#and i imagine she had extremely pale skin even for a Chosen

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Can I request a scenario Boa Hancock reader is chosen as champion to fight against yandere Apollo?

-When Apollo first heard that his opponent was a woman, he wasn’t bothered, he didn’t even look upset! Which was a bit unusual to see, as he was usually so much softer and nicer to women.

-Ares was the one to find out the truth as Apollo was gloating to him, “I have never met a woman that has resisted my charms before. She will forfeit the match once I sweep her off her feet! There’ll be no need for fighting at all!”

-However, that’s exactly why Brunnhilde had chose you as the next fighter, knowing full well that you wouldn’t be swayed by his good looks or charming personality. She had complete faith in you and your skills, something you did give her a small, true smile for.

-You knew what was at stake in this tournament, and the less you had to leave to the men to handle, the better. You knew it was much better to do things yourself.

-Apollo was the first to enter the arena, the cheers of women ringing out all around you, while you were waiting in the backstage area. You knew he was like any other men, toying with women’s hearts.

-You refused to become his newest toy.

-When Heimdall started hyping you up, introducing you as the most beautiful woman in the world, the audience was stunned silent as you walked, seeing that his words were true.

-You were like a vision; someone they would have never come up with in their minds of the most beautiful woman in the world. All their imaginations paled in comparison to the beauty that you held.

-Apollo was even surprised, he had met many stunning beauties in his life, but none seemed to hold a candle to you. And not only were you beautiful, but you radiated confidence, showing your position as the pirate empress you were when you died.

-Apollo was the one gawking at you, stunned by you, and not the other way around, but he was quick to bounce back instantly smiling, his teeth sparkling, smoothing his hair back with his hand, “I must say, Y/N, your beauty is unmatched. You even took my breath away~”

-Expecting you to fall for him, Apollo froze when he started to approach you and you snapped, “Do not approach me, filth!”

-Ooh~ you were just getting better and better as Apollo’s adoration for you grew, seeing that you were spicy.

-Your eyes were dull but sharp, like you were looking at a pile of garbage, before you spoke, “And your praise means nothing to me, I know I am beautiful. Your empty words will not work on me.”

-Your words quickly had many jeering at you, thinking you were too cocky for your own good. Apollo went to defend you, thinking that you deserved nothing but the upmost praise, but you turned, your hair swirling around you as you looked up at those jeering and instantly, they were blushing, their eyes turning into pulsating hearts as they declared their love for you, both men and women.

-You smirked, turning back to Apollo, one hand coming to your hips as you grounded yourself in your heels as you slowly tilted yourself back, “Their love- their adoration to me- no matter what I do, even if I kill someone, everyone will forgive me! Why? Because I’m beautiful!!”

-The crowd cheered and Heimdall was gushing, “It’s Y/N’s Extreme Looking Down Pose!!!” as you were bent in half, looking down upon him.

-Apollo thought you were amusing, you were just getting better and better in his eyes, you were such a complex individual, so open with your feelings, so unapologetically you!! You were amazing!

-He wanted to know more- no! He wanted to know everything about you! He wanted to know what you liked, disliked, your skin and hair care routine, if you even had one as you were perfection.

-Apollo wanted to know your past, he wanted to be a part of your present, and he wanted to be the only part in your future!!

-You saw his look morphing into something familiar and dark, like how those men, all those years ago, looked at you, when they branded you, when they had treated you so cruelly.

-Your eyes were like ice when you met his gaze, you refused to let any man treat you like that again, you wouldn’t allow it.

-Apollo was fully ready to throw the fight himself, kneeling before you, as if he was worshipping you, rather than the other way around, “My beautiful Y/N, I will forfeit the match to you, if only you allow me to be by your side from this day forward!”

-The other gods were in outrage, hearing his words, shouting at him to not throw the fight to you.

-Your glare seemed to only grow colder, hearing his stipulations as you lifted a hand to your hip, “You men are all alike, demanding things of me as if I owe any of you anything.”

-Apollo was stammering, in shock that you were angry with him, why were you angry?!

-You lifted your hands, making a heart shape as you inhaled deeply, ready to end this in an instant.

-Seeing your determination to fight, Apollo was stunned once more, seeing the fire behind your eyes. Why were you willing to fight? To possibly die?! Did something happen that made you so desperate to fight? Who did it- he would kill them!

-Apollo knew that to get you, he would need to prove himself and defeat you, but not kill you, you were too beautiful, too precious, to be snuffed out.

-He was going to win, so he could keep you safe for the rest of eternity, there by his side.

[nevermoraa]

*To preface, this fic is basically an adaptation/combination of a couple fics I read and really liked. Most of this is not my original work. I did make lots of changes(character is different, and I made some grammar and spelling corrections), but the rest of the credit goes to the original author*

The original fic: (insert here) I still need to find it again lol. If anyone can find it, please send it to me so I can credit the original writer. It’s a Zhongli fic by the same name.

The Chosen One

Ayato X Fem!Reader

Part 1/2

Warnings: Kidnapping, mentions of pregnancy, ooc Thoma(Sorry to all of you in advance. He mean…), NSFW after the marker

(If there are any more warnings I forgot, let me know)

You could have sworn it would be another ordinary and boring day in your life. Well, it was, until a familiar man accompanied by strange people invaded your house.

“You’re the chosen one” the tall man said, a cold atmosphere around him.

“The chosen one?” You asked confused, anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach.

“Chosen for what, Thoma?”

“I’m not the one who will tell you” He spoke harshly, before commanding some guards to manhandle you to somewhere you didn’t even know yet.

The journey was long. So long that you had to sleep some days along the path until you arrived there. Many times you asked the people you were with about where they were taking you and what they were doing, only to be ignored. You just wanted everything to end. You wanted to go back home. But with time you learned that staying quiet was the best option. It wasn’t like they were going to give you any information anyways.

You arrived at the destination you were so curious about 3 days later. It was so beautiful. The sea lapping at the cliffs below, twisted trees with purple leaves all around, a large house with many gardens, and a sitting area out front with two bamboo mats and a low table.

Your heart raced when you felt the guards drag you towards the luxurious building. You weren’t used to so many things going on around you and everywhere you went had things that looked extremely costly. You had always lived a simple life and enjoyed it that way. You felt as though you weren’t dressed to even enter a place like this.

“Please” You begged, only to have your arms gripped with more cruelty as you approached the large wooden doors.

“Save it” Thoma said, looking at you with disgust. “You are not here because I want it. You are here because that was what Master Kamisato has asked of me”

“Kamisato Ayato?” You never thought you would ever even see him face-to-face in your life let alone him requesting your presence specifically.

“Enough, Thoma” A deep voice rang out from behind you. “You brought her safely here. That’s what I asked you to do. You can leave now.”

“But…Why her, Master Kamisato? She’s just a common girl. There are many other women that are capable of giving you an heir out there in Inazuma. Why did you choose her?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation. I chose her because she is the woman I want. You can leave now” The last four words were spoken with annoyance and harshness that you had not expected, and they gained a scoff from Thoma.

“Pathetic…” He whispered before turning around and leaving.

When the giant doors closed, with you and one of the most important men in Inazuma in the room, a shiver runs down your spine as you let his words sink in.

Giving Kamisato Ayato an heir?

That means you would carry his child…

You of all people?

Why you?

Did he watch you somehow?

That and so many other thoughts raced in your mind, making you dizzy.

“Don’t be scared. Don’t let anxiety blur your thoughts.” He had appeared out of nowhere right behind you, his voice making you stiffen.

You decide to stay quiet, afraid of bringing yourself more trouble. All you did was turn around and take in his beauty. Pale skin, lavender purple eyes, and most noticeably, baby blue hair. His suit was so neat and white that you couldn’t even imagine how long it took to wash and iron it. His air of elegance washed over you like a cold breeze in an instant.

“You look so astonished it hurts, y/n”

He knew your name. He called you by your name. That would be an honor anyone would throw themselves off of a bridge for.

“You...You know me?” That line carried a lot of fear, but also some admiration hidden deep below.

“I know all of this must be overwhelming you, my queen. I'll give you all the time you need to adjust to this new life, home, and me. All I want is your trust. I just need a confirmation that you will obey me and only me. Can you do that for me, my love?”

You shivered. It wasn't like you had any chance in a fight against him or his guards. You didn't have the strength, and deep down, you wanted to stay. Your heart belonged to him from the moment he defended you from his subordinates.

“I beg your forgiveness for what you've been through on the journey here. Even though I gave them explicit instructions to speak to you and act as though you were royalty, they are obviously unqualified to treat a woman like you how she deserves to be treated.”

“There's no problem at all, Sir Kamisato. It's okay…” You said in a low tone, too overloaded from all that had happened today to feel anything.

“Call me Ayato. I'm Sir or Master Kamisato to my subordinates, not to you, who are now my lover.” He suddenly pulled out an ornate gold ring from somewhere in his jacket. “Will you be mine, y/n?” He said, holding your hand gently with such care and grace.

“I suppose I'm already yours, Ayato.” You whispered, accepting the ring. It fit perfectly, which momentarily surprised you. Before you could process any more information, you felt his soft lips press against yours, lightly asking for permission. You deepen the kiss, sealing your love with the act.

Some hours passed and your anxiety was through the roof as you explored what was to be your new home. Had you made a wise choice to just agree? Perhaps it was one of the worst decisions you had made in your whole lifetime. Hopefully your future as Ayato’s wife will be better than you had initially imagined. Only time would answer…

You slept next to him that night. His bedroom was probably the most eloquently decorated room in the whole house. The bed was neatly done with the finest silk sheets you had ever felt. The headboard was ornately carved wood and delicately decorated with inlaid gold. You took a hot bath completely alone, since Ayato wanted to give you some privacy and time to trust him. His servants offered you soft silk clothing to change into once you got out and you accepted it gracefully. That night, he held you close to his body with his strong arms, cuddling you until you retreated to the depths of sleep.

Months passed since then. You just kept getting closer and falling more in love with each other. Eventually, the night came that Ayato had planned for long in advance.

“Come here, love” Ayato’s deep voice called out for you as he patted his lap while he sat on the bed. Since the beginning, you were completely obedient to him. It was obvious that you had fallen for the commissioner and now you couldn't be more happy to be his wife. The lingerie that he had specially made for you hugged and accentuated all your curves just right as you walked towards the bed.

~NSFW PAST THIS POINT~

Sitting on his lap, you moved sensually at his touches, feeling his hardness. You shared passionate kisses and you moved against his hips, back and forth. You could almost hold the desire you had for each other in your hands.

“Yes, just like that” Ayato’s lips pecked your neck with wet kisses, earning gasps from you. Your hands went to the base of his neck, holding his silky hair to get more support. You softly moaned when he found a soft spot. His mouth sucked the skin of your breast, leaving marks that would take a long time to fade.

“Ayato” You choked out. “Please. Don't stop…” The devotion in your voice made his heart flutter and sent warm feelings all over his body. He toyed a little with your breasts before switching places with you. Now he was the one on top, tracing kisses all along your body, taking his time to make sure you felt thoroughly safe and loved.

“Soon there will be an heir in here” He said with a kiss to your stomach. “I'll make sure you leave this bed with a baby or not at all.” Ayato spoke still sweetly, pure love and lust in his soft eyes.

His slim fingers move to play with you through your thin underwear, your arousal making the cloth wet.

“So wet for me, love...So obedient...I knew you would be the right one ever since the beginning.” He praised you, sliding one finger in with ease as you relaxed for him.

“Mmmh...yes” You pleaded for more as the clothes you were wearing slowly left your body. He took his time exploring you, feeling every crevice you had. Soon after, he added another finger. His movements making your back arch in pleasure and you felt the tension in your stomach grow, begging to be released like an animal from us confines. He used the soft pads of his fingers to reach your soft spot, only bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Ayato, please. Please let me have just this one” You managed to say between waves of pleasure.

“Go ahead. For me, my queen…” His soft voice made the knot in your stomach snap, making your walls pulse. The pulse vanished after a few seconds, leaving behind only pure endorphins running through your veins. Ayato entered you soon after letting you enjoy your first high of the night. It was as if you two were made for each other. His size made you gasp, but his soft eyes reassured you that he wouldn't hurt you in any way.

“I'm here, my love. I promise I will make you feel good.” You gave in, nails lightly scratching his back. After some seconds, his hips started moving against yours at a steady pace. It was hard to stay still with him almost reaching your cervix with every thrust. You moaned his name as you felt another high getting closer to you, your legs enlacing at his waist to gain a closer contact. A sheen of sweat covered both of your bodies as you felt your souls binding more and more with every passing second.

After a few more minutes, Ayato reached his climax, pupils dilating and hands gripping your hips so hard you knew that there would be marks in a short time.

“Ah! ‘Yato it hurts.” You gasped. His eyes that once harbored desire were now full of concern.

“I'm sorry, my love. I will be more careful. Your body is fragile compared to mine and I mustn’t forget that.” He kissed your forehead delicately, still inside you as a way to keep all of his hard work where he wanted it.

He gave you some time to recover before changing positions, with you now riding him.

“Love, I'm exhausted. I can barely move.” You whispered.

“I will help you then.” His strong hands now gripping your hips carefully, guiding your movements. You were a mess above him, the overstimulation leaving you feeling weak. However, your love and devotion for each other was stronger. You spent the whole night sharing your love and savoring every moment. At the end of it all, you could barely walk. Your whole body was completely worn out and weak. Ayato was by your side looking at you worried.

“Did I push you too far, dearest?”

“No, I'm fine. I just can't feel my legs.”

Both of you burst out in laughter

“Oh my queen, that's the price of carrying an heir.”

You were sure your child was forming as you spoke, but your mind only wanted a hot bath and a whole day of sleep.

“Thank you y/n. I looked after you not only for our child, but also to have you as mine forever.”

“The honor is all mine, Ayato.” You whispered, before being carried bridal-style to his bathtub to clean up and then retreat to sleep.

[suth-sardian]

the one with the perfectly steady hands: Qataqenthe

[aggieharkness]

I have a request for Agatha. So you know how Agatha is always the top what if R was top I would absolutely die of happiness to see one where R tops Agatha and she doesn’t really know how to reasons to her cause she hasn’t ever been topped before.

