#there were a bunch. didn't find anything that chose between counters
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BIG news from Duskmourn today
You see this? Yeah, I'm sure you can tell right away how big of a deal this is. This is absolutely game-changing. And if you can't tell why, this ought to clear things up
That's right. They changed the templating for choosing a kind of counter to put on a creature! The new template is so much better, so much more concise! I mean just look at this before and after:
Even after increasing the font size it STILL shaved off a line of text! Beautiful!
#original#after i started writing this post i found out that they actually changed the template way earlier back in Lord of the Rings#but that was a different template that still used “your choice of”#then they slightly changed it again in Doctor Who#but this template is the SHORTEST YET! so yeah#you can see the old templates by searching oracle:“put your choice” on scryfall#i did some searching to see if the new template was used anywhere else but there's no distinctive words in the new template#so first i looked through everything that wrote “+1/+1 counter” in a weird way#like “or +1/+1” or “+1/+1 or” and also stuff with commas that i can't write here. didn't find anything#so then i looked through everything with “counter” and “ or ” but not “+1/+1”#there were a bunch. didn't find anything that chose between counters#eventually i reached Fallout (which used the Doctor Who template) so i knew there was nothing#so yeah this is the first use of this new shortest template
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I kind of just want to ramble about the spell scene because I really liked the spell scene
it was pretty spooky. I dug it.
I was really curious how they were going to cover that whole confrontation, considering it's fairly long and we'd seen all the dialogue before, but having Torbin fading in and out was both a great way to cover the runtime and added to the creepy factor.
It's also interesting we don't actually see his perspective on the spell itself: this seems to just all be the lead-up, the way Aniseya gets past his defenses. It cuts out of his perspective once she fully takes over and I wonder what the actual spell felt like. It doesn't look particularly comfortable, but also maybe it was just like skipping forward in time, like missing a beat.
I am so happy they stuck with Torbin's big secret desire Aniseya was exploiting being...literally to just go home. For like a split second I was afraid they were going to imply there was like a secret lover back on Coruscant or take it in a different direction (especially after uh, stuff last week...), but nope, kid was just really homesick. (Confirmed in the Nerdist interview, literally no other implications other than a kid being like 'I want out of this situation, I want to go back to Coruscant' welcome back Reath Silas.)
I could probably break down a whole bunch of how Aniseya wore him down, from picking information about his past out of his mind, stoking his fear and feeling of being trapped ('do you want to escape this planet'), to being forced to submit by asking her, inviting her in...argh there's so much.
Also for a bit I was like, Aniseya, you made a bit of a tactical error with this move. And I still think that it was technically a mistake but I also completely get why she did it and why she thought it would work.
First off, the mistake aspect: I mean right off the bat, it is a violation and an escalation and that's not a great opening move. Seeing Torbin's perspective makes it clear Aniseya starts working on him pretty much as soon as they enter. Before anyone actually gets to say anything, she's identified the youngest, weakest member of their party and started invading his mind so she can use him as leverage against them. Not great. Like I get she's feeling justifiably defensive, but she's already got a while bunch of armed guards that pretty dramatically outnumber the Jedi, maybe a bit of overkill to essentially take a padawan as a psychic hostage to manipulate his master.
It also tips her hand and shows off her power really early. You'd think she'd want to keep that in reserve, to prevent them from finding ways to counter it. Because I think that's probably exactly what happens. I'm straying slightly into the realm of 'headcanon' but I do think it's a fair logical leap to make that Indara, as his teacher, was the one to help Torbin 'fortify his mind' after, which does a couple things: 1) Aniseya has fewer people she can target with this spell, now that her primary target has specifically worked on blocking her out, and 2) this might have given Indara insight into the nature of the spell. Insight which she could then used to free Kelnacca and inadvertently kill the entire coven (also confirmed by the same interview, Indara did not intentionally kill them, she just chose to act without knowing what the consequences would be). But I think she just underestimated Indara (honestly not unlike the audience, we've been giving Sol credit for his telepathic prowess, when it was her this whole time) and possibly didn't think the Jedi would figure out her spell and how to counter it so quickly.
But I also totally get why Aniseya did this and why she thought it would work and that fits into the conflict between what each side thought was going on. The coven does not realize the Jedi are essentially concerned about the girls' safety and doing a welfare check. They think the Jedi are here for recruitment. So I could see how she might believe that a strong initial show of power would get them to back down. It's a very defensive maneuver, showing the Jedi that the girls have a strong family protecting them and it's not worth the risk to push harder...and might have worked...
...if the Jedi hadn't had a completely different idea of what was going on. Instead of chasing them off, it makes Sol double down on his idea that the girls are in danger and the aggressive opening move starts to sow doubt in what could have been Aniseya's ally.
(There really is a better version of this timeline where Indara puts her foot down on going in alone and diffuses the situation. Her going in by herself would have looked less threatening and had less weak spots, she probably wouldn't have fallen to Aniseya's spell so quickly, maybe they could have talked it out.)
But Aniseya has no way of knowing the conflict between Sol and Indara, and this direct, immediate threat to the youngest and most vulnerable member of their group would actually make them more convinced the girls were in danger. Instead of making them back off, it makes them feel like they can't back off without leaving the girls in a dangerous situation.
...and Aniseya doesn't know Indara had been defending the coven's right to be left alone, and that what she does to Torbin would make Indara doubt her convictions. The whole testing scene she's clearly starting to be like 'ok this maybe isn't great...' but she's clearly trying to stay fair, and there's this moment while Sol is talking to Osha, when she glances over at Torbin with this look on her face. There are probably multiple interpretations of this small, wordless exchange, but I took it to be like the deepest point of her doubt. She still follows the Council, but this does seem to be the point at which she stops trying to give them the benefit of the doubt while Sol gets more and more riled up about the girls' safety. (Will have to confirm on rewatch but I think up until that moment, she's still countering Sol's arguments with specific defenses of the coven, and then after that she just falls back to 'the Council said no'. This also might have contributed to her own willingness to use what turned out to be deadly force, or at least not care so much about the consequences.)
