underwear.

Zoro’s tongue already found Law’s cock as soon as it was free—it licked along its length as Law slowly guided it into Zoro’s mouth, already snatching a few moans from the priest, even more with the soft vibrations from Zoro’s moans as you kept fucking him.

As Law’s eyes averted back to you, he noticed your gaze following his cock entering Zoro’s mouth, slowly. It made his cock twitch; he observed you for a moment longer before he looked down at Zoro again, making sure he could start moving his hips. He hissed softly at the feeling—the demon’s mouth was hot and wet around his cock, his tongue did such a fantastic job running along his veins, and the light friction of his teeth… Fuuuck. Law gasped, slowly starting to fuck Zoro’s mouth.

It was such a sight, honestly. You could see where Law’s cock was inside Zoro’s throat, and your cock twitched at that, thrusts growing sharper for a moment. Zoro hissed, one of his copies whimpering as he covered his face.

“My, my,” you whispered with a soft groan, letting go of both Zoro’s thighs this time. “I didn’t know such a powerful demon could behave so well, so— Nnghh, tight— Such a good boy,” you gasped, hips stuttering at the way Zoro clenched tightly around you. “Do you want my cock that badly? So needy,” you mumbled, holding on to his waist before your hands slowly slid down.

Your hips kept a steady, intense pace while your hands wrapped around Zoro’s cocks. You held only two of them at once, grazing their tips. He leaked so much that you’d easily believe he’d come already if you hadn’t been here all the time. You had a different idea, holding all three cocks with both your hands, making sure it was tight as you started jerking him off, feeling the cocks twitching in your hands. Hot. Deliciously hot.

It made Zoro go wild, holding Law tighter to encourage him to fuck the demon’s throat more, as one of the copies leaned back with a hand on his head, and the other rolled his eye back, with a hand over his mouth. All while he tightened more around you. Your thrusts were so sloppy already, Zoro was so tight.

“Fuck,” you gasped, managing to get the cross off around your neck. Only God knew what Zoro would do if he decided to show his real strength. The bottom edge of the silver cross ran along Zoro’s skin, burning it to leave behind a containment sigil. For some reason, Zoro liked that, with more moans coming from him as he clenched around you. It drew a louder, breathy moan from you as you returned your hand to his cocks, jerking him off along with your pace, and your gaze fell back to Law.

Law’s cock sank into the demon’s throat at a steady pace, making him moan as he pleased himself, with a hand pressed to Zoro’s chest. Your gaze averted to Zoro’s throat, and it didn’t take you a lot to fucking cum, gasping as you thrust deep inside Zoro, spreading your cum along his hot walls while you rode down your high. It felt so good, so draining, weakening your legs.

Your hands continued their motions, of course, and your attention drove down to Zoro’s cocks with the thought of what it’d be like when he came. Law turned into detail in the back of your mind while you focused on making Zoro cum, tightening your hands around him, and there it was.

Zoro came a lot, making a whole mess against himself as his three cocks came in spurts of sticky, hot cum. Meanwhile, he clenched around you so tightly—you hissed, squeezing his cocks a little more just in case.

Law also seemed to finish, taking a step back and adjusting his clothes, but the demon didn’t move. He and his copies just sat there, processing the session or maybe catching their breath. With a sigh, you shared a look with Law, also trying to catch your breath.

“I think I’ll keep this one,” you said as you held Zoro’s waist. “Just in case.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

PART TWO

[pantoneyoongi]

neon signs | let's talk about it

title ; let’s talk about it  pairing ; campus crush!yoongi x campus crush!you 

notes ; 

this is part of the neon signs drabble series, where drabbles are released in random order (but listed chronologically in the masterlist!) 

series description ;

namjoon doesn’t think it can get any clearer outside of yoongi building a giant neon sign saying i have the absolute biggest crush on you but apparently, book smarts don’t exactly translate when it comes to you and your massive crush on min yoongi.  (alternatively: namjoon and hoseok try for three years straight to get you and yoongi together.) 

word count ; 1k

tags ; yoongi gets a little violent (no hoseoks were harmed in this chapter), probably (definitely) excessive cursing, fluff, pls go to masterlist for more / general tags 

yoongi is not a violent man by any means. he’s rather patient, actually, and generally tolerant of a good many things. 

but he is going to kill hoseok. 

yoongi glares up at his ceiling, resisting the urge to scream. hoseok, you fucking - fuck. fucking fucker fuck. 

he’s so frustrated he’s run out of creative insults. 

yoongi thrashes around on his bed, rolling onto his stomach and slamming his face into his pillow. his roommate isn’t here today, so he can be as odd as he wants without earning questioning stares. 

with a huff, yoongi twists around to lay on his back again. why would hoseok leave him with this information and nothing else? did yoongi do something to piss off his best friend and now hoseok is being petty? how else is he supposed to explain why hoseok ever so casually passed on the information that someone flirted with you today and maybe asked you out, too? 

yoongi knows. yoongi knows even without hoseok adding fuel to the fire by shrugging his shoulders and saying, “well, she is popular around campus, yoongi. did you really think no one would ask her out eventually?” he knows. you’re everybody’s favorite and it was bound to happen eventually. it probably happens all the time, actually. but ignorance is bliss and now yoongi can’t stop thinking about what your response might’ve been because hoseok - the worst friend on the planet - pretended to knock the fuck out immediately after delivering this information. 

“hoseok,” yoongi had hissed. “hoseok, wake the fuck- i know you are not sleeping right now-”

hoseok even had the audacity to let his lips twitch in amusement, proving to yoongi he was awake. but if anybody asked hoseok, he’d swear up and down that it’s not his fault yoongi is so painfully obvious and simultaneously impressively stupid, and therefore the easiest target to tease. 

yoongi ���accidentally’ slammed the door on the way out (and then peeked back into the room just in case that ‘woke’ hoseok up) then shut the door again and grumbled the entire way back to his own dorm. 

and now here he is. laying in his own bed, devastated. 

he’s gonna murder hoseok. 

.

.

.

yoongi taps his foot against the ground repeatedly. for someone who can fall asleep at the drop of a hat, yoongi is unusually restless today, and namjoon eyes him suspiciously. yoongi’s arms are crossed, staring at a spot just past namjoon’s head, but when his eyes dart to namjoon for the third time since they sat down, namjoon straightens, expression flattening. 

“what do you wanna know, yoongi,” namjoon’s voice comes out more like a sigh, like he’s the most exhausted person on the planet. yoongi clears his throat. yoongi generally has the blank-eyed stare down pat, but his friends are quick studies and can tell the difference by now between when he’s actually not paying attention vs when he’s just pretending not to. 

considering yoongi’s spent the past ten minutes trying to find the most casual way to ask namjoon if his best friend is now taken, it’s safe to say yoongi’s brain definitely has the on switch flipped up. 

“nothing, i just-” 

“yoongs!” you slide into the seat next to him at the student center, then spot namjoon across from him. “joonie!” namjoon hums his response. 

there’s no way yoongi can ask now. not when you start off on a tangent before either of the boys have a chance to get a word in otherwise, complete with animated hand motions and dramatic narration that have you leaning in real close to yoongi (and namjoon, but yoongi cares more about his personal space being taken up by you and how he’d let you do this literally anytime you want) - and yoongi can only watch with helpless affection until you finish telling your story. 

“so that’s how my day is going,” you drawl, then twist to yoongi. “what are you up to?” 

he shrugs, because he really only came out here in an attempt to interrogate namjoon before you spotted them and inserted yourself into the conversation yoongi didn’t even manage to actually start. he hesitates, then as subtly as he can, tilts his head slightly and says, “i heard you have a boyfriend now?” 

your brows furrow. namjoon coughs into his drink, squinting at yoongi like he’s sprouted a second head. you frown down at the table, unaware of the silent exchange between namjoon and yoongi that goes something like: 

namjoon: this is a joke right yoongi: i’m so serious rn  namjoon: for someone so smart you are so dumb

both boys clear their expression when you raise your head and purse your lips at yoongi. “who did you hear that from?” 

yoongi fumbles. “just. someone,” he scratches the tip of his nose. “or maybe it was that someone asked you out?” 

you light up in recognition. “oh! yeah, that did happen. that was really weird.” 

yoongi can’t stop himself when he leans towards you in exasperated confusion. “weird?” it’s weird someone asked out the most popular girl on campus? 

but you don’t expand on it, instead opting to spend your time bothering namjoon, while yoongi wages an entire two minute war in his head because while you’d looked confused about it all, there was definitely no clear answer on whether or not you actually said yes to the weird person who asked you out. yoongi is going to lose it if he doesn’t get some goddamn answers. 

“so what’d you say?” he tries to go for casual, though the judgmental look on namjoon’s face right now suggests it’s anything but. it flies right over your head though, and you drop the pencil that you were using to doodle on namjoon’s papers to turn back to yoongi. 

“hm?” you fiddle with the pencil. “no, of course. i didn’t really know him like that. i wasn’t interested.” you laugh, and the sound fills yoongi with relief, and he lets out a quiet, half-amused huff in return. 

“no,” he repeats after you. “of course.” no, of course. 

.

.

.

“yoongi, let’s talk about it,” hoseok walks backwards with his hands up, as yoongi heads towards him. “come on, buddy. you know i’d tell you if she actually said yes-! dude!” 

series masterlist ; neon signs

taglist ; @thelilbutifulthings @bbsantc @chickentenderx @taegijns @princxssly82 @manuosorioh @sugaluvmyg @medicinemybish

[hellomisst]

Stone Blind by Natalie Haynes is such a missed opportunity that it is disappointing

I picked Stone Blind in the bookstore as a chill read, but I was expecting to be swept away like how Circe by Madeline Miller did. Stone Blind, according to the synopsis, is about Medusa and her story; it is a retelling, a reimagining. A "fresh" take. Well, for starters, it is not.

It is not difficult to please any reader like me. I never had a book completely disappoint me in all the years I've read. I'm 24 now, and I started reading books when I was like 10. All I want is for a book to entertain me enough to give my mind a leisurely ride while keeping it relaxed, to give me something new to think about and wonder for awhile, or to completely mind-blow me if it is really that good.

This book did nothing of any sort. There are a LOT of lapses in the story because it tried to do a lot of things at once, but it failed to neatly and cleanly pack it all up in the end. It seems that this book did not understand the Ancient Greek culture at all. Even the Greek gods did not seem to have any solid personality in this book. The characters all felt so shallow. Stone Blind is simply literally retelling what anyone with basic knowledge of the Greek mythology already knows, and put some dialogues there to fill in some blank spots.

Spoilers beyond this line.

Now, before we continue, let me tell you that I am not attempting to make an unbiased review of the book. I am writing this as someone who has immersed herself in Greek mythology as a kid, as someone who wanted a pleasant read while having her finals week in the university, as someone who simply wanted something new to think about, and as a woman who enjoys a good feminist retelling of a story of a woman in fiction who was demonized through out history.

Stone Blind promised a "fresh take" of Medusa, "the original monstered woman." As said, there was nothing fresh in the book's take. Nothing revitalized. Nothing reconstructed. The dialogues were mostly bland; the characters, barely there. It did not even feel like Medusa was the main character. It was basically a story of Athene at first, then Perseus. Many parts of the story were unnecessary to the point that you would forget something else happened because they were barely relevant halfway in the story and/ or in the end.

One good point I have for Stone Blind is that when someone is raped, the author really uses the word "rape". At first, I thought maybe this is the lack of creativity and/ or better words, but then I realized that she wants to say it as it is so that there would be no other interpretation, no misunderstanding, and no more debate as to what really happened. That is the only good point I have for this book.

But my main complaints? Let us enumerate them:

First, everyone—Panopeia (whoever that is in the story; the chapter was named Panopeia but it was not in the list of characters even when the olive grove and a random crow made it there), Athene, Hermes, and Gorgoneion (apparently Medusa's head but you would not know until Medusa gets beheaded and says it herself)—or shall I say, the author herself, kept forcing the readers to hate Perseus. Gorgoneion had chapters dedicated to shitting on Perseus: "You're probably feeling sorry for him now, aren't you? Poor little Perseus, the reluctant hero. Defender of his mother's honor. Boastful little fool..." Knowing that Gorgneion is Medusa's head might let us know that she hates Perseus because he killed Medusa, that is true. But the thing is, it is not only Medusa who keeps saying that Perseus is arrogant, whiney, incompetent, foolish, annoying, and more. Even Athene, as a narrator and a character, and Hermes said it. Basically anyone who has interacted with Perseus and narrated the story said it. So it must be true, right? But is that how you write a story? Sure, they all keep saying that Perseus is all that and does not deserve to be called a hero, but they fail to show the audience how! It keeps being said but it is not shown. The author wants us to hate Perseus by saying it but does not show us why.

This is where it feels like the book fails to understand Ancient Greek culture. The point about Perseus being an annoying and arrogant little prick circles around the fact that he wants to set out on a quest to get Medusa's head but he does not know what a gorgon is, what to do, where to go, and all that shit. He also "complains a lot" and when he got Medusa's head, he "liked killing people" and became "arrogant". First, honor and pride are the center of Ancient Greek stories, characters, and heroes. This is why Greek gods and goddesses intervene in wars and quests. This is basic in any Greek mythology thing! And even without these values, of course Perseus would not want his mother to be taken by any man, even by a king! Why would we fault Perseus with that? Gorgoneion kept saying in one chapter that had Perseus not intervened, the king would have grown tired of Danae (Perseus' mother) and would have cast her aside because he was not interested in her anyway; he just wanted whatever his brother, Dictys, had (Danae and Perseus was taken in by Dictys when they escaped Danae's kingdom long ago). But how would Perseus know that? All Perseus knew, as a 16-year old boy, was that their peaceful life was disturbed by a king and now the king wants his mother. What child would not want to do anything and everything to intervene, Ancient Greek mythology character or not?