Thristy for more than blood (Part 3) (Agatha x reader)

Summary: You and Agatha have been arrested and taken to SWORD headquarters to kill you both, but once free you have a lot of lost time to make up for and Agatha can be very persuasive.

Subsummary: finally you decide to turn the tables and let Agatha have a taste of her own medicine.

a/n: I hope you like what I wrote but if it's not what you had in mind or there's something you don't quite like tell me and I'll change it or write you something else, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)) Part 1 and part 2 of this series can be found here.

warnings: smut, blood, public sex, dom/sub situation.

Thristy for more than blood

It was an absolute treat whenever Agatha decided to attend to her magical but dangerous garden. Yeah, the plants were pretty and all that but you didn’t give a crap about them, your eyes were far more interested in the way she would kneel and bend to take care of the soil or to pluck weeds out; it put all those yoga teachers out there to shame. On this clear spring morning she had woken up thinking that today would be a great day to work on her Belladonna and Poison Ivy but she had conveniently forgotten to tell you that before she had left the bedroom, so when you walked down to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee your eyes opened wide at the sight. Endless white creamy skin reached your vision from where she was kneeling over a rug, her bottom raised to the air as the upper part of her body was lost in between the leaves of her extremely overgrown plants and a translucent purple mist to protect herself from getting rashes. It wouldn’t be as scandalous as it was if it weren’t for the garments she was wearing. Anything Agatha wore looked exquisite, clinging to her body just in the right places, leaving nothing to the imagination when the occasion called for it, so it wouldn’t have been quite as hot if she had worn her usual black leggings; it always sculpted her ass in the most wonderful way, round and hard almost as if it was fighting to be set free, but no, today she had chosen to wear shorts, and not the basketball player sort of shorts, that wouldn’t be as fun; what she had picked up this morning looked more like underwear than something someone would wear to go to the mall, not that you were complaining, the amount flesh escaping from the jeans was enough to make you forget about coffee, entranced by the way the sun reflected on her skin making it glow. 

There had always been something about her legs, even after centuries of you two being together the sight of her pale flesh that never seemed to end woke up a hunger that you most certainly weren’t going to keep to yourself. When you got up the first thing you had picked up to cover your naked body had been Agatha’s forgotten clothes from the night before,her purple shirt that sometimes you used for sleeping, with just your panties underneath and hair wrapped high up in a bun, the perfect look for your very ungodly intentions. Heading for the garden through the kitchen door you heard soft humming coming from the woman, her ass moving softly from side to side along with the music. You were definitely getting her more of those shorts. As you got closer you saw that her t-shirt had been discarded and was resting beside her bare feet which of course made you realise she might either be wearing nothing waist up or she might be in one of those extremely tiny lace bras that she was so fond of, either way you weren’t going to complain. Her lavender perfume mixed with that of the magical flowers around her, but your nose picked up the spicy scent of her essence, her magic. The sun that came through the leaves created patterns over her skin as they moved with the breeze, making Agatha's body respond by spreading a soft pink tint over her knees and elbows along with goosebumps that followed the line of her spine. The power emanating from her was grandiose, controlled, careful in all her movements and you could feel it deep in your veins calling out for you. And you weren't one to disappoint.

The grasp of your hands on her hips was strong, slightly painful if Agatha wanted to encourage you to go on but it wasn't hurting her by any means. She had sensed your own power as soon as you had stepped into the garden, a smile painting her lips as she plucked daisies out of the bed in which her Belladonna's grew, her covered chest brushing over the soil ever so slightly. When she felt your hands on her body it responded with a quiet biting of her lower lip although you couldn’t see it. She wanted to get this done before full spring came but your skillful movements were proving to be a most exciting distraction and she couldn't really find a reason why she shouldn't indulge you a bit so she slowly came out of her hiding spot revealing her smooth back to you were her dark long hair rested in soft locks. When her head turned to look at you over her shoulder you came face to face with her flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. There wasn't anything more beautiful in the world to you. 

-Finally up I see. Find anything interesting in the waistband of my jeans, pumpkin?

-Quite an interesting garment. Doesn't leave much to the imagination, now, does it?

-That's the whole point. - your fingers travelled at a torturously slow pace down her sides towards her butt where her body was trying to escape from the shorts, feeling her firm ass underneath your palms as you kneaded it gently. The movements of your hands were rewarded by a quiet moan that escaped her cherry lips before she could stop it, holding your gaze in a taunting manner. - Learned new tricks, have we?

-One has to innovate Aggie, we can't have a boring sex life. 

-I can assure you that it's impossible to be bored with you. - with a flick of her fingers you were laid over the plucked bed of daisies, purple threads of magic holding you down lazily in place. - All your tricks light me on fire, baby, the way your hips move when we are out, - she crawled around to face you properly giving you a magnificent view of her flushed chest heaving under her tight bra, small bits of dirt still clinging to her skin. The way she moved towards you left your mouth dry but made another set of lips extremely wet, her eyes devouring your body; even without touching you your body felt as if it was about to burst into flames. Her hands made way for her swaying hips until she was hovering over you, her body lowering to press her mouth to your ear, her chest resting over yours over the shirt that you were wearing. - the way I can make you scream into the night. I can do it over and over until your body's so numb you can't even feel my tongue licking you.

She always knew how to turn you on without even touching you, her voice husky and low, as dangerous as she always was, but as much as you wanted to treat yourself you still owed her an earth shattering experience just like the one she had given you last night. The only tinsy winsy little problem that no one could fix was the fact that she had magic and you didn't. With a twist of her wrist, a snap of her fingers even with the smallest movement of hand she could do anything she wanted to you and it just wouldn't do; she liked to always be in control and when she let you handle things there was always some sort of percentage that she still held some dominance over. In other words you had never fucked her, she always let you fuck her but oh boy, that was about to change. Your hands that had previously been pressed against the flowers were pushing Agatha's arms away, an idea popping into your head.

-Wait a minute, Ags, I need to pee first, I'll be right back. - there was a shadow of doubt in her eyes but she didn't question you, just moved aside to let you up. 

As fast as your legs could run you practically slid into the bathroom but not to do what she thought you were doing, your hand shot towards your makeup bag to grab your liquid eyeliner. The black ink stained your skin as you began to draw runes all over your body: behind your ears, on your armpits, the back of your knees, anywhere really that you knew she would not find or see straight away but wouldn't be able to get rid of. She should thank whoever invented waterproof and smudge proof makeup. As you finished the last one underneath your right boob you threw the eyeliner back into the bag and rushed back out. She had barely moved from her spot, dawning on you when you saw her still very flushed skin that you had done it all at superspeed and had probably taken no more than a few seconds. As soon as her eyes fell on your form again her hand waved, thin strands of purplish magic floating in between her fingers, but this time the puff of her magic dissipated around you without the slightest effect on you. You took the opportunity to jump over her, sending her body backwards into the fresh soil she had just attended to, both hands trapped under your super strength. All she did was raise an eyebrow in a questioning manner narrowing her eyes.

-Do you think you are the only one with tricks up her sleeve? - now that she was secured underneath you by the strength of your hips pressed against hers as you straddled her your hands travelled to your shirt. With each button that you unhooked her eyes became darker, pupils dilating so much her baby blue was barely visible, fingertips brushing over the garment you were wearing as the last button came undone. Her hands shot towards you to push it off your shoulders to reveal what was underneath but you quickly pressed her arms against the soil bending to put your mouth against her ear, shirt hanging open only letting some of your cleavage through. - I'm in charge now. 

-We'll see about that. - another puff of purple mist  came and went, your body still strandling hers completely unbothered. - Why isn't it working? You are not a witch, you can't cast protective spells non verbally.

-I'm following your teachings, buttercup.

-Stealing my words?

-I'm going to steal more than just a nickname. - returning to a sitting position you let the garment slide off your body before tossing it to the side. Her eyes devoured you now that your firm breasts were out for her to see but a little black thing just above your collarbone caught Agatha's eyes and upon closer inspection when you lowered your body again she connected the dots.

-You little shit.

-Ah ah ah, language Aggie. You have a very bad habit of teaching runes to every living thing.

-Not all of them are mine, you've been snooping in my books.

-Obviously, and the best part is that you can't do anything about it. I'm in control now, so relax and enjoy the ride.

Your tongue made contact with that sweet spot behind her ear sending shivers down her spine but she refused to let out a sound. Never in her life had she ever been a bottom, always a top and she wasn’t very pleased with the fact that you were using her own area of expertise against her to do what you pleased; without magic you were the most powerful being in the relationship. Your kisses followed to her pulse point feeling the rush of blood through her veins as each beat of her heart made contact with your tongue leaving a tingling sensation. Sensitive thin skin protected her jugular from the world; she knew perfectly well you could just bite your fangs into her and suck each droplet of that delicious metallic liquid that gave her life but you very much preferred to feel the rush of it hearing the speed of her heart as you played her like a musical instrument drinking each noise, each little motion as if it were water. Sucking softly you finally drew a quiet moan out of her, smiling against her flesh encouraging you to suck harder, brushing her skin with your fangs leaving two deep red marks. Agatha squirmed underneath you to try and get some sort of control over you but the tender purple magic simply crawled lazily around you, she couldn’t even read your thoughts, she was completely clueless as to what your next move would be and it unsettled her. The tension on her muscles was hard not to notice and made you think about whether to give her what she wanted or what she needed. Her eyes locked with yours when you rose to stare at her seeing that condescending veil cross them before returning to her previous aroused state. She really thought she was in any sort of position to get mad at you for forcing her to enjoy herself, it made your blood boil; the nerve of this woman. Your hands practically slammed her arms against the floor earning a pained growl mixed with pleasure, your face barely a few inches away from hers.

-Such an ungrateful little witch. You think you can do as you please? You are mine and I’m going to make sure you don’t forget that I know how to play as well.

She was taken aback by this show of power from your part but for once since she had woken up that morning she was actually looking forward to this new side of you, her previous doubts and need for control forgotten in the back of her head at the sight of your glowing eyes barely a few inches from her. Your mouth crashed against hers unceremoniously bruising and biting at her cherry lips forcing her to open her mouth granting your tongue access. It was hard to breathe but her mind was completely focused on the way you felt against her, the taste of the chocolate cookie she had left in your nightstand still on your tongue intoxicating her senses. When you finally broke the kiss her gasps for air were loud but you didn’t give her time to take a proper breath before your mouth attacked the flesh of her neck sucking hard making sure to leave bruises and angry red marks. In between the scents of the Belladonna and daisies something musky and sweet caught your attention. One of your hands let go of her, travelling down her side purposely brushing against her breast before you found the waistband of those devilish shorts but you didn’t follow the path Agatha had hoped you would do, no, your fingertips caressed the fabric as it went lower until it felt a damp spot just in between her legs. So wet just for you and you had barely started. The palm of your hand was pressed against that exact spot making her buckle her hips but you quickly pulled it away returning to the trail of kisses that you had been delivering all over her chest. What you were doing to her could be considered old fanshioned torture, but hell, what a way to go she thought as your lips found the fabric of her bra, nipples hard underneath the black lace. She didn’t notice, her eyes were too focused on what you were doing, but with each kiss, each brushing of your fangs over her skin a whine or a moan would escape her throat, growing more urgent and demanding as your actions became slower, teasing. 

When your mouth made contact with her breast the ungodly sound that she made brought a new rush of accomplishment and raw arousal through your body but you ignored the latter and carried on sucking and playing with the peak twirling it around your tongue through the fabric. The way the garment felt against it along with what you were doing with your mouth was heavenly, and when she went to move her hands towards your head she found that they were still trapped in that iron grip of yours. It was frustrating and she didn’t bother to keep quiet about it, mixing a new rush of pleasure with the wine of disappointment. Such arrogance couldn’t be rewarded, she had to learn to lay back and relax, let things come her way, so with certain reluctance you let go of her nipple with a dull pop sound and sat back to look at her, flesh red and bruised where you had done your masterpieces, chest heavy and flushed along with her cheeks, and all for you. The trees above you provided enough shade not to fully set Agatha on fire out of arousal and frustration, she needed to get things going at a faster rate, to get in charge but it was no use. Blue eyes dared to hold your gaze as if challenging you to do your worst, to give her a weak moment so she could turn the tables but you were smarter than that and played with a card that she wasn’t thinking about. You knew Agatha, her weaknesses and her strengths and knew perfectly well when she was planning something. A rush of anger made you raise your hand not really knowing what was going on until you felt the back of it collide with the soft skin of her cheek, a surprised yelp escaping her lips. You bent over her frame pressing your fingers against her throat, words dangerous filled with power coming out of your mouth. 

-You think you have the right to complain, I am your master, I’m in control of you and you will do anything I say. - she could still breath but the way your slender hand pressed against her sensitive flesh was driving her insane. This whole dom situation was starting to grow on her. - Who is in charge? Say it.

-You are.

-Louder.

-You are! You control me!

Pleased beyond belief she was rewarded by a rough kiss that was planted on her lips both your hands letting go of her arms pressing your palms on her still covered breasts. You fondled them as if they were cushions listening to her yelps of pain and pleasure against your mouth. This whole foreplay situation was starting to bore you, the need to feel more of her, to see more of her was becoming torturous to you instead of her. Without much thought the kiss was broken and your hands ripped the bra apart finally freeing her gorgeous bosom to the spring air around you. She would complain later that this was her favourite bra and all that but right now neither of you gave shit, your thumbs rolling around her stiff peaks drowning in the sounds Agatha was making. In the back of your head there was the question of what if someone happened to come by and see you both like this, staring at your bodies as you gave your wife all the pleasure in the world. It actually made you work harder instead of shying you away, if there was indeed someone out there in the woods hearing the moans and screams that were coming from her then you might as well accomplish two things; give them a show and make her come harder than ever before. Your mouth kissed softly just above her right breast before taking her nipple in your mouth, biting and sucking, your other hand kneading the other one, delivering a long lick over her sternum when you finally decided to head down. 

