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kittyball23 · 1 year

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Playing the Part (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Now that the brothers have come together, it’s time to rehearse once again, but are they ready to get back to the groove of things?

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At this rate, Poppy was going to get a bruise on her arm from how many times she had been pinching it.

The way she saw it, she had to. This moment was unreal to her, and she wanted to be extra sure that she wasn’t stuck in another perfect dream. She’d had plenty of dreams like this before, where she was there, a young tween girl, frolicking around with the five cute boys that made up her favorite band. But each time she pinched herself, she would not wake up in her bed in a swoon. She would still be standing there, tingling with joy, because nearly all five of the boys that she’d dreamed about were actually right there… just a few paces away!

Holy cupcakes and sprinkles… Poppy thought, as it hit her once again. BroZone is actually here!!!

She couldn’t believe that her dream really was true! Well, at least somewhat true. For one, the boys did not resemble the way they looked in her dream. There was a good twenty-year age gap between the boys she saw in her dream, and the men that stood before her now, taller and older. Age wasn’t the only difference, though. So was appearance.

John Dory still very distinctly wore his shades right above his head, though the rims of the goggles were a light green instead of orange. And while he still had a vest, it was a snow coat instead of the hair-matching turquoise one he was known to have on.

Spruce, the second eldest, also had a vest, though it was black and white, and decorated with a flowery pattern that perfectly gave off that island-vibe, a good thing, too, since Vacay Island was indeed his home! His purple hair had been smoothed down to a flowing, surfer-ish mane that extended well past his shoulders and blew elegantly in the wind.

Clay was nearly unrecognizable when she’d first seen him. He’d thinned out and grown tall, and had a mop of wild, unruly lime-green hair instead of the old yellow that he’d had when he was a teen. To top it off, he’d ditched the vest look entirely and traded it in for a style that consisted of a glittery green cardigan sweater, and wristbands to match.

And then, of course, there was Branch – “Bitty B” – the ‘baby’ of the group, who was certainly no baby anymore! Her boyfriend had come along on the journey in his usual outfit of choice, the leaf green vest and brown patchwork shorts. His blue was not as vibrant as it had been when he was little, but it was still there, looking as handsome as ever, and he was still a teensy bit short compared to the other brothers (though she wouldn’t point that detail out to him).

The only one missing from the squad was Floyd, the second youngest BroZone brother, who much to her dismay, had been unjustly captured. She had to wonder what he looked like now, since everybody else looked different. Regardless, she couldn’t wait to meet him! But, there was only one itsy bitsy problem that was keeping her from meeting him – and that was the obvious fact that he was captured, by some strange creatures from the sound of it. The way that John Dory had described them, they were tall and limby, green-haired with pale skin and eyes that looked too large for their faces.

Poppy creased her eyebrows in worry. It was obvious to her that not everybody was friendly, despite her desire to believe it was true. I mean not all Trolls were friendly, she reminded herself. Barb wasn’t at first… She recalled the World Tour and how one of her now closest friends had behaved at first. In the back of her mind, she was hoping that the pair of siblings who had captured Floyd would be able to change for the better, too. But, for the time being, it was going to be a battle of the bands, with the ultimate goal of achieving the most perfect Family Harmony in order to free Floyd from capture. The Family Harmony, of course, had to be accomplished with harmony among the family, as the name suggested, which was something that had to be worked on. Given that the band had broken up from an explosive argument, it was obvious that there perhaps was a significant lack of harmony.

But not to worry! Poppy thought to herself. That’s why they’re here – they’re going to perfect the harmony, get back into the groove of things like they were when they were at the top of their career, and then become best friends again!! Poppy could hardly wait to see it happen!

Her eyes flitted over to the boys, who were taking a few warm-up stretches to prepare for the routine. She had to stifle a laugh watching John Dory, trying to reach down to touch his toes but hardly able to even get his arms past his knees before he was giving up with exhaustion. Spruce fared no better, but instead of embarrassing himself with trying like JD did, he did a couple of simple yoga-like poses, extending his arms out and trying not to look silly doing so. Clay, on the other hand, looked like he was quite in his element. Alongside being known as ‘The Fun One’ of the group, Poppy remembered hearing how he was their unofficial choreographer. It was no wonder his stretches looked the most natural and practiced, like he knew what he was doing as he held a split and stretched his arms down toward the end of one long leg. Branch was also a bit athletic, too, his Bergen-survivalist past making him able to pull off a few stretches with ease. But still, by the look on his face, she could tell he was feeling a bit awkward about it. In fact, now that she took a look, they all looked a bit awkward, like they weren’t really sure about this, and definitely not sure if they would be able to flow together in the same way they used to.

Well, even if they don’t believe they can, I believe it! Poppy thought.

Suddenly, JD cleared his throat, swallowing with a bit of uncertainty. “Okay, then,” he said, naturally taking charge, “I guess we better get to it!”

“I guess,” Spruce mumbled, getting ready. Clay cracked his knuckles and Branch stood a notable few steps away from them, with his arms crossed.

“Wait a second, what song are we doing?” Clay asked, not sure what position to put himself in.

“Err… good question!” JD said, thinking. “I mean, we could always do ‘It’s Gonna Be Me’, right?” he suggested.

“Save that one for one of the songs at the big showdown,” Spruce said, putting a hand up. “How about something easier?”

“Easier, like what?” JD asked.

“Hmm… how about ‘Sailing’? That one had a lot of simple dance steps,” Clay piped up, believing that perhaps something a bit more basic would be good to start with, for the sake of having them rediscover their rhythm with one another again.

Luckily, John Dory saw the logic behind it, too, and he beamed. “Alright, sounds good!” Just to be sure, he peered over at Spruce and Branch.

Spruce gave him a thumbs up, while Branch simply got into position, and gave a nod to show that he was ready. Each of the brothers arranged themselves, ready to give it a go.

Sure enough, they began to harmonize, jumping right into the middle verses of the song.

“It's not far to Never Never Land

No reason to pretend

And if the wind is right you can find the joy

Of innocence again

Oh, the canvas can do miracles

Just you wait and see

Baby believe me, oh

Sailing (takes me away)

Takes me away

To where I've always heard it could be

(I heard it could be)

Just a dream and a wind to carry me

(Soon I will be free)

Soon I will be free, yeah…”

Poppy gushed. They sounded amazing! But, unfortunately, it seemed that despite their vocals being quite on point, things were not looking so pristine in the choreography department. The brothers faltered, either stepping too fast or too slow in comparison to each other, and therefore making themselves stumble more than once. The four finally put a halt in the production after one too many missteps.

“All right, look, I think I know what the issue is,” John Dory said. “We’re not getting the timing right because we need a fifth brother. We need Floyd.”

“Yeah, well, news flash, genius, Floyd’s kinda indisposed right now,” Branch pointed out, crossing his arms.

“So! We still need someone else,” JD retorted, a little embarrassed.

Poppy perked up. Wait. They need someone else. I mean, I’M somebody else, aren’t I?? She remembered how well she had flowed with John Dory, Spruce, and Branch when they had sang just for fun on Vacay Island. But they were just being nice to me, Poppy thought. Would they let her join in now? Before Poppy could help herself, she suddenly stepped up, wringing her palms nervously together and offering a tentative smile. “Would you settle for a sister?”

The boys looked at each other, indecisive for a brief second. But then it disappeared a moment later. The way that John Dory, Spruce, and Clay saw it, BroZone had been more of a ‘no girls allowed,’ even though the rule was never officially written on paper. But seeing the situation that they were in, the fact that this was the Queen of Pop making this request, the glare that Branch was giving them, and that it was a silly rule overall, they gave in.

“Yeah, sure… why not!” John Dory replied chirpily, waving her over.

Poppy gasped, unable to believe it. This was like a dream come true. Meeting BroZone (or at least most of them), and then being able to actually rehearse with them? She could burst with happiness! The pink Pop queen squealed in delight and scurried over to the brothers, more than ready to join in the choreography. But before she could take her place next to them, John Dory put a hand up to stop her.

“Hold on a second, girly,” he said, “If you’re gonna sing and dance with us, you’re gonna need to look the part. In fact, we all need to!” He reached into his hair, and pulled out some items that made everybody gasp once they recognized what they were.

“Whoa! Wait a minute… is that what I think it is?” Clay asked, his blue eyes wide.

“You bet your cardigan it is!” JD replied, tossing him a couple of the items. Clay caught it and his jaw dropped. Because right there in his hands was a very familiar little yellow vest and white slacks – his performing outfit from when he was a teen!

“No way!” he breathed.

A similar reaction arose from Spruce at the sight of his purple vest and white slacks. “Oh, wow…” he said, sizing up the vest, and not quite remembering it to be that little. All of them had certainly grown since then!

“Oh, Braaanch,” John Dory cooed, “lookie what I got for you!” John Dory held up his old pair of shades, the white rimmed glasses with the slight pink tinted lens… as well as a diaper!

Branch gave him a murderous look. “I am NOT going to wear that!” he growled.

“Oh, come on, don’t throw shade on the shades!” JD said, observing the white-rimmed glasses. “These used to me mine, you know.”

“You know I’m not talking about that!” Branch said.

“Oh, what, the diaper? Come on, how else are we gonna be BroZone without our cute youngest little bro, Bitty B?” JD tried reasoning, teasing Branch with his childhood nickname and pinching his cheek.

Branch took a deep breath, calming himself. If an argument broke out now, among any of them, that would be the end of everything they were trying to work towards. The last time an argument happened, he didn’t have to remind himself how that ended. I’m doing this for Floyd. We’re doing this for Floyd, Branch reminded himself. Everyone’s in good spirits now. Let’s keep it that way. And if this is the way that we’re going to accomplish the Family Harmony… well, then…

Branch snatched the diaper from John Dory’s hands. “Okay, fine!” he said. “Whatever. I’ll do it.”

“That’s a good boy!” John Dory teased, and then playfully punched his brother on the shoulder.

“I really can’t believe you kept this!” Clay said, still looking over the small yellow vest in his hands and running his fingers over the puffy material.

“I guess I thought we could use them again one day,” JD admitted.

“Not exactly a perfect fit, but hey, it’ll still do,” Spruce spoke up, adjusting the slightly tight vest better on his body.

JD took the opportunity to slip out of his snow coat and trade it for the turquoise vest he wore. It, too, was small on his body, but he didn’t let it bother him. “Ohoho, yeah, still as fly as ever!” he exclaimed, clicking his tongue and striking a quick pose. Then he turned his attention to Poppy. “Oh, yeah! And for you, Madame Poppy…” He handed her the little magenta vest that had belonged to Floyd. “It kinda works out, y’know, since you both have the pink hair and all!” JD pointed out.

“Oh, yeah… you’re right!” Poppy giggled, happily slipping her arms into the openings and letting it hug against her. EEEEE! This is the same vest that Floyd wore!! she squealed inwardly, incredibly grateful that she was allowed to even have it loaned to her.

Clay in the meantime had thrust his yellow vest on himself, surprising himself with how glad he was to be back in BroZone gear. Then, he got an idea, and whipped out a couple of cans of hairspray from his hair, spritzing it onto his unruly lime-green waves. If John Dory had said they needed to look the part, then he would make sure that he one-hundred percent did!

Spruce noticed and extended his hand out to his brother. “Ooo! May I?”

Clay gave a curt nod and tossed the cans over to him, the purple Troll catching it midair and spraying his luscious locks. Both Trolls donned themselves with pairs of sunglasses to make themselves look sharp. JD polished his own goggles like he’d done many times in his youth prior to any kind of performance, even rehearsals. Soon enough, the four brothers and Poppy all stood in a stunning row, posing elegantly, impressively, coolly. It didn’t matter if their clothes didn’t exactly fit the same way, or if Branch’s diaper felt like it was beginning to give him bum a rash.

For a second, the youngest member of BroZone actually felt good. No, he felt great! It was just like old times, when he would go onstage and sing with his bros without a care in the world, young and cute, and feeling free.

But then the itching began to get to him.

“Oof!” he complained, trying to adjust the diaper better around his bottom.

“Need this?” Spruce asked, pulling out a bottle of talcum from his hair that he used for his own kids. The sight of the powder being presented to a very flush-faced Branch sent the bunch into hearty laughter. Branch hurriedly swiped the item and mumbled, “I’ll be right back,” before scurrying off out of their view.

“Don’t be too long!” JD called out between laughs. “We’ve still got a show to do!”

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #brozone #branch trolls #poppy trolls #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #fanfiction #kittyball writes

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storytellingdreamer · 2 years

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Watching Granada Holmes: The Greek Interpreter

This recap has been written in two parts due to a recent holiday. Unfortunate, as the episode itself was a bit of an odd one.

The pacing feels slower, somehow, for starters. Despite the fact that it’s supposed to be an action/ suspense case, this only shows in particular moments.

I suppose that suits the story that introduces us Mycroft, though, and I do like it when they get David Burke to read out bits from the canon stories as voiceovers.

Oh, yeah. So this one’s category goes in the Case for a Friend/ Family category due to Mycroft.

and due to both him and Sherlock being Holmeses, I’ll be using their first names in the recap more.

Jumping back a minute, the opening is a good one - very Atmospheric. Gives you the “uh oh, something bad is about to happen” vibes right from the start.

Creepy Glasses Man (Kemp, I think, but we don’t find that out until later) is Very Creepy. And then poor Mr Kratides is hit over the head! Uh oh indeed.

Okay, jumping back to Holmes and Watson after Watson’s delightful voiceover... This is a Meet The Family episode.

Again, coupley. The way it’s framed, with Holmes just dropping it into conversation, and Watson being all like, “I didn’t know you had a brother,” and Holmes’s little “oh yes”, before Holmes feeds Watson some more intriguing information to encourage Watson’s interest then ends with, “I suppose... you want to meet him?” Like that wasn’t your plan all along in bringing him up, Sherlock? :smirks:

When describing Mycroft and his club, Sherlock says, ”it is the oddest club and Mycroft one of the oddest men”. In the original canon, the word used was not ‘oddest’ but ‘queerest’. I suppose the Granada Holmes folk thought the original line might be a bit too obvious...

Watson is so excited to meet Mycroft, it’s lovely. I don’t think you properly prepared him for the silence of the Diogenes Club though, Sherlock. He’s rather befuddled by it all.

Sherlock’s expression when he first enters the room and sees Mycroft, before anyone has spoken, easily convinces me that they’re brothers. (All down to Jeremy Brett’s microexpressions - the minute twitch of lips and eyebrows conveying a raft of emotion.)

The deductive game is of course amusing - a shame that’s one of the few true deductive scenes we get this episode. At least Watson enjoyed it, even as it turned into another Lesson in deduction for him.

And then Mr Melas arrived and the rest of the plot got started.

I do like how they use voiceovers and flashbacks in this episode. They’ve managed that part well. The suspense and fear caused by Kemp and Latimer towards Melas (and poor Kratides) throught the flashbacks and alternative POVs is excellent. The scenes at the house are particularly chilling.

I like the character of Mr Melas - he is quick-thinking despite his fear, and his realisation of what he can do as interpreter is a good one which he puts to use well.

As for Mycroft, well. For someone so smart, Mycroft’s blunder with the papers is easy to see. I’m with Sherlock on the wisdom of that idea. And then later, during Mycroft’s visit to 221b, it’s made plain that Sherlock understands the human cost better than Mycroft. (Again, Jeremy Brett’s microexpressions sell Sherlock’s concern in both scenes.)

I enjoyed the part where Sherlock and Watson are discussing the case so far as they walk - it’s another Detective Lesson for Watson, with Sherlock largely stepping back except where needed.

I like the scene with Melas at his boarding house - if you’re familiar with the genre of story, you know that the gentleman his housekeeper announces is unlikely to be who he says he is. And yet, after the ending of the previous scene, there’s a little hope. Until there isn’t. If only the Holmeses and Watson had been five minutes earlier!

The juxtaposition of the scenes of Melas, Kratides and captors + Holmeses, Watson and Gregson at Scotland Yard is well done too. Sherlock knows things are no doubt happening yet he’s forced to sit and twiddle his thumbs while they procure a warrant. And he hates it.

and then bang! The warrant arrives and they are off, with Sherlock’s impassioned words delivered in strident tones by Brett: “And pray that we are not too late!”

Unfortunately, from here, the pacing collapses. We’re at minute 34 of a 50-minute episode, and instead of it being a race to the finish, it’s... well. A bits and pieces stagger.

The race to the house, discovery of the villains’s flight, and then discovery of Melas and Mr Kratides is good.

Watson shouting orders to help Melas is great.

Holmes inspecting rooms was good too...

And there are some small moments on the train (e.g. the deductive bits, and the way Sherlock introduces himself by introducing Watson) that are fun.

But the rest is utter codswallop. The screenwriter for this episode didn’t understand canon Holmes at all - which means the Sherlock you see in this episode is in parts influenced by the fanon Holmes. Read Plaid Adder’s review if you want to hear more details about why it’s just... not right. One imagines the arguments that Jeremy Brett must have had about saying those lines.

If I’d been adapting this for fifty minutes, I think I’d have added more alternate POV/ flashback scenes at the start - like a different writer did in Dancing Men. This would mean that we would get Sofia Kratides’s story, and it would turn into what it almost was, a Woman in Need plot. In my adaption, Sofia Kratides’s story is tragic love gone wrong, where a young woman is swept off her feet by a dashing young man, only to slowly discover that he’s not as sweet as he appears, and really only wants her money.

This would then mean that Watson’s “Holmes, they’ve consulted a Bradshaw” line would occur no earlier than minute 45 of the show... instead of minute 37. I would have also stuck a lot closer to canon regarding the ending, because Granada Holmes made a hash of Sofia Kratides’s character, and Sherlock Holmes’s in the process (as mentioned above). In canon, apparently, Kemp and Latimer escaped with Sofia Kratides, and then Holmes and Watson hear some months later that Kemp and Latimer are dead, with H&W assuming that Sofia Kratides must have stabbed them. You could certainly make a desperate train chase out of that, where the abductors escape by the skin of their teeth, leaving Holmes furious and the viewers shocked. Then snap-cut to some months later and have either a Watson voiceover or H&W reading the newspaper explain things.

There. Fixed it. Glares.

Ugh. Anyway. It’s now well past my bedtime - I wanted to finish this recap so I could move onto the next episode. I’ve been looking forward to that one! Including the next episode, there are four more episodes left in the season. And I am really looking forward to feeling all the feels in the finale...

But for now, goodnight.

#granada holmes #the greek interpreter #watching granada holmes #storyteller’s thoughts #sherlock adaptations

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boldaciousbeing-blog · 2 years

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Writing prompt 474

You were born with special eyes, the sea was as clear as glass to you, by the time you got old enough to join a ship’s crew, you were smart enough to not tell them about everything you saw below the waves.

Story was inspired by the prompt provided by @writing-prompt-s

La Rouge

I was in my cabin the entire night trying to make sense of what I had seen in the water earlier. I was beyond intrigued and frightened at the same time. I had heard stories of Krakens and Loch Ness monsters as a child but I thought of it as folklore. The problem is, I was the only one who saw the creature and the crew I was working with had no idea of my gift to see through water.

I had my reasons for not telling them about my gift. I wanted everyone to know that I got my job fair and square. My gift was a bonus and it had become very useful in my profession. Being a marine biologist had always been a dream of mine. I loved the sea and learning about sea creatures. Which is why I'm on this voyage.

I had landed a grant to explore the Pacific Ocean as well sail across the world, in search of a creature that apparently was spotted five months ago by a group of fishermen that were returning back from sea. They had explained that it was serpent like, 100 ft long and scaley. Of course, all fish had scales but the way they had described this creature caught my attention. I needed to know if there was such a creature indeed and if there was I had to find it and protect it.

I laid back on my bed and closed my eyes. "Who and what are you? " I asked myself internally. A knock came from the door before it opened.

"Kathy, supper's ready," Leo said popping his head in.

I moaned and looked at him, "I'm gonna skip supper tonight. I had a big lunch," I lied.

Leo looked at me a bit stunned by my response. He walked in and closed the door behind him. He sat at the edge of my bed and surveyed me.

"Are you ok," he asked with a worried look.