Next, Perseus was sixteen! A child! An Ancient Greek child, at that. Of course, he would not know what a gorgon was, where Nereids lived, what he needs to behead a gorgon, and all those things. He did not grow up as a prince being educated on what gods, goddesses, and monsters looked like; he grew up in a fishermen's village learning how to live day by day beside a sea! He was well-taken care of by Danae and Dictys, of course he was mostly comfortable in life. Of course, he would complain when there are painful and uncomfortable moments in his quest! Anyone would! Anyone would grow frustrated and complain when they do not know stuff, but know that they have to do something or else their parent would be taken away, but somehow they keep failing and/ or getting lost! It was stupid, yes, to set out not figuring things out first, but if you were given only two months to do something known as impossible with your parent's freedom at stake and with no one else to support you (even Dictys did not speak against the king, his own brother), even you would go impulsive.

In moments in which Perseus does something abhorrent, his actions seem random and forced, just so they can say that he is bad. For example, Perseus used Medusa's head to turn someone to stone when they denied him food and lodging. They said he had to get the king's, Atlas', permission first and the directions they gave him was lengthy and confusing that it annoyed him, so he turned them to stone.

In the end, most of his being annoying and whiney can be attributed to the fact that he is just sixteen but he feels that he has to do something impossible to save his mother. His being arrogant can be attributed to the fact that he is just sixteen yet he killed and outsmarted gorgons with the help and favor of the gods. He was also mostly kept company by gods who are known to be arrogant. Now, I am not in any way defending Perseus—I know Ancient Greek men in the mythology are shitty—but this is how I view the author's persistent shoving in the face of Perseus being a prick. The author keeps taking Greek mythology out of context; Stone Blind keeps being pulled to modern world and standards that it cast aside the context and nuances of Ancient Greece and Greek mythology. It is not impossible to apply modern idealogoies like feminism in Greek mythology; Circe by Madeline Miller did it. Proper contextualization and a good understanding of Greek mythology can do the trick. And in the case of Medusa? It should have not been difficult at all. Common people on the internet have done it! Medusa has already become an icon for survivors of abuse and harassment. How did the retelling of Medusa's story in Stone Blind fail in this?

Second, how did a book claiming to put women at the center fail to write women in better light? Stone Blind kept trying so hard to say "men bad" but in the end, it seems like Athene was the villain and Medusa was no better than the Perseus she kept insulting; and no man faced any consequence nor retribution. Retelling and reimagining a classic, an ancient story already gives you the edge to make a difference, to send a better message, yet Stone Blind failed so miserably. Sure, maybe the idea was that, "if men can be so bad they can kill anyone, maybe my being vengeful and heartless as a woman is not so bad?" But if this is so, then it all becomes so wrong. How is Medusa's "killing" people "empowering" for women when in the end, she was just a weapon used by Perseus that she did not even have the agency to choose when and who to kill?

The root of it all was Poseidon. Poseidon violated Medusa in Athene's temple. But Athene cannot directly offend Poseidon, so she goes to Medusa, the easier target. Poseidon tricked Hephaestus to take Athene as a bride. Zeus blessed the idea. Hephaestus violates Athene. Athene takes Athens to offend Poseidon. And that is it. Athene did not even craft any long-term plan to take vengeance on Poseidon, the root of it all. And what of Hephaestus? What was the purpose of that scene!? Sure, that was part of the real mythology, but in this book, what was the purpose? If it was to show that even goddesses are not safe from the evilness of men, that even Athene, the one who cursed Medusa for Poseidon's sin, knew how it felt to be harassed, then why did she not change her thoughts about Medusa and her curse? Why did she not change her perspective on women? Because she is an Olympian and Olympians are arrogant? Or is all this just so that the author can retell the story of how Athens became Athene's, and then the olive grove, Elaia, can narrate a small part of the story that is not all that significant anyway? Such a missed opportunity to change the tides in Medusa's story. Women tore each other down; men stood unaffected by their own actions and the consequences.

Then there was also this small appearance of a woman who could have done something: Amphitrite, the wife of Poseidon. According to Stone Blind, Amphitrite was pursued by Poseidon nonstop until she gave up hiding and just gave in. So she knew how Poseidon is. And she knew Medusa caught Poseidon's eyes. The book said, "...she wondered if she should warn the Gorgons of the danger their sister is in." What was the purpose of this line, or the whole chapter's thought, for that matter? To show that the own wife of Poseidon became his wife because he would not stop going after her, even after rejection? To show that Amphitrite also went through what Medusa was about to go through? And then what? Nothing.

Gaia, the titan goddess of earth, was also introduced. During that pointless titan vs. gods war, Gaia was introduced as a mother who wanted to help her titan children, but was immediately defeated by Zeus through god-knows-what. And that war, my god, what was that for!? If that was only to introduce Gaia and allow her to get Hephaestus' semen (from Athene's discarded cloth when she wiped herself after the harassment) and create a child out of it for revenge to Athene, and for that child to grow and help in settling to whom Athens will go to, then it really was not that important. Because: how is this relevant to Medusa?

More on the lack of better characterization of women? Let us talk about Cassiope and Andromeda! Cassiope, and her husband, the king Cepheus, wanted Andromeda to marry Cepheus' brother, an old man. Andromeda vehemently refused, Cassiope felt her loss of power and beauty, and so she blasphemed saying she is more beautiful, if not as beautiful, as the Nereids. The Nereids got offended by her hubris and demanded Poseidon to punish their kingdom. The kingdom gets flooded, and they demanded a sacrifice as an offering to appease them: Andromeda. Andromeda, before getting eaten by the sea monster who was apparently Medusa's mother, gets rescued by Perseus... by using Medusa's head to turn the sea monster to stone. Andromeda, then, wanted to marry Perseus, but Cepheus and Cassiope have doubts. They are correct in having doubts in him, because in Stone Blind, Perseus is said to be bad. But Andromeda refuses to listen nor believe in them because she no longer wants other people to dictate her marriage, which is good for her! She wants what she wants. But in the end, she still is not better than Cassiope because she also believes Cassiope is at fault. She is, but Cepheus' inaction should have been just as bad. What makes their story difficult to follow is how women in this story immediately face terrible consequences for relatively small offenses, while men do not; and it is also women who punish and look down on them. And again, what was the purpose of Cassiope's vanity and hubris in the run of Medusa's story? To show excess vanity can lead to hubris and a godly offense? To make Medusa meet her mother? But then, what was the point of Medusa meeting her mother? For her to think, "Why did I not close my eyes?" Why not, indeed?

Do note that I know this all sounds like I am putting the responsibility on women, rather than men. But remember: the author kept explicitly saying "men bad" (and so far men really did bad things and/ or stood by on the side when something was happening, so that checks out); and if this is a book meant to focus on women and retell their stories, then women should have been written better and differently from their original accounts. But so far, nothing. They were all as they originally were. And they stood by, like the men, when something happened to their fellow women.

Third, the characters are bland and are mischaracterized. The only good people depicted who are relevant to Medusa are her sisters, her fellow gorgons. They are also the only characters who have personalities. They even have more agency than the supposed main character, Medusa. Other than that, Perseus, we already talked about him; Dictys, introduced as a kind protector of women who wash up on the beach, but suddenly did not defend Danae when the king wanted her as his wife? He was kind enough to take them in, wise enough to move away from his king of a brother when he was clearly unwanted and it seemed he induces paranoia in him brought about by insecurity and envy; but when the king himself shows up and claims that he wants Danae, who Dictys said that he sees as his own daughter, for himself, he suddenly cannot speak against him? Changing a character's personality so suddenly to drive the story forward?

Now, about the gods. The gods, the Olympians, are only depicted as one thing: arrogant and prideful. All of them. Gods and goddesses alike. No other personality. And so when Athene and Hermes were made to banter, it comes off all wrong, weird, and irrelevant. Sometimes, the author tries to put humor in Athene, but it is just wrong and out of character. One time, the author made her whiney and childlike when she demanded a "thing" because all other gods have a "thing", it felt so out of character because throughout the story, she was just serious and arrogant. But then this scene happens just to show how Zeus made owls her thing. And owls did not even become relevant in the story (though a crow randomly narrated a chapter). This might have been there to show dimensions and depth of Athene as a character, but it just failed because: it did not become relevant.

The ending also felt so weird and out of character for Athene. Athene, the goddess of wisdom, literal brainchild of Zeus, who should be serious, sure, and always knowledgeable, for some reason, does not know the extent and capabilities of the curse she herself put on Medusa! What the fuck was that? She wanted Medusa to "change her back"; Athene accidentally turned a priestess of her temple to stone because the priestess looked into Athene's breastplate where she put Medusa's head. One, how does the goddess of wisdom accidentally turn someone to stone because she forgot she was wearing Medusa's head and regret it? Two, how does the goddess of wisdom not know her own curse that she herself put on someone? Three, how does the goddess of wisdom forget that that happened a century ago, and not know a century, a year is longer than an hour? And four, how does the goddess of wisdom, an Olympian, not know when a torch is lit not for her but for the priestess she turned to stone?

More than that, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, Athene wants a home, but not the temples nor Olympus. She felt homesick and lonely. But why? How? Nowhere in the story did it say nor show that she felt anything of the sort. And she opens this up to Medusa, and allows Medusa to turn her to stone. Why? In this kind of ending, what and where is the resolution?

Lastly, all Medusa was in this story is still a helpless gorgon whose agency in her own story was so minimal that she was not able to change her own fate. She even turned her own mother to stone, and then thought, "Why did I not close my eyes?" The same question I kept thinking of every time Perseus takes her head out of the bag and uses her as a weapon. When Medusa was first beheaded, she made sure to look at the ground only to avoid turning anyone else to stone, but wanted Perseus to accidentally look because she was so angry she wanted to turn him to stone. The first time Perseus took her out to turn people to stone, Medusa felt too powerful and seemed to regret it. I thought, as a revenge and to finally make her own move and decisions, she would maybe start closing her eyes whenever she is taken out by Perseus. But no. I thought, maybe it is because she claims to no longer be the Medusa who cares for mortals. Because a mortal killed her, she no longer feels sympathy and no longe cares when she kills mortals. Alright. But then, I thought you hated Perseus, so why allow him to continually use you as a weapon? Why agree to be used by him and help him succeed?

Eventually, I realized how everyone in the story is an unreliable narrator, especially Gorgoneion aka Medusa/ Medusa's head. That would have been fine if not for the fact that the characters themselves are mischaracterized throughout the story. And to make things worse, why are other characters, mainly men, and other storylines used for Medusa's story to progress? The only reason I can think for this is that the author herself does not understand Greek mythology, Ancient Greece, and the values upheld by Ancient Greeks (at least, in the mythology) well enough to apply modern ideologies in it and so she did not know what to do with Medusa in Medusa's story herself.

[grumpy-liebgott]

Miscellaneous tag game

Made by the one and only @ronald-speirs <33 Thank you for the tag @panzershrike-pretz @mutantmanifesto @dontirrigateme @malarkgirlypop

Favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

I visited a town near this mountain in China called Siguniangshan Town once and I loved it so much. My country is pretty hot, so I enjoyed the cold air very much. The buildings there are so pretty, and the food is just amazing. Also I saw yaks and wild horses, which was really cool.

Something you’re proud of yourself for?

I'm proud of getting through 2023. It was a really stressful year for me, especially during my exams, but I pushed through. I've just received my results, and I'm happy to say that I passed with flying colours!

Favorite books?

The Invisible life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab, The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, and The Hand, The Eye and The Heart by Zoe Mariott

Something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?

My dogs - the way they practically melt when I scratch a specific spot on their bodies. The way Hollie curls up into a ball when she sleeps, and the way Mochi sleeps in the most ridiculous positions. The way they'd literally start climbing me if they want more attention. I just love them so much.

Favorite thing about your culture?

Definitely the food. Also the festivals.

When did you join the HBO War fandom? What was the first show you watched?

I joined quite recently, around winter 2023. The first show I watched was band of brothers!

Have you read any of Easy Company’s books? If so, which ones were your favorite?

Nope, but I hope to one day

Favorite HBO War character and your favorite moment with them?

Joe Liebgott. My favourite moment was that part when he said "woah, hershey bars!" Oh also that scene in the concentration camp. It just felt like such a raw moment for someone like Lieb who seems like a tough person most of the time.

George Luz. For him, my favourite moment was when he shouted "I HAVE NO IDEA" to Harry. Besides that, I like the part in Hagenau where he was just so done with everyone trying to take the chocolates.

Do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

No, but I hope to one day!

Favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

Well, I've never really thought about it, but if I had to say, maybe Millie Bobby Brown. I loved watching her in Enola Holmes, and Stranger Things.

Favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

Uhh I don't really have a favourite quote, so I'm just gonna take one I like from Pinterest

"Have fun even if it's not the same kind of fun everyone else is having." - C. S. Lewis

Random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

Ummm, maybe that I'm currently taking a diploma in piano.

If you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?

I'm not a writer, but maybe one day in the future???

Three things that make you smile?

My sister or my dad telling the dumbest jokes to ever exist.

Visiting the zoo/aquarium

Interacting with my mutuals

Any nicknames you like?

Not really. Zowie is actually a nickname already so that, I guess?

List some people you love to see around on tumblr!

@blueberry-ovaries @panzershrike-pretz @ronald-speirs @blood-mocha-latte @footprintsinthesxnd @mutantmanifesto @david-sharkthot-webster @sharkboyandlavalieb

I'm probably forgetting so many but those are the ones I see a lot

What would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

Die immediately. I have no survival skills and I'm SO unfit

Favorite movie?

1917, Enola Holmes (1 and 2), Mulan (animated and live action), Fury, Paddington (1 and 2), Black Widow

There's so many I just can't remember them.

Do you like horror movies?

No. I hate them. Whenever I'm forced to watch one, I'd spend the next few days sleeping on my sister's bed and jumping at every little thing.

Yes, I know I'm pathetic.

Tagging (no pressure!) : @flashnthunder @blueberry-ovaries @footprintsinthesxnd @georgieluz @a-gassy-antelope @b00ks1ut @sharkboyandlavalieb

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 3/29

What am I feeling today?