The waistband of her shorts came in contact with your chin when you finished trailing kisses over her abdomen, long nails scratching her flesh leaving red lines over the pale skin. By then Agatha had stopped fighting you and simply laid there waiting to see what you were going to do next, feeling everything a thousand times enhanced by her magic now that she didn’t have to waste energy holding you in place or using it to fuck you until you laid unconcious. With one sharp motion the shorts were pulled down and thrown aside presenting her fully naked to your eyes, lips swollen and dripping wet, her juices glistening in the sunlight. She bent her knees to grant you a better view, an evil smirk on her lips. Oh, so she thought she was getting you to do just what she wanted, she truly believed she held the power again? Your hand was pressed against her throat sending her back against the soil to lie down, a shadow of fear crossing her eyes ever so briefly, but you knew her better than she knew herself, and it was all a show to get you to pull her up. Your other hand traced slow circles on her thighs moving to the inner part at the pace of a snail until your fingertips found her heated cunt begging you to touch it. Unconsciously she buckled her hips to find some sort of release but the tightening of your hand around her throat served as a warning to stay still. Her juices coated your fingers when they made contact with her lips, spreading her folds apart, exploring every inch you could hearing how her moans were becoming more guttural and deep. Without permission or warning two fingers dipped inside her, a scream tearing its way out of her, but it only made you move them faster, deeper and harder, curving them just so to hit that sweet spot inside her; her eyes rolled to the back of her head at the sudden wave of pleasure, returning to stare at you after a second.

This was a race to see who could maintain the composure longer, but then again you were knuckles deep inside Agatha and she was only grabbing and scratching onto the soil underneath her. Two fingers became three, her moans switching to screams at your increased speed causing black and white spots to begin appearing in her vision, that tightness in her lower belly becoming bigger by the second. Your body bent towards her, the speed never faltering, until your mouth was an inch away from her ear but what you were going to say was cut by her quiet words that took you aback. “Bite me” it wasn’t much of a request, it was an order and one you loved to comply with whenever she wanted. Your fangs sank deep into the skin of her shoulder, the metallic taste of her blood assaulting your senses as you drank drop by drop. She was two seconds away from letting go, the pain and the pleasure a killer mix that she couldn’t get enough of. “Cum for me, Agatha'' the instant those words reached her brain she exploded like fireworks, a white hot fire spreading all over her body as she came, walls contracting around your fingers coating your hand in her juices, back arching of the floor with a loud powerful scream, but you weren’t done yet. She whined when your fingers left her body feeling empty, but much to her surprise the hand on her throat didn’t move, the grasp only became harder as your fingers were exchanged for that skilful tongue of yours. She hadn’t even come down from her high when she felt your mouth on her pussy licking her clean from the mess she had created, tongue playing with her folds until it grew tired and searched for her clit, finding it wollen and needy. One suck, then another and some playful grazing of your teeth over it and she was screaming for the second time, another orgasm claiming her but you didn’t stop, your movements only became faster until you felt her tensing underneath you for the third time, pushing your fingers inside her at superspeed as deep as they could go. 

She felt as if she was floating in the centre of the universe as her third orgasm washed over her and instead of hearing that primal scream, her mouth opened in a big O the force of the pleasure having stolen her ability to speak, back arching off the floor until she was almost sitting with her thighs trapping you in between her legs, tongue still circling her clit and fingers pumping in and out of her. You had expected her to take a bit more time to come to be honest, but that game of dominance you were playing had her on the edge since you had pressed her against the floor the first time, it had aroused her more than that time you had opened the door completely naked with a dildo deep inside you and that time the sex had been amazing, but today the way her mind was completely gone from this plane of exixstance as you helped her ride her orgasm was something she had never experienced in her life, and there had been extremely good ones over the centuries. She slumped back onto the soil completely spent her body still twitching every once in a while with her eyes completely closed focusing on the way her limbs felt like melted butter. She hadn’t even noticed that your fingers weren’t inside her any more nor that you were kneeling in between her legs looking at her completely cherry red body with her chest rising and falling in quick breaths. Both of you spent nearly five minutes like this until Agatha was able to open her eyes, her baby blue glistening with a veil of pleasure that refused to leave her yet. You took the opportunity to run a single finger between her folds watching as she shivered from overstimulation following it in the air until it was placed inside your mouth sucking the sweet taste of her.

-Someone has been eating pineapple.

-I had a bowl of fruit before you came down. Like it?

-Love it. Want to try? - bending over her frame your lips connected with hers in a gentle kiss, a moan at tasting herself escaping her lips revervariting into your mouth. - Well, some feedback would be great, flower.

-I’m never topping you again, but I do think I’m going to have to hide your eyeliner so you don’t use my teachings against me, although I must admit that I wasn’t expecting to see runes all over your body.

-I could get them tattooed if you’d like.

-No, I prefer to have you at the mercy of my powers.

-Who’s at the mercy of who, eh? Watch your mouth Harkness, you are still underneath me and I won’t hesitate to get the handcuffs or the chains if necessary.

-Bullshit.

-Want to bet? - this time it was Agatha who initiated the kiss but you didn’t mind, by the smell of her she was still leaking juices onto the soil fertilising the flowers underneath

[violettelueur]

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI || YOU AND ME. TOGETHER.

| featuring : fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors and mention of death

| form : imagine

| word count : 2393

| published : 18 november

| request : Hi can I request where you come back from a particularly hard mission and Megumi finds you and tries to comfort you even though you try to hide it

| barista’s notes : lowkey, i feel like i went off on a little tangent on this one due to the amount of words i have written for this imagine ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ i think this is the most i’ve ever written for one tbh ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ overall, i hope you love you cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request) and please order something again when the cafe reopens!

Walking through the entrance of Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College after a long few months away made you extremely relieved that you were finally back home, away from any responsibilities that were waiting for you on the outside - probably only to set as a few missions for you later on during the weeks to come.

The atmosphere that surrounded you was nothing but tranquil, letting you begin to relax your body as you slowly began to lower your guard. Looking up towards the sky, you leisurely closed your eyes to let the soft sun rays hit your face, giving it a natural glow as you took in the nature that was gently letting you into its embrace welcoming you back to where you belong. To say that you missed Japan was an understatement, but rather you were desperate to get back.

However, the beautiful sounds of the chirping birds and the wind that was calming the world around you was suddenly interrupted once you heard some shouting from the other side of the school, causing the same birds to suddenly fly away in a panic from the loud sound that was emitted across the whole area.

Looking towards the direction of the sound, you just stood there shocked as you didn’t expect this type of event to occur so sudden, but you weren’t surprised that it had happened since this was your school you were talking about. Taking a deep breath, you forced your feet to move towards the direction of the sound, hoping to see anyone that you could confide in right now.

                                    ꕥ

After a few minutes, you had suddenly found yourself standing at the top of the stairs to which lead to the school track field, only to see the amusing site of Panda swing around a female student to which you assumed to be one of the new first years that Fushiguro was talking about to you on your last video call with him. 

“Oh Y/N over here!” someone shouted, causing you to turn to the right to see Maki waving at you with a smile on her face to which you then averted your eyes to see Fushiguro standing next to her with a wooden pole in hand.

Giving them a weak smile, you waved back at them before carefully making your way down the stairs to them, trying not to clumsily fall down in front of them as you didn’t want to worry both of them with your current state.

Just as you were about to say your greetings to them, you suddenly heard someone shouting from the middle of the field, causing you to turn towards whoever cut you off. “Fushiguro! Trade places with me! This uniform is a pain! I’m gonna go buy a cute tracksuit!” the female student shouted before she was lightly flung into the air only for her to suddenly drop to the ground in front of you. 

Looking down at the body in shock, you looked back up to see Panda walking towards you with the bright grin that could brighten up anyone’s day - well you wish it could for you right now - “Panda senpai, what are you two doing?” you asked in a confused tone, as you tilted your head to the side as if that was going to help answer your question.“These guys are weak in close combat,” Panda answered, causing you to come to the conclusion that he was trying to teach the student how to land on her feet. On the other hand, you didn’t realise Panda was looking down somewhere, causing you to follow his gaze to see that he was looking at the white bag you were holding.

‘How could I forget that I was holding it?’ you thought to yourself, coming to the fact that the mission you came back from must have affected you more than you thought.

“Did you bring gifts again Y/N?” Panda asked as he tried to get a little peak on the contents inside the paper bag, leaving you no choice but to take out his gift. 

During your time as a Jujutsu High student, you were known to go on a couple of foreign mission due to your talent in languages and that caused you to be one of the main jujutsu sorcerers to be chosen to be sent on some of these missions - so you always made sure to grab some souvenirs for your friends as they didn’t really have the chance to travel abroad as you did.

“Is this what you are trying to look for?” you playfully asked in the best way you could muster, as you lifted up a pair of knuckle bracers in front of panda’s eyes, leading them to have a little shine in them before he took them out of your grasp while thanking you for the gift. “And I assume the girl you threw on the ground was Kugisaki,” you stated, causing the girl to shoot up on her feet once she heard you state her name.

“You know who I am?” Kugisaki asked with widened eyes as she pointed at herself, causing you to lightly nod before going back into your bag to pull out a case of gold nails before handing it to her. “I heard that you used a straw doll technique, so I thought I would get these nails for you, these types are thinner but sturdier so if you infuse them with your curse energy they’ll accelerate at a faster rate than your original nails but also give a more deadly impact, they are also flammable but they won’t melt so they can act like mini fire arrows if you wish,” you explained to her as her eyes glowed in pure happiness before she crushed you into a hug, thanking you with tears in her eyes, causing both Fushiguro and Maki to walked towards you all as they wondered what was going on.

“Y/N how was the mission back in London?” Maki casually asked as she heard nothing from you for the past few weeks before you came back. However, for some reason that question caused you to stiffen up as you remembered all the unexpected events that had happened before you came back. Kugisaki noticed this change in posture causing her to unwrap her arms from your body and look at you with worried eyes.

“Y/N right? Are you okay? You got stiff for a second,” the oranged-haired sorcerer asked you, causing you to snap out of your sudden thoughts and nod at her with a small smile. “Yeah sorry, I guess I’m just a bit out of it lately, the mission was a little harder than expected but nothing too hard for me,” you commented, hoping that what you said was enough for them to not get suspicious.

Everyone, of course, believed you, once they saw a smile on your face they thought you were just tired from your flight - you did just get back from London after all. However, one person wasn’t buying your little act for even a second, causing him to come a bit closer to you and place his hand on your lower back as he saw you were gradually losing your balance, surprising you completely which caused you to turn to look at the green-eyed sorcerer.

“You okay Megumi?” you asked, wondering what was with the sudden physical contact, knowing he didn’t usually display his affection to you in public at all.

“Come on Y/N, your boyfriend hasn’t seen you in like months, he’s probably touched starved,” Maki slyly stated, causing Fushiguro to look at her with an annoyed expression while Kugisaki looked at both of you with widening eyes - shocked at the sudden news that was presented at her.

“YOU TWO ARE DATING!” Kugisaki shouted, causing you and Fushiguro to look at her before nodding like it was a casual thing. “How can that guy get a girlfriend before I can even get a boyfriend?” Kugisaki then asked herself, leading Fushiguro enough time to grab your hand and guide you somewhere away from the crowd.

Confused, you decided to just let Fushiguro guide you to wherever he wanted for the both of you to go, only to have him sit on the bottom stairs before patting the other side, indicating for you to sit next to him. Without hesitation, you sat next to him and placed the bag on the ground as you waited for your boyfriend to say what was on his mind.

“You okay?” he asked in a quiet tone as he side glanced at you, only to see you aimlessly stare at the grass below your feet. However, just like a robot, you automatically smiled and nodded at his question, “yeah I’m okay Mimi,”. However, once again Fushiguro wasn’t falling for your act as he got up and kneeled right in front of you.

Taking one of your hands, he enveloped yours with both of his making you wonder if you were the one that was really touch starved - as feeling his skin against yours caused you to realise how much you missed touching him making you take a mental note not to take his constant presence for granted - “did something happen during the mission?” Fushiguro then asked in a worried tone, as you didn’t seem as bright as you did when he last talked to you.

You looked tired. Extremely tired. Pale. Weakened. You just looked like you were completely the opposite compared to when you left for the mission.

“It’s just….” you started before closing your mouth, not knowing what to say next. You were used to the concept of death and losing comrades, so why did it affect you this much this time? Was it because you got to go home without worrying your friends? Was it because you left the families behind to weep for their deceased loved ones? Was it because you felt guilty for being the only one that survived? Was it because you felt responsible?

Slowly, you lifted your other hand and placed it over his ones that were still held on to the other. Yes, you were right, you were the one that was touched starved, there was no doubt about that at all. The feeling of his skin on the pads of your fingers made you feel alive even when you felt the opposite.

The mission was extremely harder than you had expected. The higher-ups back in London had given all the shamans the wrong information for the last task causing you and the other sorcerers to fall into something that was potentially your signed death warrant. Yet somehow you were the only one left standing after the whole ordeal with bodies surrounding you in massive numbers, even with the back up it still wasn’t enough. 

You felt guilty. Even though it wasn’t your fault. You felt like you were the guilty one. Even those you weren’t friends with many of them, they still had someone to go home to like you. If only you could have saved them. If only you could have reached them on time. If only you were aware of what was going on. Maybe. Maybe you could have…

Unexpectedly, you suddenly felt a loss of warmth from your hands, before you felt him using both of his hands to cradle your face using the pad of his thumbs to caress your cheeks, as he then gave you a light kiss on the forehead.

This little act of his caused you to desperately reach for his blue jacket and grip onto the material to try to release some of the emotions that have been building up. Gently, Fushiguro wiped the tears that fell down your face as they betrayed you when you didn’t even realise, causing you to bury your head into his chest to hide away from the world to which he then placed his arms around your body while patting your head to comfort you.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Fushiguro whispered to you, even though he didn’t know what made you become like this. Even since both of you became acquainted with each other, he quickly learnt that you took everything to blame and when both of you started dating, he realised how much you would truly blame yourself. You were mentally strong, he knew that you were able to control your state of mind like it was nothing. It was just the aftereffect of taking so much that worries him completely. And this was the result of this.

“All of them are dead Mimi, they…” you muttered causing him to hold you even tightly like a weighted blanket. “If the higher-ups didn’t give us the wrong details, they could have gone back home…..back to their families,” you continued as you tighten the grip of his jacket. “And here I am the only one that gets to come back to you guys…..I….I should have died with them”

Fushiguro’s eyes widened in horror on what you had just announced, he never thought you would say something that extreme. He couldn’t even reply to what you say, only having the ability to tighten his grip on you as if you weren’t already close enough. First Itadori, now you. Fushiguro understood why Gojo never really listened to any of the higher-ups, this is what they caused. Pain.