"Yeah, I'm peachy. Just want to be alone," I said.

Leo and I had been friends for years but I had never told him about my gift. My family could never take the risk of anyone knowing. It was a way for my family to protect me.

"Are you sure, because you were fine earlier? Did something happen on deck or did one of the crew members harass you?" he asked non-stop.

"No… no… nooo! It's nothing like that, " I said, holding his hand. I breathed and continued, "I saw something while I was up there."

"What do you mean you saw something?" he asked.

"I mean I saw something in the water. And before you say it was a flying fish, it wasn't. We both know that they don't travel alone," I said, stopping him in his tracks.

"Well, it was worth a try," he teased.

He sighed and got up and walked towards my window. He stared out into the darkness of the water. If he only knew how colourful and beautiful it was.

"Do you think it could be 'Le Rouge'?" he asked thoughtfully

I sighed, "It's possible, I mean we are close to where it was spotted, but then again it could have been my imagination."

'Le Rouge' was the name we had given the creature. It just seemed fitting as the fishermen had also described the colour of the creature to be a reddish one.

"I don't think it was your imagination. The captain picked up something on his radar around the same time you were up on deck but by the time I got there it had disappeared. Poor man thought he was going mad and we brushed it off," he said.

"What! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to get you all excited for no reason. Remember we still need actual proof that 'Le Rouge' exists. That's the only way we can make this project successful," he said.

"I know, but we're not taking it into captivity. That would be cruel of us."

Leo smiled and gave me a hug. He knew very well how important sealife meant to me. He knew I would rather keep 'Le Rouge' a secret from the outside world but I wasn't up to me. If 'Le Rouge' wanted to be found, then he would make himself known to the world.

An unexpected knock came from the door. A desperate one too.

"Who is it?" I asked, walking towards the door.

"It's Lira!"

I opened the door and she came in full of excitement. Lira was my assistant and photographer. Thanks to her, I have been able to capture photos of my discoveries as well as on video.

"Great, Leo is here as well. You guys need to hear this," she said, full of excitement.

She played back a recording that she came across. It sounded like a whale but it was a bit louder and rough. It also sounded very mystical and very different from sea life. I looked at her as well as Leo.

"Could it be?" I asked, full of excitement.

"I've recorded many dolphin and whale sounds, this is something new," Lira said with a big smile.

"Guy's, this is a major breakthrough. We have to contact the office back home," Leo said.

"No! Not yet," I said, stopping him in his tracks, "We need another recording of the same sound. That way we can have proof that 'Le Rouge' may really exist. Even if we don't have a picture or video, this will be enough to convince our investor's that it may exist."

They looked at each other and agreed with me. They left to go back to the lab in order to save the sound and see if they could make it clearer. They left me behind as I wanted to journal these findings before joining them.

Hoping for one more glimpse of this marvelous creature, I walked towards the window and looked out into the dark abyss.

"I know you're out there 'Le Rouge'. I will find you and protect you. And that's a promise to both of us," I said softly.

The End!

#writing prompt #writing prompt s #short story #mythologyart

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tarotlogy · 2 years

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SIX OF CUPS

HOME, CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

KEYWORDS

Emotional Security, Being Cared for, Giving and Receiving, Openness, Sharing, Goodwill, Kindness, Charity, Gifts, Blessings, Simple Joys, Helping, Forgiveness, Peace, Harmony, Protected, Being Guarded by another, Calm, Contentment, Sanctuary, Fortress, Security, Restricted Freedom/Movement, Predictability, The Past, Past Influences, Nostalgia, Longing, Yearning, Homesick, Familiarity, Innocence, Trust, Childhood, Childhood Sweetheart/Friends, A Child/Baby, Young Person, Playful, Youthful, Courtship, Memories, Reminiscing, Trip down Memory Lane, The Homestead, Hometown, Old Haunts, Old Friends, The Good old Days, The Past, Childhood Issues/Abuse, Old Age, Senility, Nursing Homes, Nurseries

CARD DESCRIPTION AND IMAGERY

As we prepare to enter the Six of Cups, let us take a few moments to cast our mind back to the Five. When we last visited the Cups, it was very upsetting indeed and we worried about how the black cloaked Figure was going to recover sufficiently to find their way back over the bridge into life again. The Figure had friends or family standing by waiting to help but it was too soon to let anyone get close. Perhaps the Figure didn’t want to be comforted, preferring to wallow in their sadness instead. When we left the Cups behind to explore the other Suits we weren’t quite sure how long the Figure would stand there staring at the fallen Cups in front of them. Would they ever acknowledge their friends or see the bridge in the distance? It is true that damage was done but the Figure needed to come round to accepting that life had changed and possibly irrevocably. For the purpose of describing this Card we shall refer to the Figure from the Five of Cups as a she or her but it can equally be a he or him if you prefer.

Moving on to the Six, we are relieved to see that much light has come into the situation. It is obvious that the sad Figure eventually lifted her head, looked around and saw those who had stood by, waiting a long time. Reaching out to each other they embrace and tears fall all round. After much hugging and comforting, they take their first tentative steps towards the bridge, encouraging the fragile woman and assuring her that all will be well, for they are there to help. They will cross the bridge with her and any other ones they encounter along the way. Upon asking where she wants to go, she instantly replies “take me home. I want to go home”. Home, Homesickness, the Past, Past Influences, Nostalgia and Memories are key elements that accompany The Six of Cups.

If you have ever watched the movie Gone with The Wind, you will be familiar with the heroine of it, Scarlet O’Hara, who was played by Vivien Leigh. Scarlet was a wilful young woman who was strong-minded and quite self-centred. She had an terrible habit of drawing drama to herself. At times it was funny but at other times she had to endure terrible trauma, starvation and want. At these times of despair, Scarlett would reach a terrible low (like the Figure in Card Five) and often flung herself to the ground, unable to cope with the burden she had been given. Each time we thought she would not get up again as she had nothing left to fight for, but somehow or other she always managed to drag herself to her feet. The camera would zoom in on her face so that we could see the look of delirium before it was quickly replaced by a sudden dawning of realisation or inspiration. She would then dramatically declare, “I know what I will do. I will go home. That’s it, home to Tara”. With no time to lose, she would have found herself a wagon or horse for the journey and be off.

Tara was the large plantation family home she had grown up on and she loved every bit of it. Tara was where she got her strength from and it was to Tara she always ran when life got difficult or upsetting. Her parents, both gentle and loving, had infinite patience with her and put up with all the antics she got involved in. The staff and servants, although in despair of her at times for not acting lady-like enough, indulged her childish ways and selfish attitude. Tara was where she felt safe, loved, cared for and properly fed. It also was home to all her precious childhood memories. No matter how bad life was, she was bound to feel better once she returned to Tara. She was always Homesick for Tara.

The Six of Cups nicely displays this scenario as we get a feel for the atmosphere contained within the Card. After times of loss, sadness or despair we often take comfort and solace from familiar places and those we have known the longest, such as old friends and family. We crave what is secure and steady as we have coped with enough change for the moment. In the Six of Cups, her friends or family members will happily take her home to ensure that she is well cared for and loved back to her natural warm self once more. Back in the bosom of her family and friends she won’t have to think of a thing, for everyone will be eager to smooth the way for her. They will protect her as much as they can, and if at all possible, shield her from further pain. The woman looks at her friends and realises how lucky she is to have been blessed with such good people in her life. They have known her throughout good and bad times. They have shared both tears of laughter and sobs of sorrow. Their very act of kindness begins to remove some of the chill from her heart and she is glad to accept all offers of help. In the Six of Cups, the woman’s loyal friends will stand by her and look for nothing in return. This is what friends are for and they know that she would do the same for them if the situation was reversed. They all have history between them or go back a long way.

As the Figure returns to the Family Home to heal, she inhales the permanence of all she sees in front of her. She feels relieved to see that very little has changed. The road down to the house still looks the same and the local town makes her giggle as she recalls buying ice-cream and staring across at the boys coming out from the record store on the street corner. She screams “Oh my God, there’s Mrs Gordon, she can’t be still alive can she? as she sees a small rotund woman cross the road to the pharmacy. “Sure she was ancient when I was a little one. She must be at least 200 years old” . And there is Mr. Godfrey, the butcher, still writing up his daily specials on the old chalk sandwich board outside his shop. He looks at her and then looks again but does not nod or wave. She smiles to herself. She knows he has recognised her but just can’t put a name to the face. Laughing, she is hit by a sudden pang of strong nostalgia as she sees the old oak tree on the avenue where she used to hang out. Carved into the ancient gnarled bark, large as ever, are her initials intertwined by those of her first love, her childhood sweetheart, Joe. She racks her brain to think of when she last saw him and wonders what he ever did with his life; was he married, did he have kids, was he even still alive?

As she pulls up outside her family home, she releases a deep breath and acknowledges that she should visit more often. Children play happily on the street and scurry round her as she takes her bags from the boot of the car. They ask her name and what she is doing. She chats with them for a while and watches them play. She can’t believe they still do skipping outside no 10. For a moment she is transported back in time and sees herself holding one end of the rope while her friend, Cathy, holds the other. Their little skipping song runs through her head and she is surprised to remember all the words. She suddenly feels a lump rise in her throat and her eyes fill with tears. Looking back, she thinks of how simple life was as a child, how innocent and carefree they all were. When did it all get so complicated? If only she could go back to being one of these children playing on the street, then she would not have to deal with difficult decisions or feel any pain except when she fell on the ground. Even back then, when she was upset, there was always mother or father to sort things out and make everything feel better. Now she craves that attention once more and is looking forward to being looked after in the coming weeks.

As she stands beside the children, all grown up in comparison to their childishness, we see the yearning for those simple days of innocence symbolised in the two Figures in Card Six. In The Six of Cups, we see one Figure tenderly handing a Cup with a white Lily to a smaller Figure who wears White Gloves. The White Gloves are symbolic of innocence, fragility and protection. The smaller Figure looks up to the taller one with rapt attention and seems to be entranced with what he has to say. It looks like a very special moment is being shared. As they stand in their garden, they feel safe and protected. A Guard patrols the area and buildings which appear very close to each other ensuring that nothing of any danger will get in. The Guard and Walls also prevent the children from straying out of their safe environment into possible danger.

The children look as if they have just raided a Dressing-Up Box as their clothes look unsuitable for their childish frames. They might be playing Make-Believe Games and pretending to be older than they actually are. The taller Figure does appear to be older than the smaller one but there is an air of acceptance and sharing between them. He is happy to give and she, happy to receive.

The girl in our story stares at the children wishing to be one of them again while the children look up to her and wish they could be all grown up, just like her. The children wish to learn from her and they have much of value to offer her. There is mutual enjoyment in their observations even if they are a bit whimsical.

Walking up the driveway, she runs her hand along the smooth paintwork of her father’s old Ford. Bits of rust are dotted here and there but otherwise it still looks the same. Even the old floral scatter cushions are still on the back seat. Nothing has changed. Inside the house, her parents have taken turns to watch out for her arrival and now they burst out the door eager to hug and embrace their daughter who is in need of their help. They had extended the invitation some time ago “you know you can always come home sweetheart, your room is still there and we would be so happy to have you”. However, in her early stages of sadness and pain she had just wanted to be alone and wait for everything to return to normal. When it didn’t, home she thought she would never get. Dragging her inside the house, her mother assured her that dinner was just ready and that her father would fetch her bags out of the car.

Her bedroom looked the same as it did the day she left it several years ago. It even had the same smell which conjured up all sorts of memories of teenage perfumes and nail varnish. Her mother had laid out fresh towels for her and everything was just so. Sitting down on the pink eider-down cover on her bed, she felt momentarily lost and panicked. Caught between two worlds, the past and the future, she was unsure of what she should do next. For the moment, she was home and as Scarlet O’Hara often said “I can’t think about this right now, I can’t. I will go crazy if I do. I know, I will think about it tomorrow. That’s right, I’ll think about it tomorrow. For tomorrow is, another day.”

In the Six of Cups the woman spends a wonderful period of time being cared for and looked after by her adoring parents. Meals are laid out on the table and her clothes washed, ironed and hung back in her room again. Nothing is asked of her, not even questions about all the trauma she had been through. They had told her to take her time, and only when she felt ready, then she could fill them in on all that went on. She was happy with that as pressure from any side was the last thing she wanted or needed. She just had to find her balance one more and feel peace of mind.

She spent her days helping her father in the back garden. They planted White Lilies in Gold Pots and placed them on the patio. The back garden was bordered by an Old Tall Brick Wall and Houses (the background buildings). As a child, she had thought that the Wall towered high up into the sky, but now, it just seemed average height to her. It was funny she thought, how one’s perspective as a child can be so different. She and her friends had used that Wall in many of their games. At times it was a strong Fortress Wall to keep out the enemy and at other times, it was their Castle Wall as they danced around in princess dresses. Now, it was just a Wall and the neighbours houses behind seemed much closer than she remembered. Oh to have the wild imagination of a young child she mused.

At other times, she went shopping with her mother or fetched groceries for Mrs. Armstrong, the elderly lady two doors down who could no longer get around. As a child, she had not spoken much to Mrs Armstrong and as a teenager and young adult had nothing at all in common with her. In fact she had never been in her house before but here she was, happily shopping for her, mowing her lawn and sipping tea with the old lady over a friendly chat. Who would have thought it? Her being Community Spirited and doing Kind Deeds for the neighbours! It made her feel good inside and was far more rewarding to think of others for a while and not just herself. Mrs. Armstrong was far more inquisitive than her parents and asked constantly about her situation. She probably didn’t have many callers so enjoyed the bit of companionship and gossip when she got it.

The children on the street often asked her to come out and play. She was happy to oblige them. She showed them some of the games she played as a child, which of course she then had to join in on just to make sure they got it right. She had a great time but wished she had more of their energy.

Life moved on nicely and as each day passed, she became stronger, healthier and more balanced in herself. She no longer constantly thought about her situation but just enjoyed the simple things in life. She watched television with her parents and got hooked on the old black and white movies they forced her to watch. She called in on old school friends who still lived in the neighbour hood, catching up and even babysitting for them on occasions. She was happy in herself, that is, until two things happened and it seemed to take off from there. Change was coming once more. Those hazy days of summer began to blow away.

On one of her trips to the local store she encountered Joe, her childhood sweetheart, at the counter. She was surprised to see him as she had heard he now lived abroad. Joe wasn’t as shocked to see her for his parents had told him she was home. As they spoke her heart beat very fast and she felt awkward in her speech. She couldn’t wait to get away from him as she was not suitably dressed for such encounters. Her hair hadn’t been washed in two days and her clothes were soiled from working in the garden. Joe didn’t seem to notice and looked her over admiringly a few times. He told her he would be around for a while as his father was recovering from a stroke and he had come home to help with the business.

When she went home that day, she made casual enquiries from her mother about Joe and found out that he had been married but that his wife had left him for her boss. He had two children but the ex-wife had custody of them. “Poor man” her mother sighed. “Apparently, he only gets to see them two or three times a year”. She also found out from her mother that he lived and worked in France but often travelled as part of his job. He was single as far as she knew. And so, her content calm state vanished. All she could do was think about Joe even though she hadn’t a clue why. She was not in the market for a man, certainly not after all she had been through. Imagine, after all these years, getting back with your childhood sweetheart. It was the stuff movies were made of but daft otherwise. However, she did spend an awful lot of time after that going up and down to the shops for the slightest thing. She had several encounters with Joe, at first just standing on the street talking, then it was coffee, then a drink and before they knew it, they were going out on dates.

The second change came when her parents started to push about her plans for the future. They were eager to promote Joe to her and kept going on about how nice a man he was. Her mother occasionally read her texts if she left her phone lying around and often walked into the living room while they were having a kiss or cuddle. It also started to annoy her that no matter where she put things in her bedroom, her mother would come in and move them around. Things she hadn’t noticed before began to irritate her. Every time she went out with Joe they asked were they were going and what time they would be back at? Would she be having dinner with them or were they eating out? Sometimes they didn’t know where they were going, when they would be back or whether lunch or dinner was included but her parents, especially her mother, needed to know for some reason or other. She began to remember that the same thing annoyed her years ago and she used to say to her best friend back then that she couldn’t wait to move out. How had she forgotten?

She began to feel the four walls close in around her. Everywhere she went, there they were, asking if she was okay and wanting to know what she was doing or planning to do. Even when she sought peace and quiet in the back garden it wouldn’t be long until her father appeared out from behind a bush needing help with the pruning or picking up leaves. They seemed to be everywhere and anywhere. She also felt she was being watched by the neighbours on the far side of the garden wall who she often found in deep chat with her mother. When she tried to lose a bit of weight by cutting down on some of the constant feeding that was going on, her mother took it as a personal insult and sulked.

What had happened to change things so much she thought as she stood staring out the window at the children playing. The answer came quickly enough. For that blissfully unaware period of time she had worn those old Rose Tinted Glasses that she didn’t even realise she possessed. Her need for comfort and security had caused temporary amnesia or had strangely altered her recollection of the past. Now when she looked at her parents, the lines on their face became more pronounced. Her mother seemed stuck in habits and routines, cooking and cleaning for a family long gone. Her father more worryingly so, appeared not completely with-it at times. He was forgetful and she noticed he sometimes talked about things he needed to do in the garden that he had already done the day before. He also had a bad shake in his left hand and very rarely took the car out of the driveway anymore. He seemed tired and looked so small at times. Like Scarlet O’Hara, who arrives back at Tara after fighting her way through “those damn Yankees” she finds that everything has changed. Her mother is laid out in the front parlour after dying that day and her father’s mind is half-gone. He still thinks the mother is alive. Scarlet, who was used to running home every time there was a problem, now has to face the fact that Tara has changed. Her mother is dead and her father out of his mind. There is no food in the house or crops in the field. Scarlet, hungry, tired and drained realises that she can no longer rely on her parents to sort out her life because everyone now relies on her. She has to grow up rather fast.

Why had she thought things hadn’t changed? Was it that she so desperately needed the comfort of familiarity when she herself had felt so unsteady and unsure. Change was the last thing she needed for so much had already changed in her life. She fooled herself into thinking that she could keep everything the same but she now realised she had no control over that. Change would always come and what she needed right now was some of the very thing she had tried to avoid, Change.

One thing was for certain, she could no longer stay where she was. She had enjoyed her time at home, being looked after by her family and friends. Even the neighbours had helped, the kids on the road too, but now she had come to the stage where she felt cramped and restricted by her environment. Yes, it was just what the doctor had ordered at the time and she would heartily recommend it to anyone in her situation, but only for a short period of time. Life and the world outside, were carrying on without her. If she did not move her life on soon, she would begin to stagnate. She must now take responsibility for her own life and not lean on others so much. She felt safe and secure in the knowledge that she had good friends, wonderful family and a place she could always call home so it could not harm to dip her toe in ocean once more. She was truly blessed to have been given a second chance and could look positively to the future. Back in the Five, she had thought her life over but now in the Six, she realised it was only just begining.

She felt ready to face the world again and take on a few new challenges in life. Ready to open her heart to forgiveness and move on, she felt healed and much stronger but also confused as to what exactly it was she wanted to do. Joe was heading back to France shortly and she should think about heading off too. She no longer had the heavy sadness looming over her so her head was free to properly explore her options. For the first time in a long time, she felt excited about her future. She was ready to find herself but first she must identify her needs, desires and feelings before taking off in just any old direction. She loved her parents very much but accepted that once she had left home all those years ago to make a life for herself there was never going to be a way to go back to those carefree days of childhood again. Yes, she would always visit and she could see they were getting older but for now they were fine and she would need to make her own way in life once more.

As she watched her mother and father going about their chores, her heart almost burst with emotion. They were indeed getting older. They had done nothing wrong. They were doing what they always did and were happy to. She now saw them similar to children who needed to be minded and not the other way around. She would worry about them in the way they had worried about her but she knew that should the time come when they would need her, she would be home in a heart beat to tend and care for them, for that is what you do for the people you love. It is unconditional and does not come with strings attached.

As for Joe and their future, only time would tell. If they were meant to be together then it would happen but for now she would not worry as she had a lot to plan for and some packing to do.