Pretty good, I woke up on time and I’m going to be meeting with a friend soon that I haven’t seen in maybe 5 years? It’ll be really nice to catch up with her because we used to be very close. I’m feeling hopeful about today and looking forward to what I can accomplish!

Women’s Midweek Lesson - Teachability - Recap

The women in our church had an incredible lesson on teachability and as much as I’d love to share the whole thing, for this morning I’m just going to focus on what stood out to me🤗

How easy is it for someone to teach you?

We were asked this question at the beginning of the lesson and I originally put down a 7/8

Are you unteachable?

Proverbs 12:15 NIV

“The way of fools seems right to them, but the wise listen to advice.”

Are we being fools? Am I so stuck in what I believe is right that I won’t allow anyone to tell me otherwise?

I know I can be like this sometimes. I acknowledge that I’m a stubborn person and I don’t like to say I’m picky but rather particular about how I like things done/handled. I know that stems from a desire of control and familiarity. I don’t like change, I don’t like unpredictability, I don’t like feeling unprepared so I stick with what I know.

To give examples, I read the last chapter of a book before starting it, I watch the same shows over and over again, I read the whole summary of a movie before watching it, I cook the same meals every day, I organize everything in the same spot and have designated hangers for each of my clothes, and there’s many more things I could list. These are all things I do to ensure my comfort and sense of control (I’ll touch more on the comfort zone later though).

Do you only do the bare minimum?

I know I am guilty of this. I don’t wish for my response to come across as making excuses but moreso and explanation. I take on a lot of tasks and responsibilities. I have a lot on my plate and they are all things that I have chosen to do. However, with all of those things, my time is constrained and most days I feel that I am stretched too thin. I block time for each responsibility but I feel as though I’m not always able to give my best or as much as I want to or something else will go unaccomplished.

This relates to my life as a disciple. I block an hour of time each morning for my quiet times but I feel that it’s the bare minimum. I wish I could do more but to do more, I’d have to sacrifice something else. My hope is that when summer comes around, many of my responsibilities will be freed up and I’ll have extra time to dive deeper into the study of the Word.

Do you talk a lot to avoid hearing advice?

Proverbs 10:19, 18:2 NIV

“Sin is not ended by multiplying words, but the prudent hold their tongues.”

“Fools find no pleasure in understanding but delight in airing their own opinions.”

These two scriptures touch on holding the tongue and airing out one’s own opinion.

I go back and forth on this. Many people when they initially meet me regard me as shy and quiet. That’s how I’ve been labeled my whole life, I even remember times in school when some classmates would ask if I even talked🫥

However, I love to talk. I joke sometimes with my brother saying I’m a professional yapper. Or I’ll post things like this in reference to me:

Which roughly translates too, I talk a lot, I’m like a podcast. My family knows this. I’ll talk to them all day long about everything and anything. Sometimes I don’t even say things of substance, just mumbling the theme songs to mario or star wars or making random sounds.

But I digress, see even in texting I talk too much.

Anyways, when I have time with my discipler, sometimes I worry that maybe I talk too much. I’ve tried to implement something new the past few months. I let her give me whatever lesson she has planned and once we finish that, I have my own list of things I want to discuss and take the end time to bring it up. I think this works and prevents me from wasting time talking but I’ll talk with her again today about all this and see if she thinks I talk too much because I think I do😅

Do you always look for comfort and familiarity? Are you prepared to get out of your comfort zone?

Proverbs 1:32 NIV

“For the waywardness of the simple will kill them, and the complacency of fools will destroy them;”

I looked up the definitions to be sure and then synonyms. You can think of wayward as willful, headstrong, stubborn, and complacent as smug, pride, self-satisfaction.

I touched on this earlier, noting that I’m stubborn and like my comfort. But here it says that these same traits will kill and destroy me. That’s worrisome. I want to know the root of it though. Obviously people like to be comfortable, I feel that’s human nature.

But whats the root of my stubbornness? why do I feel the need to be in control? what’s the reason for me being so particular? why does it bother me so much when something is not done the way I like it/do it? (I’ll try reading this out or finding a plan to work through this)

[theharrowing]

I haven’t decided yet if the journal is going to be for the actual book or if I’m going to use it for my lore. I like to read and write a lot of different stuff, but I have a soft spot for Fantasy. Most of my lore currently is I’ve somewhat decided on my types of dragons and their looks, what makes them unique, that kind of thing. Sometimes, I wish I could draw or something like that because it would be so fun to see them drawn out.

I’m trying to just write a little Drabble today, something cute to cull my current obsession with Minho from Stray Kids 😂 I really need to start some kind of Stray Kids Au but it’s always easier to write BTS ones for some reason, idk why. With all of my different groups, you would think I would have something else other than the Monsta X au I haven’t updated in forever.

I have to remind myself that it’s not necessarily that my writing is bad, just that people have different writing styles. I used to write just reactions and scenarios because I didn’t trust my writing style to be good enough to write actual stories. My best friend reads some stuff, but not much. Except the Hogwarts Au that I have random parts written for but not the full first chapter. It had some stuff planned, or random scenes I want to incorporate but I’m not sure where I’m putting them yet.

Also, you labeled me darling 🥺🥺🫶

-Brea

i definitely feel like maybe use the journal to plot and make lists. i would be worried about writing the actual story on paper and then not having the freedom to move things around. it could be messy quick. DRAGONS ARE SO COOL i love dragon lore!!! i also wish i could draw ugh i wanna draw for my own fics and ideas so badly.

a SKZ au sounds fun! i would like to write for other groups but i don't know too many artists as well as i feel like i do with BTS. it's easier for me to draw from their personalities, i guess. i do have a Changkyun oneshot that i started months ago and need to finish, at some point, but other than that, and sticking various artists into Collateral, i don't have anything for other groups.

it is definitely important to remember that we have different writing styles and that just because we love on person's does not take away from our own. it is also okay to evolve and change our styles! i feel like i am constantly evolving little by little. i like to take away little turns of phrases or words that i see from other fiction. and i see people use some of my own things stylistically, especially friends. i think it's fun to swap and change and dabble with that sort of thing. definitely don't think you have to have one style always and that it is not as good as that of someone else!!! but! also! if there are things you want to improve on, make a list of ways you would like to, when you see things used in the wild. 💜

also, hello! you are darling! hehehe. did you write the drabble (or anything) yesterday?

[fictionalwhores]

Dating Peter Parker headcanons...

-This boy is such boyfriend material 

-I mean just look at this cute bean 

-Him swinging through your window with a box of pizza and DVDs when you say you want a movie night 

-Because let's be real, movie nights are totally a thing with him 

-Peter brags that he has all your favorite snacks memorized and will always buy you some when you’re having a tough day 

-In reality he just has an ongoing list in his phone of your favorites, but he will never admit to it 

-This bean is a great cuddler don't even fight me on this 

-His chest is the best place to lay your head and he wiLL NOT move if you fall asleep on him 

-He makes sure his baby stays comfortable 

-Peter is the best hugger  

-he loves when you play with his hair 

-He won’t even deny it, he full on whines like a baby if you stop 

-”Why’d you stopppp??” 

-”It’s been three hours!!” 

-Peter is not afraid to show you off and wants you to be with him in every social event so he can introduce you as his girlfriend to everyone 

-he’s not afraid to point you out anytime he sees you 

-Honestly, Ned can spot you out in a crowd better than anyone else just cause of him 

-”That’s my GIRLFRIEND”  

-”Peter, wE KNOW” 

-Peter coming over to help you study and finding it cute when you get frustrated 

-He just stares at you with amusement and gets sidetracked by your beauty 

-My god, there would be so many compliments from this boy 

-”You’re adorable”

-”Your hair is magnificent today” 

-”That shirt looks great on you!” 

-”Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

-He gets so flustered if it’s reversed though 

-”Peter, you’re so cute” 

-”I-I’m, what are you- what?! I didn’t even do anything!” 

-You stealing his hoodies 

-It didn’t take him long to figure out where they were disappearing to since you wore them to school 

-He thinks they look great on you and encourages you to wear them when out 

-The Spiderman secret wasn’t kept from you for long 

-maybe two months tops and that was just because you were both really busy and didn’t see each other a lot 

-But when the relationship started getting more serious he just blurted it out one day 

-You weren’t that shocked, saying you had suspected something while you two were friends 

-He was so relieved it didn’t change anything 

-Him walking you home from school so he “Can protect you from anything” 

-But literally nothing ever happens 

-Except that one time there was this bee 

-Long story short it almost stung you but he saved you 

-Peter won’t ever let you live that down and constantly uses that as an excuse to walk you anywhere

-Not that you mind 

-You two building lego sets together 

-staying up late to talk about whatever comes to mind

-Peter will always help you carry stuff in the hallway at school

-Sometimes he will just carry all your books and backpacks to your next class while you talk to him about your morning 

-This boy rambles a lot, but he loves to listen to you talk

-He tunes everything else out to make sure that he doesn’t miss anything you say 

-Because this boy will bring it up later to just show you he was listening 

-He’s shy when it comes to PDA because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable so you make the first move for everything 

-But in private he is always kissing you and has his hand on your thigh or back or hand or anywhere 

-He has to be careful when you two are making out or doing the naughty because you both forget how strong he actually is with his spidey powers and ends up bruising your hips or pulling your hair too hard 

-Needless to say he will never forgive himself when this happens 

-There’s lots of sweet pampering from him after that even though you tell him repeatedly that you’re fine 

-He’s the one that says “I love you” First 

-And he won’t let you forget it 

-He says it all the time during the most random moments 

-This boy is lowkey clinging and will give you all the attention you want if it means he gets to spend time with you 

-Peter Parker is just all around a great boyfriend and we all need someone like him in our lives <3

[dreamcatcherrs]

random technoblade dating hcs

+ reminder! you might not at all have the same interests as the ‘y/n’ in this hc, but this is just based off the type of person I imagine techno would have really good chemistry with. interests, actions, outlook on life etc.

song recommendation: sparks - coldplay

he loooves recommending books to you

especially the ones that mean the most to him

like, ones from his childhood that he still reads to this day

you reccommed books to each other literally all the time

and when you read them, you ‘go your separate ways’

like, sitting in your own corner of the couch

note: I also headcannon techno with a small man bun and glasses sitting under a blanket- it’s just too perfect

and when you’re done you cuddle up together

and then talk for hours about every thought you had about the books you read

you two also drink a looot of tea

I’m surprised you don't have to pee every 2 minutes

techno is really really good at feedback

he might've dropped out of college, but he was still an english major

it’s just in his nature to criticise something he’s suggested to you and likes himself

this might come as a little bit of a surprise, but techno loves it when you cook together

I could imagine that he’s the type to say “I’m really not that good at cooking” but then is actually extremely good at it

to him cooking is just a stress reliever - something to get his mind off of things

and then when it’s with you, it’s even better

you could definitely plead him into wearing a “kiss the chef” apron

and even if he groans about hating it, he secretly has a soft spot for how giggly you get when you see him giving in to wearing it

he adores forehead kisses

there’s just something about your forehead that makes him wanna kiss it

even if you're literally doing nothing

zoning out mid-conversation with someone else? forehead kiss

so focused on doing something to a perfect extent? forehead kiss

so tired that you can barely even keep your eyes open, actual drool falling from your mouth? forehead kiss

let’s just say; if he’s not kissing your forehead within 2 hours of being with you, something’s wrong

speaking of kisses; he enjoys them more when they’re not on your lips

it’s an underrated preference of his, but it really shows in the way he shows affection

he’s always kissing your hand, shoulder, cheek, forehead - anywhere where there’s access to your skin tbh

and does it with such tenderness and so much softness

he also tends to slowly caress your arm or leg while cuddling

sometimes without even noticing

he’d be teasing you so often

but the things he teases you about are actually the things he find so special about you and really likes about you

he really likes learning new things from you

and then picking up on some of your habits

it’s just another thing to remind him of how head over heels for you he actually is

when he really needs comfort, holding his hand or engulfing him in your arms is the way to go

doesn't matter it you're silent or not while doing it - it helps him feel so so much better either way

and he does the exact same with you

maybe even brushing his hand though your hair while gently hushing you

and reminds you that you don't have to talk if you don't want to and is just super sweet

he’s a lot better at handling other people’s emotions than he thinks

and gives really good advice afterwards

he really appreciates it when you take care of him

like bringing him food while he’s busy with something else because it’s getting late and you just know he’ll forget

or when you remind him that everything doesn't have to be perfect and done all at once

and when you silently sling a scarf around his neck because it’s, like, one degree colder than yesterday

and he can never forget the countless of times where you give him that smile

the one that makes him forget about all of his problems and only think about you, you, you

the one that reminds him that you love him and are always there for him

you two have started an ongoing thing without even noticing, which is sharing a glass of wine together over a nice homemade dinner on a friday evening, binge-watching movies that you both find nostalgic or memorable in some way and just enjoying each other’s company

and it’s really nice ;(

you force him out of the house when it’s been literal weeks since he’s seen the sun shine

and go for short walks to random places

I feel like he’d really enjoy showing you the places he used to roam

his old college for example

even though he dropped out - he still has a lot of memories from there that he’d love to tell you about

he’s kind of like your local tour guide - though he’s only telling you stories about himself

which just makes it even better

when in crowded places, he always has a protective hand on your back

it’s just a natural reflex at this point

if he knows you’ll be walking alone in the dark, he makes sure you always call him

so you won't be completely “alone”

or he’ll just pick you up himself if you're far away from home

techno spoils you so much, too

and even when you tell him to stop, it’s hard for him to

he just wants to do anything to make you happy

you’d book a cabin once in a while

for just the two of you

for occasions where everything around you can seem a little too loud

and it’s always suuuper cozy

you guys always help each other fall asleep

you basically just talk until you're both too tired to do it anymore

and he’ll always make sure you're snuggled up nicely in his arms before dozing off :)