So yeah I think it was technically a tactical error, but it's an understandable one that fits into the theme of differing perspectives on the same event. IF what Aniseya thought was going on was really going on (the Jedi drifting by looking for recruits) it might have worked to get them to back off. But it was a mistake in light of how the Jedi had interpreted what they saw.
Anyway, I'm sorry so little of this conversation about the spell has been about Kelnacca, given he's really the biggest victim of it. It's just hard to analyze a character the audience can't understand. It is sad he looks so guilty in the final scene. Poor guy. Also really nothing in this contradicted my little theory/headcanon that Kelnacca and Torbin are generally more fucked up by the experience because of the mind invasion thing. (Especially if we consider....Koril possibly surviving........maybe the spell isn't quite so broken....) (ok now we've really gone off a theory deep end XD )
tldr: I liked how spooky and in-character the spell scene was, I would have liked to get more about what the actual moment of the spell felt like, and potentially its aftereffects but........might have to cover that myself *opens word document*
(just kidding....I use scrivener and I've been working on fic with the tentative hope I was not abysmally wrong on characterization for weeks.)
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Okay, so I'm gonna quickly summarize the dream this AU is based on before I get into the actual AU, so that way anyone who isn't interested in this sort of thing doesn't have to read it.
The main character (who I don't remember anything about other than their existence) buys a book from an old library that's going out of business, goes home, accidently ends up summoning a demon, demon goes on a rant about their job and ends up shoving their duty onto main character before leaving.
Main character goes on a walk to clear their head, gets kidnapped, their kidnapper attempts to sacrifice them to summon a demon, main character fights back and accidentally kills the kidnapper, then the demon gets summoned. And that was the point where I woke up.
Now, I'm adding my actual idea for the au under the read more, because knowing me I'll go on a rant and it might get long.
So, obviously this takes place in a world where it's believed to be just humans and magic is a thing of fiction. Yuu (who is obviously the main character in this) heard that an old library nearby is being shutdown and that the owner is selling the books. They decide to go see if there's anything that interests them and, alongside some of the books they would have expected, they find a book that's different from the rest.
Other than the fact that its cover didn't have any sort of title, the writing in the book didn't look like a real language and the pages had a bunch of different symbols that were strange.
Yuu asks the owner about it and they mention that someone just left it in the return section one day and they figured they might as well keep it since it's a library. The owner offers it to Yuu for free, saying "no one would pay for a book like that" and "it's just picking up dust with me" and Yuu agrees because who doesn't like free stuff?
So after that, Yuu takes the strange book and a couple of other books that they bought home with them, putting them on the counter so that they remember to put them away later. Of course they do forget at first, but they remember later when they go back to the kitchen for a drink and see the books.
Yuu accidentally knocks the strange book off the counter and onto the floor, and when they go to pick it up, it suddenly starts glowing. And before they have much of a chance to react, the room goes dark before there's a sudden flash of light, which they cover their eyes to stop themselves from getting blinded.
When they open their eyes, they see a weird bird man who introduces himself as Crowley, says he's a demon, and goes on a bit of rant about how someone or something is trying to force open rifts between the demon realm and human realm to bring destruction to the human realm, which if they succeed will end up destroying both. He says that, despite it being his job to stop things like that from happening, demons aren't supposed to interfere in the human world to that extent unless they're specifically summoned to do so. Then he puts the book in Yuu's hands, telling them it's their job to stop the world from getting destroyed because the book chose them, wishes them luck, and leaves while completely ignoring their protests and questions.
After that, Yuu leaves the house to go on an evening walk to get some fresh air, pretty sure that what happened wasn't actually real because why would that have actually happened?
But then they get kidnapped by someone who wants to sacrifice them to summon demons. And when they wake up, tied down to make sure they don't run, they desperately hope for a way out, only opening their eyes when they feel the ropes suddenly disappear.
And what do they see, but the same book from earlier?
Now, feeling even more freaked out than they were earlier, Yuu picks up the book and leaves the room they were in to start looking for a way out.
Unfortunately, they end up in the room where their kidnapper has just about finished preparing the summoning ritual. The last thing they need? The sacrifice of a human soul.
Of course, they don't have the jump on Yuu like they did earlier, allowing Yuu the opportunity to fight back.
One thing leads to another and Yuu ends up accidentally killing the kidnapper, leaving Yuu frozen in shock as their kidnapper's blood drips onto the summoning circle.
Even if they didn't notice it glowing, they definitely noticed the way that the room seemed to darken and how all the heat in the room seemed to disappear.
They absolutely noticed the two figures that began to form in the summoning circle.
#please send in asks if youre interested#i might not have much of an idea#but i really like this au and want an excuse to try and expand on it#twst#twisted wonderland#twst au#twisted wonderland au#demon au#twst demon au
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To Feel Again [M]
Genre: light angst, romance
Warnings[!]: smut, penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, mentions of adult toys
Pairing: Doyoung x Reader
Words: 4.4k / One-shot
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Valentine's Day: the day of roses and hearts and chocolates and romantic candlelit dinners. When people proposed marriage and professed undying love.
You sighed, staring unseeing into your bowl of cornflakes as they succumbed to their milky grave and turned to soggy goop. Funny how a date on a calendar could open the pit of despair that lived somewhere near your stomach. It had to be near your stomach. You've been reasonably hungry until you've noticed the date and the pit opened. Your hunger had fallen into it, and the memories and pain rose out of it.
There was a time when this day had been wonderful. Life had been wonderful, you didn't need Valentine's Day, but you celebrated it with reverence and, sometimes, wild abandon.