On the day she left home again, her mother and father stood in the driveway, tears welling up in their eyes. She would be home again soon she assured them. She wouldn’t leave it so long again. Just as she was preparing to pull away from the kerb, her father put his hand up and asked her to wait. He had forgotten to give her something. He disappeared around the side of the house and into the back garden. He seemed to be gone forever but then reappeared. He had something in his hand. In through the window of the car he handed her one of the White Lilies they had planted in the gold flower pots (innocence, beauty, gift). “This one is for you my dear. Mind you look after it as well as I have looked after mine. Plenty of water and sunshine and they will be as right as rain”. She took the White Lily, holding his hand for a few seconds before letting it go. “What a lovely gift. Don’t worry, I will look after it well. You know, I did pick up a few things about gardening from watching you over the last few weeks. You are a good teacher” she replied and promised to ” treasure it forever”. As she drove out through the town, she noticed how tired and faded it all looked, but didn’t care, for this would always be home to her, her Tara, the place she loved, and one day, she would bring her own children here. She would proudly show them where she grew up and tell them all the wonderful stories of her childhood. Hopefully her parents would still be around to share them with and who knows, maybe they would plant some White Lily bulbs.

If you like the story line above why not watch Gone With The Wind for yourself and see how you can apply the Six of Cups to aspects of the storyline. Another movie which focuses on the return to the homestead after upset and pain stars Sandra Bullock and is called Hope Floats (1998). Sandra plays the role of a woman Roberta (Birdiee) Pruitt who thinks she is happily married until she is publicly humiliated on a live show when it is revealed to her that her husband is having an affair with her best friend. Taking her daughter Bernice (Mae Whitman) and whatever she can pack into the car, she returns to her family home in Smithville, Texas and to her eccentric mother Ramona, played by Gena Rowlands and father Bill (Michael Parre) . Unlike Scarlet O’Hara who was constantly running home, Birdiee has a tough time readjusting and finds the town pretty much as she left it. However, there is a romantic tie-up with a childhood friend Justin, played by Harry Connick Jnr. It is a lovely story and nice to watch how her mother, regardless of Birdiee’s disinterest, does her best to mind her and bring her out of herself. Birdiee also has to face the fact that her mother is not getting any younger and has health problems. Her father is also struggling with Alzheimers Disease. Birdiee’s daughter has also to settle into her new environment and the transition is not easy for her either.

Going home brings it blessings and curses into Birdiee’s life as she struggles with divorce and a child who wants her father back. At times, she feels she has stepped back in time and is a complete failure. She is very different to the woman who left home and Smithville many years before, but the town’s attitude to her has not altered over the years. The walls of the Six of Cups and over-closeness of everyone drive Birdiee to distraction and near suffocation at times. Birdiee has many ups and downs to go through before she can find balance and stability in her life. She also has to come to terms with her past, her neighbours and make peace with her family so that she can build a future for her and her daughter. She eventually finds healing in the very last place she thought she would.

Her story has a different outcome to mine above but it does have that warm wholesome feel of The Six of Cups even though it is not always a bed of roses. A real feel-good movie for sure.

MEANING

When the Six of Cups appears in a Spread, it often suggests that the past is being focussed upon or that the issues surrounding the Reading are being influenced by something in your past. By looking into your past, you may find the answer, solution or at least an explanation. Memories of the past flood in. For some reason or other, the past is significant in your life right now and you must ask why? It may be due to your current situation not bringing you the happiness you seek. If you were happy in the past, and it does not necessarily mean childhood, then you could be yearning for the old days or how things used to be.

The Six of Cups can also act as a warning that you are living in or fixated with the past. If you are too rooted in the past it stops your forward progress and there is a danger of becoming shut down and very narrow-minded. Your memory of the past may be distorted, based more on fiction rather than fact. If you continue to live in the past, life will pass you by and leave you behind.

If you have been through a tough time, then the Six of Cups can suggest that you are, or need to, seek support or solace from friends and family at this time. You may feel safer and more comfortable with familiar faces and places so it is not a good time for starting new things or heading off on your own. If you need to talk to someone about a problem then it should be someone who knows you well as he or she will better understand your situation and how it is affecting you. There are many you know who would gladly help. They may be standing by waiting for you to make the first move. Perhaps, an older member of the family who you look up to and respect? They may be only too willing to share some wise experience with you.

The Six of Cups may signify a time when you return to the family home or locations from the past to heal and restore. Feeling nervous and insecure you may hunger after safety and security. You may feel the need, or crave, to be looked after and cared for by others. You may not feel capable of looking after yourself right now which is understandable if you are recovering from loss or trauma. After all the insecurity the sadness and loss the Five brought, one seeks a place of sanctuary. A need to be shielded from the pain of life in the outside world encourages the retreat into the guarded fortress. Nothing is going to get at you in here. You are safe, for the moment anyway. You need to heal and find emotional stability so accept any offers of help that come your way without feeling guilty or imposing. You must learn how to receive graciously and thankfully. All offers of help are genuine and sincere, so relax in the knowledge that you will do the same for them if ever the need arises. Don’t worry about being indebted to those who help at present for you will naturally find a way of returning the compliment. You may be surprised by the goodwill and kindness that is extended to you. Many around you are interested in your welfare and only want the best for you. Expect spontaneous acts of charity, sharing and benevolence. Rest assured, peace and harmony will return to your life very shortly.

Giving or Receiving a beautiful Gift may be represented by The Six of Cups. The Gift may be a present or surprise but it might also be an inherited Gift such as a talent or skill. There may also be the Gift of Forgiveness. You could be either the giver or recipient of this Healing Gift. You may inherit the family home, part of it or some valuable belongings or you could be making your will. As we see the taller Figure hand the Cup down to the Smaller one, it can symbolise that some one is entrusting into your care an item of great emotional worth and significance. You will need to care for it as they once did. There may be a Teacher willing to share their knowledge if you are interested. The Six of Cups brings a time for counting your blessings and enjoying the simple things in life. The Six of Cups Reversed, depending on surrounding Cards can suggest being left a wonderful gift by a parent.

Being cared for and fussed over is wonderful, and at the moment, may be just what the doctor ordered, but eventually this very security and cossetting (castle walls, building and guard) will become claustrophobic and restricting. Staying under this influence should only be temporary otherwise there will be a risk to your personal development and growth. Return to life and personal responsibility as soon as you can.

The Six of Cups is an extremely nostalgic card. It speaks about childhood and reminiscing about days of yore. Generally, The Upright Six brings happy memories and fond recollections of times gone by. The Six of Cups may simply represent a time when we take a trip down memory lane just for the sake of it. You may be sorting through old photographs, watching old movies or sharing memories with friends and family. Mostly, we rush around each day, caught up in what is happening now, what we have to do next and where we are going later. Very occasionally when the mood is right or a memory trigger presents itself, we are suddenly spun back in time and our mind unlocks the wonderful gems of our past. A significant song on the radio as we drive or the scent of freshly baked bread or scones can readily set us off. As the memories floods over us, we can re-experience and remember who we were, where we came from and the significant people or pets who shared our environment. There is however, a tendency to be selective with our memories. We all maintain that summers were better when we were children. The sun always seemed to be shining, we were always laughing and having fun out on the street with our friends and sweets were bigger and tastier. Ah, the Good Old Days! This can lead to you thinking about people not seen or heard of in years or even the desire to visit old haunts or previous locations. You may get great joy out of all your reminiscing but it may also leave you feeling melancholic and emotional for a past that cannot be retrieved.

If you are middle-aged or older, then taking a trip down memory lane can be a little upsetting or destabilising. You may feel the loss of your youth, physical strength or health as a stark contrast to the fit and able-bodied young person you were many years ago. Nostalgia connected with old age is also represented in The Six of Cups as the long-term memory kicks in and short-term memory diminishes. Senility can be represented as the adult faces regress into childlike behaviour indicated by their size and dress. Nursing homes can be represented with this Six. The Six of Cups can indicate returning to the family home to look after an ageing or ill parent as the roles of parent and child reverse. You could also be taking them into your own home. You may find this emotionally rewarding and fulfilling but regardless of how much you love the parent involved, you are bound to feel trapped and claustrophobic at times.

Then again, you may be taking a physical trip down memory lane as childhood places are revisited and childhood friends re-discovered. You may be attending a school reunion (look for the Three of Cups) or family gathering (Four of Wands). Funerals are one of the best times for meeting faces from the past and sharing memories. Older relatives, cousins, friends and neighbours often travel from the four corners of the globe to pay their respects. This in itself shows strong solidarity, caring, compassion and sympathy for the bereaved. However, it is one of those surreal times when the past and all the characters from it make a reappearance. Much sharing of tales and reminiscing can turn what could be a very sad time into a wonderful memorable occasion. You may learn some interesting things about people from your past at times like this. You may promise to keep in touch or wish to re-start old friendships and connections. It may just be “all talk” on the day or a genuine commitment.

The Six of Cups brings the Family into strong focus. When we are growing from childhood into young adulthood, we seek freedom and wish to personally express ourselves by living our own life independent from parents, restrictions and other’s routines. We set about making this new life outside the confines of the family and may leave long gaps between trips home or indeed phone calls made. We can get so caught up in our present, and making big plans for our future, that there is precious little time for anything else except current friends and social scene. However, as we get older, once we have had a happy upbringing, we are often drawn back to the home and re-establish strong contact with parents and other family members. Rather than be embarrassed by our family, we realise that we are actually quite like them and have much in common. We no longer see them as the spoiler of fun or disciplinarian rule-setters but rather as human beings of great worth and value. Most of us gravitate back to the family as we get older especially when we have children of our own. It can therefore represent a time for feeling or re-connecting to your roots.

If you live far away from family for work or relationship reasons, then the Six of Cups can suggest that you are terribly homesick. This may be only a passing phase or one that you find intolerable and depressing. They say that you should give any new location or environment six months at the very least before making any decisions as you need this time to settle in and readjust. If you haven’t tried before, then set up a Skype Account or one similar, but make sure to get everyone else on board too so that you can all keep in visual contact. It may help you through this difficult time. You may be realising the importance of your family for the first time.

The Six of Cups readily represents children and the innocence of childhood. You may be thinking of having children or enjoy their company and playing with them. You may be looking after your grandchildren while their parents work or wish you could see more of them. You may be getting great joy being a parent second time round. You may be working on your inner-child and learning how to bring fun or play into your life.

This card, because it relates so much to childhood, can suggest that childhood issues may be re-surfacing or coming back to haunt you. If you are experiencing problems in your life they may have originated in your childhood if the Six of Cups appears so it is a good place to start from. Life may be too harsh for you now and you may seek the comfort and support that the innocence of childhood brought. It may be a sign that you do not want to take responsibility for your self or situation. You may have a habit of letting others sort out your problems all the time instead of tackling them yourself. You may hanker after the loss of a mother or father and spend time revisiting childhood haunts trying to re-capture their essence. You may also be holding on to all their belongings, afraid to let go of the past.

In a relationship reading, The Six of Cups can represent a relationship with someone from your past or an old sweetheart. If looking for love, then you may find it in your old home town or on a trip home. The love of your life may even be living next door or at the least not very far away. This Six in a Relationship Reading can also highlight a Past Love or Lover interfering or causing issues in your current relationship. They may turn up out of the blue and set you all aglow. You may not have severed the ties in an old romance or still hanker after an old love. There may be a third person in your relationship but their presence may be either an influence from the past or an actual reality (a real person). You may be comparing your current partner to an Old Flame you never got over. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and you may be viewing an old relationship with Rose Tinted Glasses. You may be very naive, innocent or idealistic when it comes to relationships or very gullible. You may also be looking for a ‘Father Figure’ so look out for The Emperor falling close by in a Reading. The Six of Cups can represent seeking your parents approval of your current partner or fiance. You may be travelling home to break the news of your engagement. Look to surrounding cards for further insight.

The Six of Cups appearing in a Relationship Spread can suggest that you feel safe and secure with your partner. There is genuine tenderness, caring and a strong sense of protection. The relationship suggested may not be very exciting or dramatic but will be steady, stable and more than likely predictable. It is a relationship based on routines and habits. Generally one partner takes on the role of provider and carer while the other is happy to be looked after. Most important decisions are made by the carer who shields his or her partner from any unpleasant business or stressful situations. The carer may have the tendency to wrap their partner in cotton wool or treat them like a china doll. In the Upright Six, this arrangement is harmonious and works well. The Carer is happy to take on the bulk of responsibility and the Cared For, equally happy to relinquish it. Each brings their own worth and value to the relationship, which strikes a content balance. This Six often symbolises the ‘old fashioned’, ‘traditional’ style relationship.

You may be longing for someone to look after you and take care of you or vice versa. The Six of Cups can also refer to a time of courtship or receiving a gift from the one you love. If you are in a stable relationship, you could possibly be thinking about having a family. If you have a child or children then you may be conscious of passing down the good morals and values you were reared with (the Lily in the Cup).

The Six of Cups also deals with nursing and caring for a partner who is senile or very old. There is great love and tenderness between this couple who will be there for each other in ‘sickness and in health’.

In a Career Reading, the Six of Cups often represents working with children as in Nursing or Montessori. There is a strong focus on protecting those who are young and innocent so a career as a social worker may be the right thing for you. You may also be dealing with people who had abusive childhoods, so a position that helped people overcome early trauma such as psychotherapy or hypno-analysis may be suitable and rewarding. You might also consider volunteering on help-lines or giving time to youth groups. You might be providing classes or workshops to those under guard such as in prisons or reform schools or facilitating group therapy for addicts or alcoholics. Any career involving making one feeling safe and secure can be suggested such as healing, meditation or massage. A career caring for the elderly or in a Nursing Home can also be represented by the Six of Cups. You may be taking time out from your career to nurse an elderly parent.

The Six of Cups can sometimes highlight a career that is filled with habits, routines and patterns. There may be a motherly figure in the work environment who looks upon her staff as her children. Your interest in an old career may be re-ignited or you might decide to develop a childhood talent or skill. Beautifiying surroundings may also be of interest such as developing show gardens or doing up old properties. A secure comfortable position is often suggested by this Six but it may lack excitement or challenge. Depending on the surrounding Cards, this may be suitable at the moment but you are bound to get bored in the not too distant future. It can also suggest going for the long haul in a position or with a company as in joining young and leaving old.

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snowgreys · 2 years

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Captain nemo

The Royal Physician's Visit Other books of interest under review:.Other books by Per Olov Enquist under review: The complete review's Per Olov Enquist page.He also does more, ably playing with literary form and with writing itself - without ever trying too hard. This is no childhood idyll, but it is a hopeful little saga: strength of will and belief carry him through.Įnquist tells a good story - from the hospital mix-up to the narrator's efforts to find Johannes and Eeva-Lisa again Enquist keeps the reader interested. In the dark, cold Swedish countryside, a land of silence and secrets, the narrator tries to make his way, helping the doomed Eeva-Lisa and then finding her again. Sparely and deceptively simply presented, Captain Nemo's Library presents a neat story that comes together very well. The end is revealed at the beginning, but the pieces necessary for understanding how the narrator reaches it (and indeed what he means) are only presented piece by piece.Ĭomposed of many relatively short passages and sections, the narrator describes his youth and the episodes with Eeva-Lisa that lead back to Johannes - and Nemo and the Nautilus. The children then grow up in the right households, with their actual parents, but in fact they grow up in the wrong households.Įach misses the world he has been removed from.Įventually they set out to set things right again, leading to the Nautilus and its library.Įnquist's novel has a prologue, four parts, and an epilogue. The world is unbalanced when the original mistake is undone. Johannes got a dozen after the switch of households, and he passes one on: Verne's The Mysterious Island, with its tale of the Nautilus, determining the end that Johannes and the narrator must meet.Ī third character figures prominently as well: Eeva-Lisa, a playmate-substitute and companion given to Johannes, but also a girl who becomes a significant figure in the narrator's life. The narrator never had any books in his youth. The two were switched at birth, something that is only discovered (or realized) when they are five or so.Īfter a prolonged legal battle the two switch families: it is 1940, they are six years old and their worlds have been thrown upside down.Ī bond still unites the two throughout their youth. The story of Captain Nemo's Library largely deals with the life of two childhood friends, the narrator and his friend Johannes, in bleak northern Sweden. Verne's book and character are a release for the narrator here, a different kind of escape into the world of fiction. Per Olov Enquist's novel has little to do with Jules Verne's great character Nemo, the captain who ventured twenty-thousand leagues under the sea, or the shipboard library of the fantastic submarine. General information | review summaries | our review | links | about the authorĪ- : well-conceived and well-written tale from darkest Sweden Trying to meet all your book preview and review needs. Captain Nemo's Library - Per Olov Enquist

#Captain nemo

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kimvvantae · 2 years

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gravity ▸ knj (m)

➜ 5 months after the breakup, you're still gravitating around each other, no matter how hard you try not to. the only way to finally free yourselves from this pull is to let your orbits collide one last time.

pairing: namjoon x (f) reader

genre: smut, angst • exes au, porn with plot

warnings: infidelity. explicit sexual content (rough sex, oral (m receiving, throat fucking), fingering, spitting, hair pulling, ass slapping, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, nj has a gigantic d). alcohol consumption. smoking. brief mentions of vomiting. let me repeat: INFIDELITY, do not read if this type of content makes you uncomfortable!. basically sad porn

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

word count: 11k

A/N: this is a work of fiction, i do not glorify the actions of the characters. other than that, please feast some sad porn! special thanks to my brother abel tesfaye for inspiring me into writing this mess. as usual, feedback is MUCH MUCH appreciated!

➜ MASTERLIST | PLAYLIST | FEEDBACK

It’s ridiculous that Namjoon immediately spotted you as soon as you walked in.

It happened again. He thought he was over it already - over you. The magnetism. There’s no other word to describe the phenomenon that happens whenever you are around. Like a tiny, stupid planet being attracted to a heavy gravitational spot… a star. You. Indeed, the brightest star in this crowded room, so crowded that it’s almost impossible to cross it without bumping into someone.

It’s like a sick joke. Why did he have to notice you so quickly? Why suddenly, as soon as he laid his eyes on you, everything else seemed pale and uninteresting in comparison? The loud music isn’t as exciting anymore, nor the chat he was having with his friends a mere second ago. The beer he just swallowed suddenly tastes like iron as it slides down his throat. Everything and everyone becomes distant - only noises in the back of his head, only blurred faces.

Except you.

He can see you in detail.

The tight, short black dress. So tight. It enhances every curve of your body. Namjoon doesn’t recognize this dress, which means you bought it after the break up. He loves it - the sight makes him hold the bottle of beer a little tighter. You wear a leather jacket over it, though, to protect you from the chilly night out there, which makes him a little disappointed - he’d like to see your figure in the dress, in all its glory, without anything to hide it.

The hairstyle and perfect makeup… Namjoon just knows you took hours to look as good as you look right now - although, in his opinion, you look just as incredible without any of it. He remembers all the times you went out together, you texting him that you were “almost done” when in fact you hadn’t even showered yet - which sometimes annoyed him, but the final result was always worth the wait, and he always made sure to show how he appreciated your efforts afterwards. He can almost see you in front of the bathroom mirror, angrily searching for the foundation bottle you lost again, until you’d ask if he’d just watch and laugh or would help you find it.

How many memories can flood his mind in such short seconds?

It’s been five months. Five months without seeing you. No hearing the sound of your laughter, no texts, no dates, no touching or tasting you. Five months of not seeing each other after three years of seeing each other almost every day.

When you took the decision to break up, his most optimistic friends - and his family - called it freedom. Namjoon, however, faced it as punishment. Torture. It was painful to live away from you. The endless fights seemed meaningless in comparison. No… deep down, Namjoon knows he's lying to himself. He misses the fights. Like a drug addict in abstinence, he can’t help but miss the things that harmed him.

You were a drug. You made him high. For three years, he was intoxicated by your face, your body, your voice; your fun side, your focused side, your caring side, your intelligent side. Your awful side. The unjustified jealousy. The bad temper. The disagreements and arguments. The sex. God - no one else made him feel that way. It’s like you memorized his body like a map; you knew exactly what to do, where to touch. One look from across the room was enough to make his body get a fever. The fun sex when you were on your better weeks and the angry sex when you were on your worst ones.