tag list✰

@zayenz @terribletoothbat @0t0n1n @0125cm @yukiuheh @shinee-is-5-forever @regularnoceur @b01nk-b0w@christhebish@nutritious-emo-crackkk@bookishreid@giavanna-707 @reddiesmcdonalds@cosmins@vixxzial@autumnpleaves@paradigmax@meaganjm@shiningsunrises@moralofwalls@username1212131@gxldentaestuff@innitdream @televisionpresent38 @bubblyanis@zurami @highoffhockey @popinjaytaylor@196os@livsbaby@doubts-of-gold@bunlina@retrav @mcyt-is-my-life@aleaisntcreative @my-shitpost-of-writing @my-shitpost-of-writing @clownsdrowning @pissbabywastaken@shiningsunrises @tie-dyed-dumbass @death-by-rats@simpfordraco @bippity-boppity-boopa@neongreendaydreams  @vibin-by-myself@littlepotatos0w0@christhebish @pipp-poppz@btsiguess-kpop@prettysmallfries@hiyoko-kos@kenmxskitten@fudrudy@weepingartanimespy@rhino-zucchini@goldenstarofthunderclan@melonmarz@ubeicecreamisthebest@polaroidinurroom @ady-yoo@isimpforeveryone@edenhollandd@ineedtogetoutofhere@glitter-night @hamilsandersfam@mothheart-witch @wrong-exit@trashcanfullofdork  @hellfirepheonixx @marshmallow-babe@isimpforeveryone @ky50621 @randomcloud@wormie4k@dinonuggies50  @p4rty-t4ttoos@aspenthegremlin@book-of-anarchy @jeyacore @thetattooink@gogywasfound@millavalntyne@junob1ade@ubeicecreamisthebest@karida @i-have-paws-love@drvgonraja@eatasslikegrass@creamofweep@venusomega@lunarfedora@rowe-n @wreny24 @vincent-stargogh @floatingplanets​ @vernon-dursley​ @childhoodgrunge​ @fivxss @hexagonclash​ @crazyjuls12​ @littlebabysandboxburritos @shifted-dreams@lenamarie666 @reinyrei @sozvuchiy @weaslvy-mxlfoy​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @honeyglaazed @carisle-mikealson​ @ineedtogetoutofhere​ @twist3dtinkerbell@cracraforfandoms@angel-dazey @leia-starly @smiithys​ @squiddyyyy​ @c0wc0ww​ @animeweeb019284​ @m00-bl00m-k0le @stqrs-thoughts @jenlouvre @uhhhguiltypleasures​ @trappedchest​ @punzrights​ @trashgremlin36​ @cyberrsoot​ @elebeleb​ @k3nn3dis-crap​ @karlshoodies​ @rascal-in-banishment​ @heartbroken-writer​ @bartok-the-magnificent​ @ihavenoideashelp​ @goldiefox1​ @bethybop​ @helluhru​ @venuzblr​ @phased-sun @cscooop​  

[vampirerosearin]

Trauma Always Ruins a Good Time (Chapter 3)

Book Title: Widowed Willows Genre: Fluff, Past Angst Word Count: 2,543 Warnings: Flashback of death, Being a second choice, Shitty best friend Tyler, Mention of past cheating, let me know if I missed anything Master List | Story Master List | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter DO NOT PLACE MY WORK ANYWHERE ELSE! You may reblog, but don't repost! Let me know if you want me to tag you.

──────────────────────────────────────────

The next morning, Amari lay across Elena’s bed, watching her run around searching for her necklace. The dark-skinned girl glanced around the room in a daze, thinking about what happened the night before.

Maybe whatever attacked Vicki had also attacked her. She should probably speak to Bonnie’s grandma about it. Shelia always told Amari her story was more than Mystic Falls and went back farther than she thought. Amari let out a breath before glancing at Elena, “Why can’t you just leave without it?”

Elena turned as if offended, “You gave me that necklace when we were 6 and 7, I promised to never take it off.”

She turned back to her dresser, sifting through the sea of random things. Some trinkets from her childhood, friends, admirers, and family. When they were younger, Elena and Amari vowed to never leave each other. They kept the promise, while Elena grew popular and gained many friends and admirers. Amari went to weed, drugs, books, and the art of painting and sketches.

Elena always invited Amari to parties, sleepovers, etc. Eventually, the other kids saw Amari for Amari and not 'Elena's junkie baggage'. She gained her own popularity when she fought someone for making fun of a visiting kid.

"I took it off to shower," Elena turned with her hands on her hips, eyes bouncing around the room, "So water wouldn't get in the cracks, and I haven't seen it since. Can you check downstairs?"

Standing up and grabbing her bag, Amari walked out of the bedroom and made her way downstairs. She stopped at the bottom of the steps, brows furrowed in confusion, seeing her aunt standing in the hallway in front of a mirror.

"Hair up or down?" Jenna asked, glancing up at Amari as she pulled her strawberry blonde hair in a bun. Amused, Amari walked over commenting, "Sexy stewardess."

Jenna rolled her eyes as she released her hair leaving it to fall down her back and rest on her shoulders in waves. Jenna turned to look at Amari with her eyebrows raised, waiting for her opinion.

"You look like a boozy housewife." The strawberry blonde couldn't help but scoff in amusement, shaking her head lightly before looking in the mirror as she began tying her hair in a bun, "Up it is, then."

"Jenna," Amari started, in a daze staring at her aunt. "Have you seen Elena's necklace?"

Seeing the look of confusion on Jenna's face, she stands straight, clarifying. "The one that says little sis with a purple heart."

Jenna lights up in realization, "It's on the counter in the kitchen. There was a spot on it, so I cleaned it." Amari smiles in thanks before turning back to the stairs. "Elena, it's downstairs!"

A thud is heard, a groan, and then the pounding thuds of Elena's feet hitting the steps. Finishing her hair, Jenna turned to the two girls noticing the small smirk on Amari's face.

"Well, you're feisty today."

Amari smiled shrugging her shoulders, Elena beamed at her, exclaiming, " I feel good, so I've decided to go with it." She swings her arms around, bouncing on the heels of her feet, doing a dance. "Sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows, and whatever else the song says."

Elena snorts, smirking at Amari as she grins, "That's code for: I've met a boy and I'm hopelessly falling in love with him." The curly brunette gasps before shoving Elena, while Jenna grins at the girls with an amused glint in her eyes.

Amari walked into the kitchen, "Where's Jeremy?" Glancing back at her family, before grabbing the necklace and a cheese stick.

"Oh, He left early," Jenna shrugged, gathering her things and handing Elena a lunch bag and water bottle for Amari. "Something about getting to the woodshop early to finish a birdhouse." She continued, making the other girls look at the strawberry blonde, a puzzled look on their faces.

Jenna sighed in disbelief, "There is no woodshop, is there?"

Elena and Amari both shook their heads, Jenna groaning in annoyance and frustration for actually believing what Jeremy told her this morning. She sighed looking down at the watch on her wrist.

"Crap!" The pale woman exclaimed before rushing towards the door grabbing her coat and bag, realizing she was late for her meeting.

The girls smile in amusement at their aunt's antics before glancing at each other. Amari frowns at Elena, "Wasn't it you Stefan spent the party talking to?" Elena tilted her head to the side, her smile slowly dropping.

" Talking on the bridge? How'd it go?" Elena's eyes widened slightly, shaken her head knowing she wouldn't be able to keep anything from her friend. She turns, lifting her hair so Amari can clip the necklace on. "It was, good? I mean we talked but I didn't feel anything."

Elena turns to clip Amari's lunch bag to her backpack, before grabbing her own bag. "I think he likes you though, I saw him holding you, looked cute."

"It's not what you think," Amari informed with a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest as they walk out the door and sit on the porch waiting for Bonnie to pick them up.

She didn't know how she felt about Stefan, but she definitely wanted him to be around. As a friend, or lover, she didn't know, but she knew she wasn't ready for another relationship. Her last one was sabotaged by Tyler; she remembers finding her boyfriend attempting to make out with another.

Tyler apologized, telling her he just wanted to see if he was faithful. That he did her a favor, she could break up with her boyfriend because he was an 'unfaithful piece of shit' who didn't deserve her. She forgave him, of course, but it put a rift in their friendship.

She'll always care about Tyler, they were best friends before the relationship, but things are different now and Amari wanted to move forward.

"We're just friends, I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship after, you know." Amari turns to look at Elena, a sad smile on her face. Elena wraps an arm around Amari, pulling her into her side and leaning their heads together.

" And after everything that's happened," She continued, playing with Elena's fingers. "I think this'll be good for me. Maybe I'll find myself again, and I can be a better example for you and Jeremy."

Elena smiled into her friend's hair, knowing how hard it's been for her lately. Remembering what the curly-brunette girl had been through, Elena whispered, "It's always going to hurt, Amari."

"Some days will be harder than others but you have amazing friends, a wonderful family, and an amazing sister. Eventually, we'll remember the good times we had, and that's what we need to hold onto."

Amari couldn't help but smile at her best friend knowing after everything they've been through; they had each other's backs. The dark-skinned girl hoped this was the beginning of moving forward and that they would be happy, eventually.

━━━━━━━━━

Amari sat in between Bonnie and Elena, catching Elena's eye when she glanced back. She let out a sigh of boredom, listening to Mr. Tanner talk about the Mystic Falls comet that hadn't been seen in over a hundred and forty-five years.

The curly-brunette glanced around the classroom; it didn't take long to catch sight of Elena and Stefan giving each other google eyes.

Amari frowned looking between the two with hurt on her face. She loved Elena, she was her best friend, and they knew everything about one another, always there for each other through thick and thin. But every time the dark-skinned girl liked a boy, they always end up choosing her sister and the one-time Amari got into a relationship with a boy, he ended up trying to cheat on her with Elena.

The dark-skinned girl just wanted someone she loved to love her and choose her first, no matter what, flaws and all.

"The comet will be its brightest right after dusk during tomorrow's celebration..." Mr. Tanner trailed off with annoyance clear on his face, noticing the exchange between Stefan and Elena. He glanced between the two, "Are we bothering you? Mr. Salvatore? Ms. Gilbert?"

Elena's smile dropped from her face, eyes widening in alarm at being caught before shaking her head no. Amari snickered, reaching behind her and fist-bumping Bonnie.

━━━━━━━━━

After Class, Amari walked down the corridor with Caroline and Bonnie talking about Bonnie and her abilities. "I'm confused, are you psychic or clairvoyant?" The blonde frowned.

“They’re the same thing,” Amari sighed, “Just one is fancier and harder to say.”

Bonnie glanced between the two girls, "Grams says I'm a witch."

Amari cocked her head to the side with an expectant look on her face as the Bennett girl continued, "Apparently, my ancestors were these really cool Salem witch chicks or something."

She grinned, turning around to walk backward, "Grams said my ancestors tie with Amari's and that they were friends."

She shares a giggle with the other two, "So, maybe we were destined, Amari. I don't know, Grams tried to explain it, but she was looped on the liquor so I kind of tuned out."

Amari chuckled, "Crazy family?" "Yes, witches?" Caroline continued. "I don't think so," Bonnie finished, turning back around to walk correctly with the girls.

"Well, feel free to conjure up the name and number of that guy from last night" Caroline exclaimed, changing the subject with a slight smirk on her face.

Amari chuckled, remembering the blonde telling her about a raven-haired guy she met last night. The curly-haired girl shook her head at Caroline's antics, when the blonde was drunk there's no guarantee what she'd do.

She wishes she was there, so she could've gotten his number and given it to Caroline, but she went with Jeremy to visit Vicky. She remembers meeting up with Matt before school. He told her Vicky was freaking out about a vampire attacking her the night before, but she switched up this morning and told him it was a mountain lion.

It reminded her of the bedtime stories Grayson told her and Elena during sleepovers. Miranda always hitting his shoulder before he could get to, according to Amari, the good part, or 'the nasty bite parts' as Elena called them.

She remembers Grayson pulling her to the side, telling her the rest of the stories. Going through journals, devices, etc. was how Grayson and Amari bonded.

"I didn't see him, you did," Bonnie exclaimed with a laugh, breaking Amari out of her daze and smiling in amusement. Bonnie raised her eyebrows, "Why didn't you just talk to him? You know ask his name and get his number like most people would have."

Caroline shrugged her shoulders, with a smile on her face, she looked between her two friends, "I was drunk."

The three girls giggle as they continued walking down the hallway.

━━━━━━━━━

After school, Amari, Elena, Caroline, Bonnie, and Michelle all headed towards the grille to fold flyers for the comet. Amari looked between the girls, glaring at Bonnie when she sighed again. "Speak woman."

Bonnie looked up with a huff, "I was talking to Grams, and she said the comet is a sign of impending doom. The last time it passed over Mystic Falls, there was lots of death. So much blood and carnage, it created a bed of paranormal activity."

Amari's eyes glazed over, flashes of a blonde woman, a raven-haired man, Michelle, Elena, Stefan, and herself. All wearing 1800s clothing, Elena seemed more confident, cunning, and happier. In a flash, she saw her, Elena, and Michelle sitting outside watching Stefan and the raven-haired man play football.

Stefan turned and gave her a wink before throwing the ball straight at the other man, only for him to drop it and land on his back. Another flash, the blonde woman was grabbing her by the throat and hissing at her, a red rim around her eyes, fangs in place of the normal human canines.

Stefan leaning over her, tears pouring out of his eyes, and then the raven-haired man. Shoving Stefan out of the way, he pulls her towards himself. Telling her to stay awake, that Stefan went to get help, and that he couldn't lose his best friend. That he couldn't lose his sister, they hadn't explored the world yet.

She heard him begging someone to 'turn' her, to help him stop the pain. What sounded like Elena struggling against something, and then her cry out to someone named Laila.

"Amari!" Amari flinched back, looking up she saw her friends staring at her. Caroline handed her a glass of water, Michelle gave her some french fries, and Bonnie brought a wet rag over to place it on her forehead.

"Sorry, lovies," She smiles, one hand grabbing the glass and the other taking a small fry. "I'm a bit sleepy, what were we talking about?"

Caroline sighed, rubbing Amari's arm before turning to Elena with a glare. "We're talking about Elena's boring night with Stefan." Making Amari roll her eyes at the blonde as she then turned to Elena, ignoring the pang in her chest.