You knew what love was, what it felt like to love a man and how it felt to lose him. You remembered what he'd said that last morning, how he'd kissed you; how the sun had lit his face as he smiled, promising he'd be back. You also remembered the police, how the sun seemed to dim as they told you the phrases out of courtesy. They were sorry for your loss. They will let you know of details as soon as the investigation on the accident comes to an end.
Since that time, Valentine's Day had passed unheralded, unheeded and uncelebrated. You knew you were a joke of the office - entering thirties soon and never been fucked, that's what they said. The borning woman who had no idea what fun was, wouldn't have known what to do with a man if by some miracle you did catch the attention of one. They were wrong, of course. Not that it was any of their business; it certainly didn't affect your ability to do your job.
If you chose to act and dress your age and spend your evenings quietly, rather than as mutton dressed as lamb in some gaudy nightclub, surely that was your right?
You sighed again, getting up from the table, taking your cereal bowl and dumping the gloop down the sink. A bleak day of petty jibes and pitying looks lay ahead. At least you knew what to expect this year.
Last year had been your first Valentine's Day with this particular company and, therefore, your first with this particular bunch of malicious people - your fellow employees. As front counter receptionist, you were the company's first "public face" and some of your co-workers had decided it didn't look good if that face wasn't surrounded by gifts from admirers on this day.
When the first bunch of anonymous flowers had arrived, you've been flustered, flattered and flabbergasted that anyone would send you flowers. You had hurriedly cleared a space on the counter for them, proudly displaying them, fussing with them to show them off at their best and make them visible from the greatest distance. You kept touching them, moving them slightly, reaffirming they were really there. Your heart sang; someone had noticed you. Maybe he was too shy to reveal himself; maybe he was married and couldn't: your mind was alive with questions, trying to solve the mystery of their origin. You were all in all happy.
Then a large box of chocolates arrived, closely followed by more flowers. By lunchtime, these had been joined by a little plush cherub, two red plush love hearts, a pair of earrings, three more bunches of flowers, four assorted boxes of chocolates and a large jar of candy hearts. They all carried the same anonymous message. And you knew then and there what is the catch behind this.
By the end of the day there were nine flower arrangements, ten boxes of chocolates, three cherubs, the two red love hearts, three teddy bears, two jars of candy, the earrings and a gift box containing four pairs of edible undies. Just before the close of business the final humiliation came - a fantastically wrapped see through box containing an inflatable male doll with vibrating tongue, a massive purple vibrating dildo and a copy of the Sex for The Beginners book.
You had to stay at your post until the last visitor or client left. But the rest of the staff was already heading out of the building. Some boggled at your desk, some snickered, a couple made loud crass comments and a very few had appeared horrified at the pile of stuff surrounding yourself. The building had almost emptied before that last visitor departed. You were sure that, too, was a set-up, particularly when you saw it was the client that had been visiting quite frequently lately.
Myungsoo ushered the man to the street and turned back to you as you gathered your coat and handbag, ready to escape.
"Gee, you're a popular girl. Who would have thought?" He reached your counter and began collecting up the flowers, grinning madly. "Let me help you with all that."
Before you could say a word, he bundled all the flowers, chocolates and assorted other items into your arms. You could barely see where you were going. Myungsoo put his arm around your back and shepherded you out the door, peeking at the vibrator in its transparent box. "There you go, sweetheart. Looks like you're definitely gonna get some action tonight." He turned smartly away, laughing as he rapidly put distance between the two of you.
You obviously had thrown the whole lot in the nearest dumpster and hurried to the relative sanctuary of your car before breaking down and sobbing, burying your head in your hands to hide from prying eyes of curious passer-bys.
Standing at your kitchen sink, you wondered what they'd pull this year. It couldn't be worse, could it? You sighed again and then abruptly shook your head, standing straighter. To hell with it - you were not going to let them get to you today.
It had already begun when you arrived. A bouquet of irises sat at the front of the counter. You were tempted to throw them straight in the garbage, but decided they were too pretty, too unusual. So they stayed. Curiosity got the better of you as you looked at the card, expecting it to say something sappy and insincere, as last year's cards had.
"You are worth far more than they will ever realise. Hear the flowers."
You pondered the card. Hear the flowers?
What on earth did that mean? You raised an eyebrow as you settled into your post: at least it seemed this year would be more intriguing than last. During quiet moments throughout the morning, you'd pick up the card, reread the cryptic message and study the beautiful bouquet, but its secret was never revealed.
No gifts arrived for you, no more flowers. You were relieved, but it only served to deepen the mystery of the flowers. As your lunch hour approached, other staff began filtering out of their offices to take a break. They all noticed the irises. Several of the women stopped and commented on their beauty. No one laughed.
As always, you left the building for lunch. You would usually grab a sandwich somewhere and do a bit of window shopping. Anything to get away for an hour - if you stayed in the office, someone always "needed" you for something.
When you returned, a neatly typed page was on your desk: "The meaning of flowers". One line was highlighted in blue: "Iris: Have Faith. Don't Give Up On Hope." A single purple violet was pinned to the page. You scanned the page to find "Violet (Purple): You occupy my thoughts". You put the page to one side, but still in view, unsure whether to laugh at it and throw it along with the flowers away before the punch line or wait it out. This was definitely a far more sophisticated assault than last year.
Throughout the afternoon a steady procession of couriers arrived, carrying flowers and gifts. You nervously watched each one approach your counter, only to breathe a sigh of relief as the teddy bears and hearts, the chocolates and flowers were all destined for other souls.
At 4:30PM a man approached your station: nothing unusual in that; everyone that came to see someone had to check in with you. What was unusual was that he actually saw you as a fellow human, not a robot programmed to take names and give directions. He smiled at you, a real smile that reached his eyes and warmed your heart. Something familiar in his eyes...
"Good afternoon. My name is Kim Doyoung. I have an appointment to speak to Choi Myungsoo. Would you mind letting him know I am here, please?"