“None of this was any of your fault Y/N,” Fushiguro stated as he used the hand that was patting your head to now brush through your hair. “I know you tried your best, I know you did. You’ll get through this, you got me and everyone here around you,” Fushiguro continued as he tried to distract you from your dreadful thoughts. “We’ll get stronger together. You and me. Together” he stated before placing a kiss on the crown of your head like it was a spell that could cast away all the fearful thoughts that were swimming in your head.

And it somehow worked.

Releasing the grip on his jacket, you then wrapped your arms around his neck as you moved your head so that you could rest it upon his shoulder - still hiding your face away from everyone - pulling him closer (if you still could at this point).

“Yeah. You and me. Together Mimi”

[thephantomessoftheopera]

Notes on Gaston Leroux‘s „The Phantom of the Opera“ - Chapter 27: „End of the Ghost‘s Love Story“

Artwork by @flaviamarquesart

<< Previous chapter

“End of the Ghost’s Love Story” is the most powerful chapter in the novel, because it reveals the full extent of Erik’s love for Christine. It is also the one that makes the story truly extraordinary, because it redeems his character and lifts him above the level of a gothic villain, who is usually defeated and punished in the end. This is why he is generally considered a “Byronic Hero” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byronic_hero). The Byronic hero is a complex, often tragic form of romantic anti-hero who is generally more villain than traditional hero, but who has at least one redeeming quality (usually connected to love) which makes him a sympathetic figure despite his flaws and/or crimes. The character type was created by the English poet Lord Byron in his works such as “The Corsair” and “Don Juan”, and became extremely popular in the 19th century. Except for his looks, Erik fits that classic character type in almost all other aspects (highly intelligent, tortured, violent, ruthless, manipulative and driven by an all-consuming passion).

The chapter’s title also makes it clear that the whole thing is a love story at its core - everything in the novel happened because Erik fell in love with Christine. It is, and has always been, the story of Erik’s love - he is the one character we follow up until the end.

The final chapter is narrated by Leroux again, but it draws on what the Persian supposedly told him when he went to visit him in his flat in the rue de Rivoli. When the Persian wakes up after losing consciousness in the water, he and Raoul are resting in the Louis-Philippe room, and Erik and Christine are taking care of them. Raoul has already woken up before the Persian, and is now asleep again.

The room itself astounds the Persian in how ordinary and old-fashioned it looks, and how much it contrasts with Erik’s general appearance (remember that the Persian had never been in Erik’s house before). Erik explains to him that the furniture once belonged to his mother, which explains why the style is so different from his bedroom, which is decidedly more „Erik“. The Persian also wonders why Christine, who is moving silently through the room and then sitting down beside the fireplace, ignores both Raoul and himself when tries to call her. The Persian believes that Christine is reading “The Imitation of Christ”, which is significant and which I will come back to a little later. The “opposites” theme is also present in this scene again, describing Erik’s figure as black and a demon, and Christine’s as white and an angel. The Persian finally falls asleep again.

When he wakes for the second time, Erik has already delivered him back to his flat according to the promise he made to “his wife”. The Persian immediately sends to find out what happened to Raoul, and learns that Raoul has disappeared and that Philippe’s body has been found on the shore of the lake under the opera house. The Persian has no doubt that Philippe was drowned by Erik (or “the siren”), and decides to denounce him to the police. However, his testimony is ridiculed, and he - like Raoul - is taken for a lunatic. The Persian then decides to write everything down and later hands his manuscript to Leroux (which is what we’ve been reading in these last chapters).

When he has finished writing his account down, Erik comes to visit him. He is clearly unwell and described as weak, leaning against the wall and “pale as a sheet”. The Persian accuses him of murdering Philippe and wants to know what happened to Raoul and Christine, whether they are dead or alive. Erik denies murdering Philippe, but the Persian doesn’t believe him. We don’t really know the truth though, so the “murder mystery” has no definite resolution and turns into more of a side note.

Erik tells the Persian that he is about to “die of love” for Christine. As I’ve mentioned before, I believe that the most likely physical cause of his death would really be the gunshot that Raoul fired at him, and a possible infection following that injury which would lead to his precarious state of health as seen in this chapter. This could metaphorically also be described as “dying of love” (because he wouldn’t have caught that bullet if he hadn’t been in love).

After turning the scorpion, Christine begged him to save Raoul, and she had already offered before to accept his proposal if he gave her the key to the torture chamber, but Erik did not care then, because he did not believe her. But when she swears to him that she will become his “living wife”, it‘s different as he finally sees in her eyes what he has been hoping to see - Christine’s genuine commitment. She means to go through with her promise and is accepting him as her husband at that moment - and this is why her commitment is powerful enough to break through to him.

According to their agreement, Erik takes the Persian aboveground, but since Raoul probably wouldn’t agree to leave, Erik drugs him and locks him up in the dungeon beneath the fifth cellar. Then he returns to Christine, who stands calmly waiting for him. Erik suddenly feels “shyer than a little child” as he approaches Christine, but she does not back away from him. He tenderly kisses her forehead and is overwhelmed with how good it feels to kiss her, as no woman has ever allowed him to, not even his mother. Christine even leans into his touch a little, and remains close to him after the kiss, „as if it were perfectly natural“.

Fear and disgust are very powerful, primal emotions, but Christine‘s feelings for Erik are strong enough to overcome both. Considering that no one, not even the Persian, was able to even look at Erik’s face without horror, I feel that Christine must have cared very deeply for him, as she allows his kiss without fear and without recoiling from him at all, even after everything he has put her through.

He falls at her feet and starts crying of happiness, and seeing his tears, Christine starts to cry as well. Erik tears off his mask so that he won’t lose any of her tears on his skin, and still Christine shows no sign of horror or disgust. And she doesn’t only allow him to touch her, but she also touches him of her own free will and takes his hand, saying “poor, unhappy Erik”. I feel that this is the moment when the full expanse of his life’s tragedy truly hits her. She is not only the first woman, but the first person in his entire life to treat him with tenderness and acceptance.

Gratitude and love for her overwhelm him and make him realize that he has forced her choice. He puts the gold wedding ring into her hand, setting her free and telling her that he knows she loves Raoul and that she is free to go and marry him whenever she pleases. He „calmly cuts his heart to pieces“ and puts her happiness before his own in this final expression of true love and sacrifice. For as damaged as he was, the ending proves that Erik truly loved Christine because his love is ultimately selfless. There is also no bitterness in his feelings towards Christine after she leaves - he has always loved her, and still continues to love her. He still feels protective of her: “I’d better not hear that anyone has touched a single hair on her head!” Christine gave him “all the happiness in the world”, and he is grateful to her for this gift. His love for her redeems him as a character and proves to be his moral compass - before, he considered himself “outside the human race” and therefore not bound by common moral values.

In the previous chapter, Christine is shown reading what the Persian believes to be “The Imitation of Christ”. I don’t think that is a coincidence, and I also believe that the name “Christine” was perhaps even chosen for her on purpose (she was originally named Pauline, according to Leroux’s manuscript). Christine becomes a “Christ figure” here in two ways: through her sacrifice, she saves the lives of Raoul, the Persian and everyone in the Opera. But she also offers acceptance and love to a sinner, an outcast who has been shunned by society - and this is an extremely powerful gesture. She possessed the strength necessary to see Erik as a human being, and that is what sets her apart from everyone else. Her love here transcends the realm of romantic love and becomes almost divine - all-encompassing, forgiving, healing.

Christine may superficially fit the traditional image of a “damsel in distress”, but the would-be hero who was coming to rescue her didn’t get very far, nor could he do anything to save her. The only hero who saved Christine was Christine herself - and she also saved everyone else: Raoul, the Persian, everyone in the Opera, and Erik. Both Christine and Erik show incredible bravery in this chapter: Christine‘s bravery shows in her truly accepting Erik as a man and in saving Raoul, and Erik‘s bravery consists in letting her go, relinquishing his one chance in his life of having everything he has ever dreamed of.

Erik then goes to free Raoul and brings him to Christine, where Raoul and Christine kiss. Christine swears to Erik that she will come back to bury him with the ring, and then she finally kisses him before they leave.

Seeing Erik weeping and overcome with emotion, the Persian no longer doubts him. Erik tells the Persian that when he feels he is close to dying, he will send the letters that Christine had left with him and a few of her personal objects to him, and that this would be the cue for the Persian to put an obituary notice in the newspaper so that Christine and Raoul would know. Interestingly, that entire arrangement hinged on Erik himself announcing his death without anyone confirming it, because he could only mail things to the Persian if he was still alive. This leaves a lot of blank space for the reader’s imagination, because who knows if he really died…? The Persian, at least, never saw him again, but announced three weeks later that “Erik is dead”.

Next chapter >>

[thebadboyfanclub]

She Will Learn (Rio x Reader)

Look I will let y’all in on a little secret, the way this account is going to work is by me seeing your requests, making a mental note to finish them and then getting an idea for another imagine that wasn’t requested but can’t move on until I write it so.... Enjoy!

P.S I chose Greece cause I am from there and I never see us anywhere

(Y/n) had met Rio when she was about to graduate college, a business major that was striving for being the first millionaire in her family. She came from a lower middle class first generation immigrant from Greece, her parents were troopers for successfully raising her and her siblings, they never had things to spare yet they had enough to be respectful.

He saw her at a restaurant, completely overdressed and accessorized like she was dining in France, however she somehow made it look like she didn’t think about what she was going to wear, like this was her natural way of dressing, her nails were done and he noticed how... soft her hands looked. 

What intrigued him was that she was extremely kind to everyone, she smiled brightly at the waiters and she would often reach over to her friends for a touch of encouragement of just a simple caress, she exuded confidence that made you feel like you would never dare to touch her, still she carried herself with elegance and in a graceful manner.

“Excuse me, can you tell me who are the girls at the table over there?”

“Oh they haven’t been here before but I can tell you they are here to celebrate for the girl in the red dress, it’s her birthday”

“Oh is it? Send them a bottle of champagne please”

“Right away Sir”

He was never the flashy type of guy, he never cared for stuff that showed his status or economic achievements, people that had money knew to never flaunt it carelessly. When it came to her, he felt the need to show off, to woo her and catch her eye, she had this sense of luxury, she looked like she took care of herself way too much to let men not treat her anything less than that.

He watched her face switch into surprise when the waiter came with the bottle of champagne, a few seconds after that her gaze went to him, as the waiter pointed towards him and then proceeded to open the bottle of bubbly. 

She had noticed him when she entered for a few moments, although she decided that since it was her big night she wouldn’t waste time gawking at good looking men, she had saved money for months to be able to afford the finest for her big day, every year she wanted her birthday to be like the life she wanted. She send him a smile as her hand went to her heart to show gratitude for the gift. 

Except that didn’t feel like enough, she felt like she could push it a bit more, try her luck just a bit, she looked too good to worry about a man turning her down, he would have to be mad or blind to do so.

She walked to him with the glass of champagne in her hand, giving him the chance to take her in. Her legs were exposed as the dress went to the middle of her thigs, they shined and looked so smooth making him wonder how good would it feel to touch them. She had a figure of a dream, as her hips swayed with every step, her posture was proud and she walked like a supermodel, if he didn’t know the owner he would have thought she was the one that had not just the restaurant, the entire block.

“I don’t think we’ve met, I’m (y/n), I wanted to thank you for the champagne, you really didn’t have to”

“I wanted to darling, I’m Christopher but people call me Rio, how wonderful to meet you”

He said, taking her delicate hand in his and pressing a light kiss on soft skin. He could smell the lotion of vanilla she had chosen to moisturize her skin, settle yet unforgettable. His raspy voice made her flustered, trying to mask it with a smirk and confidence, he was intriguing to her, the cool, calm and collected exterior that suited him so much. 

“I wish I could stay and talk but I don’t like leaving my friends by themselves”

“I understand darling, we’ll be in touch”

-

It had been years since then, he had managed to not only stay in touch with you but make her the queen of his life. She was an asset that he so desperately needed, he trusted her with his life and knew she had the best intentions for him, her loyalty was iron made, her degree came in handy when he needed to handle business in a discreet manner, she was the master mind behind a lot of his negotiations, her brilliance on playing the trophy wife that didn’t know anything in front of others was the secret behind his success. 

She is his secret weapon, so secret that no one knew she even existed, the few that did didn’t even know her name and the people that knew were the most trusted ones that worked with Rio for years, she liked to be under wraps, walking in and out of the building with the men Rio had hire to protect her and the rookies wondered who was she, he only called her with pet names when others were around but they could only address her as “Miss”, she was the miss of the mister and his most trusted soldier. 

Despite that, (y/n) was no fool. She had broken up with Rio and called of the engagement several times, making Rio go wild every time. She wasn’t unreasonable, Rio was out of line a lot of the times, especially when Beth came in the picture, his men feared her just as much as him, maybe even more, so when she found out they had done such major damage multiple times but still took them back in, she would pack her stuff and leave without warning, leaving her ring and a note that wrote “goodbye” behind. That’s when he would hook up with Beth, make up for the loss of his queen, yet when he had manage to convince her to come back and buy her a new ring every time, he felt like he was on top of the world.

“Be honest with me Mick, who did this to him?”

“Everything points in one target, Beth”

“Of course. Thank you Mick, I got him”

She stood by him throughout his healing process, waited patiently until he was back on her feet, took care of his bullet wounds and had many sleepless nights to make sure he was alright. She was his wife to be after all, even kept in contact with Rhea and Marcus, made sure they were alright and taken care of in any way, shape or form.

“Are you ready mama?”

“Almost, can you help me with the necklace”

They were there when Rhea got the call from Beth, acting like there friends even though she caused Rios life and invited her for drinks. Rio knew (y/n) was boiling, wanted to take revenge for what Beth had caused and this time he understood, so they got dressed up to meet her instead of Rhea. 