Elena sighed glancing between her friends, eyes lingering on Amari, as she shrugged her shoulders and informed them, "There was no sloppy first kiss, or touchy feeling of any kind." Elena shook her head as she continued folding flyers.

"Not even a handshake?" Caroline exclaimed narrowing her eyes at the brunette "I mean, Elena, we are your friends. You're supposed to share the smut."

Elena shook her head, "We just talked for hours."

The blonde couldn't help but scoff as she rolled her eyes, "What is it with the blockage? Just jump his bones already!"

Caroline leaned forward with a grin, "It's easy." She places two hands out, lifting one. "Boy likes girl," She switches her hands, the right hand down and the other one up, "Girl likes boy, sex!" She claps them together with a big grin on her face.

Amari scrunched her face in disgust about her practically sister's sex life or jealousy, she didn't know. But she knew she was amused by Caroline's words as she sent a smirk to her sister, "Yeah, Elena, it's okay to wanna fuck with pretty boy."

Bonnie bit her lip to prevent her from laughing at the curly brunette while Caroline and Michelle openly laughed. Elena looked at her, offended, slapping her arm, "First, I don't like him like that, okay? Second, watch your mouth." Elena said glancing between Caroline and Amari who shrugged their shoulders in response, sharing a grin.

Elena then suddenly paused with a mischievous look on her face thinking about what Caroline had said before she turned to grab her jacket making Michelle furrow her brows in confusion, "Where are you going?"

"Caroline's right, it is easy," Elena exclaimed standing up, "If I sit here long enough, I'll end up talking myself out of it instead of doing what I started the day saying I was going to do." She grabbed Amari's arm, yanking her out of the seat.

"And you're coming with me, don't ask why." The curly brunette looked around franticly before glancing back at her friends for help only for the three to laugh as they watched Elena drag Amari away.

──────────────────────────────────────────

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[legends-live-in-memories]

Picture Perfect

AYO! its me back with more content for the second time this week while i ignore my other wips again. this is a lil gift for @queen-o-leen who i promised wholesome content for! I hope you like it!

Timinette/Timari Oneshot 1.9K words (not related to my other timari oneshots)

Summary:

“Tim spends a nice day in a park in Paris and takes a picture of a pretty girl.

He somehow gets an almost date out of it.”

no warnings this time. completely family-friendly. I know i surprise myself with this one too.

without further ado

He would be the last to admit that Jason was right and that time away was what he needed at this point in life but it can’t be ignored that, for the first time in possibly three years, Tim was having a wonderful day. He was having a wonderful week actually. After one too many unsuccessful cold cases and the simmering anxiety of off-world missions, his family, primarily Jason, for some reason, demanded that he take some time off and away from his unusual brand of normal. How that meant being sent across the Atlantic Ocean to Paris of all places, he wasn’t entirely sure. Alfred probably had a hand in that decision given that, as part of his forced vacation, Tim was not allowed to actually plan any of it. Him. Timothy Jackson Drake. The guy who stalked and manoeuvred his way into Batman’s house and team. The guy who tracked and found said man when the universe thought he was dead but was actually drifting through time. Yeah, Tim was not pleased about being led blind on his vacation. 

At least Paris was a nice city. And he brought his camera. He figured he could use this time to get back into old hobbies and what better hobby to start up again in the city of love than photography? He’s taken pictures of every tourist attraction worth visiting by his second day and began to take candid shots of people and animals. Would Damian like the animal pictures? Maybe, if they came from someone who wasn’t Tim. Is he going to try and give them to him anyways? Absolutely not. He liked his liver where it is, thank you very much. They would serve as great bribing material however. But that’s a thought for another day. 

Right now he was working on capturing what could possibly be described as the stereotypical outing with friends. He’s sitting along some bushes near the entrance of a park and staring at a group of teens his own age hanging around. He spots a brunette with thick curls of hair animatedly speaking with a guy in a vibrant cap. She’s waving a camera herself, and he appreciates her taste in equipment. Her eyes spark with fox-like mischief while the cap guy has a peaceful aura about him; like an old turtle. Next he sees a blonde, her hair is in a ridiculously high ponytail and she’s in a deep conversation with a red head off to the side of the whole group; her words are rushing out of her and she’s a buzzing bee with excitement. Another blond is in the area, but he sits in a broad patch of sun possibly napping with an open book on his chest. Very cat-like Tim supposes. He barely pays them more than a second of thought however. No. 

His focus is on the quaint beauty directly in his line of sight. She’s poised up against the giant tree trunk with a sketchbook in her lap and pencils surrounding her. Her hair hangs by her shoulders in twintails and it’s a colour so dark it seems to absorb the shade of the tree. She’s scribbling furiously on the page before her and her tongue is slightly peaking out to the side. Her forehead is creased with stress lines and her shoulders hunch slightly over her frame. She’s the vision of deep concentration and dedication and Tim would be a fool not to capture her. He’s gotten wide shots of her companions but now he wants to focus on her. 

Looking through the lens of his camera he zooms in on her profile. When his camera focuses, he spots a constellation of freckles across her cheeks, barely there, almost blending in with her complexion but Tim is nothing if not hypervigilant. He goes to take another photo when a bug flies into view. It’s a ladybug. It lands precariously on the tip of her nose and it’s just the thing that breaks her out of her work-induced trance. Tim is watching her now, long forgetting to click the shutter. Her eyes cross as she stares intently at the black-spotted creature and its presence seems to amuse her. She’s giggling to herself, as if sharing an inside joke with the bug and reaches a slim finger to swipe the insect gently from her nose. She inspects it and smiles a smile so soft that not even a feather could compare. He feels like an intruder. More so than one who takes pictures of cute strangers in public. 

Coming back to his senses, he takes another picture, the final picture, and lowers the camera from his face. He looks back at his temporary muse and finds that she is already looking at him. Her head tilts in confusion. Apprehension. Possibly a bit of fear. Which is valid given that Tim was pointing a camera at her from across the public park. What should he do though to quell her fears? 

He felt his face lift into a grin; he didn’t need to look at himself to know it was awkward and forced. A shrug of his shoulders and a flimsy wave of the camera in his hand was the only thing he did. Before he could begin to stumble over himself in apology, however, she surprised him. With a cautious hunch, her shoulders brought up to her ears, and an embarrassed smile to match his own, she slowly flips her sketchbook around and he comes face to face with, well, his face. It was a portrait of him. She had drawn a portrait of him. And she was showing him. Feeling embolden, he flips his camera to show her the screen but she’s too far away. He gets up on unsteady legs, cramped from his uncomfortable position, and begins a slow stride towards her. She meets him in the middle.

“Hi.” He barely speaks those words. They’re more like an exhale or a sigh of relief that he hadn’t scared her off. 

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind the drawing.” Her voice is high and light. Like a spring breeze. She’s daintily waving at him and he sees that her fingers are rough, and calloused. Unexpected but he finds it rather charming. Before he could get another word in, she’s off like an engine. “I just saw you there, and you had your camera so I figured you were taking pictures of us and thought that if you were then you wouldn’t mind me sketching you in kind but I should have asked and I’m sorry for breaching your privacy—” 

“Wait, slow down.” He fears that if he hadn’t interrupted her when he did she would run out of oxygen. Did she even breathe during her spiel? A voice in his head, that sounds like Cass, utters a soft ‘pot, kettle’ and okay, he sees a lot of himself in her mile-a-minute style of speaking. 

“No need to apologize. I’m flattered, truly. You were right, I was taking pictures of you. And your friends!” he hastily adds that last part. He turns his camera so the display screen faces her and he feels himself hold his breath in anticipation. 

A blush rises to her cheeks, red like the ladybug that interrupted her. He quite likes that colour on her. His eyes drift to the sketch and he’s further impressed by her skill. She has an eye for detail. He notices a bird in the background. It’s a robin. That piques his interest and lights a flicker of fear within him. 

“May I ask,” he begins slowly, unsure of what that little addition could mean. Did she know? How could she? Was his identity compromised?

“Why did you draw a robin in the background? It’s lovely but I’m curious,” he finishes. He’s going to play dumb until he has more information. She seems taken off guard by the question and raises her shoulders to her ears again in an embarrassed hunch.

“Well,” she starts, but she seems unsure and the words die on her tongue. She tries again.

“I just saw it fly by and then it landed behind you. So I thought ‘why not?’ and drew it. It seemed fitting.” She wasn’t looking him in the eye and now he felt kind of felt like a jerk for baselessly accusing some random girl. Of course it was just a coincidence. This bat-paranoia was going to be the end of him one day. It’s by sheer miracles and luck why it hasn’t already. 

“Oh, no worries. It just surprised me because it’s my favourite bird.” Right. Lie to the pretty French girl. But what else could he do? Tell her the truth?

“Then it’s a cool coincidence, huh?” She seems encouraged by that tidbit of information.

“Yeah, pure luck on your part.”

“What?” She seems more startled at that than Tim thinks she should be but before he can think deeper into it she speaks again and he would be a fool to not give her his undivided attention.

“Why did you take a picture of me with the ladybug? If you don’t mind me asking.” That stumps him because, to be honest, he does not know why himself. It just felt right. So he tells her as such.

“Well that would be another coincidence because ladybugs are my favourite insects.” She gives him a full smile alongside that statement and the brilliance of it almost blinds him. He wants to capture that smile for eternity. 

The thought strikes him. He doesn’t want this moment to end. He knows by the Friday of next week he’ll be flying back to Gotham where it’s business as usual and Red Robin won’t have time for commitments and puppy love. But right now? Right now Tim Drake is on vacation with a week and half left and all the time in the world to entertain the idea of a spring romance. Making the decision, he goes for it and takes the chance.

“I was getting a bit hungry. Do you know anywhere that’s good to eat at?” It’s an offer, open to interpretation. If she just lists some place, he knows where her interests lay. If she offers to escort him somewhere, then she’s taken the bait for exactly what it is, an invitation for more; whatever more is. He hopes she takes the bait. 

“Yes I do actually! My parents own a bakery just outside the park.” Her enthusiasm is uplifting and the offer of a place so personal is a good sign in Tim’s book. “Let me show the way, and I could join you if you would like.”

“Perfect. That’s wonderful. It will be my treat since you’re going out of your way on my account.”

“Nonsense. Like I said, it’s my parents’ bakery. They’ll be more than happy to give some complimentary snacks.” She loops her arm around his and begins to drag him to the park gate. She’s strong and her grip is firm and Tim feels lightheaded at the ease with which she pulls him. He can’t help but be swept up in the tides that is this girl. 

“I’m Tim, by the way. Tim Drake.” He offers his name, something he should have done at the beginning.

She looks back at him over her shoulder and he’s caught up in the oceans of her eyes. They’re alight with joy. 

“Nice to meet you, Tim. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

“Nice to meet you too.”

They’re almost by the bakery now, he can smell the fresh baked goods from here, and he can’t wait to sit down and get to know this girl better. Maybe get her number by the end of their lunch.

Yeah. Tim was having a wonderful day.

[allalrightagain]

ONE GIANT FOLDER COMING YOUR WAY

Ooh a giant one you say?? Ok, here’s my DADA prof conspiracy theory:

(under a cut because I wrote you an essay. oops.)

SO! One of the biggest mysteries of the whole series is what on earth Dumbledore was thinking when he hired Gilderoy Lockhart of all people to teach 11-18 year olds defensive magic, especially the year after he confirms that Voldemort is definitely still around and kicking and trying desperately to come back to power/get to Harry. Obviously the last prof died etc etc and the “willing and able” population is extremely slim pickings after 30-40 years of needing a new person every year, so there might not be anyone who would actually say yes that Dumbledore was willing to take.

(This is true even when you consider the professors who do accept for the next few years— Moody and Slughorn come out of retirement to take it, Umbridge and the Carrows hardly make Dumbledore’s “Not a Chance in Hell” list, and Lupin, well... would he take the job? If Sirius had not broken out of Azkaban? Would Dumbledore have even offered it? More on this later!)

But there’s a war brewing, even if Dumbledore’s the only one who knows it, and he doesn’t do anything without thinking it through his General brain (though the same can’t always be said for his Politician or Professor brains).

So what on earth does Dumbledore gain by hiring Lockhart?

Well, he fills the spot, that’s for sure. Best case scenario, he skates by for a whole year, nobody dies, the kids maybe learn a little, and next year we do it all over again.

Except— Harry.

Dumbledore has already proven himself by this point to be relatively focused on Harry in particular and preparing him for the future, both skills/knowledge-wise and “virtue”-wise (ie having him live with muggles, not know about his fame etc). It seems strange to intentionally choose not to provide the best possible education (specifically in Defense Against the Dark Arts) to the kid you absolutely need to survive until he's old enough to die at the hands of the right person (or, since CoS takes place before Dumbledore encounters a horcrux, until Harry is old enough to kill Voldemort for good).

Once you start reading Dumbledore’s hiring choices specifically through the lens of teaching Harry in particular, they start to make a lot more sense.

(a quick note is needed here to mention that the books focus on Harry as the main character etc etc it’s a children’s book but the worldbuilding should still be able to stand on it’s own. Whatever. We’re taking a Watsonian explanation because it’s more fun.)

In order:

Quirrell is a test, and a trap— Dumbledore has set the stage: a bright young man just returned from the place Voldemort was cited having been in at least 2x; a magical object that grants immortality; and a virtually untested, unknown 11yo Harry. This is Dumbledore getting the lay of the land and verifying that Voldemort is in fact alive and that Harry can handle the path set for him. If Quirrell doesn’t end up possessed or otherwise working for Voldemort, then Dumbledore has found another ally against him

Lockhart on the other hand is a lesson, specifically in what not to do/be— Harry grows up as far away from fame as physically possible, and Dumbledore expresses concern that the fame within the wizarding world could get to his head on several occasions. So Dumbledore sees Harry at 11: modest, but with a habit of rule breaking, a Quidditch star, the potential for becoming comfortable with his role within this new society. And Dumbledore shows him the worst possible version of where he could end up if he lets it go to his head. Nothing screams “don’t rely on your fame” like Gilderoy Lockhart. (in as much of Dumbledore’s defense as I’m comfortable providing, this was literally the only year where he didn’t know in advance of the school year what exactly would make it a difficult/dangerous one, so he probably felt he could get away with someone who didn’t need to be able to defend the students. They were supposed to be safe.)