At some point, the awful side became much more apparent than all the others in his point of view. And yet, he carried on with this relationship as much as he could, because he was addicted - he needed the adrenaline and bliss to stay alive. Until it got unsustainable. Until you finally decided to let go.

And, as soon as you gave the final word, Namjoon realized he’s a masochist. No sane person would miss a relationship so broken like that; not when the fights became much more frequent than any happy moment. But he couldn’t help missing you badly. Even though he did every possible effort to avoid meeting you, even though he blocked you on every social media - it didn’t work. Going on dates with other girls didn’t work. Not to say they weren’t pretty enough, interesting enough or that the sex wasn’t good enough… but they weren’t you.

Namjoon is just a stupid, tiny planet, stuck in your gravitational orbit. He is reminded of this fact the moment he sees you. He was never healed from you. He never detoxified from you.

You, on the other hand, seem to be doing much better than him.

One second after stepping in, he walks in too, fingers intertwined with yours.

Namjoon heard the rumors from common friends. He brushed it off with faked disinterest, but he was too weak to not care. Unblocking your Instagram profile for the first time in months was enough. He saw the picture.

Mark. He knows this guy. An easy-going, extroverted type of guy. Apparently a good person.

By all accounts - considering how his life felt like literal hell at some point while you were together -, Namjoon should hope you found someone that would make you feel as bad as you made him feel. Yes, he could be vengeful like that. Or… he still has feelings for you, that’s undeniable - so, from this standpoint, he should hope Mark was a good guy to you, hope he would treat you right… how could he wish something bad upon someone he cared for?

Wait.

No.

Namjoon shouldn’t care for whoever his ex was dating at all. It shouldn’t affect him anymore.

But it does.

The sight of this Mark guy holding your hand and smiling at you - and you smiling back - irks him up. The realization that you spent hours getting ready for him irks him. You look happy.

Namjoon is a damn addict. A pathetic junkie. A tiny, stupid planet orbiting around you.

Although he just got here, he knows he needs to leave. His night is over anyway. It’d be better if he managed to leave before you could notice him - like this, at least, he’d still have a little bit of dignity intact.

However - what Namjoon doesn’t know is that, despite appearances, this magnetism is a two way road.

Because you spot him almost immediately, too.

When your eyes meet his, the smile fails. You stand there, frozen, shocked, before Mark puts his hand on your waist, totally unaware of the situation.

You avoid Namjoon’s gaze and look back at your current boyfriend. Smile again. This smile is an act, though. Namjoon can read you like an open book.

Namjoon gulps.

He should probably leave.

But he won’t. He can’t. He knows it.

Your gravitational field forces him to stay.

He’s just a stupid little planet, after all. How could he fight against the pull of a star?

Babe, I want to leave.

It’s what you want to say as soon as you see Namjoon sitting there. You want to grab Mark’s hand and walk away. But fuck - how can you, when this is Mark’s best friend’s party? He’s been talking about it for days. You can’t ask him to leave, nor can you leave without him.

You don’t want to stay in the same place as him. No, no, no. Just no.

How could you know he’d be here? You've been avoiding him so carefully for the past five months. You always made sure that Namjoon wouldn’t be at the places you planned to go beforehand - especially parties like this one, because hell, Namjoon knows too many people. But you failed this time. You didn’t expect Namjoon to be here at all. It seemed that Mark and Namjoon didn’t have common friends, which was honestly a relief.

You were wrong, obviously.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You feel Mark’s hand on the small of your back as he introduces you to his friends, but your mind isn’t really here as you greet them, and you don’t feel butterflies in your stomach when Mark makes it clear you're his girlfriend. This wasn’t supposed to go this way. You were excited to meet his friends and to be called girlfriend. But all you can feel right now is a chilling cold inside your stomach - not in a good way.

He's literally right there, sitting a few meters away from you.

Shit.

Mark has a happy smile as he leans in, bringing his lips closer to your ear so he can be heard over the loud music: "Do you wanna drink anything, babe?"

No, you want to say. I want to leave. But it's the excited gleam in his eyes that holds you back.

"Yes." Before Mark can walk away on his own to bring you a drink, you grab his hand. "Let's take a drink."

There's no way you're leaving Mark's side with him around.

Not because you're afraid of Namjoon - he might have many flaws, but you never felt unsafe in the slightest around him. No… it's another problem.

You might not be strong enough to face him.

Not at all.

It seems that five months of distance weren't enough. You thought you'd be indifferent to his presence at this point; you thought you got over him. Fuck, you're literally holding your boyfriend's hand. Yet… the moment you noticed Namjoon's in the same room as you, it's like all of your senses went crazy.

You still feel his eyes on you. It's enough to make your cheeks burn. Three years of dating and it never changed - the way a single look of his could put you at ease, how he could make you nervous and giddy and excited. You always loved his look of approval. Namjoon made you feel wanted. That's why you never measured efforts to look as good as possible whenever he was around, even though he always complimented your beauty, with makeup and good clothes or not.

That's not fair.

Mark is talking about something with his friends, but you're not paying attention to anything anymore. The loud music resonates on your stomach and makes you feel nauseous. Fuck. Your night is ruined - and it didn't even begin yet.

You still feel his eyes on you. Shit, you shouldn't. But for the briefest moment, you lift your gaze to look at him again.

Shit shit shit shit.

His black hair is cut short in that way he knows you love. He's wearing the loose black leather jacket you helped him choose, and you realize in shock that your outfits are matching. He's sitting carelessly on the couch in a comfortable position, legs spread, as some guy you don't know is invested in telling him something you can't hear from this distance, but Namjoon is barely paying attention, his eyes focused on you instead. Though you hadn't exchanged a word, his single gaze - the way his eyebrows are softly knitted, his clenched jaw, the way he presses his tongue inside his cheek, how he tilts his head and runs his hand over his mouth for a moment - tell everything you need to know:

He's angry.

He checks your body up and down, and you shiver, even though it's hot inside this crowded house.

You know him too damn well.

This is also his look of I want you.

You gulp and immediately avoid his gaze again in a desperate attempt to pay attention to anything else.

But you know yourself very well, too. You know the way you unconsciously squeeze your thighs on one another, the way your breathing quickens and your heart races.

And you don't know if you're strong enough to resist his gravitational pull.

This is a disaster.

Not only because he is here, which single-handedly was able to bring your mood down. Your legs hurt. No amount of trying to engage in a conversation seems to excite you, your cheeks already hurt from holding that fake smile. The loud music and screaming and chatting only increases your annoyance (and your headache); you can’t even bring yourself to drink anything, having finished only two bottles of beer.

On top of all that - Mark is a lightweight.

You scowl, tapping his back lightly, as Mark throws up sitting on his knees in front of the toilet. The bathroom door is wide open to a crowded corridor; two of Mark’s friends, Chris and Jungwoo, stand in front of the door, watching him and laughing. Maybe if you weren’t in such a bad mood you’d be thinking this is kind of comical too, but right now, you have to control yourself to not roll your eyes.

He coughs and you fixate your eyes on a single tile on the wall (if you look too much at him, you’ll end up vomiting, too). You tap his back a little more strongly. “Put it all out, Mark. You’ll feel better.” You can’t even fake that reassuring tone anymore, sounding straight up annoyed instead.

Mark lifts his head to say something, but ends up coughing and then his face is inside the toilet again, as you just scowl.

“Come on, Mark. You’ll end up getting Y/N dirty.” Chris says in disapproval.

“I would be embarrassed if I were him.” Jungwoo says, tilting his head. “First time he brings his girl over… and look at his state.”

You look at them, forcing a lip-tightened smile. “I don’t mind, guys. He was just having fun… he’s been so stressed because of his finals.”

You do mind, actually.

Because you know Mark’s alcohol tolerance is ridiculously low. You asked him, over and over again, to slow down with his drinks. You weren’t trying to be the boring, controlling girlfriend - as a certain someone used to call you in the past -; you were just worried about him. Besides, babysitting a drunk grown ass man is anything but nice.

Yet - here you are, doing exactly so.

As if this night wasn’t awful already.

“Y-You see? That’s why I like her. She gets me.” Mark stutters, smiling at you. You didn’t think he was even listening.

Yeah, but you don’t get me, the evil side of your brain whispers.

The good side of your brain is quick to scold you: stop that. You said you would change, remember?

Yes. You’re trying to be better. Mark just didn’t pay attention to what he was doing, that’s all. He’s never done anything like this before, he just got a little excited.

It’s like your brain is programmed to want to pick up a fight. But that’s not happening with Mark, not today.

You put some toilet paper on his hand so he can clean his mouth. He’s clearly not even seeing you straight. It looks like he already threw out everything inside his stomach.

“Time to go home, then, hm?” You say.

“What? Go home, at this hour? No way.” Chris says, placing his beer bottle over the sink and walking over to Mark.

You frown. “Can’t you see his state? I’m taking him home so he can sleep.” You try.

“Don’t bother, Y/N. He can sleep in my room for a while, I’m not letting you drive home this late at night.” Chris reaffirms strongly. “Jungwoo, help me pick him up.”

Jungwoo enters the bathroom as well, while you get up on your feet again, doing your best not to scowl at them. “It’s alright, I can drive! I’m totally sober!” You try. You really are sober - it’d need much more than two beer bottles to knock you out.

“No, Mark would kill us if he knew that we let his girlfriend carry him around at night like that. Let us be hospitable, ‘kay?” Jungwoo says, sending a charming smile at you.

The two men help a babbling Mark get to his feet, carrying him out of the bathroom towards Chris’ room at the end of the corridor, and you follow them shortly. Thankfully, the second floor of the house is a little less crowded. Chris’ house is enormous, to be honest. You knew he had some money, but you weren’t expecting this. With some difficulty, they manage to get inside the bedroom and lay Mark on the bed.

“Here, idiot. Get some rest.” Jungwoo says, tapping Mark’s head playfully. He whines in protest. “Shit, he’s gonna be so embarrassed tomorrow…”

“You staying with him, Y/N?” Chris asks, already standing at the door.

You look at the pathetic - and cute - image of your boyfriend laid on the bed like that.

“Yeah.” You nod. “For a bit.”

“Meet us downstairs later, then.” Jungwoo says, leaving the bedroom too. “Don’t waste your night babysitting this fucker.”

If you didn’t know how close they are, you’d think he’s being rude, but both of them look at the younger and drunk male with affection. You nod, reassuring that you’ll definitely go downstairs, and they finally close the door, leaving you both alone.

You cross your arms.

Sure, they were trying to be “hospitable” - and yes, it was a nice gesture of them -, but fuck, they just destroyed your only chance of getting out of here.

You’re angrier now.

“Y/N…” Mark calls in a whiny voice that makes you roll your eyes.

You sit by his side on the bed. His eyes are barely even opened. “What?”

He somehow manages to open them, and a silly drunken smile appears on his lips. “You’re soooo pretty. The prettiest girl… I’ve ever seen. D-Did you know that?”

You can’t help but chuckle. It’s hard to get angry at Mark; you feel that he can get away with anything - a cute smile of his is enough to melt your heart in a second. You’ve been dating for a little over a month now, and it’s been a great month, to be honest. It’s been a while since someone made you feel butterflies in your stomach like that, made you smile just thinking of them. It’s like when you started dating Nam-

Shit.

You shake your head frantically, as if doing so will make the intrusive thoughts fly away. It’s ridiculous that you unconsciously end up comparing Mark to that certain someone. You’ve been trying your best not to. Mark is different - his personality is pretty much the opposite of that other person; he’s bubbly, funny, he makes you genuinely enjoy your time with him. It’s the first time you date someone a little bit younger than you, and you didn’t think it’d be this good. All your friends told you the same: you make a great couple. You look so happy with him. I’m so happy for you.

You like Mark.

You really do.

So why does your mind keep gravitating over Namjoon from time to time? Why does it keep comparing them?

You dated him for three years, you try to rationalize. It was a messy and long relationship. It’s just natural that you’d make comparisons now that you’re with a different person.

Yes. That must be it.

You pass your hands through Mark’s blonde hair and he smiles happily, closing his eyes. There’s blush all over his face. “You should really rest now.” You say quietly.

It seems that Mark is trying to say something - but his voice dies mid-snore.

A chuckle escapes through your lips again. He also falls asleep very fast.

You still stare at his sleeping form for a while.

Fuck.

You need to smoke.

You sigh heavily before getting up, careful to not make any noise as you walk out of the bedroom and close the door quietly. You’re immediately overwhelmed by the loud music coming from downstairs. You try to keep a fast pace as you walk out of the house, avoiding the people you know and rapidly greeting the ones you can’t avoid. When you finally manage to get out, you’re annoyed all over again. The cold nightly breeze makes you tighten the jacket around your body and regret coming with this short dress - it’s like your legs are about to freeze. Small steam clouds form in front of your face at each breath.

You angrily march towards your car, parked at least four houses down the street (both sides are fully parked with Chris’ guests’ cars, this was the closest spot you could find). The music and screaming becomes distant, which is honestly a relief. You open the door rather roughly, reaching for the glove box, to get the pack of cigarettes you keep “hidden” there. Hidden from yourself, more specifically. You’ve been promising to stop smoking for a few years now - and in an attempt to stop, you purposefully “hide” the packs in places that will be inconvenient for you (it was very inconvenient to have to walk out of the house just to smoke, when you could’ve kept in your purse). Of course, you should stop buying cigarettes for all, but… well, maybe later.

You take one cigarette from the pack and put it between your lips, impatiently groping for the lighter. But… it’s not in the glove box. You get up again, putting your purse over the car’s roof, searching for its contents. Lip gloss… your wallet… phone… you groan.

“Where the fuck is it?!” You stomp angrily as if it’ll be of any use.

Then, you catch something with the corner of your eye - and you immediately freeze.

Someone handing their lighter to you.

You look to your left side, finally realizing there was someone standing there all this time.

And it’s infuriating that your heart nearly stops.

Namjoon.

He’s not looking at you, eyes glued on his shoes instead, as he places a cigarette on his own lips with the other hand. You hate that your eyes are widened at the sight of him so close after five months. You hate that your first immediate thought is he looks so good, he’s dressed the way you like, as if he knew you’d be here. You hate that your heart is already racing at the mere proximity.

You take so long to move that Namjoon finally looks at you, quirking one eyebrow up. “Are you taking it or not?”

Shit. His voice. You missed it so bad.

“What are you doing here?” You also can’t help the defensive tone. Whenever he’s around, you immediately square up. Always ready to pick up a fight. “Are you following me?”

Namjoon chuckles in a mocking tone, shaking his head. “Following you? That’s literally my car. I’m not following anyone.”

You blink, stretching your neck to see better. It really is his car, parked in front of yours. How didn’t you notice when you arrived?

You gulp, avoiding his gaze for a moment.

Namjoon clicks his tongue, calling your attention. His arm is still extended, lighter in hand.

You shouldn’t. Don’t do it. Deny it.

Hesitantly, you take it from his hand. Your cold fingers brush against his warm ones. You shiver.

Fuck!

You light up your cigarette, inhaling it deeply, before putting it back in his hand. Namjoon also lights his up and exhales smoke from his nose.

Silence.

You can almost see the tension in the air around you.

“Thought you were trying to stop smoking.” He says quietly after a while. Both of his hands in the pockets of the jacket, he still looks down with his eyebrows knitted in a serious - slightly annoyed - expression. You hate yourself for admiring his side profile like that. You shouldn’t even be breathing the same air as him, let alone admire him.

“I am.” Your voice is also quiet. Namjoon chuckles.

More silence.

There’s some yelling at Chris’ house. Both of you look in that direction at the same time. It doesn’t sound like a fight, so your eyes focus on the car roof again. You hold the cigarette between your pointer and middle finger, exhaling smoke.

“I didn’t know you’re Chris’ friend.” You say. Why are you even trying to make small talk?

“He’s not exactly a friend. We had some classes together during college.” He explains. Oh. Right.

Silence.

You hug yourself again as another freezing breeze crosses your body. This is so incredibly awkward. It’s even hard to believe you know this man intimately, that you were in a relationship for three whole years. Right now, he just feels… foreign. It was never this way. Never.

Namjoon sighs and inhales the last bit of his cigarette, before throwing it on the floor and stomping on it. “I… saw you with your boyfriend-”

“Stop.” You say abruptly, lifting your palm towards him before he can finish the sentence. “Just stop. We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” But he’s lifting his eyebrow again, and you know he’s getting sarcastic in the way you hate the most. “I was just going to say how happy you looked… babysitting him, I mean.”

You angrily throw the cigarette on the floor, stomping on it, and glare at him, feeling all of your nerves heating up with the familiar anger only Namjoon is able to ignite. “Fuck off, Namjoon."

“What? Am I lying?” He shrugs, the shadow of a mocking smirk on his lips. “Where is he right now? Passed out in some corner of the house?”

Anger immediately bubbles up within you, heating your cold body in a second. You roll your eyes, exhaling heavily, as you take the purse from over the roof again. “Don’t even know why I’m wasting my time with you anyways…”

You’re about to walk away from him - but Namjoon acts quicker.

He places his arm on the car roof, blocking your way; you feel his body close to you. Close enough for you to feel waves of heat emanating from his body, but still not touching you. Dangerously close.

You freeze in place.

You look up at him, surprised at his sudden movement… only to be met by the hooded gaze you’re very familiar with. The gaze that makes immediate goosebumps roam your skin.

He lowers his head a little bit to speak closer to your ear. Adrenaline starts to make your heart race. You remember how you always loved how tall he is, how he towers over you, how he had to lower his head to kiss you, or you’d have to tiptoe to reach his lips, how easily he could lift you up in his arms.

You remember and you gulp.

“You’re wrong, Y/N.” His voice is quiet and deep and shit he’s talking like that, he’s talking with that voice that means I want you right here and right now, and heat spreads through your body with that alone. “I never made you waste your time. I wouldn’t leave you alone… not when you look like this.”

He licks his lips slowly, looking you up and down. You can’t move. Your breath hitches.

You should’ve flinched or pushed him away when he leans his face closer to your neck, but you can’t. Not because you’re scared. Because a part of you is so used to this - the proximity, the heat - that you cannot react at all.

Namjoon closes his eyes for a moment and smirks.

“You’re using it. The perfume I gave you.” You widen your eyes, unconsciously putting your hand in the back of your neck, as you feel your cheeks burn. “So… you didn’t really forget me.”

You frown, once again getting defensive. “It’s just a perfume. It means nothing.”

Namjoon tilts his head. “It scares me how similar we are.”

“What?” But you shouldn’t have asked what, because you know Namjoon - and if you give him a single cue, he’ll use it. You should’ve cut the conversation short, but you didn’t.

“You’ve been lying to yourself all this time, too.”

Your jaw drops. You stare back at him, feeling anger bubbling in your chest again. “You think you know me so well, right, Namjoon? If you knew me so well, we’d still be together.”

“No. We’re not together because we know each other too well.” You hate this. You hate how right he is. Namjoon has always been extremely smart about everything, quick to analyze any situation he’s in. And yes, you used to hate how he would analyze your feelings as if you’re a thing, not a person.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “What do you want with this, huh, Namjoon? Are you trying to get into another argument?”

And then he’s smirking again - the sight of his dimples appearing making you feel weak.

“I kind of am. You know I like when you’re angry at me.”

You avoid his gaze, feeling that heat spread from your cheeks to your neck, but Namjoon tilts his head to the side, trying to keep eye contact with you. “Namjoon, let me go.”

“I’m not holding you, baby. Not even touching you.”

Baby.

Your legs feel even weaker at the familiar pet name. It’s been so long since you heard this…

Shit shit shit shit shit.

“You can walk away if you want… but you don’t want to, right?” He chuckles darkly.

“Namjoon, for fuck’s sake…” You put your hand over his muscular chest, pushing him away slightly, as you look around with worry. “Mark’s friends are literally right there. What if someone sees us?”

“Oh. So you’re worried about getting caught, not that your boyfriend is passed out somewhere, not having a clue that you’re here with me… interesting.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth!” You tighten your fists. “What do you want, huh, Namjoon? Is this how you try to make up with me?”