As Rio approached and took the necklace in his hands he saw it was the necklace he bought her for their one year anniversary, her birth stone surrounded with diamonds. When (y/n) let her hair down he got a whiff of her scent, still making him feel weak in the knees, he got closer to her and wrapped his one arm around her, his lips found the nape of her neck and left light kisses. She closed her eyes for a second to enjoy the feeling of warmth and lust he brought her.

“You look beautiful princess”

“It’s my first time meeting her isn’t it?”

“What have you planned gorgeous?”

“That’s for me to know and for her to find out, let’s go daddy”

She knew exactly who she was. Seeing the back of her head made her want to pull out her gun and blast her right then and there, that wouldn’t be classy now wouldn’t it? She approached the clueless woman and sat on her left side, leaving the right seat empty for Rio to join later. 

“Can I get dirty martini please? Thank you dear”

She instructed the bartender before taking off the faux black fur coat to reveal a   Split Floor-Length Sleeveless Spaghetti Strap Pullover black dress. The first thing Beth noticed about the young woman that sat next to her was the big diamond ring that she wore on her ring finger, mentally thinking of what that girl had done to earn it

‘she probably hasn’t worked a day in her life’ she thought, making herself feel a little bit better, she had to admit that she looked really pretty, the jewelry she had on complimented her skin tone and the dress looked like it was custom made. (Y/n) waited for her drink to arrive before she looked at Beth and got ready to reveal her identity.

“You must be Beth, I don’t believe we’ve officially met. I’m (y/n)”

Beth looked at her puzzled. How did the young woman that looked like she was some old mans pretty young thing to show off knew her. (Y/n) was smiling as she took a sip of her cocktail, knowing damn well that Beth had already made up her mind about what type of woman (y/n) was and completely missing the purpose of this meeting.

“How do you know my name”

“Oh I know everything about you, where you live, the names of your children, your sister Annie and your friend Ruby. Rio has told me all about you”

“Rio? How-”

“I know he doesn’t talk about it, I like to be invisible to the public eye... his secret weapon as some would say. I also know you are waiting for Rhea”

“She ain’t comin”

Beth heard Rio’s voice and her eyes went wide with fear. (Y/n) let out a soft giggle and took one more sip of her drink as Beth turned to look at him like she had seen a ghost, judging by how pale she had gotten she was more of that vibe than he was. 

“Excuse me, can we get a glass of neat whiskey for the gentleman? Thank you so much”

(Y/n) ordered once more before hoping off her chair and joining Rio. He snaked his arm around her and brought her as close to him as he could before placing a kiss on her cheek.

“How you feeling mama?”

“Oh I was just having a chat with Beth”

“A-are y-you”

“His fiancé? Yes, we are planning on getting married on my homeland during the summer, aren’t we daddy?”

(Y/n) started rubbing Rios back as she smiled at him, she was super excited for her wedding, he had given her complete control to do whatever she wanted, it was her big day and he knew better than to object to anything.

“Oh we have to show her something”

Rio reached for his pocket and (Y/n) looked over at Beth who was in the verge of a mental breakdown. Rio pulled out his three bullets that the doctor had pulled out from his body, (y/n) wanted to throw them away but he insisted in keeping them, reminding him how he cheated death. 

“Lung, spline, shoulder”

He put each one down in front of her. Beth had terrible aim and for once (y/n) was thankful that one of their rookies missed the shots. Beth stayed silent, taking in all the information, not only was he alive he also had a woman he was planning to marry, calling him “daddy” right in her face, she looked like she was straight out of a magazine and even thought she was kind to her that terrified her more, her entire life was crumbling in front of her. 

“Now I think you understand that you are in a bit of a jam, Christopher has agreed that I should decide your punishment since he wanted to kill you-”

“Don’t, do that. I’m sorry babydoll, she will learn”

Beth had tried to leave in the middle of (y/n)’s sentence, making Rio grab Beth by the arm and restrain her from doing so. (Y/n) stayed stoic and just watched the scene unravel, she knew Rio would never allow anyone to disrespect her. As Beth sat back down Rio smiled (y/n) before taking her hand once more and placing a kiss on her knuckles. (Y/n) reached for his face and caressed his cheek with her free hand making Beth sick to her stomach, he had never looked at her like that, with such admiration and love.

“It’s alright, I will let it pass this one time”

“Go on mama”

“I feel like it would be too easy to kill you, such an easy way out. So now you will work for me”

“What?”

Beth felt her stomach twist at the statement. Working with (y/n), having to do daily tasks for her, a woman she had no idea even existed an hour ago, now she had work under her and take orders from her directly, for a second she thought that death would be better. (Y/n) left Rio’s side for a second and took Beth by the shoulders, standing right behind her, Beth’s eyes fell on her shinny ring, that only felt like someone was rubbing salt over her wound, he had probably spend a fortune for it. (Y/n) leaned closer to Beth getting next to her ear and causing goosebumps on Beth’s body. 

“Think of it as an assistant or maybe help Rio with anything he needs but mostly you will be on call for anything I need. Since you wanted to outsmart Rio and spit where you eat, I need some help to plan the wedding and also take care of our business. What do you think darling?”

“I think it’s an excellent idea”

Rio was pleasantly surprised. (Y/n) was one of the most intelligent people he knew, bring Beth so close to her and making her work for their wedding even though she knew she had slept with him was a very cruel and mentally humiliating way to punish her. 

She truly was one of the greatest choices he had ever done, no one could compete with her, she held such power that made Rio feel like he could not only trust her but also submit to her, let her take the wheel and not having to worry about anything going wrong. As he watched her look over at Beth there was no comparison, (y/n) had such way of carrying herself, that je ne sais quoi as some would say, she was the embodiment of female divine energy. 

Rio knew that her leaving him all these times was a game of push and pull, making him work for her and a mental slap in the face, yet every time he ran to her like an obedient dog and begged for her to come back and take her spot as his queen in the palace, promised her and gave her everything she wished for, every ring was bigger and better than the one before. It wasn’t like he did it because she wanted it, he was the one that wanted to spoil her, give her everything under the sun, she deserved everything and he was for sure not going to hold back for his sweet little princess.

“And then when all of that is done... Rio can take care of you, I feel like it would bring bad luck to our household if we killed someone before the wedding”

[ri-ahhh]

for the win

After dealing with a lifetime of insecurities, Winnie Walker finally gets the courage to pursue her dreams, with a few bumps along the way. But that confidence may not carry over when it comes to a certain hazel-eyed football player who’s had her attention for much too long.

A/N: this was a random inspo that hit me out of nowhere a while ago and I was gonna make it an epic oneshot, but I think I’ll just break it into parts instead. So, hence, this is part one. Hopefully you like it enough for it to be even worth posting more.

warnings: none yet, other than this is def gonna be as cheesy as you think it is

***

Winnie Walker has always considered herself an enigma. Not in that annoying, ‘I’m so cute and quirky’ type of way, but rather in the way that made her someone who never quite fit into one defined space. The kind perfected by years of self doubt, an emotionally distant mother, and the random ebb and flow of confidences and insecurities that always helps her remember that she is, in fact, perfectly un-extraordinary: her face is too round, but she’s always been called pretty; her personality is dry enough that she finds it challenging making female friends, but she fits in well with the boys; and she has a penchant for being the last one to talk about anything she might be feeling until she puts a pen to paper and speaks through the mouths of others.

Sports and writing were her main passions, but it still took until her senior year of high school to decide that she wanted to be a sports journalist. Not just a journalist, though -- more than anything, she dreamed of stepping out into the light as a broadcaster. Shy by nature but an athlete at heart, it once again put her in that enigmatic grey space where she wasn’t sure what the hell she was thinking.

But it’s what her heart was calling for her to do. For the first time in her life, Winnie Walker felt sure about something despite everyone’s doubts -- including her own. She grew up an athlete, and some of her fondest memories as a child were caught between either being in her dad’s man cave with all of his friends, cheering on their team of choice for whatever sport was on, discussing heatedly what plays should or shouldn’t have taken place. Or, on the volleyball court. 

The full ride offer from USC that was presented but never came to fruition because of a devastating knee injury in one of her last club tournaments haunted Winnie in the months leading up to her high school graduation. 

Her mother, Dahlia, was not-so-secretly thrilled. A stage mother through and through, she had always supported her daughter as she made headway in her sport as a star player, but it was an open point of contention that Winnie planned to follow her passion for it all the way to college. She wanted her middle daughter to attend the local university, get a nice marketing degree, and settle into a high rise in downtown Dallas, where she could point at during brunch with her friends and brag about the pretty penny her kid made with her perfectly nice degree she attained in her perfectly nice hometown. 

That’s not Winnie, though, and everyone except Dahlia knew it. No one was all too surprised that she still wanted to escape to California (again, except her mother), even if they were slightly shocked about her decision for a major. The reactions from her friends and sisters and dad had her even more excited as she scanned the email of her academic acceptance into USC. It finally gave her the courage to spill the beans to her mother as well.

Dahlia Walker very much scoffed in the face of her quiet, introverted, hopeful daughter sitting across the kitchen island while she scrubbed at the dishes from dinner.

“Winona, sweetie, you refused to even speak at your sister’s wedding as the maid of honor, and you want to be on TV? With all those... men?”

Winnie cringed a little bit and rolled her eyes at the slightly far-off look on her mother’s face as she no doubt started imagining the sweaty athletes the reporters would stand next to post-game.

“You don’t think I could do it?” she asked flatly, flicking a chip of her nail polish off her finger so it flew across the otherwise spotless granite — her mom hated when she did that. 

Dahlia’s hands picked up their pace again in the suds, slowed down by whatever middle-aged fantasy was going on in her mind. She shook her head, the highlights in her perfectly styled blonde bob shifting under the recessed lights.

“The girls who do that are just so bouncy. Friendly. They curl their hair.”

Winnie bit her lip. She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. Her body felt deflated. “I knew I could count on you to be supportive.”

“Oh honey, I’m just trying to be realistic with you,” her mother said dismissively. Like she didn’t realize the pang her words caused to spread in Winnie’s chest; it should have been be all-too familiar by then, but the sting was never weakened with age or predictability. “And California? Are you really ready to be so far from home? You hardly ever even leave your room.”

It had taken everything in Winnie to hold back the open scoff she longed to throw at her mother; instead, she just stood up and left the kitchen, along with any childish hope that Dahlia might ever make an effort to really know her middle daughter.

Because anyone that knew Winona Elle Walker could predict just how much she would thrive in California. In the persistent sunshine that never quite reached the peak of being too hot for very long, unlike the nearly six months of 90 and 100-plus degree days of summer she knew so well in Texas. Within close proximity to a beach that didn’t have swamp-colored water washing ashore.

In a place well over a thousand miles away from Dahlia.

And that’s exactly how Winnie found herself in LA: thriving. She made friends easily, enjoyed life on the USC campus while she studied the exact major she had set out for the first day she sat down in her first class -- Navigating News in the Digital Age class -- and it was a relatively cheap flight home if she ever missed it too much. Winnie started feeling less like an enigma, and more like someone whose quirks were becoming more of a benefit to her success than she could have ever imagined.

Now, as a woman in her senior year, nearly 22 and set to graduate in only a few months time, she’s finally up for the most coveted position in her major: being the prime time student reporter at the biggest sporting events of the school’s entire athletic program — the Trojan football games. Reporting at football games was a job always reserved for seniors, and she had been driving her roommate — and best friend in California — Naomi crazy all summer prepping for the spot’s audition.

“Winnie, babe, you know the plays backwards and forwards. You’ve understood more about the rules of football since you were a kid than I’ll ever know as a grown woman. You have all the key players’ and coaches’ names and numbers memorized. You couldn’t be any more prepared,” she smiles, good-natured irritation clear in her eyes and behind the blinding smile that shone from her mocha-colored skin.

It softens some when Winnie stood from the couch, and Naomi reaches over and slaps her retreating ass just hard enough to make Winnie yelp and giggle. “Not to mention those squats are paying off big time, bitch. You’re gonna kill it.”

Winnie rolls her eyes and continues to make her way to the kitchen to refill her wine glass. “The camera won’t see my ass, but thanks.”

Naomi winks. “No. But Grayson Dolan might.”

Grayson Dolan — the walk-on that had stunned everyone when he was thrown into a game his freshman year after two of the starting tight ends had become injured on two consecutive plays. Now a senior himself, he’s led the team ever since in receiving yards, receptions, and TD’s, and is a clear prospect for the NFL in the coming months.

He also happens to be the player Winnie had drunkenly admitted she had a crush on during a girls night last year, and her friends have yet to let her live it down. She had felt ridiculous saying she had a crush as a 21 year-old, but that’s really all it was; he was hot, an extremely talented player, and she barely knew him beyond that one time he had spilled a drink on her at a frat party, and the rather interesting reputation that followed him around campus. There was nothing more to it.

Even if her attraction to him hasn’t died down in the passing time.

Winnie only blushes and pours herself a little extra, blaming the Maison No. 9 when Naomi throws her head back with a cackle and calls out the matching pink in her cheeks.

The morning of her audition, a mere two weeks into her fall semester, Winnie has butterflies fluttering madly in the pit of her belly. Her truer nature of being somewhat shy and timid in these situations has never left, always flaring up in moments of self-doubt and unpredictability. Undoubtedly, however, this audition deserves all the nerves; it’s a clear stepping stone into network broadcasting, and would almost guarantee her a spot as an intern at FOX Sports next semester.

She stares at herself in the mirror for a moment, silently urging herself to get her shit together, and takes a deep breath before eyeing Naomi’s curling iron plugged in by the sink adjacent to her own.

Winnie hasn’t curled her hair once in the nearly four years she’d been in LA. Not for nights out, or auditions, or even a date. A brief moment of madness overtakes her as she stands there staring at the metal device, her hand starting to reach out as words that should be long forgotten ring loud and clear in her head. For a second, the pale beige paint of her apartment bathroom turns the light blue and grey color scheme of her childhood one. Her mom had ‘surprised’ her with the the renovation one year when she decided to redecorate the house while Winnie was at volleyball camp, insisting she had chosen Winnie’s favorite colors, when in reality it simply matched the rest of the monotone suburban house that Winnie secretly couldn’t stand. It was boring, and typical, and...stuck, despite its relative newness.

With that, the fog clears as quickly as it had come, and she sets her jaw determinedly. She hasn’t let Dahlia psych her out for this long; she isn’t about to let now be the first time since she’s been out here on her own.