Quickly, you dialled Myungsoo's extension, giving him the information. Myungsoo, as usual was brusque to the point of rude, telling you to "entertain the idiot 'till I'm ready for him - he's not supposed to be here for another 15 minutes".
You were tempted to tell the polite gentleman exactly what Myungsoo had said, but instead used your tact and diplomacy (that was why you were hired after all) to tell him that "Mr. Choi is a little delayed. He will be available in a few minutes."
With that being said, you offered him a seat.
Again he smiled. "Those are beautiful flowers," he said, nodding towards the iris bouquet. "A discerning choice for a lovely lady."
You lowered your eyes, feeling the heat rise in your face, knowing you were blushing.
His voice softened and became much quieter. "You don't remember me, do you?" Your eyes flew to his face, confused. Were you supposed to know this charming man?
"I had an appointment here at the same time, on this day last year. I was waiting outside for a taxi when you left. That was uncalled for, the whole situation that happened - mean and heartless and exactly what I would expect of Myungsoo and his friends. I deal with them only because I must. They offer a service unparalleled in this town."
He leaned across the counter, his voice so low only you could hear. "How they manage it, I cannot tell. They are pig swill and don't know a pearl when confronted with one." Doyoung paused, seeming to weigh up his next statement, then leaned closer to you. "Did you hear the flowers?"
Your eyes again flew to his face, your mouth falling open a little. "You sent them?"
"I did. And the violet. I had hoped to counter whatever crass display they had planned this year. Would you possibly consider spending the evening with me?" His face was eager, hopeful. "A nice dinner?"
You were stunned, flattered, amazed - but also wary. This was Myungsoo's client. He could easily have been put up to this. You studied his face closely, seeking any hint of a lurking cad. His face fell. "But, of course, you have other plans. I apologise for embarrassing you." He moved away and sat, abashed, on one of the hideous lounge chairs to await his appointment.
You studied this man. He didn't seem to fit the mould of Myungsoo's usual cohorts. For one thing he was unerringly polite. He was also good looking, very, very good looking, without being outstanding or flashy. He was also much closer to your age than Myungsoo's and had an air of quiet confidence, like he had nothing to prove to anyone and nothing to fear from them either. You looked at the flowers. Could Myungsoo have possibly thought of something this elegant? You didn't think so. You took a deep breath: to hell with it.
"Mr. Kim?" He looked up. "What time would you like to pick me up?"
In your bedroom, staring at the clothes hanging limply in your closet, the cool bravado that had claimed you as you agreed to the date vanished. In its place indecision, doubt and outright terror took hold. It seemed painfully obvious to you now, away from the office and that lovely man, that it was all another twisted joke, something for the office beautiful people to laugh at during tomorrow's coffee breaks. Why did you say yes? Your wardrobe was woefully inadequate. It was years since you'd been out with a man; you were bound to make a fool of yourself, even if it wasn't a set-up.
At that thought your heart jumped and lurched. The possibility that Mr. Kim - no, Doyoung; this was a date not a business appointment - was sincere in his wish to take you out only heightened your confusion and indecision.
Finally, in desperation and the realisation that if you didn't decide soon, you'd still be in your underwear when he arrived; you chose a chanel-knee length cremé skirt and baby pink cashmere sweater, topped off with knee length boots. The heels were quite high, but you remembered him being tall, so that wouldn't be an issue, as long as you didn't fall over in them.
You were saved from an overcritical examination in the mirror. You had just completed applying your makeup when Doyoung arrived. You grabbed your coat and quickly walked out the door, before you had time to rethink and back out.
"You look lovely," Doyoung said, smiling down at you. Feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks; you weren't used to receiving compliments, particularly from someone like him. You mumbled a shy thanks as he helped you put on your coat and led you to his car.
Sitting in the car as he drove, you were able to study the mysterious man that is Kim Doyoung. He was extremely handsome, not in the classical sense, but he certainly was far from a plain looking man - a man at peace with himself. He knew who he was and was content with that; he knew what he wanted and how to get it; and what was beyond his capabilities and lost no sleep over it. He obviously managed quite well; his car was expensive but not too flashy.
The restaurant he took you too was a quiet small place, away from the standard eat-and-entertain strip. It was intimate without claustrophobia; the decor was elegant without being overbearing; the lighting low but not dim; the service attentive without being intrusive. The food you could not describe - later, you barely remembered what you had eaten beyond it being "nice" - your attention was totally taken by Doyoung.
He was gallant and charming; helping you with your coat and holding your chair for you at the intimate table for two tucked away in a corner. Doyoung quietly suggested items on the menu he thought you might like. It was obvious he'd been here before, was a regular, but usually without company. His choice of wine was perfect to go with the excellent food as you enjoyed each other's company.
And you talked.
You learned a lot about him. Doyoung was 34, older than you had thought; he had been engaged, but his fiancé decided to break off the engagement for simply falling out of love. He had had a series of short term relationships that had petered out and, for the past several years, had lived a solitary life, rarely going out with women. He didn't work as such; his livelihood came from investments, which explained him being a client of the company you worked in. Myungsoo may be a jerk, but he was the one of the best investment brokers around.
He had been attracted to you the first time he met you, a year ago, but had been intimidated by the evidence of all your admirers. When he realised it was all a cruel joke played by his adviser and the other brokers, he was mortified. He had seriously considered changing brokers, going to another organisation but that would have meant he had no chance of meeting you again. So he stayed. He had been in your office on three occasions since then, and each time had seen your quiet, unflappable charm and how your talent and lovely nature were either ignored or taken for granted by those around you. He was determined to gain your attention, but without the office cricus freaks being able to use it against you, hence the mystery flower delivery this morning.
You found yourself opening up to Doyoung. He seemed sincerely interested in hearing what you had to say, hanging on your every word. It was a liberating and wonderfully powerful feeling. You weren't used to being the centre of anyone's attention. You told him of your pride at the independence since the loss of your lover, all those years ago. You were happy in your little home, content with your work, rarely coming to the attention of the office jokers.