Namjoon eyes you seriously, jaw clenched - and again, you feel that you can’t breathe.

“I don’t want to make up with you.” His quiet, gravely voice echoes within your stomach. “I want to fuck you.”

You shiver.

Even after five months, your body never forgot him. How shameless and obscene he is with his words. How easy it is for him to get you worked up. It’s like his deep sultry voice is already stripping you down, even if he didn’t even touch you.

"T-That's not happening." But your voice doesn't sound as firm as you wanted it to sound, and your heart is beating fast, certainly not because you're angry… and you already feel the very familiar heat between your legs despite the chilly night.

Namjoon clenches his jaw and lowers his head again, his face dangerously close to your ear.

"I miss you so bad, baby." Your fists unconsciously tighten. Your chest heavens as your breathing gets deeper. His voice is serious and deep and quiet and pleading. You press your thighs on one another. "Shit… look at you. Every guy's been checking you out all night… but you're with the one that cares the least about you."

"Shut up." You finally look back at him, anger making you frown. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" He quirks one eyebrow up. "I don't know? Baby, I wouldn't waste my time getting drunk. You know that, right? If you were with me… shit…" he chuckles darkly. "Everyone in that goddamn party would be listening to you screaming my name right now."

"Namjoon..." You try to say in a warning tone, but your body doesn't agree with your brain; the warmth spreading from your face to your neck to your intimacy, the fast beating of your heart, the way your lips are slightly parted, how your body is literally melting.

"Those pretty lips of yours around my cock…" He closes his eyes for a moment, slowly getting closer to you - and you can't move away. "You always take me so well, baby…"

"Namjoon." You try again, but it seems that he's is having a lot of fun with your reactions. He licks his lips and smirks.

"Tell me, Y/N… is this… Mark… treating you well?" Your body freezes and melts at the same time when his large hand rests on your waist. "Is he fucking you good the way you like? The way you deserve?" Holy shit - you can barely breathe. "Does he put you on your fours the way you like it? Can he fuck you all night the way I do?"

He's leaning closer, eyes glued to your lips.

Your own gaze drops to his lips, too.

Then, you remember that you're on the sidewalk, four houses down the street from where your boyfriend and his friends are - and it snaps you back to reality.

You step away from him, yanking his hand off your waist. "Fuck off!"

You press the purse close to your body and walk away with firm and quick steps without looking back.

Your heartbeat thunders inside your ribcage, your mouth is dry; even your fingers shake slightly, the chilly breeze does little to refresh your high inner temperature. You shouldn't have talked to him. You should've walked away from him straight away. Why did you let his sultry voice get to your ears and down to your already throbbing core? You were absolutely right; you're not strong enough to face him, not at all.

Because you also miss him badly.

You miss his grip on you and his tongue on you and you miss his taste in your mouth, you miss feeling him deep inside your throat and then deep inside your cunt, stretching you and filling you up like no one else can - not even Mark.

You miss him so bad that your legs are already wobbly, even though he just touched your waist. You miss him so bad that it's hard to fake the crazed look in your eyes and to hold a smile when you get back inside the house, once again trying your best to pass imperceptible by everyone, trying not to engage in any conversation. The loud music and yelling bothers your ears, having to squeeze yourself between bodies and more bodies annoys you. It doesn't help that you don't know almost anyone in this house, mostly your fault, because your bad mood didn't let you socialize the way you usually would.

You just march to the second floor, towards the room Mark is sleeping in. You have to anchor your senses again; being anywhere near him will make you go insane. You need to remind yourself that this is the party your current boyfriend brought you to, the boyfriend you like very much, the guy that treats you well and is obviously in love with you. Namjoon is your past, Mark is your present. You can't hurt his feelings like that.

You can't.

But your body can't lie, either.

Because when you're about to hold the doorknob to Mark's room, you feel a familiar grip on your elbow. You do not fight this grip as it quickly pulls you inside the next guest room, and you do not flinch as the door is swiftly closed shut and your body is pressed against it, and you are not surprised when the light is turned on and you face Namjoon.

You do not push him away when his lips clash on yours.

The kiss tastes like tobacco; your senses are overwhelmed by his perfume, the one he knows you love. Namjoon doesn't try to be gentle or slow because he knows you don't like it. His tongue entangles in yours, one hand grips the hair at the back of your head while the other squeezes your ass, making you moan within the kiss. You grip his hair as well, the other arm going around his shoulders, as you tiptoe, kissing him back eagerly.

You're panting and your chest heavens as you finally break the kiss for a moment. Your mind is clouded by his perfume and his hands and his mouth, now leaving wet kisses on your neck, sucking on it softly and making you whimper.

"N-Namjoon…" you try to call his attention, but it's too late; your voice is breathy and whiny in the way that makes him go insane. "We shouldn't…"

It's ridiculous that you're saying this as his hands are on you and his mouth is on you and every inch of your body is screaming for him. This is wrong - this is nasty, ugly, unacceptable. Your boyfriend is sleeping in the room next to this. His friends are downstairs. Yes, you are well aware of all that.

And still - you don't push him away. You don't want him to stop.

"Yes, we shouldn't." His voice is also breathy. He kisses your lips eagerly again. "But you want this, Y/N. And I want it, too. Fuck, I need you, baby…" He presses his body against you strongly, and you feel his clothed erection against your stomach; it's enough to make your mouth water. He passes his tongue on your bottom slip slowly, before kissing you again; your legs are already weakened by this action. "Need you around me… I know you want this, too, baby… let me fuck you good, just this last time…"

Your breath comes out shaky when his hand lifts your tight dress up to your hips to squeeze your ass. As one arm circles around your waist, the other hand that was on your ass shamelessly travels to rest over your panties, his palm pressing on your warm pussy. He caresses your intimacy, making you moan quietly and unconsciously buck your hips with the movement of his hand. Namjoon smirks and hums, hypnotized by the way you bite your bottom lip, these begging eyes he knows so well.

"You're always so ready for me, baby… look at how wet you already are..." he chuckles darkly, sending shivers down your spine. He presses his palm more firmly on your clit, making you let out a slightly louder moan, closing your eyes for a moment. He pushes your jacket away with his other hand, letting a trail of kisses on your shoulder. "But I can stop if you want to…"

"No." You blurt out in a pleading voice, once again making him smirk. "Don't you dare stop."

Yes - you are very well aware of how wrong this is.

You are very well aware that guilt will crush you later.

But right now, you decide to shut everything else but him. All of your problems and guilts and regrets stand out of this room, waiting to greet you as soon as you walk out. They're distant and muffled, just like the loud music downstairs, asleep just like your drunk boyfriend, barely a wall away from you.

You decide to ignore all of that.

What exists right now is Namjoon and your insatiable lust.

Your hand searches for the key and you turn it, locking the door.

"Why you gotta do this to me, Namjoon?" You whine in a pleading voice, before holding his face with both hands and forcing him to kiss you - which he reciprocates eagerly. "Why… why you gotta make my life so difficult?"

He bites your bottom lip and chuckles. "I already said… I love it when you're mad at me." His palm keeps pressing on your intimacy, making circular movements over your clit, and you purr in delight, throwing your head back. "And you love it too, don't you, baby? I know you too well… You’re so nasty for me.”

“Shit…” You curse under your breath, feeling your inner temperature increase each second. You grab the fabric of the jacket on his shoulders and start to buck your hips on his hand more frantically. “Shit, I need you inside of me…”

Namjoon growls on your ear and presses your body against the door with his own, forcing you to stop bucking your hips. “Not so soon, baby. This won’t be quick. It’s been five months… I’m gonna take my time with you.” He kisses you, and when he leans away, there’s the smirk again. “I will make you come good, baby… but first, let me fuck this pretty mouth of yours, will you?”

Excitement bubbles up within you, and you bite your bottom lip, nodding. The things Namjoon makes you do… it’s like you become a different person around him when you two have sex.

He takes his hand off your pussy and you immediately miss his touch, but you know it’ll be worth it later. “Take this shit off, I want to see you.” He growls, grabbing the collar of your jacket and rather aggressively making you take it off, throwing it on the floor with your purse. That smirk of approval… it’s enough to make you press your thighs together again. “Fuck, how can that guy not want to fuck your brains out when you look so delicious in this dress?”

You feel a glimpse of discomfort at Namjoon’s words - you don’t want to be reminded of Mark, of how ugly your actions are, or you’ll want to stop. But he doesn’t give you time to think too much about it, because his hand rests at the top of your head and he looks into your eyes darkly.

“On your knees.”

You smirk, obeying him without complaints. You keep intense eye contact as Namjoon works on his belt, finally freeing his hardened member from his boxers - and your mouth immediately waters. He’s so big. Your pussy throbs in anticipation, at the mere thought that soon, his thick and veiny cock will be slamming inside of you after five months.

“Let me see if you still remember how to do it.” He says in a challenging tone, cocking one eyebrow up and smirking, and you have to gulp at the sight of him grabbing his own cock, pumping it up and down slowly.

"Of course I do." You say, batting your lashes prettily at him. "I'm the only one that can take you."

Namjoon chuckles, but his chuckle dies in a hiss when you hold his shaft with one hand and lick the tip like a kitty, never breaking eye contact. He lets a deep grunt when your lips wrap around the tip, sucking it gently like it is the sweetest lollipop. He closes his eyes momentarily and tilts his head to the side, face contorting in pleasure.

"You're so hot, baby…" you would've smirked if you didn't have the tip of his dick in your mouth - and the sight makes Namjoon desperate to have more of you. He grabs the hair at the top of your head and yanks you off his cock, and yes, it's painful - but you're used to it. You've been missing it. "Open your mouth."

Once again, you obey him. Namjoon shoves his dick into your open mouth all the way down your throat; you choke, sinking your nails on the flesh of your thighs. You sucked him off more times than you can count, but you never quite got used to how truly big he is. Namjoon pushes inside as much as possible making you tighten your eyes and gag. It's uncomfortable. But it's alright. You can take him.

Namjoon lets out a deep moan and bites his bottom lip. "You look so pretty with my cock inside your mouth…" his deep voice travels all the way to your wet core, and you tighten your cunt around nothing. His strong grip on your hair keeps your head in place as he starts to thrust in and out. You grunt around his dick, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure all throughout Namjoon's body. He pants with his mouth open, licking his lips, hissing and letting deep moans that resonate in you. "You missed it too, right, Y/N? You look so hungry right now, taking me like the big girl you are…"

Again, he sees the hint of a smirk on your lips and the mischief in your eyes, and he knows you would've said something if you could.

You tighten your lips around his dick, sucking as he thrusts deep down your throat, making him throw his head back in pleasure. You have tears in the corners of your eyes, but his face contorted in delight is worth it. He digs his nails in your scalp, pushing your head into his dick as he thrusts; he's being rougher than usual, it's getting difficult to breathe.

As if he's some sort of telepath, Namjoon takes his dick off your mouth and you gasp for air; a streak of saliva connects your lips to the tip. The sight of your hooded eyes, parted and swollen lips glinting with saliva is so absurdly sensual that Namjoon has to take a deep breath, controlling himself not to blow his load already.

"It seems that you really forgot how to do it, huh?" He says with mischief. "What? Your boyfriend's cock can't reach that deep inside your throat?"

You click your tongue, feeling a spark of anger within you when Namjoon cites Mark again. "Fuck you."

He chuckles, very much pleased to see how easy it is to irk you up - but again, his voice stumbles into a grunt when you wrap your lips around his tip without warning, sucking it eagerly. You grab his shaft with one hand and it glides easily across it, thanks to your saliva. Though the music from outside is still loud, your ears are only filled with the wet noise your hand gliding on him produces, sucking noises, and Namjoon's grunts and hisses of pleasure.

A streak of curses leaves his mouth as you start to take more and more of him relentlessly. Once again, he grips your scalp strongly, shoving your head into his dick as he thrusts. You gag and whimper, and it only increases Namjoon’s arousal. You can already see the glint of sweat on his forehead and neck.

"Shit, Y/N, shit-" he grunts, once again throwing his head back. He then locks his gaze with yours, watching as you swallow him eagerly. "Fuck, I want to cum all over your face. Ruin your makeup and hair… so when you walk back to Mark, he's gonna know what we did here."

Stop talking about him!, you want to yell. I don't want to remember he's in the next room!

The feral glare you send him, the sight of his dick in all its length inside your mouth, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead, the drool on the corner of your lips - it’s almost too much for him. “Stop, baby, stop.” Namjoon clicks his tongue, yanking your head away from his cock.

You groan and gulp, never once breaking eye contact. You lick your lips slowly and smirk mischievously as you clean the corner of your mouth with your thumb. “What? Am I too much for you to handle?”

“Get up.” He orders impatiently, and you do so in an instant. His lips clash on yours again in a sloppy, heated kiss, his hand grabbing the hair at the back of your head tightly. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

You smile as excitement bubbles at the pit of your stomach. Contrary to what you thought he would do - carry you to the bed, he places his hands on your waist and spins you around, so now your back is facing him. You grunt as he roughly presses you against the door, keeping you trapped between it and his muscular body.

Looking over your shoulder, you watch as he takes his jacket off and throws it on the floor, eyes glued to your ass. Purring, you arch your back to him, as both palms rest on the door for support. In a swift movement, he grabs the hem of your panty and slides it down your legs.

“Ah… so pretty. So pretty, baby…” He compliments darkly, caressing your ass and squeezing it. You gasp when, unexpectedly, he lands a hard slap on one of the cheeks. It burns, and you close your eyes tightly on instinct. Namjoon chuckles and licks his lips. He presses his body against yours, and you feel his cock against your ass.

“How much do you want me, hm, Y/N?” He asks in a low voice with his lips on your ear. He kisses the bit of skin where your jaw meets your neck and licks it. Your pussy throbs and tightens around nothing as you feel him bucking his hips on you, caressing your ass with his cock, moaning with the back of his throat. The sound makes you purr and bite your bottom lip.

“Namjoon, stop teasing me,” you whine, making him chuckle once again. “Just fuck me already.”

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” He kisses your shoulder tenderly. “Is that what you want?”

You forget what you were going to say as you feel his hand traveling to your front, between your legs, to touch your clit in slow, circular movements, at the same time the other hand grabs your breast over the dress, squeezing it with care. “You… hmm… you said… you were going to fuck me.”

“Yes, but I don’t think you’re needy enough.” He keeps humping his hardened dick on your ass, all the while his hand moves on your clit way slower than you’d like. “You’re not too proud to beg, are you, Y/N?”

You look at him angrily from over your shoulder, but when he adds a little more pressure on your clit, your complaint is choked in a moan that escapes from your lips. You tighten your fists, closing your eyes tightly, as the circular movement gets faster, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You bite your bottom lip, purposefully pressing your ass against his member, making him groan quietly.

“I haven't even started yet, but look at how loud you are.” Namjoon chuckles and bites your earlobe lightly.

“Namjoon,” you meow his name in such a way that has him closing his eyes for a moment. “N-Need you inside of me.”

“Hmm?” He presses your clit even harder, making you moan and throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder. Namjoon’s evil smirk widens. “Didn’t hear you, babe.”

“Please. Please. I’ve been missing it so much.” You cry, having no idea of how hard you’re stroking his ego with those words. Yes, he was right - you’re not too proud to beg when it comes to sex. Namjoon hums in approval, leaving a surprisingly tender kiss on your cheek.

“I’ll give you what you want, baby… you deserve it. You always do.”

Your whole body shakes in anticipation when he takes his hand off your clit. Namjoon spits on his hand, and you moan lightly as you feel him pressing it on your folds, mixing it with your juices. “You got a condom?” He asks. You shake your head frantically.

“Don’t. I want to feel you.” He tilts his head and quirks one eyebrow up, not even bothered by your request. You’re always on the pill anyway. Yes, maybe you’re being reckless, but you really want to feel him as he is.

“As you wish.”

You shiver as he holds your hips firmly with both hands, and you open your palms on the door again for support. Your pussy is already throbbing when you feel him position his dick on your entrance.

You cry out in pleasure when he finally penetrates you.

The stretch feels so amazing that your legs almost lose all of their strength. You close your eyes tightly, eyebrows knitted, mouth opened.

He grunts with the back of his throat in a way that makes you even weaker. “All the way, baby?”

You nod frantically, opening your eyes for a moment to see him over your shoulder. “Yes. Yes. Please.”

He chuckles and licks his lips, eyes focused on the sight of his cock halfway inside of you. “You’re so desperate tonight.”

He does exactly what you asked.

It’s like the air is knocked out of your lungs. You’re unable to muffle the moan that escapes from your lips when he puts everything inside, balls deep in. You clench around him, making Namjoon moan as well and throw his head back; the sight of his parted lips, closed eyes and Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows mesmerizes you. It doesn’t matter how many times you fucked - it was never not amazing. Every nerve in your body yells in pure pleasure. Words can't describe how much you've been missing him inside of you; your body never forgot, always tight for him, always ready to accommodate him.

"Fuck- you feel amazing…" he says in a breathy voice that makes you melt. "You were right, baby… no one can take me like you can." He thrusts for the first time, making you squeak and bite your bottom lip at the delicious friction the girth of his member produces against your velvet walls. He thrusts again and again, grunting at each movement, making you see stars. You hear his low chuckle which makes more goosebumps roam your skin. "L-Look at you right now… I didn't even begin yet, Y/N. Are you going to cum already?" He chuckles again. "Guess I was right… your boyfriend hasn't been treating you that well, since you're so desperate for me…"

"Shut up." You eye him again over your shoulder, trying your best to look annoyed, but it's hard to do so when his dick is this deep inside of you. "Stop talking… just fuck me."

You see a glimpse of annoyance in his eyes as, out of sudden, he growls and picks a much faster and stronger pace; you whimper in surprise when he presses his forearm against the back of your neck, sticking your cheek against the door, keeping your back incredibly arched. You pant with your mouth opened, obscene moans unconsciously escaping, each thrust of his sending shockwaves of pleasure to every piece of your body, making the tiny hairs of your arms rise. Fuck, you've always loved when he went rough you on; sometimes, you'd even purposefully argue with him over the stupidest things, just because you knew that making up with him meant he would let his emotions loose with angry sex. You loved to be bitten and slapped and choked by him - even if you'd be sore the next morning, it was always worth it.

"You know," he growls in a deep and breathy voice without slowing his pace even once. "It's funny how you get angry and want to defend him while I'm dicking you down. Such a protective girlfriend."

"N-Namjoon-" you try to speak, but your voice dies in a strangled moan. Namjoon smirks. Your ears are filled with both your breathy voices of pleasure, his pelvis smacking against your ass, the squelching noises his dick coming in and out of you produces, and- and-

Your ear is pressed against the door. You can hear the voices out there in the hallway beyond the loud music.

"If you moan a little louder, they will hear you, too." Namjoon says as if he just read your mind. "Is that what you want, Y/N?" You bite your bottom lip, trying to shut your voice, but it's almost painful to keep quiet when he's fucking you so hard. "N-Not that I would mind… you have such a pretty voice, baby… I love it when you cry for me…"

You roll your eyes in pleasure, feeling your sanity running thin. Your moans sound more like painful strangled whimpers now as you desperately try to not make much noise, which only increases Namjoon’s arousal. There’s just something about you - the way you so shamelessly display your pleasure - that simply doesn’t compare to anything he had experienced with anyone else. He loves to make you feel good. He loves your face contorted in pleasure, when you’re desperate and begging for release.

“Fuck-” you say in a tired and tiny voice that almost causes the same effect on him as the feeling of your cunt tightening around his member. “Fuck- you’re s-so big-”

Namjoon smirks again. He always knows when you’re close. He could tease you a bit and deny your orgasm, but he’s been missing you so much and your moans sound so good that he can’t bring himself to be so cruel. “Are you going to cum for me, baby?” You nod frantically again, eyes closed, lips parted.

“Yes… p-please, don’t stop… f-feel so good…” you don’t have any control of the words coming out of your mouth anymore, your mind way too drowned in pleasure to think straight.