Lupin is bait, and education (!!)— There’s history there, and Dumbledore knows it. Remus draws in Sirius, so Dumbledore knows where he should be headed, and he should protect Harry if it came down to it (and if he doesn’t, then Remus ends up dead or in Azkaban and Dumbledore has shaken out another possible traitor). Remus is also there to teach Harry— about defending himself, which has become increasingly necessary— and to hold the same role he did in school: to keep Harry in check. A teacher who is specifically and singularly interested in Harry first and foremost is a teacher who might actually be able to keep a determined child of James (and Lily) from throwing himself in harms way, especially if information about Sirius gets out.

Moody (or well, Dumbledore’s hope for Moody) is protection and to train soldiers for a war— Again, Dumbledore knows what’s coming this year. Or at least like, 50%. He knows Karkaroff will be there, he knows Pettigrew ran off to Voldemort, and he knows these kids are nowhere prepared to fight in a war. If nothing else, hopefully Moody will scare someone straight.

Umbridge is obviously against Dumbledore’s will, but she does teach them all about politics (in the worst possible way)

Snape sets the stage— It’s part of Dumbledore’s final moves on the chessboard. It teaches Harry actual, useful magic (and is almost as good as Dumbledore teaching Harry what he needs to know directly). It’s NEWT level magic, specifically geared towards fighting a war that Harry, Dumbledore AND Snape (plus… literally everyone else) knows is happening. It sets Snape up to leave re: the curse, however he needs to in the moment where things start falling apart.

Bonus: Slughorn, gets the memory and scares Harry away from using his connections— Dumbledore knows he’s going to die. He knows this war won’t be finished by the time he does. He knows it’s going to rely on Harry finishing the horcrux hunt and doing it with enough of a martyr complex to walk to his death at the end. But he’s also set Harry up with a support system within the Order out of necessity and desperation less than a year ago. So what can Dumbledore do to ensure Harry doesn’t go to any/all of the adults in his life on the occasion of Dumbledore’s death, present them with the horcrux hunt and ask for help? He gives Harry Slughorn, who is the epitome of a Slytherin who knows how to use their resources, and he does so blatantly and without a shred of shame. Harry is supposed to look at him, assembling the Slug Club, bragging about tickets he’s gotten and correspondence he keeps, and think “I do not want to be like him.” Slughorn is supposed to isolate Harry from anyone who would tell him not to walk to his death, and, just like Lockhart makes Harry even more uncomfortable about his fame, it works because it perpetuates the abuse Harry has endured.

TL;DR: Dumbledore chooses DADA profs to teach Harry something specific, in the case of Lockhart (and Slughorn), it’s specifically a moral lesson on who not to be and what not to do

Send me a 📂 and I'll give you a useless/random headcanon

[dontloseyourpants]

Stripped on Stage

A commission I received from @gaystripstories! You can also find him on Twitter here. And you can support him by buying his stories on Amazon here.

I'll out the actual story below the cut. It's about a cocky young Broadway bound hunk who has an embarrassing incident on stage during his big debut. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!

Before the Show: 

Hey, just wanted to stop by and wish everyone a great show! 

A sea of blank faces stared up at him, but he kept plodding on to get the reaction that he  desired. Walking further into the crowded dressing room, he finally stopped right behind me. 

I miss the camaraderie of being packed down here with everyone… it’s so lonely having  that dressing room upstairs all to myself. I usually just spend time before shows lying on my  couch until first call. 

Looking up, I saw his face forcing itself into what he thought was a genuine smile. For  someone who was apparently a much better actor than our poor little show deserved, he really  had such a hard time hiding his true emotions. 

Roger Stilton had quickly made a name for himself on Broadway. A Julliard grad just  like his rich father, he headed straight to Broadway and began booking any role he wanted. With  leading man good looks, his slicked back dark hair, and a jawline that could cut steel, Roger  actually could have earned his roles without daddy’s donations. 

As I continued looking up at him, I realized two things. First, his blush was much too  heavy for a theater as small as this one. 

Roger, sit down- let me help you out a bit. Quickly standing up in my boxers and  undershirt, I let him plop into my chair before wiping a makeup wipe across that beautiful face.  Here’s a tip when you’re not sure how strong to make your blush- you have to see what it should  be naturally and then add two swipes. 

Quickly taking hold of the bottom of his t-shirt, I ripped it over his head to expose that  chest to the whole room. His perky pecs and six pack abs were to die over, but for some reason,  even with all of that narcissism, he didn’t like showing off his body. 

See- that’s the color you want. 

I saw his eyes connect with his reflection to see the blush covering his cheeks, and I  added a bit of my powder onto his face to match. Grabbing his shirt, he just awkwardly held it in  front of him before walking back out of the room with his parting words flung over his shoulder. 

Well, let me let you get back to getting ready… I just love having a great ensemble behind  me on stage. 

I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t. At least not for another week. He’d joined our show  after workshops, and even if I wouldn’t admit it, he was the reason we’d gotten our residency at  our off-Broadway theater. He was already booked for his next role in a few weeks in one of the  larger theaters, but if I had anything to do with it, I wanted to put his name in the news for  another reason. It was time to confirm the second thing that I realized once Roger walked in  here. 

Listen up. Every head turned back towards me this time, but unlike Roger, I could tell  that they wanted to hear what I had to say. I had a couple of decades on all of the younger actors 

around me, and they looked up to me since I’d give them actual advice. We’re a go for tonight.  Raise a hand if you’re in. 

Smiling to myself as I saw every hand quickly raise into the air, I knew that this would be  one show that Roger or the critics in the audience would never forget. I don’t know if Roger  knew that we’d picked up on it, but there was a lot of info that he gave away. He was using us as  a launch pad for some serious acting cred, and we were using him just as much. And for weeks  of workshops and performances, we existed together, but the last month had been different. He’d  starters treating us as disposable ensemble members even if the small cast all had named roles.  So, tonight, on the most important night of his run, we decided to get back at him. Looking up at  the timer on the ceiling above us, I realized that it was almost time for our first phase of the plan. 

Act 1: 

Look at him- if he wasn’t such a huge ass, he could really be the next big thing. Sorry- all I heard you say was huge ass, and I got distracted. 

Playfully slapping Sam on the arm, I kept watching Roger act as we waited for our cue.  Our show was a new take on the classic murder mystery, and each night, Roger dramatically died  on stage. The twist, the reason that we’d made it out of workshops, was that a new killer was  chosen each show. The audience could return night after night and still get a new experience  since we improved a lot and only kept core scenes consistent.  

This was one scene that was always the same, so Roger felt confident enough to ham it up as he looked at the two women in Row 2: The New Yorker and New York Times. They of  course had names, but Roger only knew them as the critics that he needed to impress. And he  truly was acting his ass off… and that was quite a challenge. Those dark gray slacks were barely  

stretched over that ample peach of a bottom, and I was reminded again that I was happy with the  game plan. And as he placed his glass of water back on the table, it was time for round 1.  

Natasha and Joslyn entered from stage left as Sam and I appeared from stage right, and in  a flurry of motion, we began bombarding him with questions.  

Sir, would you like the dinner menu? 

Please. 

Sir, would you like a wine list? 

That’d be delightful. 

Sir, would you like your water glass to be topped off? 

Certainly. 

Bending down, I poured the contents of my pitcher into his glass and across his chest. Oh monsieur, I am so sorry- let’s get you out of those wet clothes immediately. 

Patting him down with the hand towel, Sam walked behind him and began unbuttoning  Roger’s shirt. In utter shock, Roger just sat there staring at the pitcher that I’d laid down in front  of him- the one that looked completely normal. In every other show, a special prop had been  used that only held half a cup of water, but tonight, it looked like I’d grabbed the wrong pitcher  from the props table accidentally.  

There we go- we’ll have this dried and steamed before you even get the dessert menu…  not that it looks like you eat dessert often.  

He tried to cover his exposed chest as we left stage, but the tiny menu couldn’t cover  much. If he pulled it down, he exposed his perky pecs with his dark brown nipples shining under  the harsh lights, and if he pulled it up, you could see the happy trail disappearing into his pants.  As we all stood offstage in one giggling group, we watched the switch flip over in his head. He 

had just made the choice- he could either be embarrassed about being half naked on stage, or he  could continue acting so that the critics would write about how he powered through adverse  conditions. And he chose the second option… at least for now.

Act 2: 

After improving some line about remembering that he had a spare suit in his car, he  quickly walked off stage with his muscular back facing the audience. Once he disappeared into  the curtain, he began quietly yelling for the prop master, but he was nowhere to be found. Also  gone was the random rack of clothes that had been hiding in the wings for decades, so as he  rushed around, Roger only had time to grab someone’s suit coat and walk back on stage. 

Darling! Is it my birthday already? I thought I wouldn’t get my present until tomorrow. 

With her quick change successfully completed unlike her costar, Natasha was in a skin  tight dress and now playing Roger’s girlfriend. Walking circles around him, she began to  massage his tense body, and it seemed to be having an undesired effect on his lower half.  

Can I unwrap my present early?  

I’m so sorry love, but the weirdest thing happened at dinner earlier. I had time to grab a  spot of food before coming here, and then…  

As he began to sit down, the small blazer completely ripped down the middle, and the  ruined fabric fell in two pieces down each arm. Natasha was really hamming it up now as she  jumped up from the prop bed to kneel in front of her blushing boyfriend.  

I was joking before, but what else is about to come off? Did you somehow trade outfits  with a stripper? 

That time in the gym must have really filled out my shoulders.  

Then flex for me, Romeo. Let me see that body that’s all mine.  

Doing as told, Roger stood up and began to flex his muscles as he faced the audience. His  tanned chest seemed to glow under the lights, and I heard the audience getting into it more now.  If there were any repeat customers here, then they knew what normally happened here. Natasha  would have her birthday party, and in the commotion, Roger would meet his demise. But that  always happened fully clothed. 

Roger’s biceps were glistening in sweat, and his trimmed chest hair was as well. He was  breathtakingly gorgeous, and if only he wasn’t so cocky, we would have all adored him. As I saw  that blush spread further across those beautiful cheekbones, I wondered if there was something  more human under there. Just maybe… 

Oh, I just can’t resist anymore- come ravish me!  

With strength that I didn’t know she had, Natasha pulled Roger towards her as they fell  into the throes of passion on top of that bed. The audience was losing it as Natasha’s legs  comically kicked into the air before wrapping around Roger’s ample ass. She was kissing him all  over as Roger tried to break free for his cue. 

Oh honey, that special suit jacket wasn’t the only birthday surprise that I had planned. In  fact…

And this is where everything went so, so right. Roger lunged into a standing position  without even feeling Natasha’s fingers hook into the two small holes that had come undone on  each side of his tearaway pants. I don’t know how he hadn’t noticed earlier that we’d swapped them out before the show, but they’d stayed together right until they were needed.  

In comical slow motion, the back half of his pants fell to the floor as the front stayed  gripped in her hands.  

You got me exactly what I wanted! 

As Natasha jumped to meet him, we all started streaming on stage, holding balloons and  shooting party streamers into the air. The only one that was still was Roger who was somehow so  very, very visible in the middle of all of this chaos. With his pants gone, he was now standing  there in only his shoes, his nylon socks held up with leather garters on those strong calves, and  an impossibly tiny pair of baby blue bikini briefs that were trying their hardest to stretch over his  large frame.  

We all took a cue from the audience and focused on Roger as he stood petrified on stage.  His hands hung limply at his side, too embarrassed to even move them to cover up his impressive  bulge and thick pubes that were showing over the stretched waistband. You could have heard a  pin drop in the eerie quiet before one camera flash went off from the audience followed by  several more. I saw our one underpaid usher try to stop the cameras, but it was too late.  

Finally urged into action as he saw how many photos of him would soon end up online,  Roger finally spun around to try to find his pants, his jacket- just anything to cover himself up  with. Seeing the bed sheet that had been flung into the floor, he reached to grab it, but I was too  quick and stepped onto it to keep him from getting it.  

Standing back up, he had rage in his eyes as he looked at me, and he had no idea that  even more photos were taken now of him. From the back, his tiny briefs had been wedged  between those glorious cheeks, and he was exposing almost every inch of skin that he could.  

It was you- you’re the one that did it! 

He was about five minutes early with that line, but Roger’s embarrassment had finally  taken over his need to impress the critics. That was usually what he said when he discovered who  the killer was right before falling to the ground, but now, he was saying it to me even though  Joslyn was the one who’d dropped the ‘poison’ into his pasta in the previous scene.  

What are you talking about? It’s me- your best friend! 

A best friend wouldn’t do this on the most important night of their life! 

Reaching forward, he grabbed onto my shirt and yanked it apart. Buttons went flying as  my own chest was exposed to the crowd. My mouth was trying to hard not to break into a smirk  behind my trimmed salt and pepper beard as I backed away from Roger. Following me back  under the lights, he just kept going. 

You’ve always been jealous of me- my career, my body, everything! Do you know how  hard I’ve fought for this? Do you?  

He truly believed the words that he was saying even though he’d never had to go to an  open casting call in a crowded building downtown. He’d never had to squeeze into a borrowed  pair of LaDucas and dance for hours just to be told that they’d gone in a different direction. Oh  no, Roger had never felt rejection like that which is what would make what happened next even  sweeter.  

He lunged at me, and we fell in a heap on the floor. The audience, even the return  viewers, probably had no idea that anything had gone wrong. Everything we’d done had been in  character, and only one thing would be able to prove to them that this show had gone off the  rails.  

Roger’s body was gyrating around on top of me, but he never landed a punch. He wasn’t  angry enough for that, but he was too flustered to even know what to do. He couldn’t handle this  humiliation, and he was just lashing out. And then, it all stopped. As we tussled, we both heard  the pop and froze. It could have been anything, but we both knew exactly what it was. 