It was over coffee that you admitted to Doyoung something you haven't admitted to yourself: your life was lonely and you missed the affection of another person. You missed the companionship of sharing your life with someone.
Immediately after the words had left your lips you regretted them. You have given away too much of yourself, been too forward. You lowered your eyes, not wanting to see the closed expression you knew would be on his face, so you didn't see the fleeting look of pain, quickly followed by understanding and hope.
However, you did feel his hand close over yours and squeeze lightly. You looked up into a face of gentle eyes and soft smile. "Would you like to take a walk with me," he said quietly. "I think it's time we leave - they want to close the restaurant anyway."
You looked around yourself noticing that you two were the only people other than staff left in the restaurant, and many of the lights were dimmed. You gasped in wonder - you had no idea you've been there so long. "Yes, a walk would be lovely."
Doyoung ushered you along the street and across a small, neat park to a promenade along the riverbank. It was enough lit to feel safe and you walked along arm in arm. You felt his arm snake around your waist hugging you closer to him, and you snuggled against him, your arm around his back. The moon was up, the stars were out and the night was peaceful and clear.
Your heart was singing and your eyes sparkled. You've been right to take this gamble. He was sincere, and it was wonderful. But the night was late, and it was rather cold.
You shivered. Doyoung felt it immediately and turned off the promenade proposing to head back toward the street where he had left the car. "I'd better take you home. It wouldn't be much of a date if you ended up ill."
At your door, Doyoung formally thanked you for a lovely evening and asked if he could see you again. You smiled and surprised yourself only a little by reaching up and kissing him lightly on the lips before saying: "Would you like to come in for a nightcap?"
Doyoung blinked, looking mildly bemused for a moment before studying your face. "Are you sure?"
Oh, most definitely, you were sure. You have thought of nothing else since you two have left the river. He looked right, he felt right, and he smelt right. You wanted him but was sure he'd never make a move. He was too much of a gentleman to ever force the issue.
You took his hand and led him into your home, kicking the door closed with your foot, shutting out the rest of the world with its mean people and ugly attitudes. You reached up to kiss him again. This time he lowered his head to yours, cradling your face in his hands as he returned the kiss. The lips met and parted, allowing the tongues to join and caress each other. His hands moved down from your face to caress your body, yours moving up from his hips. Both of you parted, searching each other's faces for confirmation of your desires.
"I think we're on the same page," you said. "Why don't you leave your coat on the couch? Do you want the nightcap now, or after the tour?"
"I'll put a hold on the nightcap," Doyoung answered, reading the desire in your eyes and knowing it was mirrored in his while stripping off the coat.
"Right."
You took his hand again. "This is the lounge. There," you pointed to the right, "is the kitchen and dining room. This way," pulling him down the hall, "is the second bedroom, the bathroom and," dragging him through a doorway, "here is the main bedroom."
"Very nice," he said, looking around, trying not to focus on the bed.
Suddenly shy, you both looked at anything but each other, awkward in a lack of intimate knowledge of each other. Doyoung tentatively reached out a hand to you, aiming to caress your breast, veering off at the last moment to your shoulder, but still lightly brushing your breast with his fingertips. Your gasped breath emboldened him and he reached his other hand, caressing your other breast lightly as you shivered under his touch and sighed.
Your own hands went to his chest, running down the front of his shirt and back up, then beginning to undo the buttons, pulling the shirt from his trousers and teasing his bare skin with your fingers.
Doyoung pulled his shirt off and then raised the sweater over your head and off the arms, moving in to kiss you as his hands went around your back to undo the clasps of a bra and returned to cup your breasts. The sensation on your breasts as he caressed and pinched the nipples sent a sharp message straight between your legs. You could feel yourself becoming moist and shuddered under his touch; breath becoming uneven.
Pushing him away you removed the skirt, letting it pool at your feet while looking into his eyes. Doyoung took the hint and began unbuckling his belt, then grinned foolishly and sat beside you to take off his socks, sneaking kisses of your neck and shoulders as he did so. You both stood again, slightly apart. He dropped his trousers and you could see his briefs pushed out of shape by his erection, the fabric straining.
Doyoung stepped up, taking you in his arms, kissing down your neck and across the collarbone, his hands lowering to your hips, sliding under the elastic and beginning to tug your panties down. Your own hands flew to the top of his briefs. Together, you pulled down the underwear, stepping out of them and standing naked before each other. Again Doyoung moved first, holding you and gently pushing backwards onto the bed, following after you onto it.
He ran one hand down the body of yours, teasing and tickling the beginning of your womanhood and beyond, teasing you with his fingers, tickling across your mound and easing around your damp centre. You moaned as he explored, your hips twisting and twitching. It had been so long since another man had touched you there. It felt amazing, wonderful, but achingly short of what you needed. You could feel his hardness against your thigh. Reaching down, you took his cock into your hand. It was hot, hard and pulsed under your touch. Doyoung groaned and his hips jerked convulsively. You kissed him hard and whispered fiercely, "Please, it's been too long. I need you, now."
"For me too, far too long," Doyoung gasped back, rolling you onto your back and positioning himself before gently splitting your lips and sliding steadily but firmly into you. Your moans were prominent in the air as he stretched and filled you right, not stopping his steady thrust until he was wholly inside you, your warm walls gripping him tightly. Your eyes met and locked as you lay still, immersed in the feeling of each other's body.
Being warm, wet and a safe haven, you were engulfing his cock. Doyoung was filling you with his hard heat, owning your body completely. You fit each other perfectly; you could see it in each other's eyes. You belonged together.
As great as this feeling was, you needed more. Doyoung slowly withdrew, till only the very tip split you. Both groaning as he pushed back in, again slowly feeling each other with delectable inch. Slowly in and out, in and out, revelling in the feeling of each other's bodies, gradually building up speed as your need increased.