His forearm leaves the back of your neck and he holds your hips tightly again, keeping the exact same pace you need to reach your high. You tighten your fists again, feeling your legs lose strength and every nerve in your body going haywire the closest you get to your orgasm. The slick arousal drips from your inner thighs, sweat covers your forehead, neck and chest; you hear the voices of the people talking literally on the other side of the door, the loud music, Namjoon grunting, you feel the fire building up and spreading through you, you feel his cock coming in and out of you, reaching deep, the glorious friction it produces every time-

Namjoon stops moving and keeps his member buried in you as you orgasm, throwing your head back, your convulsing body, your eyes turned in pleasure. You’re barely even breathing. He holds your hips tightly, taking a moment to catch his breath. The way you’re so tightly clenched around him makes him close his eyes and sigh in pleasure.

He waits until you calm down a bit.

He’s not done with you yet.

You’re taken by surprise when you feel him pulling his dick out and suddenly wrapping his arms around your waist. Namjoon sticks his chest to your back and lifts you up, easily walking towards the bed. He practically throws you over it and you bounce on the soft mattress, causing you to giggle tiredly. It makes him smile, too - but at the same time, it’s like an arrow has trespassed his heart, because if you giggle and look happy like that, it makes him remember when you were together and everything was okay.

Namjoon stands at the edge of the bed. His dick is still standing tall, glistering with your juices.

“Suck it.” He orders. The way you smirk and crawl on your fours towards him with eyes glued on his member makes him feel goosebumps. You don’t complain - your hand simply holds his shaft again and then your lips are wrapped around it. Namjoon hisses and throws his head back. You don’t waste any time, taking more of him inside your mouth, bobbing your head across his length, sucking him eagerly. The taste of your own arousal doesn’t bother you.

Namjoon rests his hand on the top of your head, gently massaging your scalp instead of gripping it, which makes you somehow smile. “I-I missed this every fucking day… you have no idea…”

You take his cock out of your mouth for a moment, just to look up at him and smirk. “I think I do.” You lick the tip again, making him hiss and close his eyes momentarily. Namjoon watches, completely mesmerized, as you keep sucking him. He thinks you’re so absurdly pretty, it’s almost unreal.

Namjoon grunts at some point and the fingers that were caressing your hair now are gripping it, once again yanking you away from his cock. You look up at him with round, confused eyes. “What? I thought you wanted to come in my mouth.” He smiles and shakes his head. How can you fake that innocent voice so well?

He holds your forearm and makes you get on your knees; delicately puts some loose strands of hair behind your ear before kissing you. As your lips move, you feel his hand search for the zipper on your back. He zips the dress down and leans away so you can lift your arms for him to fully take the dress off.

Namjoon smiles at the sight of your breasts covered in the black lace bra. He always loved when you wore lace lingerie - especially black; once again, it’s like both of you knew you’d be here, and purposefully chose your outfits based on each other’s tastes. He kisses you again, massaging both of your breasts at the same time, earning soft moans from you.

He leans away. His hooded eyes make you shiver. “I’m not done with you yet.” He says quietly.

His hand rests on your chest and he pushes you delicately, making you sit. You keep propped up on your elbows, watching as he parts your legs. Namjoon licks his lips and smiles. “You’re dripping, baby.”

You hiss, toes curling, as he massages your clit again. Your nerves are still so sensitive from the previous orgasm, but at the same time, this pain feels good - so you just grip the sheets and bite your bottom lip, not wanting him to stop. His hand gets wet immediately - you are dripping indeed - and you gasp when suddenly, Namjoon inserts his ring and middle finger inside of you. Your walls immediately clench around them, having not recovered fully yet. Namjoon knows it. That’s why he moves his fingers inside of you slowly.

You throw your head back, gulping. “P-Put it in.” You stutter.

Namjoon nods, feeling all of his body shudder in anticipation. He takes his fingers out of you and holds your hips yet again. Instead of easing himself in at once, he glides his cock on your folds, humping slowly, causing both of you to moan. Finally, he puts it all in; you’re so wet that he simply slides in, making both of you moan at the same time.

It’s like your entire body is burning in flames as Namjoon starts to thrust, although slower this time. You analyze his features - face covered in sweat, jaw clenched tightly, an expression that almost looks like pain - and you wonder how much longer he can take. You want him to come, too; you can imagine how desperate he must be to get his release. Even so, he doesn’t go that hard from the beginning, aware of your sensitivity.

“Joon,” you call in that sensual voice that ignites every nerve in his body. You didn’t even realize that you just called him by the nickname. “I want you to cum for me, too.”

He looks at you without stopping his movements. “However I want, baby?”

You nod. “However you want.”

Namjoon tilts his head and pulls out suddenly. “On your fours.”

You smile, immediately doing as he asked; you turn around on fours, arch your back for him, ass up, your chest touches the mattress. You look over your shoulder and see Namjoon kneeling on the bed, eyes glued on your dripping entrance, so stretched and so exposed for him. He licks his lips and squeezes your ass before slapping it, sending jolts of pain down your legs. “You’re being such a good girl to me, Y/N… doing everything I ask.” He grips your hips and pulls in balls deep, making you whimper and bite your bottom lip. From the start, he picks a faster pace than before, completely focused on getting his release. Your whole body shakes and you grip the sheets tightly, trying your best to muffle your moans on the mattress, but it’s pretty impossible; you can just thank that the music out there is loud enough to disguise the obscene sounds coming from this bedroom.

Which makes you remember, for a single second, the image of a sleeping Mark next door.

But Namjoon’s cock inside of you overwhelms any guilt to take you over.

He groans and slaps your ass hard again, earning a gasp and a loud moan you can’t hold back. “Who else can fuck you like this, huh, Y/N?” He growls. “Who else can fill you up like this?”

“No one!” Shit - you might regret the things stumbling from your mouth later, but right now, your mind is so clouded by pleasure that you can’t stop to think of the things you’re saying. “O-Only you… you fuck me so good, Joon-” you squeak in pain when he slaps your ass again. “Don’t fucking stop!”

He’s so deep inside of you; with this position, he can easily hit your sweet spot - and he keeps hitting it mercilessly. You hear him chuckling mischievously. “You’re about to cum again, baby?”

You don’t answer this time, unable to form any coherent word anymore, just vulgar sounds coming from you instead. Bliss shadows your thoughts and senses, you can’t care about anything but his strong grip on your hips and his thick cock hitting deep inside of you over and over and over again, restless, ruthless, in that way only him can do, only him knows how you like. Your walls are so clenched that Namjoon feels about to explode. Yet, he doesn’t stop thrusting while you orgasm, convulsing around him, trembling and weak; it’s like your vision fades for a moment, all you can see is white. He doesn’t stop, he doesn’t slow his pace.

You’re forced to open your eyes and gasp when you feel his fingers brushing your clit.

“Namjoon, I- I already came-” you try to speak, but electricity runs through your system as his quick motions over your clit makes you wail.

“Come with me, baby,” he says mischievously, panting. “I know you can take it.”

Your eyes widen, you grab the sheets even harder as fingers work on your clit nonstop, all the while his cock keeps smacking inside of you again and again and again. You gasp for air, desperate and overcharged; you want to flinch away from his restless touch on your clit, but at the same time, the overstimulation feels so painful and so sweet that you can’t ask him to stop; you haven’t calmed down from your orgasm and you feel your pleasure levels increasing at a fast pace again.

A streak of curses leaves Namjoon’s mouth; you’re so incredibly tight and hot, it’s like he’s going insane. You squirm and cry out when the third orgasm in a row hits; tears form in the corner of your eyes, your body yells desperately after so much stimulation in such a short period. Your knees barely have any strength to them, you don’t how much longer you can keep your ass up. Yet, almost at the same time, Namjoon feels his own high hitting. He takes his hand off your clit and pulls out of you, holding his cock as he cums all over your ass and back, pumping it until he’s milked dry.

He flops by your side on the bed, staring at the ceiling with tired eyes.

You can barely even open your eyes. Your whole body is trembling and sweating. You’re so tired that you could honestly just sleep right here, in this position.

But you can’t.

Because, as you recover your breathing, as your heartbeat falls at a normal pace again, as arousal slowly fades from your mind and your body gets cold, you’re slowly reminded of the situation you put yourself in.

And it immediately starts to weigh.

You open your eyes to focus on Namjoon.

He’s still staring at the ceiling, covered in sweat, his t-shirt glued to his body. He licks his lips and gulps in a serious, thoughtful expression.

That’s not how it used to be.

Five months ago, after he fucked you hard like this, Namjoon would hug you tight. You’d smile at each other, you’d giggle at something silly one of you would say. You’d both walk to the bathroom to take a good shower. You’d wear one of his shirts, he’d blow your hair with the hairdryer, and you’d go to sleep in each other’s arms.

But Namjoon’s not your boyfriend anymore. Your break up was messy due to your already messy and broken relationship. At some point, sex was all you had, was all you could enjoy in each other’s company. Any talking led to fights. Namjoon was right - you know each other so well that you simply couldn’t stand each other anymore.

You still can’t.

This didn’t change.

You realize that when Namjoon looks back at you, and everything you can see in his eyes is sadness and resentment. Your bond is way too broken. Things will never be the same as they were.

Quietly, he gets up from bed and walks towards the bathroom (you didn’t even realize this guest room has a bathroom). He comes back with a few tissues in hand. Without uttering a word, he wipes out his cum from your ass and back. Still trembling, you get up from bed, taking your panties from the ground and putting it back on as Namjoon adjusts his pants. Music still pumps out there. Chatting. Yelling. Inside this bedroom is dead silent, though.

He zips your dress up without you needing to ask. It’s like you can’t look at each other anymore.

“I’ll walk out first.” He says quietly after a while. You just nod, sitting on the edge of the bed again, still feeling your whole body weakened.

Namjoon takes the jacket from the floor and throws it over his shoulder. He puts his hand over the doorknob and looks at you again.

Words can’t really explain what you’re feeling right now. Embarrassment. Guilt. Sadness. Everything is mixed with your stunt nerves, steaming hot inside of your chest, as the ugliness of what you just did starts to sink in.

Yes, you like Mark. You really do.

But you loved Namjoon. You loved him for three years - and five months weren’t enough to completely destroy these feelings for him.

Despite this… you know that any new attempt at a relationship with him will lead to nothing but more hurt, more than your heart can bear. You don’t want to bleed for him anymore. You just want… peace.

Although your actions tonight will bring you anything but peace.

“I still have the same number.” He says, eyeing you seriously. “When you get tired of playing with that boy… you know who to call.”

You shiver.

Namjoon walks out, closing the door again.

Your anesthetized body can’t let you cry, even if you really want to. You just sit here, staring blankly at the carpet, until twenty minutes have passed and you feel safe enough to walk out… to the bedroom next door, where your boyfriend still lays asleep. You can’t even stand to look at him, ashamed, as if the walls of that bedroom have eyes and have witnessed your betrayal, as if the Universe around is judging you.

You sit at the edge of the bed, gripping your knees.

Your bond with Namjoon is broken - and you might’ve broken your bond with Mark, too.

But how could you fight Namjoon’s gravitational pull, when he’s the indisputable center of your personal galaxy - no matter how hard you try to deny it?

You jump, startled, feeling Mark’s sudden touch on your wrist. You look down at his half asleep figure, his eyes barely opened. “Y/N…?”

“Y-Yes?” You gulp.

Mark smiles.

“I love you.”

Being shot in the heart would’ve hurt less.

You nod, blinking the incoming tears away. Your mouth tastes like iron. Your chest weighs tons. Namjoon’s face still rewinds in your mind over and over again, even though he already left, leaving you weakened and trembling and cold and empty.

Mark won’t remember anything tomorrow morning.

Only these walls witness your terrible lie.

“I love you, too.”

#namjoon smut #namjoon angst #ksmutclub #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #bts smut #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts x reader #fic:gravity #THIS IS A BIT LATE LMAO BUT IT'S HERE!!!#PLEASE GIVE IT SOME LOVE!!!!

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cruelfeline · 3 years

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Hordak's situation in season five, in addition to being haunting and terrifying and soaked in despair, is so... just, plain interesting in terms of character development and mental state and potential real-world allegory.

Despite reconditioning, he's always discernible from the other clones by what I think I can best describe as "quiet melancholy. "

Other clones, when focused upon, show some level of enjoyment regarding their status. They are pleased to serve Prime. They are enthusiastic little zealots, bless them, and the show makes this quite clear.

Hordak was, once, too. Remember back in season three? I do. I remember feeling uneasy, watching him speak of being Prime's clone with such pride. Such reverence. So what happened?

Why is Hordak so quiet, so subdued, so clearly unhappy in season five? Why, when Prime talks about conquering Etheria, does he not show any sort of enthusiasm at the prospect? Or, rather, why does he show clear discomfort?

Loss of Entrapta and personal failures aside, Hordak is back home. Not only that, but he is back home at Prime's side, often working directly with him and, if not by title, then at least by proximity enjoying the sort of closeness a "top general" might enjoy.

Yes, Hordak has lost everything that we understand him to have enjoyed: his individuality, his freedom, his only friend/lover. But in Hordak's terms, in clone terms in general, this should be fine. After all, this is what he had always planned for: a return to Horde Prime, to the Galactic Horde, and all the trappings that come with it.

And yet, he is clearly unhappy. Prime's presence is no longer something to be treasured. The conquest of Etheria is no longer a motivating goal.

The why of it is something he struggles with throughout the season. Why is he no longer content in the place he longed to return to? Why, instead, does it hurt to be here? Why does he indulge in memories that, by all rights, should have been adequately suppressed, rather than happily serving his god?

It causes him so much distress, that he tries to literally torture it out of himself.

This is what he refers to, I think, when he asks Entrapta "what have you done to me?", for she is the source of it. She, along with his life on Etheria, is the reason Hordak can no longer be content as a dutiful servant of Horde Prime.

And the essence of it is both simple and sweet: she taught him what love actually feels like. By bonding with him, befriending him, loving him, she helped him recognize that what Prime offered was not love. Not the real, true sort borne of affection and intimacy and respect.

This is the crux of Hordak's dilemma, and it... ah, it's something of an allegory, isn't it? At least, I think it can be taken as one.

I can imagine that what Hordak has to work through, in season five, is what many people who leave closed religious communities have to work through: the difficulty of "knowing better," but still being bound to their home. The dichotomy of having seen more of the world, yet still finding it so hard to leave one's only family and belief system.

Hordak still follows Prime. He is still tied to him, still has that sense of belonging, that faith. Yet, at the same time, he knows that there is something different, something better, out there. He's experienced it. He's lived it. He's lost it.

It's such a painful stage in his development. In his mind, he's failed as an independent person, failed to conquer Etheria and lost his only friend by virtue of his own foolishness. Home, the Galactic Horde, is thus where he belongs - with his family. And yet... the connections and emotions he experienced in that "failed" independent life have made it so that he can no longer comfortably exist here.

He is torn between two lives: the oppressive religious home he's known since birth, and the wider world with all of its freedom and companionship... all because Entrapta showed it to him.

What has she done to him, indeed.

It takes him all season to work this out, to figure out why "home" is no longer the place of security and pride it once was. And even then, as the deleted scene shows us, he has his doubts, his hesitation: he panics upon turning against Prime. Even with Entrapta by his side once more, it's a difficult choice to make, a difficult position to be in: caught between two lives and not truly belonging in either.

Yet he makes the choice. He cuts those ties, and he takes that crucial step away from his own oppression, from that abusive home, forward into the life Entrapta showed him. Towards genuine love and companionship and freedom.

It's hard, but he does it. And in this way, his season five arc provides such a hopeful message to those in a similar situation, to those caught in-between, as he is.

It's a heartening thing, isn't it?

#hordak #entrapta #entrapdak

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lovee-infected · 4 years

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Hello! Recently I've seen a lot of twst blogs arguing on how twst characters are mischaracterized, especially Malleus. So do you have any ideas on how he is mischaracterized? Also, is it okay to ask for your general opinion on questions like a short character analysis or how a healthy a relationship with each twdt guy might be? Hope it's okay to ask!

For your first question anon, it's a GREAT thing to ask and to be honest I've been waiting for a chance to talk about him! And for your second one, yes, of course! I just love writing character analyis and it's totally okay to ask for character/personality/relationship analysis here! I've got a lot to say about Malleus so this is going to a detailed analysis about his whole personality.

There are commonly two popular opinions on how Malleus is which divides the fandom into two groups:

Group A:

Those who consider him to be an absolutely soft, baby dragon who just wants to be invited and have a friend. They believe that Malleus needs more attention and can be quite affectionate at the time, he can also be sometimes idiotic toward simple stuff like working with a computer or trying to talk with others which makes him even more adorable. "Despite Malleus's harsh and emo appearance and terrifying powers, Malleus is just a small baby inside," is also a common belief of this group.

Group B:

Those who argue that group A is totally shading everything important about Malleus's personality and true self just because he looks cute and plays with a childish tamagotchi. These group also comes up with rather strong points about his personality such as his status as a crown prince, his naturally dark personality as not only a dark fae but also Maleficent's grandchild, his maturity and cold nature and also, the aspect of his hellish powers which can make him look like an absolute monster at the time.

I believe most of you are familiar with these points of view but the question is, which one of them is the real Malleus?

And the answer is: Neither of them; yet both of them do have a point.

The main problem is how the fandom portraits him as either an emotional tamagotchi baby or an absolutely cold and heartless mister of evil, while the true Malleus is far beyond than just being either good, or bad.

Now let's discuss some of the important facts and common mistakes about Malleus's personality:

(1) Malleus isn't a baby, but he isn't a monster either

This is supposedly the main idea here which will be continued to be discussed through the rest of this analysis. This is often how many end up mischaracterizing him because: the way the describe Malleus is either too dark or too childish. What we need here, is a balance. This is the grandson of one of the most important Disney villains that we are talking about, and don't forget that Maleficent herself was confirmed to consume the powers of Hell, as she was indeed the mistress of all evil. So this dragon boy here surely isn't one to underestimate, and he clearly has inherited that hellish power of her grandmother. It's obviously seen through the story as well, from the way he was presented in chapter 2 and beans day event to how terrified other students always are to even talk about him.

But the thing is, there are softer aspects of his personality as well which prove that Malleus isn't just designed to present an undefeatable force of evil, and this is exactly what makes his personality a lot more interesting.

(2) Malleus is actually hard to approach and talk to

Let's be honest, Malleus isn't as soft and easy to befriend as many fans consider him to be. He doesn't get too friendly or chill as he speaks, and even his close allies like Silver and Sebek fail to get close to him as much as they wish to. When we talk about his dark aura, we aren't just talking about his horns and fearsome magic, it's also because of his personality itself. His calm yet cold tone always remains still regardless of who he's talking to. No need to mention that he isn't an ordinary student either, he not only comes from a well-known family but is also the crown-prince of valley of thorns. Out of all twst characters Malleus is the only one who is directly connected to the great seven by being Maleficent's grandson. His family and people on the other hand are overly protective over him, to the point of not letting him to even have a fake proposal in the ghost marriage event which means that Malleus has also got each and every of his actions under watch.

(3) He's slowly getting used to isolating himself

In his ceremonial robes story, he's obviously upset that he never had a chance to wear his ceremonial robes because he never got invited, but when Lilia says he'd one day overcome his ill fate and gets to wear them as he always wanted to, he says that he's fine. Then again when Lilia tried to bring him to the singing test in chapter 5 he avoids showing up. In his voice lines he also said: "Are you as well scared of me?" which is clearly shouting that he's no longer surprised to see people being afraid of him, he's getting used to being feared and at some point, hated. That's probably one of the bitter sides of his personality which he's slowly giving up on trying to change it.

(4) Malleus has got a great confidence and isn't shy at all

There many fanfics in which Malleus is presented as a shy boy who's scared of confessing to his s/o or asking them out, while he's the total opposite in reality. Just like Maleficent herself, he speaks calmly and in a formal tone, is very respectful as he speaks, and isn't one to ever have problem while talking to others.

It's others who always avoid talking to him while Malleus himself isn't the least uncomfortable with presenting his ideas and asking others for help when he needs to.

He isn't ever shy over his lack of ability to work with machines or asking others for help for seemingly childish issues like having his tamagotchi fixed or finding a friend for the GaoGao dragon.