And maybe Naomi was right. Maybe she’d catch a certain tight end’s eye with a tight end of her own, after all.

The nausea suddenly returns as she shakes her head and reaches for her straightener instead, flicking it on before sectioning off her hair.

“No wonder you’re so fucking single, Win.”

[euphoria-vmin7]

falling for you | jjk headcanon

pairing: dorky jock! jeon jungkook x shy! reader 

genre/warnings: F L U F F, headcanons, ALL BULLET POINTS, this isn’t even a real fic i just had this in my head and needed to post it, ITS ALL FLUFF, literally nothing else but cliche shit, jungkook is whipped, this is just him being a softie, kook is clumsy af in this, did i say FLUFF???

word count: 3,917 (okay so it wasn’t supposed to be this long-) 

-- summary: this is literally just dorky football player jungkook’s entire process of falling for the reader. he’s a clumsy mess in this sORRY

SO...

Your best friend would have to drag you to one of the football games because god knows it isn’t something you’d go to voluntarily. 

You’d much rather prefer to be curled up in bed watching Netflix or reading by yourself. The game is too rowdy, there’s barely any space in the stands, should anymore be said? 

But anyway, it’s been decided that you need to mingle with more human beings, and so you’re forced to stand in the middle of a bunch of shouting and sweaty people with a frown on your face. 

You’re shy. No other way to put it. You get easily embarrassed, especially when meeting people for the first time, which is why going to a football game and making friends is the last thing you want to do. 

Sadly, you end up going, and end up watching star player Jeon Jungkook sprint across the field like a bullet. 

It’s not that you were deliberately staring at him. It’s just he had that aura, you know? So many people knew him, praised him. And you understood why: the boy had everything. 

So you just watch the game, unknowingly getting more and more into it as you see the stakes rise in attempts to win. 

Your school’s team is extremely competitive, and having Jungkook was like the cherry on top. With perseverance and determination, he plays until the time is called and the team is cheering in victory. 

It was actually a fun time, you had to admit. But now that it was over you wanted to return to your own hobbies. 

It is late when you step into the library. There’s barely anyone there. 

The librarian knows you well, as you spend most of your time huddled up in one of the corners with a new book in hand. She waves to you and you shyly smile at her before beginning to browse. 

You take a seat at one of the tables and delve deep into the world of the novel you had chosen. After all, your favorite part of reading was looking through the eyes of someone else. 

Meanwhile, Jungkook doesn’t expect to need a book at this time of night. Only when Taehyung reminds him that he had a paper due the next morning did he rush over to get it. 

After a quick greeting to the librarian, he begins rummaging through shelves of books. He hates how long it takes for him to find what he’s looking for. 

He’s peering along racks when he notices you for the first time. 

He has to physically do a double take because wow

You’re cute. 

The way you’re sitting, knees to your chest, while biting your fingernail with some novel clutched in your other hand. And clad only in your college sweater that was far too big for you, hair up so messily that he could clearly make out stubborn strands that stuck straight up. 

Wow x2. 

Jungkook can feel his curiosity peak. How come he had never seen you before? 

He was sure he’d immediately recognize and remember someone who looked like you. He was curious. So curious. 

What was your name? How old were you? Were you in his year? In any of his classes? Did you know him? How did your voice sound? 

Instead of trying to find out the answers to any of the questions floating around in his head, Jungkook remains hidden behind shelves, browsing for far longer than necessary even after he had found what he was looking for. 

The next time he sees you, you’re reading again. This time, you’re just sitting outside, under one of the trees on the grounds. 

Jungkook doesn’t notice at first, but when he looks again he realizes that it’s you. Mystery girl from the library. 

The whole time he’s chatting, Jungkook’s eyes roam over to glance at you. Today you look different. You’re wearing a ruffled blouse and plain blue jeans. Your hair is up, but this time in a neat ponytail, only a few strands of hair deliberately framing your face. You don’t have glasses on today. Jungkook guessed that you probably had contacts. 

Jimin, one of Jungkook’s older friends, notices his attention drifting. 

“What are you looking at...oh it’s (Name),” 

Jungkook tears his eyes away from you to look at Jimin eagerly. “Hyung, you know her?” 

Jimin blinks. “Yeah she’s in one of my classes. Why?” 

Jungkook can’t hold back a smile. “Who is she?” 

So Jimin spends the next few minutes telling Jungkook what he knows about you. Your full name. How quiet you were, tending to keep to yourself. Your love for reading. Jungkook listens attentively, which Jimin can’t help but notice. 

About a month later, all of Jungkook’s friends are fully aware of his fascination with you. Though they find it hilarious that he has a crush on you but hasn’t spoken a word to you yet. He doubted you even knew he existed. But still, he loves to admire you from afar. 

Today, he and the boys are sitting in the library. Namjoon had said that he had some books to check out, and Jungkook had immediately begged to come with him in hopes of seeing you again. That had turned into all of them going, which had led to Namjoon’s studying plans being destroyed. 

“Just go say hi,” Taehyung sighed, leaning back in his chair. 

“Jungkookie’s shy,” Jimin teased as he listened to the boy’s protests. Jungkook grumbled in return before letting his eyes drift back over to you.

“Alright, I’m done. Let’s go,” Namjoon said, standing up. Jungkook looked up at him. “I can’t get anything done here. Which is ironic because it’s a place made for studying,” 

Jungkook can’t persuade Namjoon to stay, so he finds himself piling up his books in his hands and standing up to leave. 

“You seriously won’t say anything to her?” Jimin asked as they all began walking towards the exit. Jungkook shakes his head no as he stops to adjust the books in his hands. 

“I’m not ready,” is his excuse and Namjoon and Jimin chuckle before they turn to head out. Taehyung had disappeared somewhere but Jungkook didn’t think too much of it. 

Big mistake, because just as Jungkook was about to pass you, he felt a familiar hand harshly shove his back, the force catching the younger male by surprise. As a result, the books in his arms tumbled from his grasp right in front of your table. Jungkook’s cheeks burned as you tore your eyes from your novel and looked down at him in surprise. He would kill Taehyung later. 

To his utter horror, you put your book on the table and bent down to his level. His palms became extremely sweaty as you began collecting the books and he scrambled to do the same. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling so embarrassed it hurt. But all you did was smile at him and there goes his heart. 

“It’s fine, no need to apologize,” Jungkook smiles shakily at your answer and begins to pick up his stuff. In between, he glances up to look at you. This is the first time he’d ever seen you so close and he could now see the smallest details. The features of your face were so much clearer. He could clearly make out the shades of your eyes, the pores of your skin, every tiny detail that made his heart throb. 

He’s especially enamored by the way your fingers peak out from under your sweater paws. He briefly imagines what it would be like to hold them. 

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly as you hand him his textbook. Jungkook’s head shoots up to look at you nervously. What?! What was it? Was he doing something weird??

All he can muster is a dumbfounded “HUH?” in return and he mentally slaps himself at how stupid he sounds. 

“You fell, didn’t you? Are you hurt anywhere?” you ask and tilt your head to the side. Jungkook can feel his cheeks redden and wants to crawl into a hole. He conjures up his shaky and awkward smile and shakes his head quickly. 

“I’m fine,” his face pales at the squeakiness of his voice. Did his voice really just crack!?

You don’t seem to notice or if you do, you’re kind enough to not mention it. You simply flash him a small smile and nod. “That’s a relief,” 

It’s at that second Jungkook realizes who he’s talking to. That he’s actually gathered up the courage (even if it was by total accident) to talk to you, the girl he’s been so curious about. He’s nervous of course, but you just seem so sweet. And he wants to leave an impression. 

“I’m Jungkook,” he grins, confidently saying his name despite the way his palms are sweating. He wipes one hand against his jeans and balances his books against his hip. Your eyes dart to the side and Jungkook catches the way you begin fiddling with your sleeves. 

“(N-Name),” you mumble. He knows this already, of course. But he still nods along and manages to make his smile a little less forced. 

“Nice to meet you,” he grins and now it’s your turn to blush. Damn, you’re cute. 

“You too,” 

There is an awkward pause in the conversation and Jungkook takes it as his cue to get going. He feels satisfied though. This is the most progress he’s made with you. “Alright then, I’ll see you around (Name). Thanks for your help!” he waves and feels super proud of how confident he sounds. For once he sounds mature and not like a lovestruck teenager. You nod meekly as you look at his dazzling smile before you both part ways. 

Jungkook approaches the exit of the library where the three of his friends stand, watching your exchange. Before any of them can speak, Jungkook reels a strong fist back and punches Taehyung in the gut. The older male doubles over in pain as Jimin laughs loudly. Namjoon grins and looks to the youngest. “Where’d all that confidence come from?” 

Jungkook smiles bashfully. “I wasn’t really confident. I just-” 

“Say what you want,” Taehyung wheezes as he remains hunched over. “But you wouldn’t have said shit to her if it wasn't for me,” 

Jungkook glares at his friend menacingly. “Do you want another one? Because I have another fist available,”

Jimin simpers as Taehyung backs away, clutching his gut protectively. “So hostile…” 

“What did you say?” Namjoon asks as they head out. 

“I just introduced myself and said thank you for the help,” Jungkook shrugs. Taehyung clicks his tongue. 

“You should’ve just asked her out on a date,” 

“Hyung what’s it with you and stupid ideas?” 

“Just admit you’re still scared of girls,” 

The next time he sees you, he’s walking by himself. He notices you at the end of the corridor but you aren’t alone. A familiar male stands across you, chatting amiably. Before he can stop himself, Jungkook is sprinting down the hallway and jumping onto his back. Jimin grunts in surprise as one of Jungkook’s heavy arms sling around his shoulders. “Hey hyung~~” he sings with a blinding smile as he looks down at his friend. Jimin rolls his eyes with a disgruntled grimace and tires to pry the younger off of him. Jungkook then acts stupid and pretends like he’s noticing you for the first time. “Oh! (Name), how are you today?” 

You flush under his gaze and immediately begin fiddling with your sleeves. Though you try and relax because Jungkook is not as intimidating as you expected and he’s actually kind of...nice?

“Uh..I’m good, Jungkook,” 

Jungkook’s heart thuds painfully against his ribcage because wow he’d never thought his name sounded better than at that moment. His thoughts are all over the place. Between staying calm and cool, trying to address his feelings, and wondering what Jimin was doing with you, he was a mess. What should he do right now?

Jungkook and Jimin seemed to be having their own nonverbal conversation and you don’t really know how to react. Before you can politely excuse yourself, Jungkook turns to you. 

“So, are you coming to the game this Friday?” he asks with a hopeful grin and you bite your lip. 

“Oh um...actually I don’t think so,” 

Jungkook’s gaze drops and he pouts. “Why not?” 

Your eyes go a little wide at his whiny tone and how his confident expression had quickly changed into one of a kicked puppy. 

“W-Well,” you stuttered. “It’s n-not really my scene,” 

Jungkook’s eyes softened and Jimin nodded. “Too loud for you huh?” 

You grinned sheepishly. Jungkook smiled down at you. 

“That’s okay. You don’t have to come if you’re not comfortable,” Jungkook smiles and you realize that this boy is actually being considerate. He’s not judging or teasing. He’s considerate. Jimin and Jungkook share another silent look before Jungkook turns away. “See you around, (Name)!” A small dimple creases his cheek as he grins at you and Jimin resumes your previous conversation, not noticing that you weren’t paying attention to him anymore. 

Jungkook shakes his sweaty hair away from his eyes as he jogs across the field. He nods at his teammates as they shout words of encouragement to each other and he surveys the field. He drones out the screaming coming from the crowd. He always does this. Though the cheers are motivating and nice to hear, he prefers to keep all of his attention on the game. 

At least that’s what he would normally do. But tonight, when his eyes drift over to the audience again, somehow he singles you out. There you are in the middle of the roaring crowd, looking awkward as hell as you grip your own arms tightly. Jungkook’s heart leaps into his throat as it registers that you have actually come to his game. And what’s even worse, is that you’re staring right at him. Jungkook trips over his feet a little as he tries to adjust his body to stand in some cool and nonchalant pose, earning a few glances from his team. He wasn’t even exaggerating. Your eyes are on him for the entirety of the game. And he can’t help but grin when he catches you doing your cute little clapping and cheering just a little bit louder as the game goes on. 

And though they did win that night, Jungkook had to admit he was not nearly as focused as he normally was. 

“Okay just be cool. Don’t stress,” Jimin clapped Jungkook’s back as the younger male took a deep breath and rubbed his palms together. 

“He’s right. There’s no need to be nervous. Just be mature about it,” Namjoon says, peering over his book from across the table. Jungkook looks back at Jimin, who gives him a smile and thumbs up. 

“Bet you 25 bucks that you chicken out,” Taehyung smirks and Jungkook flips him off. 

“You got this,” Jimin says, looking at Jungkook encouragingly after harshly smacking Taehyung. 

“You’re right. I got this,” Jungkook repeats determinedly, standing up and puffing his chest out. Taehyung claps with a rectangular smile as Jungkook’s eyes drift to his final destination. You. They’re at the library again today, and Jungkook decided that today would be the day he finally asks you out. You’re sitting at the same table as you were that night Jungkook had first met you. And today he’s finally ready to make his move. He stands up and collects his books in his hands. 

“Good luck, Kookie,” Namjoon grins, dimples denting his cheeks and Jungkook beams. He turns around and begins making his way to you. He’s so nervous he can feel palms sweating against the bindings of the books he’s holding. He feels like he’s hyper aware of everything. He focuses on you and it feels like it takes hours to walk to where you are. Everything about you is perfect today. You look at ease instead of self conscious and you’re once again immersed in some book. He finds that so endearing, how deep you fall into your reading. It’s like you wouldn’t notice anything around you so long as you had a book in your hand. 

It seems that Jungkook doesn’t notice his surroundings either. Just as he’s almost reaching you and placing a confident smile on his face, his boot gets caught in the leg of a chair and he goes tumbling. It’s like he's falling in slow motion and he’s already cursing himself for being so damn clumsy. Jungkook lands with a thud against the carpeted floor of the library, his books scattering in front of him. He hears a light giggle and he groans quietly as he pushes his face into the floor, hoping that it would swallow him whole. Familiar sneakers come into his eyesight and he peers up to see you crouching on the floor, a soft smile on your face. 