The Final Bow: 

And the award goes to Roger Stilton! 

The cameras all swung towards him as he tried to duck down into his seat. This is not  how he wanted awards season to go. He had just lost the Best Actor award for his starring role in  Thoroughly Modern Millie, and he was about to go to the bar until he heard his name called  again. Looking up at the big screen, he saw the category that he didn’t even know that he was  nominated for- Best Quick Change.  

With the DramaDesk award in hand, the late-night talk show host who had no business  being here walked on stage. I was sitting on the side in the cheap seats, but I could still see  everything. The last time that I’d seen Roger was when I’d been lying shirtless beneath him. I  watched as he sat motionless in his chair, and he only got up once the screen started playing a  video from that night.  

He was kneeling on top of me, and as we wrestled, the tiny strap on the right side of his bikini briefs popped right off. With his ass aimed right towards the camera, his pendulous cock  fell into view between his legs, and he tried to cover himself unsuccessfully with his hands. As  he moved, the rest of his underwear fell apart and landed on my chest leaving him completely  

naked.  

Standing up, he kept spinning around, turning one way and then the other to hide his  embarrassment. His hands were clasped over his manhood which left that ass completely  exposed. His tight waist made his bubble butt even more impressive, and the untanned skin acted  as a beacon for everyone’s eyes and cameras. I’d watched this scene dozens of times from the  comfort of my own apartment, but as Roger walked on stage to confront the host, I realized that  he probably had tried to forget this ever happened.  

When Audra Macdonald won earlier, she serenaded us with a few bars. Roger, what do  you plan on showing off to this crowd? 

The crowd was going wild, but unlike that fateful night, the crowd was over five times  bigger and full of people that Roger wanted to impress. He tried to put on a fake laugh and grab  the award, but even from this far away, I could see how strong that blush was as the host kept  going.  

No seriously, I think we need you to show it off! What does everyone here think?  

I let my cheer join the crowd as we egged him on, but he still wasn’t budging. And then,  the host looked right at me, and I pinched myself to see if this was all a dream.  

Do we need your old costar to come help out? He knows his way around this stage since  he’s performed here a few times. Come on up! 

The spotlight hit me, and now it was my time to feel a little shy. I’d been a background  dancer here in a few awards show opening numbers, but I’d never been up there individually.  Would my big break come decades later than it should have? 

Stepping on stage, I saw Roger’s heart drop, and my nerves suddenly vanished. He let the  host turn him around, and I realized that he was petrified again.  

Make me change my mind, Roger. Why shouldn’t I expose you again for how you treated  us on that show? 

Tommy, please, don’t do it.  

I could have been nice and joked around with him as we walked offstage to pretend like  this was a planned bit. But, he messed up.  

Roger, you didn’t even learn the names of your costars. My name is David- Tommy  worked the sound board.  

And before he could react, I grabbed onto those tuxedo pants and yanked them to the  ground. The button ripped off easily, and they gave me no resistance before sliding down to his  ankles. He’d learned his lesson from earlier and was wearing a pair of black trunks, but I still had  a little bit of humiliation left to give him. I could and should have stopped there, but I didn’t.  Grabbing onto his waistband, I pulled his undies to the floor and stepped back to let him have the  spotlight all to himself like he desperately wanted.  

His half-naked body was projected onto the big screen again but in real time now. His  ample, untanned ass still jutted out from his athletic body, and as he tried to bend down and grab  his pants, it jiggled with every movement.  

Looking down into the audience, I somehow made eye contact with Jan, the critic that  Roger always referred to as The New Yorker sitting not too far from where I’d been seated. As  she began typing onto her phone, I realized that Roger would get that big headline after all.

[cleanlenins]

Ectober Day 2: Scream

He Just Screams Uncool

Ectober Day 2: Scream

During Fright Knight, Mr. Lancer gets sent to a fear dimension after being stabbed by Soulshredder. What would have happened if Dash had gotten stabbed? What would his fear dimension look like?

AO3

Warnings: Light body horror

Dash trembled, covering his ears and crushing his eyes closed. He cowered in a corner, unable to muster the courage to move. This wasn't real. This wasn't real. This wasn't real .

Freaky Fenton must have done something. He was so desperate to win the stupid Haunted House competition that he had cheated. Yeah, that must be what he had done. He had gotten help. Maybe he didn't even do any of it himself. Not that Dash had done anything himself either-

He heard a distant laughter and crushed his palms against his ears. He didn’t want to hear it anymore.

Leave it to the freak to come up with something like this.

He whimpered as he heard the laughter get closer, pressing harder into the corner. The brick walls digging into his arm. He thought back and tried to find some explanation for this madness.

Dash had already won. He knew it. He could see on Lancer’s face as he showed off his room. There was no way Fenton could top this. Fenton’s room was a joke, just like everything else about the loser. It was just up to Mr. Lancer to say the final words.

And then...what had happened? Dash can't remember. It was all so hazy, like trying to remember a fading dream. Someone had shown up, dressed in armor and face obscured in darkness. He almost remembered the horrifying feeling of metal sliding through his chest. But he checked and he was whole. There was no wound. No blood. No pain-

One minute Dash had been standing next to Lancer, the next he was suddenly outside the school? How did he get there? And it was daylight?  Dash blinked at the sudden light. It was crowded with students milling around, but he immediately spotted Paulina and Kwan. His friends could never be mistaken for the normal geeks and freaks that populated the school. Both of their backs were turned to him. Maybe they would know what had happened.

Dash had walked up to the duo, raising his hand to clap Kwan on the shoulder with a cocky grin. The smirk melted away as his hand went through Kwan's arm. Dash stared at his hand, completely dumbfounded. Frozen in place in his confusion. Was he tripping? He didn’t remember taking anything. Then Paulina and Kwan turned and walked through him. Dash gasped at the foreign feeling, like the ice baths he and the team would take after training. Except the cold was under his skin. Under his muscles. Like his bones were made of snow and mist. And then it was gone.

“Guys!” Dash shouted in surprise, but neither Kwan nor Paulina turned to face him. Neither showed any signs of even seeing him. They continued to walk up the path. Dash ran to cut them off, waving his hands in front of their faces. Neither blinked. Dash tried to block their way but once more they walked right through him. He bit his lip, scanning around the school ground for any other familiar faces.

He rushed over to Valerie and tried to grab her shoulder, intent on spinning the girl around to look at him. But once more his hand went through. Star gestured wildly and her hand went through Dash’s head. He flinched away from the uncomfortable feeling. Dale threw his football through the air, and instead of catching it, Dash watched it pass through his chest before nailing that nerd Mickey in the head. Dash couldn’t even take pleasure in the nerd’s broken glasses.

He wasn’t panicking. No, he would never panic. He was the school star for heaven's sake. The hero of Casper. He wouldn’t be beaten by some freaky trick. He started screaming, yelling for someone to notice him. He tried to grab people. Tried to throw books and binders. Yelled expletives in their faces. Tried to punch random people. He definitely didn’t cry, no, those weren’t tears. He was just sweating. His heart was pounding against his chest from the running, not fear. His scream broke off as he choked down a sob. No, it wasn’t a sob! He leaned heavily against the flag poles, somehow not falling through them. He glanced around the grounds in despair. He was at a loss. He was...losing?

His eyes snapped to a trio not that far from him. He focused on Fenton, who seemed to be engrossed in a conversation with Foley. Dash nearly growled in anger, before marching over to Fenton.

Fenton seemed to shudder as he approached, a cold mist floating from his mouth. Typical freak weirdness. The smaller teen looked up and met Dash’s eye. Instead of cowering in fear, a wide grin split Fenton’s face. Dash flushed in rage.

“What did you do, Fenton?”

“What do you mean?” Fenton asked, grin widening even more.

“Why is everyone acting like they can’t see me? Why can’t I touch anything? If this is something your weirdo parents made-” Dash stuttered to a stop as he watched Fenton’s smile only grow wider, every tooth on display and...were his teeth sharper than usual?

“What do you mean no one can see you, Dash?” Fenton tilted his head, unblinking eyes seemed to be staring directly into his soul. The pupils were blown wide, only hinting at a circle of blue around the black. “I can see you. I have always been able to see you.”

Fenton took a step. Dash swallowed as he took a step away. Fenton’s grin grew even wider. Impossibly wide. Could mouths even reach that wide?

“W-what’s that supposed to mean, you freak?” Dash stuttered as he put distance between him and the nerd. Fenton continued to stroll, a very low chuckle.

“That’s why you don’t like me, Dash. Because I can see you for who you are and who you will be,” Fenton giggled. “A nobody.”

“J-just-Shut up, Fenturd!” Dash tried to hold his ground, balling his hands into fists to hide the tremors.

“You know that someday they are going to see it, too. See you for the nothing you are. Stupid, useless, boring, lame-the list goes on, doesn’t it? You had hoped it would be after high school, but I guess everyone just came to their senses sooner than you thought, Dash .”

Dash lashed out, as he always did when he was afraid. He was expecting the satisfying crunch of his fist against Fenton’s nose. But his fist went right through Fenton’s grinning face. The smaller teen stepped to the side. He reached up and gently grabbed Dash’s wrist. Dash tried to rip it away, but found that Fenton’s hold was stronger than iron. He grunted as he yanked his arm, but Fenton didn’t budge.

“The only thing really good about you is all this strength, isn’t it?” Fenton asked, a cruel excitement in his eyes. “But that won’t last, will it?”

Like the rippling of wind on grain, the skin around Dash’s wrist began to change. Tanned and smooth skin became translucent and liver spotted. Chiseled muscle seemed to deflate and loose skin hung from the bone in a wrinkly mass. The effect flowed up from his wrist to his elbow, as Dash screamed in horror. He once more tried to pull away from Fenton, this time with success as he fell and sprawled on his back. He sobbed and he tried to crawl backwards away, Fenton giggled down at him with hand still aloft. Dash felt tears overflow, he glanced down at his arm which still held it’s withered appearance.

Fenton took a step forward, and Dash’s eyes were back on him.

“Are you crying, Baxter?” Fenton laughed. “Well, that just screams uncool doesn’t it? Don’t worry. You don’t have to cry for long.”

Fenton took another step closer, and Dash was on his feet. He sprinted away, cradling his arm and screaming for help. Anyone. Help him. Please. Someone save him. But while the school had been full of people before, now there was no one. Dash sprinted around the school building, making his way to the brick storage building. He fumbled with the latch, before ripping open the door. Closing it quickly behind him, he shoved himself as far into the room as he could, leaning up against the cold corner of the brick wall. He tried to muffle his sobs, his hands trembling. He listened hard, waiting. Waiting to see if Fenton would find him. Tears flowed freely as he scrunched up his eyes.

So here he was. Trembling in fear of the kid he usually beat to a pulp, with no explanation for his change in fate. He waited, tense as a bowstring, as he heard Fenton calling his name. Taunting him. Laughing. When the voice came close, he held his breath and bit down on his unwithered hand to try and muffle the noise of his chattering teeth. He heard the latch on the door wiggle, creating an eerie squeak into the silence and Dash swallowed a scream. Dash waited with baited breath to see if the door opened. The clack of the rusted metal latch continued, the door remaining closed. Eventually, the noise stopped, the latch thudding against the wooden door. Dash heard Fenton laugh as he passed by. Footsteps inaudible through the thick brick walls. Dash waited, sure that Fenton would come back to unstick the latch. Sure he would come back to continue whatever sick game he was playing. But he didn’t. Finally, Dash felt safe enough to let out a cautious breath. He clamped his eyes shut, trying to calm his racing heart and block out the reality around him.

“Found you,” A voice whispered in his ear. Dash looked up to see Fenton, inches from his face, half of his body phased through the wall. Dash screamed, nowhere to run as Fenton reached one hand towards him.

“Mr. Baxter! Dash! You’re okay! It wasn’t real!” Mr. Lancer backed away from the screaming football star. Mr. Baxter scooted into the wall, eyes wide as he continued to scream and cover his face. Mr. Lancer glanced at Mr. Fenton and Miss Manson, who stared at their classmate in a mixture of concern and guilt. “One of you two should go and find a phone so I can contact his parents. “

“Right,” Miss Manson agreed. She locked eyes with Mr. Fenton, before rushing back through the haunted house.

Mr. Lancer tried to calm Mr. Baxter down. But the boy just continued to scream incomprehensible nonsense, clutching his arm to his body in such a way that Mr. Lancer was growing concerned that he had hurt himself. Mr. Lancer tried to distract him, tried to get him to get him to focus on something other than whatever it was that was scaring him.

But Dash Baxter would not look away from Danny Fenton.

[unlocktxt]

in the darkness of tomorrow | c.yj

choi yeonjun x female reader

series masterlist :

prologue | part one | part two

genre: royal au, fluff, angst

description: the selection is happening once more to find a wife for prince yeonjun. y/n swears to hate the royal family, but when it’s time for the prince to choose a wife, she gets tied up in the mess.

note: this is inspired from the book the selection by kiera cass, however even though i use some of the ideas there are major differences.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: mentions being whipped and starved

tag list: @binniebutter @nshitae

this was the first time you had ever felt heartbreak. your heart has been a constant reminder that daniel ended things days ago. it haunted you, even as you passed by all of the bright faces in the city.

it seemed like heartbreak wasn’t enough for you. the world had to punish you some more by the announcement made yesterday. the news spread fast around town that day, “the selection application was required for all women of a given age.” you happened to be a part of that age group.

you doubted that the prince would choose you to even be considered as one of the options, but what if’s filled your mind. you still weren’t ready to let go of daniel. right now you wished you would’ve stayed to hear what he wanted to say, but now it was impossible.

you did anything to get your mind off of his frozen blue eyes, including thinking of the prince. unlike everyone else, you thought that prince yeonjun felt a little too entitled. single, willing women weren’t enough for him so he had to make those whose hearts belonged to someone else apply. unlike all the bright faces hoping to be picked, you didn’t want to be one of his little playthings.

they say that the selection was unbiased, but most people knew that wasn’t true. many girls who were unfortunate enough to be in castes five and lower, where they could hardly or not even make ends meet, rarely ever got picked and they were the ones who needed it most. you could stay a four and bake pastries all your life if it meant the people in castes lower than you could afford food.

besides, you had seen first hand what this kingdom has done and you didn’t agree. you would be caught dead before you ever bowed to their spoiled and corrupt system.