You could feel the fire building, the tension increasing as sensation on sensation smashed into you with each thrust, your body twitching, your hips writhing. Still it built; higher, tighter, fiercer. Your entire being was wrapped around Doyoung's cock as it pumped in and out of you. You could hear him grunting with each thrust, feel his body trembling as he got closer to his climax. His speed increased and you breath got caught in your throat, your back arched, legs went stiff as you began to twitch when the white light exploded through you, spreading warmth and scattering your senses.
You felt, from far away but deep within you, Doyoung losing his rhythm before coming, pumping wildly into you, grunting and thrusting hard one last time as he shot deep inside you feeling spent but overly fulfilled.
Your hand was making lazy circles on Doyoung's chest as you lay, curled against his side with a head on his shoulder. You weren't sure how you've come to be in this position, but it felt so right and he smelled so good.
You were at peace while drifting off to sleep.
Waking up without feeling body by your side, you immediately felt the loss. Doyoung wasn't there. Your heart dropped, the pit near your stomach threatened to open and engulf it. Sensing the tears coming up, you accidentally feel something on your side with a hand.
He wasn't there. But there was a note.
"I am so sorry. I hate to leave you, knowing you will wake alone. There is something I must do."
You had just finished reading when the phone rang, disturbing your thoughts. Grudgingly, you moved to answer it. "Hello."
"Wish I was still beside you."
Your heart flipped again. The pit dissolved so you could breathe again before whispering, "Doyoung."
"Y/N. Tell me, what are you planning for breakfast?"
"Uhm. Coffee? Maybe some toast. Why?"
"Don't move. I'm on my way. With breakfast. And it's better than toast."
You lay back in bed, listening to the dial tone after he hung up. Surprised, you smile softly. You must remember to thank Myungsoo for introducing them.
If this is how you will feel loved and feel free to love again, you have no complaints.
Your new chapter is about to begin and hopefully, it will last for a very long time with a man named Kim Doyoung.
#one shot#nct smut#nct scenarios#nct fanfiction#doyoung#kim doyoung#doyoung x reader#doyoung scenarios#doyoung fanfic#doyoung smut#romance#nct romance#nct angst#nct 127#nct u#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 fanfic
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Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 5
Previous chapter links:
Afterglow chapters Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader CHAPTER FIVE
Sometimes, the universe works in different dumb ways. You're one of the few lucky people if you get what you want, and one of those who aren't; the ones who run out of luck every damn time. There's nothing more miserable than finding what you're not looking for, meeting the right person at the wrong time (or vice versa), getting the wrong take out food, or riding the wrong cab.
Unlike your first cab ride, this one was different. There was no loud music, no speeding, no overtaking, and no yelling -- definitely not what you needed right now. See how the universe works in different dumb ways?
If Bucky wasn't hungover right now, you would've ran all the way from White Wolf to the bar. God, how much did he drink last night? After thirty minutes, the cab finally stopped in front of the bar. Bucky paid a generous amount. "Keep the change." He said casually before stepping out of the cab.
Without second thoughts, you walked the steps down that lead to the door of the bar. In front of it were sealed boxes and cases of different kinds of liquor -- beer, champagne, wine, whiskey, vodka; you name it. Luckily, you always had the bar keys in your pockets in case of emergencies. Lucky for Steve, one of his employees just lived right above the bar and had the freedom to come down any time she wanted. Steve lived all the way in Brooklyn. Why he chose to work in the Upper West Side, you might never know. He was a pretty secretive person. No one from the bar staff knew anything about his personal life -- except that his family was from Rhode Island (perhaps).
"That's a lot of boxes." Bucky caught up with you. "Good thing I'm here."
"Please." You scoffed. "You're still hungover." I bet he couldn't even carry one small box, and even if he could, he'd just spill them all over the floor. But you didn't really know Bucky. You just knew him from Peter's stories. So, when he carried two big boxes at the same time right before you opened the door, the shock came over you. You wondered, spending all his time partying and drinking, where he stores all the alcohol he consumes.
"Where do you want me to put this?" Bucky asked.
"Just right behind the counter." You replied. "If you need some help, let me know."
"I got it all, doll, don't you worry." He chuckled, placing the boxes on top of the counter then jumping over it to reach the other side. You rolled your eyes and got more of the boxes that were sitting lonely outside. You put a stopper right between the small gap between the floor and the door. "Nice place you got here!" You heard Bucky yell amidst the city noises. "Different kind of bar."
"You mean not like the kind of bar you go to?"
You heard him chuckle. "Yeah, that. This one's kind of vintage."
"Yeah." You replied, sticking your head out by the door frame. "Like you!"
He gave you a small chuckle. The bar did give off some vintage mood -- that was why it was a bar for everyone. The kids were now discovering and loving all kinds of vintage stuff, people in their fifties come here 'cause it reminded them of their time, and some are just curious.
On the inside of the bar, everyone was completely shut out from the outside. There were no windows, only color-stained glasses on the wooden walls near the ceiling. You can never tell day from night inside unless you look at the wall clock.
You pushed some of the boxes on the floor. You didn't have enough upper body strength to carry them all the way to the counter. By the time you reached Bucky, you carried the boxes one by one and placed them on the counter, then he carried them over to the other side.
"So vintage." He commented once again. "You even got a jukebox. Does that even work?" He motioned towards the jukebox.
You sensed he wanted to try it for himself so you told him he could give it a little push. He smiled and jumped over the counter once more. "You don't always have to jump, Bucky." You showed him the wooden counter pass-through he could easily open but his focus was set on the jukebox. He found the plug and waited for it to light up.
"Cool. Just like they do in the movies."
"Of course. What did you expect when you plugged that in?" You carried one box to the counter and stopped near the jukebox, leaning over it. "Besides, didn't you guys have this during your time?"
"You make it sound like I came from the fifties."