“Jungkook..” you sigh, shaking your head playfully. “You really need to stop falling,” 

The athlete’s eyes widen comically and he scrambles to get up into a crouching position, hurrying to help you clean up his mess of books. He awkwardly chuckles as his cheeks flare up in embarrassment. “I know right? Sorry (Name),” 

“It’s okay,” you smile and Jungkook notices the way your cheeks also turn a bit pink. But that happens every time you both talk. You’re just shy, which to him, is extremely cute. “Are you hurt?” 

“Nah,” Jungkook chuckles, the tensions in his nerves easing just a bit. “As you can see I’m always falling, so I’m kinda used to it,” He isn't prepared for the laugh that tumbles past your lips at his statement. Until now he had only heard you giggle or chuckle. But never a full blown laugh. He decided then and there that it was his favorite sound in the fucking universe. 

“Hey (Name),” he asks suddenly and you look up at him with a happy smile. 

“Yeah?” 

“What book are you reading right now?” Jungkook asks, biting his lip gently. His heart is pounding but for some odd reason he feels confident. Your eyes light up and Jungkook’s stomach flips. 

“The Fault in Our Stars,” you answer with a grin. “I’m re-reading it for the hundredth time,” 

Jungkook chuckles before he pulls himself up from the floor and offers you a hand. “Don’t tell anyone, but I cried reading that book,” Your eyes shine with interest and a bit of mischief as you take his hand. Jungkook mentally wonders whether you’ll be disgusted by how sweaty his palms are but he’s more focused on the fact that your hand is actually in his right now. 

“You cried reading The Fault in Our Stars?” your voice has a new tone to it, a playful and almost teasing tone that makes Jungkook’s heart race. 

“Oh come on,” he whines. “Everyone cries,” 

You giggle and nod. “I can’t argue with that,”

“Actually I was gonna go drop this off. Have you read it?” Jungkook asks, holding up one of his books. You peer at it and your eyes scan the title. 

“Hm I don’t think so. Is it good?” you ask curiously and Jungkook feels proud of how much he’s talking because he realizes that he’s just being himself. 

“Oh my god, it’s so good,” the taller male stresses, running his fingers through his hair. “You’ll love it if you like mystery,” You drop his hand and take a seat at your table. Jungkook watches your face for a sign and he mentally cheers when you ask him to sit next to you. 

“I love mystery!” you say excitedly. “What’s it about?” 

Jungkook’s eyes soften as he takes in your excitement. He relays the plot to you, soaking in every facial feature and memorizing every single comment you make. As you continue to talk more comfortably with him, Jungkook realizes just how amazing you are. His nerves dissipate completely as your conversation shifts to some of your favorite books. Then Jungkook is talking about his other hobbies like playing Overwatch with Taehyung and his secret obsession with dancing. Then you’re telling him all about how much you love visiting dog cafes and that the only type of exercise you’d ever do was jogging. Then Jungkook is telling you about how Gureum, his dog, loves his Jungkook’s older brother more than him. And just like that, conversations flow easily between you two and Jungkook wonders why he was ever so nervous. You’re perfect in every sense of the way and he had never imagined that you would be so easy for him to talk to. 

By the time you notice how much time has passed, the library is about to close. Jungkook politely helps your pack up your things and you walk with him to the counter as he returns his books. Jungkook glances at you with a fond smile, his heart beating comfortably yet still beating just a bit more happily for you. You’re still animatedly chatting with him about what kind of dog breed you want to get as the two of you step out into the night. 

“...but I can barely take care of myself so I don't think I’d be good at taking care of a puppy, too,” you giggle. Jungkook laughs as he slips his sweater over his head. 

“I’m sure you’d be able to figure it out, (Name). And I could help you. I have tons of experience with Gureum,” 

“You mean the same Gureum who loves your brother more than you?” you asked him teasingly and Jungkook’s jaw drops playfully. 

“How dare you?” he demands dramatically and smiles when you laugh. 

“Well, I should get going,” you sigh, tugging the strap on your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll see you later Jungkook,” 

Jungkook nods with a grin as you wave to him and turn to leave. But as he watches your back get further and further away, he realizes that despite having been confident and brave, he didn’t accomplish his goal yet. And Jungkook hated that. Feeling a fire run through his veins, he takes a leap of faith and jogs after you. 

“Hey (Name)!!” he calls out. You turn around and raise a brow in confusion. Jungkook gulps as his throat becomes dry and his nerves begin to tingle but he pushes them aside and in the most confident voice he can muster he asks: 

“Do you maybe wanna go out and get a coffee with me tomorrow?”

As soon as he says it his mind goes haywire thinking of all of the different and better ways he could've asked that. Your expression makes him even more nervous and for a split second he wishes that there was a way he could turn back time. But then a slow smile forms on your face and your cheeks turn a glowing shade of pink. 

“I...I’d like that,” you nod, shyly tugging on your sleeves and Jungkook‘s eyes widen. 

“W-What? For real?” he stutters and his brain is yelling at him to shut up and be cool but he can’t because he’s so damn relieved. You nod with a sheepish smile and he laughs. “O-Okay then I’ll see you tomorrow!!” 

“Yeah,” you grin. “See you tomorrow,” 

And all Jungkook can think about as he walks home is how you like your coffee, what books he’ll bring up during your date, and the fact that Taehyung now owes him 25 bucks.

.

.

.

.

[jupiteriala]

Yoon Seungho and Yeonsangun

A hot scary tyrant with anger issues and rampages of violence, a sex addict, a traumatized boy tormented by the shadow of his father… Who am I referring to? King Yeonsangun or our Yoon Seungho? Because both stories match really well.

So on this post I’ll share why I believe Seungho is inspired in Yeonsangun, the 10th king of the Joseon dynasty and the cruelest ever known.

Here I will leave a link with a nice and underrated video I found that summarizes the info on Yeonsangun: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IEUJPNfMMQo&t=295s and will leave some movie recommendations as well.

I will start by summing up the canon facts of Yeonsangun and Yoon Seungho that are very similar, then proceed to do assumptions and theories n.n

TW: This will contain mentions of death, sex, rape and psychological abuse so be careful 

>Yeonsangun felt like he lived under the shadow of his father the king Seongjong, he was often criticized by the ministers and compared to him and even aimed some hate towards him as he allowed the death of his mother lady Yoon, same happens with Seungho that says to “be living by the principles of his father” in a very sarcastic way and sends lusty paintings to bother him and having nightmares when father Yoon comes to his mind. Both being the eldest son to inherit all the responsibilities. 

>King Yeonsangun was a sex adict, he made a whole brigade of ministers to recruit 10.000 virgins for him who would live in the Sungkyunkwan (basically the Joseon Confucianism university of the capital Hanyang later known as Seul ofc) to serve him making this a brothel. Our dear Yoon Seungho attended and hosted orgies on a daily basis right? Pretty similar. Both known for their crazy libido and not caring about public spaces huh. 

>This king was known for his episodes of anger since he was a child and when he became the king (19) killed his tutor the Seungho version of this would be how cold blooded he killed a servant on chapter one. 

>Yeonsangun might have been a tyrant but he was also a hottie, described to be a bit feminine having a nice built and a color skin pale as pricey jade just like our protagonist. Here a ss of Yeonsangun being portrayed on the treacherous (2015) pretty hot right? 

>Sadly, before getting to know how his mother was killed Yeonsangun was known to be a nice man, a good king caring and organized, brilliant in poetry and smart but turned out the monster the history books describe know because of his traumatic past. This mirrors our potn quote “He was actually one of the brightest young men in this region…” oh my lord Yoon they did you so wrong 

>This king is known for the bloodiest purges on Korean history killing a lot of the Sarim faction (basically the scholar side of the politicians and nobility) and Seungho’s family is related to a purge… hmm… This was caused when he found out why and how his mother (Deposed queen Yoon, yeah the surnames are important to be told!) was cruelly killed with poison which ended up in the literati purges. 

Those are the canon facts so far! I’ll continue with assumptions now stay with me <3

+This has to be the most fun one and is heavily based on the annals of Joseon and a very well-known film “The king and the clown” (2005) So Yeonsangun had a royal consort that was Jang Nok-su who was his favorite and treated him as a baby 

and another known favorite one was his royal juggler whose real name I don’t known but is portrayed as Gong-gil in the movie so the consort was very jealous of the clown who was a lowborn ofc Nok-su is known for being poisonous and villain like while Gong-gil was allegedly a pure and cute soul very feminine like (Are we all getting the Jihwa and Nakyum vibes?) Lemme point out some scenes on the movie that are tremendously similar to our favorite manhwa: So the consort grew jealous of the clown as he got more and more favored by the king, he was the chosen to spend the nights playing puppets to the king and the first thing she noticed was how Yeonsangun looked at Gong-gil, there was even a scene where the consort gets in top on him trying to get him stripped

  bc he had received a gift from the king (to Royal robe was on his shoulders)

 And guess what the king made? Drag her outside (not by the topknot but extremely similar way) as she yells HOW DARE YOU!! While her little thingy from the hair falls. the level of parallelism, astronomical.

 He even has a very worried prime minister who plays his cards in secret to please the king, very Kim like. He even looks like this panel as he was killing someone.

 We also get a “Because the way you looked at him is not the way you look at me” shot as Gong gil looks at his partner tenderly 

Some extra ones: Yeonsangun had Gong-gil on the palace against his will and allegedly kept him as entertainment but ended up kissing him lol. And Gong-gil used to be a prostitute before (just like Nakyum thought of himslef:c)

+Basically in both of the films I’ve mentioned so far he is portrayed as mentally ill, insomnia, hallucinations, dissociation, etc. And as a child (being treated as one by his consort and having childish behavior, etc.). Which are things I assume SH has too (well he is canonically ill with insomnia though)

+In the treacherous (2015) Yeonsangun likes to paint erotic paintings (which idk if was real but he was smart and skilled in arts such as poetry as I've read so this a nice headcannon about Yeonsangun that could have inspired Byeonduck nim). Plus, the sex scenes are so vivid and explicit... Like Potn

Well thanks for bearing with me now here I go with the last info and some theories (?)

-So what caused this king to be so unstable and such a tyrant was when he found out about the cruel destiny of mother Yoon) Could Seungho’s past be related to something like this? His mother being mistreated and having an indecent death? Or his lover perhaps? Anyways a purge is also mentioned in the manhwa so if you connect some points please tell me!

-His father, Seogjong was praised sure but also banned a member of the Lee clan (The royal clan, yes Lee was their surname just like Jihwa’s also written as Yi) for living and having a daughter with his slave, this makes me remember Mummyeong and Jihwa’s relationship (The girl was Yi Guji) and strengthened the rules towards widoweds not remarrying. Might me just my extra Sagittarius imaginations loving taking everything to the extreme but this somehow resembles how father Yoon fucked up Seungho and Jihwa calling them “ill”

-Finally their names sound really similar, just me? Yeonsangun Yoon Seungho and I mean look at the pic on the video cover and this korean interview on Lezhin... They are twins!

The main reason I do this is to have open discussion, go ahead roast and debunk my theory or praise it!! Reactions, feedback and opinions are welcome. If you want the theory in Spanish text me or text me whenever you want let's discuss let's chat. I am mostly active on twitter @Seunghosgirl

[ejm513]

HEART OF STONE-CHAPTER ONE-LIGHTWEIGHT

PROLOUGE

~CHAPTER ONE~

~LIGHTWEIGHT~

“What is the status on the Huang gang?” Toph barked, sitting tall and erect behind her large wooden desk. The young, embarrassingly green cadet put a valiant effort into mimicking her stoic stance. No amount of effort could hide his racing blood and his pounding heart. Toph could sense it all. Had she been closer to him she could have even sensed the heat radiating from his cheeks. She could hear his clumsy fingers crinkling a piece of paper as his breath hitched.

It took every ounce of self-control for Toph not to smirk or let out a horrendous snort.

“Poor kid must be quaking in his boots.” She silently mused as she cleared her throat. Her fingers curled around themselves and rested under her chin. Her milky eyes bore him down, and she could only imagine his squirming figure growing tighter as the seconds ticked.

“I’m waiting Officer Chen.” She drawled. The young officer jumped, papers fumbling in his clammy fingers.

“Yes Chief my apologies Chief.” Chen paused, clearing his throat and straightening the papers in his hands.

“They’ve either been very quiet or have gone way underground. We’ve been keeping an eye on them, even having plain clothed officers scout their usual stomping grounds. There’s been a suspicious drop in activity… an alarming drop.”

Toph leaned back in her chair and nodded. She brought her pale, surprisingly dainty fingers to her lips, letting the information settle in her head.

The Huang Gang had, once upon a time, started as a group of misfit benders. They were down on their luck and had resorted to menacing the public to survive. Such activities including robbing, mugging… the usual illegal tom foolery. There was a disturbing darkness to their malice though. It was all tinged with the taste of hatred and vengeance. Even in their early disjointed early days their favorite targets had been fire benders and above all, non benders.

Toph felt her stomach drop. It seemed no matter how hard she, Aang, Zuko or anyone tried the rift between benders and non-benders refused to give way. Toph mercifully had bene able to contain the band of unhinged troublemakers, even as they grew and ever more coordinated.

How she had managed to underestimate them to such an alarming degree Toph would never know. Right under her nose the Huang’s ballooned into the largest, most systematic crime organization in Republic City. Their childish days of malice and menacing had dissented into terrorizing. The horror they inspired reach far and wide, stitching their way into the fabric of every citizens life. They lurked in the shadows, struck with no mercy and vanished with the wind back into the darkness.

Toph could only sigh and marvel at how much of a pain in her ass the Huang’s had become.

“Alarming is right.” Toph conceited, her pretty features screwing with aggravation. “It could mean nothing, but I don’t trust them for one second. They’re up to something and up to something big. Continue to send plain clothed officers under cover. We have to figure out what they’re doing and stop them before they can do it-understood?”

“Yes chief!” Chen barked with a click of his heels and a stiff salute.

“Good. Now one more thing-what time is it?” There was a pause as Chen’s black eyes glanced to the lonely clock hanging on the wall.

A strange piece of décor for a blind woman, he noted.