“hey mom!” you put on a small smile to please her worried eyes when you walked into the bakery. her small streaks of grey hair added to her beauty.

“i’m so sorry sweetie. i know how much you didn’t want to apply.” her shoulders relaxed, but she continued to place out new baked goods.

you let out a sigh, “yeah well... it doesn’t matter. it’s not like i’ll get picked.” you smiled at the thought. it was all just a waste of time.

your mom stopped, placing the basket of bread on the counter. “it’s supposed to be random... we never know.”

you furrowed your brows and laughed a bit, while giving your mom a look that said “really?” she smiled, shaking her head to acknowledge that you were probably right.

“anyways... where’s dad and taehyun?” you didn’t see or hear them in the bakery.

your mom looked up at you and for a moment she looked distant before returning to her warm demeanor. you caught the change but decided not to bring it up.

“going on an errand,” she responded simply before filling the basket of bread with a few cakes.

she wasn’t going to give you the chance to ask, but you didn’t mind. you knew she’d tell you later.

“so... this arranged engagement with taehyun.” you looked to the side while preparing your face for a whistle.

“you know he’s a great boy and he’s a doctor... a three. he also helps to manage the orphanage with the eights. he’s a great boy y/n.” your mom looked disappointed when you looked back at her.

“it’s just... when does a four ever get put in an arranged marriage. plus...” you looked down at your hands where your fingers were playing with each other, “what if... i could love someone else.” your eyes glistened at the thought of daniel always waiting for you on that tree branch. you didn’t know what caste he was in... even if he was an eight you’d be willing to be homeless with him... although now he’d be a two... all because of the draft.

your mom sighed as your little sister, seoyeon walked in. “that’s enough for now y/n. take this basket to the orphanage.”

seoyeon was all muddy, indicating how she came inside after playing around in the dirt. you grabbed the basket harshly, trying to show your mom that this was not over.

“can i go with?” seoyeon asked, looking at mom. your mom slightly nodded, so you took seoyeon’s hand in yours. you resisted the urge to glare at your mom before smiling at seoyeon.

“okay... we have to get to the orphanage... what’s the best route?” you asked your sister who wore a sly grin before pulling you out of the door.

seoyeon rushed towards the river as she pulled you along. it was your little secret space that no one visited. the two of you had been running for quite a while, slowly passing by fewer and fewer people.

once the two of you made it to the river, seoyeon balanced on the thin makeshift bridge with her arms sticking out. she wobbled here and there but made it over. you followed soon after, carrying the basket in your hand and making sure to avoid any wet slippery spots on the bridge. seoyeon laughed as you made your way over to her.

“hurry slowpoke!” she called before running off into the field.

you shook your head before fastening your pace. once you got off the bridge you took off into a sprint. by the time you caught up to her she was already at the orphanage and you were panting. that was one thing about seoyeon, for small legs she could sure as hell run.

“it’s about time.” she giggled as she took in your bent-over body. “i was starting to think i should’ve carried the basket.”

you rolled your eyes, waving her off before you straightened up. seoyeon had already run off to play with the kids her age. when you walked in there were a few kids and teenagers around your age sitting towards the entrance.

“are taehyun and jihyun around?” you asked, looking around to see if you had missed them in the small orphanage. all you could see at the moment was how it needed to be remodeled, like many things in this area.

“taehyun left a long while ago, but you could probably find jihyun upstairs if you like.” one of the teenage girls, who you knew to be yui, spoke. you nodded before moving towards the kitchen area to place to basket down, with a little note not to eat more than one.

you knew how hard it was for taehyun and jihyun to keep this orphanage up and running. it was hard to get everyone here a proper meal. taehyun nearly passed out from exhaustion when he came to visit your family. he had given up plenty of food just so those who were sick could eat enough.

you made sure to get the plates and napkins out to remind them not to leave the bread lying in unsanitary areas. once you felt your job had been done, you went upstairs to their office. unlike most days the door was closed. you knew something was wrong and the sniffling coming from the room only confirmed your suspicions.

you hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door and letting yourself in. jihyun’s sorrowful eyes burned through yours, making your heart drop.

“y/n thank god you’re here.” she cried before attacking you in a hug. you rubbed circles on her back to try and get her to calm down.

“what happened?” you asked softly, scared this question might break her.

she sniffled, “o-one of the boys-” she let out a sob and you continued to try and soothe her.

“it’s okay you don’t have to say anything.” at this point you moved one of your hands to her head and rested it there.

“n-no he... he stole some meat and they’re going to whip him y/n. they’re going to whip him. he’s only seven!” she cried looking at you in your eyes. she was pleading, pleading for you to do anything. you weren’t sure you could.

“where’s taehyun?” you asked looking around, maybe he went to help. maybe that’s what he and your dad were doing.

“i don’t know.” she finally calmed a bit, hiccuping here and there. “he left before we received the news.”

you were left to wonder what the two were doing, but you didn’t have time for that.

“i promise i’ll go help the boy.” you gave jihyun a determined look. “what’s his name?” you asked halfway out the door.

“hak hyunwoo.” she barely whispered it, probably ashamed. you gave her a reassuring smile before leaving and finding seoyeon.

by the time you had arrived back home they already were gathering people around the city to witness the poor boys' punishment.

“what is your name boy?” the masked man shouted more to the crowd than to the boy. you had been struggling to get closer to the wooden post.

“hak hyunwoo.” he was crying, his tears wouldn’t stop flooding. he had nobody to watch out for him.

“and what is your crime?” the masked man yelled out once more.

hyunwoo was silent before speaking. “theft.” it was quiet.

“your punishment will be...” he waited to see if the crowd of people would react. only a few weren’t excited, it was disgusting how many people were cheering. everyone was just sitting back... watching.

“thirty strikes to the back!” there was a roar in the crowd, but the noise died out in your mind. that was way too much...

you pushed even harder, “stop!” you screamed, but no one could hear you over the crowd. you saw them grabbing the whip, only making you lunge forward, forgetting about hurting the people in the crowd. you stumbled forward after reaching the front. it didn’t matter if he was an eight, you had to help him.

“wait!” you screamed, now where the two in charge of this could hear. the guards were watching you with cautious eyes.

“miss you can’t intervene.” one man standing to the side had said.

you took a deep breath. “this boy did nothing wrong. can’t you see he’s malnourished? the kingdom failed this poor boy... they’re the ones at fault.” you had to try anything. everyone gasped as you accused the royal family of this boy's actions.

“if you must punish someone. punish me, but theft does not deserve thirty strikes to the back.” everyone's eyes were on you, making you nervous. you never really asked for attention, but here you were gaining it.

the masked man was staring at you, no doubt glaring. “fine. get up here.” he nearly threw kyunwoo off of the tiny stage.

you were surprised that worked, you were just desperate, but now you would have to face the consequences. as you walked past the little boy you told him to run home, which he did. that gave you a little comfort.

“what is your name?” the masked man was seething.

“kim y/n.” you tried to sound brave and strong, but you couldn’t help the waver in your voice.

before he could do anything else, more soldiers rushed toward the tiny wooden stage.

“you mustn’t hurt this young lady. she’s been selected and the prince would like to see her now.”

you weren’t sure which guard had said it. you were stricken with shock. tears threatened to fall and you didn’t know whether it was from the relief of not getting whipped or because you’d have to leave everyone to be a plaything for prince yeonjun.

guards had escorted you back home. you were still in a daze from the information, even as your little sister cheered for you. your mom was the only one to snap you out of the trance.

“i’m sorry sweetie... just know that we will all be waiting and ready for anything that happens. we will support you no matter what.” she rubbed your shoulder as you stared at all of the paperwork in front of you.

there had been a palace worker standing beside you stating the rules and how the caste systems worked as if you didn’t know.

ones were royalty and family of royals. twos were celebrities, soldiers, and politicians. threes were people who worked pretty stable jobs like teaching and nursing. fours were business owners. fives were musicians and entertainers. sixes were those who helped others with jobs. sevens were mainly outdoor workers. then there were eights... these people were mainly cast out of society.

staring at the paper only made you even more frustrated. you were practically signing your life away for the possibility of being a three or one if you’re “lucky.”

everyone had to be virgins, single, and if caught in a relationship could be met with death. you rolled your eyes once more thinking about how it wasn’t optional this year. you guess it was a good thing daniel never asked you out and ended things.

then the man said that it’d be ill-advised to refuse anything the prince asked. that confirmed your suspicions, you were practically being sold off to a spoiled brat. the only one who could send you home was the prince himself and no one got a say in what the prince did.

of course, everyone had to be civil and not fight, but you had to wear what the palace gave you, nothing else. one of the worst things was that you couldn’t leave the palace on your own accord. you’d be trapped and watched for the entertainment of the show.

there was one last thing about being one of the last 10. it meant you were the elite, but you doubted that would ever be you. with that... you signed your love away.

your mom was the one to give the signed paper to the man at the front door who had been waiting to take your paper to the palace. she was going to see you off because your dad still wasn’t back yet.

“wait y/n!” seoyeon ran towards you, hugging your legs tightly. “are you going to be a princess?” her eyes lit up when she asked. you couldn’t crush her.

“maybe... that’s up to the prince.” and that was the truth. you didn’t have a choice, but you’d do everything in your power to leave.

it seemed every choice was being made for you as you followed the palace worker, the guards following behind.

the ride to the palace was slow and lonely. you were forced to look longingly at the forest, regretting not saying goodbye to daniel. you thought of all the things you wanted to say to him.

i’ll wait for you because i love you.

we can get through this.

please don’t leave me.

i can’t live without you.

be safe.

at that moment all you knew was that you had to find him somehow and he’d be in the palace. maybe staying for just a little bit wouldn’t be that bad if you could find him.

when you saw the large palace nausea rested in your throat and stomach. you don’t know why he called you here this early, but it couldn’t be good. all the other girls would be arriving tomorrow morning as they had announced.

it was weird being escorted in, but your nerves were exploding within you. you weren’t ready to see royalty. you vowed to die before you bowed before them, but here you were walking straight in and scanning the area. all you managed to see were maids and soldiers around, giving you another few moments of the pride you were willing to die for.

you were passed off to three maids who had been waiting for you.

“it’s amazing to meet you lady y/n.” the title made your face crunch with distaste.

“please... just call me y/n.” your voice was quiet, not allowing yourself to be comfortable in an unknown area.

“we can’t do that miss.” the shortest of the three informed, making you close your eyes and pray to the heavens that you would be able to survive this.

“okay then... may i know your names?” the three of them looked at each other before the one who led the path spoke up.

“i’m aeri, she's isuel, and that’s minsuh” aeri pointed at each of them. you noted that the shortest one, issue, was probably the youngest. you only nodded in response as they led you further into the palace, upstairs, and down long hallways.

“this will be your room,” aeri announced, opening the door to reveal a large room with many small details on the furniture. it was a bit much, but you didn’t expect anything less from people at the top of the caste system.

“we have to get you dressed because the prince will be seeing you soon.” minsuh rushed over towards the large wardrobe, that when opened revealed many different dresses. all of them... dresses.

“i say we should put you in the pink one!” iseul shouted, excited. the other two nodded enthusiastically, but you were too defeated to protest.

it was almost as if prince yeonjun had been waiting the whole time because as soon as they zipped you up, a knock came from the door. all of the maids ran to the door, leaving your pleading eyes behind.

“your majesty.” was all you heard before a few mumbling and giggling. they rushed out immediately and prince yeonjun replaced them. his hair was dyed pink now, making you wish you protested the dress’s color. your maids were sly.

your heart was pacing, scared from the uncertainty.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you lady y/n.” there it was again. the title you wanted to get away from.

“the pleasure is all mine.” you tried to hide the sarcasm in your voice as you stood strong in front of him. don’t you dare waver.

“i heard you got into some trouble today... i’d like to discuss that.” he was calm, every word held a hidden strength behind it. this was why he called you here early.

“i’d hardly call it trouble.” you stopped to watch him step closer to you. you wanted to tell him to stay away, not get close to touching you, but you kept quiet.

“oh really? you don’t call asking to be punished for someone else’s crimes trouble?” he was standing right in front of you now, but he was relaxed and wore a soft smile. he found this humoring. it was anything but.

“i call that two innocent people paying for a kingdoms failure.” the words slipped out before you could hold them back, but you didn’t regret them. not when you saw how prince yeonjun backed away, looking to the side.

“innocent? he was a thief.” yeonjun looked back at you, determined and unwavering. two could play at that game.

you walked towards him this time. a power move. “the world is not all black and white. he was a young boy, an orphan that was placed as an eight. your rules are the reason he was starving, leaving no option but stealing.” you were glaring now, trying to ignore the fact you had to look up at him.

he didn’t seem to want to back down either. “yet if we let one person steal something what’s stopping others?” he leaned his face closer to yours, noses only inches apart.

don’t you dare give in.

“if higher castes can pay their way out of punishment, why don’t the lower castes get a chance?” at this point, you couldn’t move any closer, but you could spit on him. that was only a passing thought to entertain you.

prince yeonjun was quiet after that, staring into your eyes as if he was trying to search through every part of your life. it felt interrogating. he hadn’t responded, so you took that as his loss and back away.

“is that all you wanted to discuss?” your voice was quieter now, not accusatory.

“for now... but you might want to learn some respect.” and then he left you to be swallowed in your anger.

part 2 sneak peak:

the castle had been dark for a while. all day today you were looking around for a familiar face, one that didn’t seem to show.

the creaking of your door alerting you of a new presence. you swore you told everyone you’d like to sleep peacefully tonight, but here they were interrupting you.

“princ-”

“i heard you’ve been looking for me.” you could recognize that voice anywhere. the playfulness in his tone lit your heart on fire.