The only thing left is how Lilia described him as "Kind of shy" in chapter five, which is most likely because of another reason discussed in part (3)

(5) He doesn't eat ice cream and play with a tamagotchi for no reason

Malleus explained that everything is ran by magic back in the valley of thorns and no one really uses any machines there, that's how he's pretty new to both technology and complicated tools.

I believe that the tamagotchi part was given to him on purpose, because else than showing the fact that he's bad with tools, it's great contrast to the harsh picture that his power and personality gives him!

Admit it, it's a funny and somehow, adorable contrast to see one of the strongest magicians who can burn the room to ashes in just a matter pf second playing with a children's toy. And I believe that it was given to him on purpose. They meant to give him some soft and cute features as well instead of just presenting him as an evil fae. He is indeed evil and his powers are terrifying, and that's how watching him play with a tamagotchi is rather surprising to many. If you saw Ortho or Cheka playing with one it wouldn't have gone any further than a simple "Awww" or "How cute" because it's something you'd expect to see from a kid, but when you see Malleus of all people playing with it, you can't help but to fascinated and flustered over how cute this fae's habits can be.

Ice cream on the other hand doesn't really have to do with cuteness, it's something Yana Toboso discovered while doing her researches on fae mythology which discuses that Dark faes enjoy cold and sweet foods, especially cream. So it doesn't really have anything to do with him being either a soft or a cruel boy, it's just a normal part of his nature as a fae.

(6) He might be crazily old to humans, but he's still pretty young as a fae

This one has really been getting on my nerves, come on people! It's true that he's probably been living for decades and possibly, centuries but don't forget that it isn't that much compared to a normal fae! Even Sebek calls him 'Young master' which means that he's still a pretty young one, no need to mention that he hasn't yet became the king either so he's not much different from the rest of the students in NRC.

I've seen people saying: "No Malleus won't do that he's -too old-" and I've got to say: What?

Come on even someone like Lilia who's been living for over 5 centuries can act like a nasty 14 year old at the time, so for faes at least, age isn't a limitation.

Malleus on the other hand is still a teenage fae! He needs to discover new things and talk with more people, just like a normal human being does. So if he doesn't enjoy doing anything too silly or stupid, it's because of his 'personality', not because he's too old. Even when tells Lilia that he isn't a child anymore, it's like how an 18 year old says it to his father.

(7) Malleus won't take insult easily

He is polite and respectful in general, but when he's offended, he'd seriously respond to it. Remember that a single swipe of hand from him can set the whole room on fire.

Rook and Leona were probably one step away from being burnt and when Leona really got on Malleus's nerves by humiliating him, Malleus stopped respecting him as a prince of an ally kingdom and humiliated back.

He is calm but to a specific point, and you can make sure that he won't be any soft or forgiving if you offend him, and it'll probably end in no good if he gets mad. So better not think that Malleus is one to just keep it in and later cry in a room because he's sad baby when someone dares insult him.

(8) Angelina Jolie's Maleficent has nothing to do with his story!

Nope, Malleus never had a lover who cut off his wings and sent him to a hell of depression and loneliness, and no you cannot find those two wounds on his back regardless of how romantic it may seem.

I admit it, it's a lovely Au, but it's JUST AN AU! I can still see people saying stuff like "Ohh!! Will we discover if Malleus too had his wings cut off in chapter 7?" and the answer is NO. While Angelina Jolie's Maleficent is surely a great one on its own, it needs be understood that twst's source of main information and characters designs is nothing else than the original Disney villains.

Malleus cannot be associated with any Maleficents else than the version we saw in 1959's sleeping beauty and it's an important fact to look through.

(9) Malleus is NOT Maleficent!

While they are a lot more similar than you can imagine(in both power and personality), let's not forget that Malleus is NOT Maleficent! He's a total new character on his own, and is unique in his own way.

He is twisted from Maleficent which means that no matter how similar they are, Malleus is a new character with a new personality.

Saying that he isn't soft at all and the fandom will see his true face when he overblots ( It's supposed to mean that the real Malleus is an absolutely evil and destructive one, just like Maleficent) is nothing different from denying all of Yana's hard work on designing him and his personality!

Malleus himself said that his grandmother's skills were far greater than his and most importantly: Malleus still has chance to have a better fate than Maleficent did.

Once again: He's still young! He still has a chance to be saved from turning into a heartless and isolated creature like Maleficent. No matter how cold he is, he hasn't yet got to the point of hating the whole world and losing all of his emotions. And that's why it's totally wrong to deny all the good that he might still have inside by saying that he isn't soft at all. He isn't a baby, but he isn't a monster either. Not yet.

(10) Even Lilia agrees that Malleus is still learning and his personality is in development

Can't you see? Malleus isn't attending to this school for no reason. His magic is already top notch, and his knowledge goes far greater than anything they might teach in NRC.

If you take a look at the story, you'll see signs of Lilia indirectly giving us signs of why Malleus still needed to attend to this school. In Malleus's SR robes' story, Lilia told him that he still has a lot to learn and knowledge isn't everything. And what might he find in NRC which has nothing to do with knowledge? People.

Lilia is trying to hold him back from isolating himself like Maleficent did, and is indeed trying to help him make friends and learn to get along with people without thinking that it's useless because they'd fear him anyway.

Also, he clearly wants Malleus to learn and experience new things in NRC by taking part in activities. In Malleus's Halloween SR story Lilia, who was always the one to choose Diasomnia's Halloween costumes, asks Malleus to choose this year's costume instead of him. Lilia first says that he wants Malleus to do it but later tells him that he has other reasons as well, he was trying to put Malleus into trying something new therefore he can have something learn from the experiment! (What a cute papa he really is...)

This is another proof of him not having the cold and unapproachable picture some imagine him to have, he isn't against experiencing and trying new things.

(11) He's still looking for a true friend

Malleus needs a friend, that's a fact. During his chats he mentions how Maleficent always had her loyal pet crow by her side as the only reliable creature she could always trust, and how Malleus wonders if he can ever find such a worthy ally of his own.

Even as he has Lilia, Silver and Sebek by his side he doesn't feel like he has such a friend.

People have been avoiding him through his whole life, and you can see how excited he got when Cater asked him for a selfie as he was one of the very first people who ever tried to approach him.

While he's slowly getting used to being feared by everyone, he'd still appreciate a friend and he needs one. Not even Maleficent herself could've made it all on her own without a friend by her side.

(12) Malleus isn't heartless

While he won't easily fall for anything or anyone, it isn't impossible for him to love.

We haven't yet seen anything that directly gets us to the point of love in the story but it's something you can tell through his actions and words.

When he cares for something or someone, he'd be serious about it.

Two obvious examples would be his tamagotchi and the ramshackle dorm. He'd certainly get out of his way to find someone to fix his dear tamagotchi and as we saw in the Halloween event, he furiously stated that he'd burn anyone who tries to the ramshackle dorm any harm, because he likes that place.

There isn't much he holds dear in life, but when he does, he won't let a single soul to take it away from him.

When he can be this protective over something that just entertains him, just try to imagine how far he might go to protect the one he loves. He falls in love very slowly and it'll probably take him a while to realize it if he actually does. He can begin with small interests and repeated meetings but at some point, it'll turn into a routine, an obsession. He won't easily fall in love, but when he does, he won't be able to easily let go of it either.

(13) His relationship with MC is far more important than you're thinking

Just by going through his voice lines, you can tell how MC is effecting Malleus's personality and life. I'm not saying that it's love or anything but the thing is, MC is changing Malleus nonetheless.

Their relationship has been a totally new thing for Malleus to experience from the very beginning, because MC didn't know him. Malleus is obviously used to being well-known as the infamous prince of the Draconia family by almost everyone, but MC was an exception.

He asked MC to talk to him and tell him stories, it can be clearly see that he enjoys talking to them.

He also mentioned that MC has made him feeling lots of things he hadn't felt before, which can also be connected to part (10) where we discussed how he's still young and needs more of communication and friends because he needs to learn.

Some argue that Malleus couldn't care less about MC and the only reason he shows up around them is because of the ramshackle dorm, which can be easily proven wrong by two hints:

1) Malleus sent a Happy holiday card to MC after the winter holiday.

2)What Malleus told Lilia at the end of the Halloween event stories after all the troubles that was brought upon the ramshackle dorm: "I want that human to enjoy Halloween too"

While it isn't necessarily romance that we're talking about, his relationship with MC is clearly telling us that he's a lot more of emotions and humanity inside him than what we were expecting.

At this point, it's important to see that in spite of his cold nature and mature personality he is slowly beginning to feel more and more emotions as the result of meeting newer people in NRC, especially MC. Saying that he is nothing but a heartless fae who is wrongly thought to be a soft and emotional boy is nothing different from judging him the same way as most of the people in twisted wonderland itself judge Malleus, it's important to see that he's a lot more.

His personality itself is surely amazing and as a Malleus hoe stan myself I can't wait to get more of his background in chapter 7, although it's probably going to be dark as well. They really did give his design a twist and that's how he's a balance of and menacingly powerful magician and a young boy who's just learning to deal with emotions.

For now, that's all I had in mind! Hope that I didn't miss anything. This was a general character analysis which also discussed some of the common mistakes about Malleus's personality but-

In case that you're wondering how he's being mischaracterized in reader insert fics, that'll be a totally different issue to discuss which would also need another post to be discussed through.

Small note: Just saying that there's often a dark lore to twst x reader fics (Especially for Malleus/ Leona x reader) which is usually better to be ignored while reading/writing for them...

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst theories #twisted wonderland theories #Twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #Character analysis #answered

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samaniala · 3 years

Text

SINGLE PARENT AU

Part 2 [ the reunion]

Fang had always known that boboiboy would get married atleast someday in his life. But maybe he was not ready to accept the news so suddenly. Afterall it could have been some silly rumour spread by his fan girls.

Turns out it was not a rumour...

Fang came to know this from BBB father, who he ran into on the way to the old town. Amato hadn't recognised him at first then when he did, he dragged him along to his house to meet his son saying it was nice seeing him after so many years ( it had been five years, not that fang was counting). Amato had always seen fang as his own son ever since he found out he was the son of the past governer and also his colleague's nephew. Nonetheless fang agreed to follow along.

On the way, Amato told him almost everything he wanted to know about. Gopal had recently opened his own restaurant after finishing culinary school. Yaya and Ying had become a docter, a pediatrician to be exact. And lastly that boboiboy was indeed married...

The marriage was held three months ago, Amato had said. Almost everyone was invited including some of the TAPOPs members such as Admiral Tarung and even commander kokoci. He said that Gopal and this other friends had tried to contact him but they couldn't reach him at all. ( Fang knew they couldn't reach him,he made sure of it himself by deleting their numbers and changing his phone).

They finally reached home and to say that it was awkward was an understatement. Ochobot was perhaps the only one who was genuinely happy to see fang. BBB was surprised to see fang again after so many years and fang didn't know how to describe his feelings about seeing how much boboiboy had changed in the years. He wasn't gremlin sized anymore,( he was almost taller than fang himself now, almost), he had also got an undercut and seemed to be hitting the gym regularly or something ( BBB glow up).

Meanwhile Ochobot now had invited the whole friend group over to see him and very soon the atmosphere grew pretty chaotic. Gopal was the first one who arrived and he immediately punched him for not answering his calls, this was followed by Ying nagging him about ignoring them and Yaya who scolded him for not bothering to visit them during all these years. This all ended Ochobot pulled them all along with boboiboy in a group hug. Then did fang notice boboiboy's wife who had entered the room during all this Chaos.

She seemed soft-spoken and introverted. She wore a cooler palette of clothes compared to warmer colours that BBB liked to wear all the time. She seemed calm and was pretty compared to earth standards.she greeted and welcomed him quite politely. Fang didn't know what to feel about her. But he could conclude one thing that...

Boboiboy and her looked good together ( for some reason, Fang's heart ached at this)

Fang didn't stay long after dinner and left after saying goodbye.

Fang felt pathetic, because he realised that perhaps his feelings for the elemental Hero had not gone yet, the same person who is now married. That night fang might or might not have cried himself to sleep.

Three weeks later came news that boboiboy was going to be a father soon. It was gopal who informed him this ( fang was forced to give all of them his recent new phone number). Fang later called BBB and congratulated him. Their call didn't last long.

Fang caught up with everything in the next two months that he stayed in. Mechamato was in Hiatus now and had decided to spend more time with his new family for the time he lost earlier. He was now running the kokotiam cafè( now that tok aba was no longer...)

Boboiboy helped him sometimes by taking care of it on the weekends or on holidays but not all the times since BBB had been promoted as a lieutenant. Fang was also promoted as a captain just recently. Turns out boboiboy was in a vacation.

Fang soon left earth for a new Mission. For some reason he was glad that he was going to be away for so long.

It was after this mission when he returned that he recieved the new about boboiboy' new family member and the loss of his wife. It was almost after an entire year.

His wife( fang didn't bother remembering her name last time.) Had passed away during childbirth. This had happened a month ago. But still fang decided to go see boboiboy and give his condolences. He might have not known her well but he knew what she meant to BBB and fang somehow understood how it felt to lose a loved one.

That was when he saw Amaya, boboiboy daughter ( Amato had named her) she had her father's eyes, Hazel. But her hair had a darker shade than BBB, probably got that from her mother. But still she had a few steaks of white in her hair that was visible. Fang had a feeling that she would be anything but calm when she grows up but he kept that to himself.

That was perhaps the last time he saw boboiboy face to face in person. After that he was given a solo disguise mission in a faraway planet. He could have turned it down, but he felt that his unrequited feelings might cause a problem for their friendship that had been restored recently, so he decided to do what he thought best, run away from his feelings.

He still had to stay in contact with BBB since boboiboy had his number now but boboiboy didn't call as often as he used to before. The only person he used to contact regularly was his brother( sometimes his brother's fiance as well).

Fang honestly never regretted any of the missions that he took, since it was due to this that he was able to meet one of his most precious person Bihir.

TBC.

#boboiboy #boifang #Part 2 #this is stupid #single parent au #unrequited love #Ramenzo #Slightly mentioned #If you want to ask something else about this then feel free to #english is my second language #So kindly ignore the mistakes and typos in there #This turned out quite long #Might have slipped my own HC about #Maskmana being fang and kaizo uncle but it is barely there so...#BBB

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everyonewasabird · 2 years

Text

Brickclub 5.1.4 “Five Less, One More”

God, Combeferre’s speech is magnificent. It’s this whole book distilled and leveled at some men he’s trying to save.

His speech a couple of chapters ago was garbled and disturbing, on the right track but pointing to all the wrong things, failing to make sense of what Joly and Lesgle were able to articulate clearly. He knows it was right to come here, even though it meant killing, but his soul rebels at killing and all his logic and affection for his friends can’t reconcile it.

But when there are lives that can and should be saved and he can help save them, he’s incredible. ”Angel with wings of a swan” indeed.

I’ve had different feelings over time about the description of the old woman he gives at the start. He’s using a deeply improbable rhetorical device there--he’s describing her in a way that builds the listener’s confidence that he saw her with his own eyes. But, of course, he absolutely did Not see her with his own eyes. Enjolras may have said, either casually or as part of his growth towards compassion for the individual, that he saw a worried old woman waiting at her fifth story window--but there’s no way he described the quality of the light, or the reflection, or any of the details Combeferre draws on.

I’ve thought before that Combeferre might be lying, or speculated there were reasons he could picture the scene so well, but--

I actually think this readthrough that it’s part of the mystical, near-magical omniscience he shows in this scene. He describes the old woman as if he sees her because at some level he does see her--by the same power that’s showing him Fantine walking back and forth in her ballgown before the windows of the bar all those years ago, or that’s showing him Valjean attempting by a last ditch effort to feed his nieces and nephews and instead being forced by the state to abandon them to starvation.

His description of the starvation and death of the child is effective and devastating. For all the misery in this book, Hugo is very, very careful about the actual deaths of children: we’ll get one, horrifyingly soon, but that’s all we ever see up close. Any other deaths of small children are by implication only--and often they don’t happen, or else we’re left with at least a little hope that they might not have. Combeferre’s description is the only death of a child that’s truly graphic.

He’s also allowed to go a little farther than Hugo does in another way, laying the blame for women’s childlike ignorance firmly at the feet of the men who deny them information and education. This book is rarely able to critique the place of comfortably-off women in society--but Combeferre is able to say: maybe they’re not childlike, actually. Maybe that’s also an injustice.

And, of course, for all that, he’s still a hypocrite, and we’re reminded of it right now specifically. Because he wouldn’t be Combeferre if he didn’t find a way to make even the sublime complicated and kind of weird.

Marius wakes up enough to try to save some lives, which is a big deal for him! But we also get a description immediately after Combeferre’s speech of Marius lost in a dissociative, ecstatic fog and hearing everyone speaking as if from the bottom of an abyss. And that’s at least partially because Combeferre just gave the cliff notes of the brick itself--he listed out every lesson Marius most needs to learn. Marius still thinks women are divided into rigid Good and Bad categories depending on their sexual morality! He still doesn’t understand that crimes committed to prevent the starvation of one’s family are just and right. If he’d been listening, there might have been some food for thought here!

But no. Nothing with Marius is ever that easy.

Marius is confronted with the doom of fours, an awful version of it: there are four uniforms, and five men with families. It’s up to him to choose which man--and which man’s family--will die.

And then, as with all the most impossible moments Marius faces, someone much more capable shows up and makes the decision for him.

Jean Valjean brings the fifth uniform, saving Marius from doom.

#brickclub #lm 5.1.4

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togetherweflyhigh · 3 years

Text

Chronicles Of Owning A Hybrid| Chapter 1: Here You Are

Pairing: Ragdoll Hybrid! Yoongi x Owner! Female Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU, slow burn, eventual romance

Trigger Warnings: Brief mentions of past harassment/bullying, brief mentions of being gaslighted

W/C: 2.2k

A/N: So, I wrote something. This was very spontaneous of me but this is my first BTS and hybrid related fic. I very much have plans to have this as a small series. From short to long chapters. I have no idea how much this will be updated.

Comments and kudos are encouraged!

It wasn’t supposed to happen, truthfully.

You were asked by a friend to attend a consultation with them because they felt nervous about going in alone. They needed some support so, going with them was going to be fine. Because that’s all that was supposed to happen.

Now, here you were at your appointment, alone because you weren’t sure how to ask your friend since they were home still getting associated with their hybrid. Nobody knew you were here doing this. Reviewing over a cat hybrid- a Ragdoll- that was on his fourth strike.

Past families that adopted this hybrid before only saw the breed he was. A pretty Ragdoll cat. Not the human he mostly presented as. They thought that just because he was mixed with a Ragdoll meant he would be gentle, calm, and sociable. A known cat breed to be perfect with families. What they got was the complete opposite.

The most they seemed to be able to tell you was he’d been adopted four times already, the longest housing being six months. He was quiet and didn’t interact much with the other hybrids in the shelter. Mostly stayed in the same areas in the room they had for them. The way they spoke about him, made you think they were trying to discourage you from adoption. You couldn’t see what was so wrong with him even when they were describing him as distant and antisocial, overall unfriendly. It still didn’t make you rethink it for some reason. Something in you wanted to give him a place to call home after hearing all this.

---------------------

A few weeks went by with no word from the shelter. You were starting to think the extra shifts for the past month and a half at work for preparation were in vain. Perhaps they were being more cautious of his strikes and worried you would return him like all the others. If it was, for this reason, you really couldn’t blame them to be picky about who was to attempt adopting him next. You could only hope they cared so much for those in their care.

As you washed some dishes that had been a bit overdue, your phone rang. You weren’t quick to answer, at first, as hope had gone from high to low in the few weeks. Though, you still dried your hands-off because it could have been work. Who knew you’d be seeing the number you’d familiarize yourself with. Your heartbeat must have doubled as you stumbled over, sliding the answer button. “H-Hello?” You answered, cringing over your nervous voice. “This is Hope’s Shelter calling for (Y/N)(L/N), we were wondering if you were still interested in adopting?” The words felt like they were going through one ear and out the other. You weren’t all too sure what to expect when answering the call but hope had suddenly being reassured. “Yes, of course!” You answered almost too quickly. The eagerness felt as if it was spilling out of you at this point. “Great! Would Thursday be fine for you to come in?” It was currently Monday, another few days was nothing to wait for after these weeks. “That works out perfectly.”