You raised your eyebrows, crossing your arms. "So, what did you guys have?"
"Cassettes." He mumbled.
"We had iPods. But at some point I think we did have cassettes, then the CD, then the iPods. Still doesn't change the fact that you're basically a dinosaur." Then you made a roaring sound which you thought was the sound of dinosaurs.
"That's not how a dinosaur sounds like, Aria."
"Of course, you'd know." You teased before going back to get some more boxes.
Bucky started to push some buttons until a mellow song played. "It's been a long, long time." He mumbled.
"What?" You asked and stopped pushing the boxes.
"The song. It's named 'It's been a long, long time.' A buddy of mine's favorite song. He and his girlfriend used to dance to it. Haven't heard this song for a long time. Quite nice."
"It is nice." You commented. "But it's too dramatic. Put some Beatles on!"
He chuckled and pushed more buttons until a song from The Beatles played.
You resumed moving all the things inside. As the boxes got heavier, assuming they were mostly the new plates and glasses, Bucky removed his polo shirt and dropped it somewhere. He was still wearing the tank top he had yesterday. "Remind me to buy Peter some new clothes."
"You're really gonna buy him new clothes?" You grunted, carrying a heavy box on the counter, passing it to Bucky.
"Yeah." He made a face, clearly struggling with the box. "I kinda destroyed what was half in his closet."
"I heard, yeah." You replied while walking to the front door to get the cases.
"You got some more back there?" Bucky yelled.
"It's the last one. I got it."
For the next hour, you and Bucky spent unpacking and placing everything where they were supposed to be. You had a few phone calls from Peter, most were just him checking up on Bucky. You promised to tell him you'd tell the whole fiasco at the White Wolf when he gets here in the bar.
"I'll be there as fast as I can." Peter replied before hanging up. You told Bucky about the phone call and he mumbled something under his breath you couldn't quite decipher. You decided to leave him be as he unloaded the last box.
Before you could even ask about the mean drink he was supposed to make, he emerged from behind the counter, holding up two bottles in his hand. "You up for some drinks?"
"As long as you pay for it."
On his hands were two expensive unopened bottles. As long as they were still half full and paid by Bucky, you wouldn't get in any kind of trouble with Steve.
"I got you, doll. Don't worry." He popped both of them open and grabbed two cups and a shaker as you sat down one of the stools, shaking off the nickname he'd been giving you ever since you arrived here at the bar.
You barely paid attention to the song still playing on the jukebox as you watched Bucky make his supposedly mean drink. He started to tell a story about how he learned to make his own drinks. Unlike Peter, he didn't bother to beat around the bush. He kept everything short and precise: A bartender friend of his taught him how to make drinks then experimented on his own in his penthouse where he had a mini bar just for himself, which was inside his own office. Odd, you thought. Most people would have them on the corner of the living room, with wine glasses dangling on hanging wine holders and shelves full of liquor. Bucky's mind worked in a different way.
Bucky's very short story made you wonder of all the other classic Bucky stories you've been told -- the long ones Peter would tell you. You wondered if they were only adventurous and wild in Peter's words. Would they have been different if you'd heard them from Bucky?
"I'm gonna name this drink after you." Bucky snapped you out of your train of thought.
"What?"
"This one." He carefully handed me the drink. "I made it based on your personality."
"Bucky." You chuckled, gazing at the drink before me. Then returned it to him. "You don't even know me."
"And to think we were just engaged a while ago." He pursed his lips and leaned on the bar counter, then licked his lower lip. You tried your hardest not to give a quick glance at it but you obviously failed, so you stared at the drink in front of you once again.
"This drink is basically your judgement about me." You replied.
"It's a good judgement." He retorted. "Trust me."
"You're gonna pay, right?"
"Yeah, yeah." He playfully rolled his eyes. "Go on, try it."
Before you could even take a small sip, someone came in the door and your instinct was to say: "Sorry, we're closed right now" but it turned out to be Steve wearing denim on denim and a cap.
"Steve!" Quickly, you gave Bucky the drink he made you, then he hid it behind the counter where Steve could not take even a small peak. "Hey, I thought you were with your family."
Steve managed to catch his breath, leaning against the wall while keeping his eyes on you. "I have been calling you for the past few minutes. I thought you didn't make it here."
Your eyes widened, taking a quick glance at your phone which was on top of the bar counter. On the bright screen were a bunch of missed calls from Steve. You gave him an apologetic look and he just sighed as he walked towards the counter. Then, he caught a glimpse of Bucky who was right behind you.
"Right, right." You shook my head. "Bucky, this is Steve. He's my boss. And Steve, this is Bucky. He's Peter's stepbrother. He's just helping me out with the boxes."
There was an odd exchange between the two for a second or three. A knowing look. But you shrugged it off when Steve shook Bucky's hand over the counter. "Bucky. Nice to meet you."
Steve nodded. "Aren't you the owner of White Wolf?"
"That's me." Bucky chuckled, withdrawing his hand back after the friendly handshake.
Steve focused his attention back to you. "You could've called me y'know."
"It's okay. Bucky came to help. Besides," you gave Bucky a side glance, "he owes me."
"Zip it, doll."
You laughed, looking at Steve. "Aren't you supposed to be at your family gathering?" you asked, practically shooing Steve away, not wanting him to see Bucky making drinks behind the counter.
"Yeah, well I thought -- "
"Go, Steve. We're basically finished." You stood up and walked Steve out the door. Bucky yelled a simple goodbye as we walked.
"So," Steve whispered once we were at the door, "are you two..."
You gave him a look of disbelief. "What? No, no, no, no, no. We're not. We just met."
"That's what they all say."
"Rogers." You grunted as you opened the door. "Go."
"Wow, so eager to get me out of here. Are you gonna have sex on the floor?"
"Steve!"
"Please, don't have sex on the floor."
"No, we won't. Now go."
Steve laughed as he walked up the steps and hailed for a cab. "You say that now, Aria. Just remember to clean up afterwards."
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x you#bucky fic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes au#bucky au#bucky barnes story#au#fan fic#fan fiction#romance#bucky barnes fan fiction
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The Girl Out of Time
Pairing: Bucky x Reader and Sam x Reader
Background: Willow Roffe was born and raised in Brooklyn. She lived her life as happily as she could with her two childhood best friends Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. When they both left her to join the military she tried to continue with life but that didn't get to happen for her for the simple fact that she meant something to James Buchanan Barnes.
Rating: Story will be overall MATURE but not every chapter. There will be strong language, talk of both mental and physical abuse, some good ole angst, and smut. There will be a warning at the beginning of the chapter when it includes smut.
Chapter 25
I stayed in my seat next to Steve. He was flipping threw the accords now. Sam has gotten up to stand behind us next to Rhodey. Then he had to make a smart comment sending Rhodey into a tangent.
"Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor which is one more than you have." Rhodey snapped at him.
"So let's say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?" Sam asked harshly.
I turned in my seat to watch the two. Rhodey sighed as he rubbed his eyes.
"117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you're just like, 'No, that's cool. We got it.'" Rhodey said sarcastically.
"How long are you going to play both sides?" Sam asked narrowing his eyes at the other man.
"I have an equation." Vision spoke up.
"Oh, this will clear it up." Sam said rolling his eyes.
I turned to face the once AI who was sitting next to Wanda.
"In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. During the same period the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate." Vision explained.
"Are you saying it's our fault?" Steve asked as he looked up from the page he was reading.
"I'm saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge invites conflict. And conflict breeds catastrophe. Oversight, oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand." Vision said slowly.
"Boom" Rhodey whispered towards Sam.
"Tony. You're being uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal." Nat said.
I looked over to Tony who was slouched in his seat on the couch rubbing his head.
"It's because he's already made up his mind." Steve said as he flipped a page.
"Boy, you know me so well." Tony groaned as he got up.
"Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache. That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort." Tony said as he walked into the kitchen.
"Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?" He asked harshly.
He turned away from the sink then tossed something onto the counter. A holographic picture of a young boy came up. Tony took a deep breath.
"Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA, had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where. Sokovia. He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. We won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass." Tony took another deep breath.
Even though I wasn't even close to Sokovia I still felt partly at fault. I felt guilty for everything that had happened even if I wasn't apart of it.
"There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form it takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less we're no better than the bad guys." Tony's voice fell into a soft and exhausted tone.
"Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don't give up." Steve said sternly.
"Who said we're giving up?" Tony asked raising a brow at Steve.
"We are if we're not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame." Steve said as he tossed the papers back onto the table.
"I'm sorry, Steve. That is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the World Security Council, it's not Shield, it's not Hydra." Rhodey explained.
"No, but it's run by people with agendas, and agendas change." Steve said simply.
"That's good. That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands I shut it down and stopped manufacturing." Tony told him as he walked around the counter.
“Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there’s somewhere we need to go and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.” Steve tried to explain.
“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s the fact. That won’t be pretty.” Tony said simply.
“You’re saying they’ll come for me.” Wanda said softly.
“We would protect you.” Vision told her.
“Maybe Tony’s right. If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off-“ Nat started to explain.
“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam asked.”
I glanced over to Steve who looked absolutely exhausted. I knew he didn’t want this. He looked like he was wracking his brain for anything to say to convince the others.
“I’m just reading the terrain. We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.” Nat told Sam.
“Focus up. I’m sorry. Did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?” Tony asked in his normal sarcasm.
“I want to take it back now.” Nat practically groaned.
“No, you can’t retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay. Case closed. I win.” Tony shrugged happily.
A soft buzzing had me looking down at Steve’s lap. He pulled his phone out then read over the words on the screen. His entire demeanor changed.
“I have to go.” He said then immediately left the room without another word.
“What?” Tony asked after he was already gone.
I looked back to see Sam already watching me. I’m sure he could tell something was up as well. We both made our way out of the room to try to find Steve. He hadn’t gotten that far. By the time we got out to the sidewalk he was standing there with red puffy eyes. I ran straight to him pulling him into me for a hug.
“She’s gone. Peggy’s gone.” He said softly.
Sam and I both decided to join Steve for the funeral. Neither of us wanted him to be alone. The three of us sat in the front pew. Steve was squeezed between us. I watched as Sharon, the “nurse” that lived down the hall from Steve and I, stepped up to the podium.
“Margret Carter was known to most as a founder of Shield but I just knew her as Aunt Peggy.” She started.
I glanced at Steve who looked completely surprised by her statement.
“She has a photograph in her office. Aunt Peggy standing next to JFK. As a kid, that was pretty cool. But it was a lot to live up to. Which is why I never told anyone we were related.” Sharon glanced at Steve as if she was talking directly to him.
“I asked her once how she managed to master diplomacy and espionage in a time when no one wanted to see a woman succeed at either. She said, compromise where you can. But where you can’t, don’t. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree look them in the eye and say no, you move.” Sharon said with as much passion as Steve.
She was one hell of a speech giver. If that speech effected me I can only imagine what it did to Steve. I had a feeling Sharon’s words just concreted everything Steve had been thinking about. When the service was over Sam and I stood outside to give Steve his moment alone. Nat came jogging up to church steps toward us.
“So?” I asked.
“It’s done.” She nodded.
“He’s inside” Sam told her.
She nodded then walked in to find Steve.
“What now?” I asked Sam.
“I have a feeling we’re just getting started.” He huffed as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
I had the same feeling. After all this I’m sure Steve wasn’t going to back down.
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#nothingbutfangirlsmut#fanfiction#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky imagine#bucky fanfic#bucky angst#james buchanan barnes#steve rogers#sam wilson fanfiction#sam x reader#sam wilson#the girl out of time
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