After the short goodbyes were said, you stood there in your kitchen nearly dumbfounded. You were officially days away from adopting a hybrid. Suddenly, the mixed feeling of excitement and worry came over you. The first week was only filled with thoughts of not living in your apartment alone anymore. In the past, you had roommates. Some worked out just fine and others not so much. To the point, you never wanted to experience them again unless it was a close friend.

The second week was filled with doubts of if you even seemed worthy enough to take care of another, especially when the other couldn’t exactly take care of themselves. Hybrids didn’t have much freedom. They couldn’t go anywhere alone without their owners. Unless they were service hybrids, which there was a lot to go through to get them certified. They really couldn’t do anything and suddenly thinking about that, you realize how weird it’s going to be for someone to call or to even refer to you as their ‘owner’ will be.

There was no way in hell you could treat hybrids as a pet. They were way more human than human and capable of feelings of understanding, not at all saying normal animals weren’t capable of such. There were a few times you’d gone over to a friend’s house and they introduced you to their hybrid. Sure they had some traits of the animal they were mixed with, but they acted like their human part in front of you for the most part. This was nearly the only time you’d interacted with hybrids. So, the experience was on the low of how they truly acted behind closed doors.

-----------------------

The few days of waiting went by sluggishly. Mentally you had a list of things to do or things you thought you needed to do before Thursday. You went out and bought a few different types of clothes, not much as you had no idea of what he would like. Bought more food than you’d ever stocked your home with before, again, not knowing what he would like. There was so much you didn’t even know about him yet, not even his name.

Standing in front of the shelter, the weeks and days of waiting were finally over. The nerves and enthusiasm had mellowed out in the slow waiting days. Though, you couldn’t help feel a little nervous walking into the shelter.

Almost immediately, you were pulled into an office to go over some paperwork. It was nearly the same as papers to adopt a normal animal. It didn’t seem as strict since you didn’t need things for an animal. Though, you were surprised at how they didn’t seem so… disheartening towards you anymore.

Signing the papers felt unreal as the pen glided across the paper. You had officially adopted a hybrid.

---------------

Being a hybrid wasn’t all it was cut out to be, at least, not for Yoongi. Spending nearly all his life in the shelter. Maybe a year and a half were in actual homes. It was probably not even that if he was being honest with himself, but after the third home, he stopped counting the days and hoping.

The first time he was adopted, he was around ten years old, a little old for being adopted but nothing too bad. The family was looking for a hybrid around their twin son and daughter’s age, and Yoongi just happened to be two years younger than them. It was perfect they thought. It seemed like a happy family a month in but there was change. The children were constantly harassing him, pulling his ears and tail, pressured him to do things that would get the adults involved to the point of punishments.

It went on for months before they returned him, saying he was a deceiver and untameable. Yoongi was unsure of what they meant by this as it was their children who were the liars. Even when he told the caregivers of the time he had with them, it never seemed like they thought he was telling the truth either.

It was some years before Yoongi was adopted again. Age thirteen going on fourteen. He was adopted by a young couple. Must have been between the ages twenty-two to twenty-five. He never got around to asking because as soon as he was there he was brought back. The couple seemed to want to prove to themselves that they could take care of another breathing being. That is what he gathered by overhearing them a few times. All it did was tear them apart in the end over disagreements on how to take care of him.

The next two times were practically the same. One was lonely while the other was another person trying to prove something to themselves. Yoongi was done with these humans and their selfish ways. He didn’t want to attempt to get close with them anymore when he knew that they would return him like a replaceable item in the end.

Yet, another was trying to adopt him again. ‘I’m too old for this.’ He thought to himself when he was dragged into the office to be told someone was interested in him. Being twenty-five years old as a hybrid was considered old. Unadoptable. Plus he was on his fourth strike. A fifth- and by law- would mean he would have to be put to sleep.

The weeks dragged on because of him constantly denying to see through with this person’s desire to adopt him. It was an actual decision between life and death. He thought about it though. Would he rather be stuck in here? Wasting away inclosed in white walls or to live out in the world just a little bit longer, if the person would let him out that was.

-----------------

The introduction of you and the hybrid, who you now knew as Yoongi was, well, short and awkward. Was it to be expected? The short answer is yes. Yoongi seemed unfazed and distant right away which, in a way, you know he would be like this. The real question was, was he always going to be like this. You were new to each other, so feeling like strangers was going to be present for a while.

The taxi ride home was silent. Nothing but the sound of wheels on the pavement with random songs playing on the radio softly. You wanted to make some kind of conversation with Yoongi, you did, but with awkwardness still lingering heavily in the air, it was difficult to start with anything. It was interesting to spot his ears out of the corner of your eye, twitching ever so often.

The climb up the stairs was just as silent. Nothing but the taps of feet with some huffs from you nearly the top. No matter how many times you’d walked up these four flights of stairs, you were sure to always be out of breath before reaching your door.

By the time you reached your door, you were indeed out of breath, and with the last huff, you pulled out your key unlocking the door, pushing it open revealing the seemingly small apartment. “And home.” You spoke out as you began pulling your shoes off, placing them on a rack before slipping into house slippers. “Oh, here’s some slippers for you. If you want to wear them.” You already owned some for when you had guests but you went ahead and bought new ones specially for Yoongi. Looking at them now, they seemed a bit… small. Though it didn’t seem to matter as Yoongi slipped off the shoes the shelter provided and ignored the slippers.

“I have a room for you ready.” You spoke again after a moment of silence. Seems silence between you two was something you were going to have to get used to. Walking through the kitchen and living area- either side had a room the same size. Though the room to the right used to be your storage and office space, you were able to move things around in your room for your desk and got rid of some stuff you’ve been meaning to. Now the once-office turned back to a bedroom. It was pretty bare besides the matching wood bed and dresser you’d bought.

Moving aside to the doorframe, allowing Yoongi in the room to inspect it. His eyes never seemed to stop taking in things. His ears moved with him as he looked around and his tail was low as the tip curled to one side.

As he took in the new home, you took in his unique hair color. It was probably the Ragdoll genes but the contrast between his hair and the fur on his ears and tail were a bit different. His hair was silver-grey and as for the fur, it was a bit lighter in the same color. You wondered for a moment if his DNA was manipulative to make the animal features stand out more but you quickly shook the thought away. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable even though it was just a thought.

“There’s some clothes in the dresser. I wasn’t sure what you like so, there are a few things in the dresser. Just for until we go shopping.” The response you got was nothing but an ‘mhm’. Yoongi seemed uninterested but curious about the clothes you’d gotten. He wanted to know if it was the type they would get him. Well-fitted ones that rubbed and itched all over. As he pulled them out, sure enough, there were the ones he knew he would find but as he kept pulling out and unfolding the clothes he found some that were baggy and much softer. Something about watching him digging through the clothes felt endearing and it showed on your face with a small smile on your lips.

As you turned away to allow him to have some privacy you wondered to yourself what Yoongi would want to have for dinner.

#min yoongi x reader #hybrid!yoongi x reader #hybrid!bts x reader #bts x reader #bts hybrid au #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader

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talatomaz · 4 years

Text

crossing paths pt.ii | diana prince x lance!reader

a/n: reader has the powers of telekinesis. i’m not sure if I like how this went tbh but oh well

warnings: mentions of fighting

word count: 2.7k

masterlist | request list | request rules

pt.i | pt.ii

reader is sara & laurel’s younger sister who works with team flash. after her and cisco’s experiment goes sideways, she finds herself trapped on an unknown earth not unlike her own

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

Home Sweet Home.

Exiting the train station, you exhaled a deep breath and took in your surroundings. Most importantly, the huge sign that had “WELCOME TO CENTRAL CITY” scrawled across the board.

After the events of the day, you’d decided that the best course of action would be to make your way to this Earth’s Central City.

You’d figured they had to have a Star Labs which you knew would hold the necessary equipment you needed to fix the extrapolator or at least the communication function so you could contact Cisco.

Luckily, whilst on your journey, you’d managed to hack into the train’s wireless computer so you could then erase the museum’s security footage from your phone. The footage of your fight with the robbers was the last thing you needed getting out.

Hailing a cab, you made your way to Star Labs, having pocketed one of the maps that detailed the route to the facility from the train station.

In little over 20 minutes, you had arrived. Paying the driver with what little cash you had left, you craned your neck to look up at this Earth’s Star Labs.

It was different to the one back home. Yes, it was modelled fairly similarly but this had a more...robotic feeling and was definitely a lot darker than yours.

Though you supposed that was because this Star Labs seemed to be more full, several employees walking in and out of the building.

Whereas the Star Labs back home, whilst full of technology, was only home to Team Flash and no one else. The risk far too great for ordinary people to see what you were doing.

Entering the building, you quickly donned a white lab coat and went in search for the equipment you needed to fix the breach device.

Finding a secure room, you put on your mask and used your powers to open the door.

As you walked in, you let out a small gasp. The room was larger than you’d expected; filled to the brim with computers and screens all hooked up to one another. Making your way to one of the larger ones, you began writing a line of code. Then you took out the extrapolator, placing it on the table and grabbed some tools that were on the desk.

You started to mend the broken device, remaining careful and alert incase someone was going to catch you. You were about halfway through when you felt a familiar rush of air and found yourself in an unknown area.

Not unlike Star Labs, it was filled with computers and the like but also held training equipment in the far side of the room. Then you felt yourself tied to the back of a chair, staring up at a group of men.

You recognised most of them, except the one that could only be described as a half-man, half-cyborg hybrid.

“Oh fuck.” You murmured to yourself.

This was all you needed.

To be captured by none other than Batman, Superman and the Flash.

“Yes, indeed. Who are you?” Superman asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

You narrowed your brows, analysing each of their outfits. This Earth’s Superman outfit was different to the one back home. Batman, you’d never really met before so you couldn’t comment.

But the most interesting was the Flash’s outfit.

It appeared to be made up of metallic materials whereas Barry’s was made out of intense heat-resistant and abrasion resistant polymer and some other stuff that Cisco had explained to you that you didn’t take note of.

“More importantly, where are you from?”

You heard a familiar voice say behind you.

You turned your body, as best you could since you were confined to a chair, and felt your jaw drop at the female who stood before you.

Not only was she the woman you’d met earlier at the museum but she was freaking Wonder Woman!

“Holy shit. Cisco is going to be so jealous he didn’t come here.”

“Who’s Cisco? And where did you come from?”

Not giving you time to answer, the brunette continued, “I saw you earlier at the Metropolis museum. You told me about the criminals.”

“We tried to pull the security footage but it had mysteriously been erased.” The man you nicknamed Cyborg said. “Why were you at Star Labs?” He asked.

“You know. You gotta let a girl answer before you continue asking questions.” You joked.

“This isn’t a joke. Tell us who you are.” Batman spoke for the first time, his voice coming out hoarse and rough. Probably from a voice distorter.

“I will. As soon as you untie me.”

When the five of them stared at you, you sighed.

“Guess I’ll do it myself then.”

With a flick of your fingers, the ropes that bound you came loose and you stood to face the group.

They immediately went into fighting stances, ready to take you down if need be.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” you scoffed, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just don’t like being tied up. Unless we’re in the bedroom.” You teased, laughing to yourself.

“You’re a meta.” Wonder Woman commented.

Placing your hand in your pockets, you were about to reply when you felt that they were empty.

“Wait, where the hell is the extrapolator?”

“Oh, you mean this?” The Flash said, holding the device in his hand.

“Give that to me.” You ordered, charging your way to the speedster before Batman stood in your way.

“I don’t think so.”

“Barry, that is not something to play around with. Give me that.” You repeated.

“Wait, how do you know my name?” He paused, everyone’s eyes trained on you.

“It’s a long story. Now please, put down that device.” You sighed when he placed it on the table beside him.

When he put it on the surface, he must have accidentally pressed a button because Cisco’s body popped up like a hologram.

“What on Earth?” You heard Wonder Woman say.

“Y/N! Where the hell are you? Woah, is that Batman?!” Cisco’s voice crackled through the device as the hologram glitched.

“Cisco, the device broke. Can you track what Earth I’m on using the GPS?”

“I can try. But I need you to fix the small chip that’s in the extrapolator first.”

The Cisco hologram glitched out and faded away.

“Shit.” You murmured to yourself.

“What do you mean ‘what Earth’? Who are you?” Batman said.

Sighing, you spoke, “I’m not from this Earth.”

“You’re an alien?” Barry exclaimed.

“What? No! The only alien here is Clark.”

You gestured towards the Man of Steel.

“How do you know who I am? Did Lex send you?”

“Oh, please. As if I’d work with that idiot. Besides, I like his sister much better. As I was saying, I’m from an Earth called Earth Prime.”

Then you gave them all a brief explanation of the rebirth of the Universe and how you’d arrived here.

“Ever heard of Everett’s many-worlds theory? Simply put, this Earth is not the only Earth that exists. I come from a parallel Earth where I work with the Flash and several other heroes, including Supergirl and Batwoman. Though no one’s seen Kate in a while.”

Looking into each of their eyes, you could still see apprehension.

Facing Wonder Woman, you held out your wrist, “Use your lasso of truth and you’ll see I’m not lying.”

“How did you-”

She started before you interrupted her, “Do it and then I’ll explain.”

You watched as she removed the rope from her armour and wrapped one end around your wrist.

Your eyes widened as the rope started to glow a bright yellow, the material feeling warm against your skin.

“What I just said was true. And I know about all of you. Your parallel selves are my family and friends back home. And Wonder Woman-”

“You may call me Diana.” She interjected, flashing you a kind smile.

“And Diana,” you corrected, “you’re somewhat of a Legend where I come from. I visited Themyscira once, it was beautiful.”

“My home is hidden from Man’s world. How did you see it?”

“My sister, Sara, travels through time with her team and when I worked with her for a brief period, my friend, Zari, and I, took Helen of Troy to your island to save her. Anyways, you do exist on my Earth but no one really knows of you.”

Diana stared at you for a few moments, her intense glare making you weak in the knees, if you were being honest.

It was as if she was looking right into your soul.

Whatever she saw must have pleased her because her gaze faltered and she removed the lasso from you.

“She’s telling the truth, guys.”

“Thank you. Now I need to fix the extrapolator or I won’t be able to get home.”

“So that little thing can make anyone travel between worlds?” Cyborg asked.

“Yes, exactly.”

“It’s like one of those damned mother boxes that almost destroyed our world.” Bruce said harshly. “We can’t risk having that here. We need to destroy it.”

“Don’t even think about it.” You spat out, your hands clenched at your sides.

You narrowed your eyes, watching for any indication of movement from the vigilante.

The only warning you had was Bruce’s muscle tensing before he reached for the table that held the device.

In a quick motion, you used your powers to throw the former into a pile of boxes to break his fall.

The playboy rose to his feet and charged at you, ignoring the shouts of his team.

You blocked his punch and deflected his kick. Ducking when he swung his arm, you used all your strength to throw him over you.

He reached into his cape and you flung whatever he was about to hurl at you into the wall. He swiped at your legs, making you stumble to the ground. You picked yourself up and when he ran at you, once more, you used your powers of telekinesis to rise in the air above him.

You extended your hand in front of you and lifted him in the air to face you. He struggled within your hold before you both looked down at Diana who’d shouted.

“Enough! Y/N, put Bruce back on the ground.”

With a crash, Bruce fell to the floor whilst you gracefully landed upright on your feet.

“Bruce, this device isn’t as harmful as the mother boxes. And it is her only way home, we cannot destroy it.”

Diana said calmly as Bruce huffed and murmured a curse.

“Listen, Batboy. I will kick your ass again if you don’t shut up.” You said, meaning every word.

“I’m not trying to be hostile here but I only came here to prove my theory which I’ve clearly done so now I just want to repair the device and go home.”

Walking over to the table, you picked up the extrapolator and inspected it. Your heart dropped when you saw a crack in the chip.

You knew that there was no way to fix the locator.

“Y/N, is everything okay?”

Your voice not strong enough to answer, you shook your head. Clicking the communication button, you saw Cisco’s hologram appear again.

“Y/N, have you fixed the GPS chip yet? Y/N, what’s wrong?” Your friend asked in concern.

“The chip’s broken. Majorly so. I’m going to need to replace it but the only replica of the chip is-”

“Here.” Cisco finished. “Is there a Star Labs near you?”

“Yeah, I went there earlier to fix the damage but there wasn’t any chip. I checked.”

“Okay, I just need to create another extrapolator and then somehow come and get you.”

“Cisco, you know that can take weeks.” You sighed.

“Y/N, it’ll be fine. We’ve been stuck on other Earths before. Including with a telepathic gorilla. I doubt there’s any Earth worse than that.” He said, trying to inject some levity in the conversations.

“You’re right. Look, don’t tell the team. You and I both know that they’ll just worry and I don’t need them telling Sara or Dinah either because they’re too protective. Just lie and say that I was missing Laurel and decided to take a vacation.”

“You got it. Stay safe, y/n. And keep this extrapolator with you so I can speak to you.”

“You got it. Bye, Cisco.”

Once again, the hologram faded away and you hung your head.

Cisco was right.

It was not the first time this had happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. You were damned if you’d let this get you down.

Clearing your throat, you straightened and faced the group, having forgotten that they were there for the entire exchange.

“Guess I’m going to be in your hair for a little while longer.”

***

It had been 3 weeks since the day you’d arrived on this Earth.

Diana had kindly invited you to stay with her whilst you waited for Cisco to arrive. You remained in constant contact with the latter; he wanted to keep you updated on his progress.

You were still on rocky terms with Bruce, him not appreciating you beating him. He was stubborn and irritating but reminded you of Oliver in that regard.

You helped the Flash with his speed, giving him tips on how to manage it and retain his strength which you’d learned from having closely worked with Barry all these years.

You also got on fairly well with Superman and Cyborg and even met Aquaman who tried to hit on you the moment he saw you.

But out of everyone, you’d grown close to the Amazonian warrior. The first night you’d stayed with her, you found yourself talking to her all through the night until the sun had come up.

She had told you about her family back home and you told her about yours. You supposed it was easier to tell her than anyone else since she’d endured so much loss and pain and understood what it was like to be separated from her family.

“Y/N, you ready to go?”

Interrupted from your thoughts, you turned to face the beautiful brunette who had a soft smile painted on her face.

She had asked you to dinner a few days before, telling you she wanted to give you both a relaxing evening. You had graciously, and rather, immediately accepted the invitation.

The truth was that, over these past few weeks, you found yourself hoarding a crush on the Goddess.

You could have disregarded it as a schoolgirl crush but the last time you’d ever felt like this, was when you were with Thea. But that had ended amicably after she found love with Roy.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

After eating outdoors at a small bistro, the two of you strolled down the street. Then your heart skipped a beat when she slid her hand in yours.

Looking up at her, you saw a gleam in eyes as she smiled at you which you reciprocated. You basked in the feel of her hand against yours, her warmth spreading through you.

Then you both jumped when her phone started to trill in her pocket.

“Diana Prince.” She answered her phone, humming in response before disconnecting the call.

“That was Bruce. He needs us at Star Labs. Both of us.”

She answered when you opened your mouth to ask just that. Closing your mouth, you nodded and ducked with her into an alley so you could both fly to the building.

“What is it, Bruce?” Diana asked as the two of you walked into the facility.

“The mainframe’s been going crazy. It’s as if someone’s breaking in here but no one actually is.” Cyborg answered instead.

Running up to the screen, you noticed the flashing alarms on the screen.

“Well, at least you guys have better security than we do.”

Pulling up the schematics of the building, you furrowed your brows at the thermal energy reading.

Parting your lips, ready to voice your confusion, you jumped back when a breach opened up in front of you.

When it closed, it left two people in its wake.

Barry and Sara.

“Y/N, Cisco told us what happened. We’re here to take you home.”

Glancing behind you, your eyes fell on Diana whose eyes flickered between you and your friends.

“God, I’m going to kill Cisco.”

<- Part 1

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