“It’s 3:30.”

“Oh man!” Toph cried, leaping out of her chair. “I need to go.” Officer Chen hurdled towards the wall, his face twisted with incredulity.

“If I may be permitted, why are you leaving so early?” He asked, gawking at her as she bustled towards the door. “It’s not like you.”

“I promised Avatar Aang and Katara I would come meet their new baby.” She said, whisking past him to reach the doorknob.

“Don’t forget to tell Sargent Suzuki my orders-or else.”

“Punishment?” Chen gulped.

“Big time.” She dead panned, swinging the door open. “Have a good day.” Toph cried in an eerily high, sing-song voice that sent a chill down the young officer’s spine. She left Chen frozen in the office, pale faced and gaping.

“I don’t get paid enough for this…”

Top marched her way through the familiar halls of headquarters. Though she was demure in stature, she cut a striking figure as she strode towards the exit. Her strong, petite frame was covered in a heavy suit. It shined and gleamed in spite of the garish indoor lighting. She kept her coal colored mane twisted in a large, moon shaped bun. Jagged bangs framed her elegant alabaster features. Those features were always hard and stubborn, much like the Earth she wielded with such deadly force.

Combined with her rank, it was no surprise she was given a wide berth. Every soul he passed would greet her with a bow of the head and a curt, “Chief Beifong.”

Toph would return the deference with a short nod, ignoring the pit in her stomach.

It never mattered to how many years she had the lofty position, or how many years she would continue to serve. It never mattered that she had chosen this life-or that she reveled in the simplicity of being known as chief. The extreme deference made Toph’s skin crawl. It was so grand secret that her lives greatest passion was ordering others around and commanding respect. In fact, if Toph had been completely honest with herself, nothing on Earth gave her such a thrill and joy.

And yet….

It was one thing to bark drills at a bunch of children her own age.

It was thing to be called “Sifu Toph”.

“Chief” was another monster entirely.

Had she known she was signing up to a life of distance and cold formality she would have slapped Aang and Zuko upside the head for even suggesting she be Chief Toph Beifong.

They were desperate and she…

No matter. Toph huffed as she reconciled with the notion of another conversation explaining the difference between respect and kow towing.

Two of her closest friends had brought new life into this world, and Toph would be damned if she didn’t get to meet him.

“Leaving already Chief Beifong?” A small voice chirped. Toph moved her head to the sound of the mousey voice. She flashed a grin at the timid girl who manned the receptionist desk.

“Yup. I’m heading over to Air Temple Island.”

“Ooohhh!” The woman squealed. Toph could hear the ear-splitting smile in her voice. She bit her bottom lips, stifling a snicker of her own.

“Are you going to meet the new baby?” She asked.

“I am.” Toph exclaimed, her face splitting into a beam. The secretary sighed a dreamy, doe eyed sigh. Toph could easily imagine her eyes fluttering and a far off look on her face as she imagined a baby of her own.

“I’m so happy for them. Babies are just the most wonderful thing, aren’t they?”

Toph stiffened, her hands clasping behind her back. She twisted and fiddled with them, attempting to ignore her racing heart and the hole in her chest. She prayed her blazing cheeks hadn’t turned a beat red.

“Ah…. Yeah sure. Kids are pretty great.” Toph nodded. She could feel those soft, childish eyes bearing down on her, waiting for her to say something, anything.

“She must be new… great.” Toph groaned, beginning to rock on her heels. The air grew heavy as the secretary continued to beam and Toph rocked on her heels, her milky eyes darting all around the open lobby.

“Do you ever”

“Well would you look at the time! I gotta go home and change before I miss the ferry. I’ll see you tomorrow… uuuhhh….. uhhhh….

“Sakura…”

“Oh right Sakura!! Sorry about that hun.” Toph spun on the palm of her feet and dashed out the door into the sunlight. She left another soul gawking, blinking and utterly baffled in her wake.

“What just happened?”

Toph’s air of authority refused to melt, even in the bright late May sun. Her shoulders remained erect, her head held high and her steps measured. It didn’t matter that the smooth sidewalk threatened to char her bare feet, or that the sun seemed hell bent on boiling her alive in her metal uniform. While she was on the streets the people would know who she was, and that she was always there.

Still… her esteemed position and respect she commanded didn’t mean Toph couldn’t enjoy herself.

Toph released her twirling fingers and hung her arms lose by her side. Her skilled hands naturally went to her hips. Her posture slowly withered as the sun warmed her face. She sucked a deep breath, letting the sweet air fill her lungs.

No matter how much Toph would have wanted to, she could never take in her beloved Republic City. She could never see the buildings creeping towards the sky. She could never witness the people bustling around her, creating new lives for themselves. She couldn’t even view the streets beneath her bare feet or the sapphire sky above her.

Yet the Chief of Police couldn’t help but grin. She may not have been able to see the fruits of her labor; but they were all around her as she moved through the streets she knew so well.

She could hear the voices swirling around her, many of them filled with laughter and airy join despite what hid in the shadows. She could hear horses and carriages clacking down the road, the beasts scent wafting in her nose. She heard the merchants bellowing and children screeching with delight. The sweet scent of flowers and late spring air trickled her nose.

Toph’s lips curled into a triumphant, cocky smirk. The signs of a well fought, well-earned peace was all around her. It didn’t matter she couldn’t see the results of her tireless efforts. She could smell it, she could hear it and she could feel it in the earth beneath her feet.

It was enough to make Toph puff out her chest. The Huang’s be damned. She had help forge a new era of love and peace with her own two hands and no one would take that from her. She let out a contented sigh as she rounded the corner to her apartment. Her heart began to flutter as she opened the door, her stomach flipping and twisting. She felt her cheeks flush as she weaved through the halls, her fingers tingled with anticipation.

“I hope he’s home.” She thought, curling her fingers around the smooth doorknob and twisting it open.

“Hello?” Toph cried, stepping into the doorway. There was beat of silence, making Toph’s chest tight. She held her breath, waiting for the sound she so desperately longed to hear.

“I’m in the bedroom!” A melodic tenor cried. Toph’s heart exploded with sheer bliss, her lips twisting in an ear to ear grin. She dashed towards the bedroom and let the door slam behind her. She could feel her cheeks flushing as her feet pounded on the hard floor.

Toph bounded into the door frame. She slammed her foot hard on the floor, allowing her to take in the outline of the sparse, open bedroom. Her lips curled when she saw a thin figure sitting crossed legged in the middle of a large bed. His shoulders were hunched over what she could only assume was a well-loved sketch book.

“Whatcha doing there Kanto?” She asked. Kanto’s thin lips curled at the corners, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

“Drawing. What else would I be doing?”

“Oh I don’t know.” Toph mused, slinking towards the bed. She took her spot next to him, snaking her arm around his shoulder and pulling him in close. She ran her fingers through his silky, ebony waves. Kanto chuckled, placing his lips against her temple.

“Okay what’s going on? You’re home early and you’re being oddly affectionate.”

“What are you talking about? I’m always loving and affectionate!” Toph retorted, kissing his high cheek bone.

“Uh huh you keep telling yourself that. Now spill-what’s gotten into you?” Kanto questioned.

“There’s nothing to spill Mr. Fancy Pants. It’s a beautiful day, and I finally get to go meet Aang and Katara’s baby.”

Kanto groaned, twisting his frame out of Toph’s arms. His hazel eyes turned back to his sketch, his face twisting with disgust. Toph leaned back, her blood turning cold at his hateful moan.

“Good lord how many does that make-20?!” He exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

“Three. They have three!” Toph snapped. She rose her hand and smacked the back of his head. “Don’t be such a smart ass about it.”

“They’re trying to rebuild and entire culture you jack ass” The words staid firmly in her thoughts, though the burned hotter than any flame.

“Yeah well you don’t need to be so violent!” He moaned, holding his smarting skull. Besides three kids is three kids too many if you ask me.” Kanto claimed as he smoothed the back of his head. Toph stood, crossing her arms as she made her way to her closet. With a flick of her wrist and outstretched arms her metal armor flung off, clashing into place. She was left with her black pants and a plain snowy white tank top that clung to her figure.

Despite the thick, moist air Toph was chilled to the bone. The bliss she felt had vanished, being replaced with hallow numbness and a bitter taste in her mouth.

“I guess that’s one way you could look at it.” Toph muttered.

“It’s the only way to look at it!” Kanto cried, throwing his pencil to the bed. “They can and all… I guess but they’re loud and annoying and just plain disgusting. They ruin lives. I don’t understand how they can have so many.”

Toph froze, her finger hovering over her favorite emerald top. Her heart thudded and sputtered. A hard lump formed in her throat. She swallowed that lump along with the shock and awe tearing at her.

“I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about kids Kanto.” Toph’s thin fingers encased the soft fabric, whipping it off the hanger and slinging it on to her shoulders.

“Well it’s not like I’ve tried to hide it. I just think they’re not worth it. Besides I’m not really the paternal type.” He paused, turning his attention back to Toph. He eyed her with growing suspicion as she wrapped the emerald shirt around her frame.

“And since when do you care? You’re not exactly the maternal type Toph.”

Toph felt her heart fall straight to her stomach. That horrid, cold numbness enveloped her once more.

“I could be…. If I tried”

“No I’m not.” Toph consented, sniching a belt at her waist. “But Aang and Katara are my best friends and I promised I would meet him.”

There was also another, silent reason why she was going. There was a soul who needed her to keep his pieces together and keep him moving forward.

“Yeah yeah I get it. Just don’t get any ideas when you’re over there.” Kanto quipped, his lips grinning and his eyes laughing. “The last thing we need is a screaming gremlin, right?”

Toph’s shoulders went rigid and the air escaped her lungs. She stood motionless; her eyes glued to the closet. Her fingers balled into fist as the wheels in her head began to turn.

Much as she hated to admit it Kanto was right.

He was not the parental type. For all of his kindness, grand gestures and dazzling words he was far from stable. He was as free as the wind, flitting and floating to his next grand adventure with only his sketch book in hand. On the one hand Toph never minded. She was thrilled by the unending collection of stories he brought back with him. She loved the rush of anticipation of his return, or how he would take her hand and trace her fingers against his drawings. This always led to him kissing each knuckle, then her arm, then her neck and lips…

Needless to say, his returns were joyful in more ways than one.

Yet Toph despised Kanto for always flying away. No matter how she shoved her need indepence down his or any mortals throat, no matter how much the idea of a lifelong commitment resembled a ball and chains she still loathed it. She loathed how cold her bed was. She longed for his arms around hers, to feel his heartbeat against her back and his breath against her neck. She despised how he left her with nothing but her thoughts and utter silence. Kanto would never buckle down in one place and find a job that required actual talent or effort. He would never be the kind of man to change diapers in the dead of night or cuddle a wailing child back to sleep. Sleep, he claimed, was vital to the creative process and heaven help anyone who would disrupt his creative process. He would never want to have a child on his lap or a story in his hands.

More to the point, Kanto would never be the kind of man Aang or Zuko were. For all their flaws-and there were many-they had proven to be beautiful and loving fathers.

Though it was hard to admit, Kanto was also right in his assessment of her character. Toph was not the kind of woman to cuddle or sing lullabies. She was never a loving or nurturing person like Katara. Toph was loud, Toph was crude and she was all hard earth and rocky edges. She never had that ache or longing to have a tiny soul of her own to care for. The idea strangled her like a noose her neck. She could never give up her hard-fought independence and freedom-not until she drew her very last gasp of air. Then there was the unavoidable fact her job could steal her life at any moment.

What kind of life would that be for a child-a father was never around and never cared, and a mother who could be taken away at any time, and with a soul too hard to truly love?

No. Children had never been and would never be in the picture for her. Toph would be content with being the fun-loving Aunt who spoiled the children, wreaked havoc, filled their blood with all their sugar their hearts desired and vanish.

And yet… with each passing child her friends had a hole grew in her heart and only got bigger and bigger. It was dark, empty and dead. The only way that vast, frozen hole could begin to heal was if she was holding her friends’ children or heard them laugh. Only then would she feel a spark deep within her soul, something that made her want to never let go of the warmth in her arms. She wanted to be surrounded by that ecstatic, heartwarming laughter. She craved those little hands pawing at her face or their warm weight against her chest.

Toph was only 31, and Kanto was 32. There was still a chance….

Toph shook those thoughts out of her head and buried them deep in the depths of her soul. She mindlessly pulled down the hem of her shirt before turning to face Kanto. Her lips were parted in a tight, waxy smile.

“You got that right fancy pants!” Toph chirped. Kanto beamed back at her, oblivious to the war raging in her head. Toph strode forward slowly, her hips swishing in the sunlight. She took his thin, soft face in her cores. They stared deep into each other’s eyes; one pair a sunny hazel and one pair a clouded emerald. He snaked his arms around her waist and tugged her close to his chest.

“You’re all I ever need Toph.” Kanto breathed, sliding his hands up and down the dip of her waist and her hips. Despite her screaming thoughts and the ever-growing hole in her heart, Toph dug her nails into her hair and pressed his lips against hers. She refused to move until her lungs were weeping for air, praying that he would be enough to fill that ugly hole.

It only felt colder and painfully bitter as Toph went back into the sunlight.

[shhhlikeme]

“Losty Aone” / “Losty Mountain Man🏔” Series:

Outtake Collection #7:

TALKING STAGE OUTTAKES (Right Before Series’ Part 1)

———————————

A/N: sooooooo. Prepare for the feels in this collection. Tumblr said it was too long because I have too many paragraphs—bye🙄 so this will be 7 and next will be 7.5. Please keep in mind they are apart of the same collection as they work well together. I strongly recommend to listen to “Always Be My Baby” By Mariah Carey for the entire read, but if repetition annoys you then just do it for the last outtake in 7.5 which is the confession. It tied for the most fluff votes. If anyone is up and reading this hopefully the next part will be up by the time you finish.

This outtake starts off funny and fluffy but ends angsty, serious and I dont wanna spoil. Fluffville Af, but maybe a bit of a rollercoaster. I poured a lot of heart into this collection, though, so I hope you enjoy it:

‼️THIS IS THE 11TH PART IN A SERIES READ THE OTHER PARTS BEFORE THIS ONE: ‼️

TABLE OF CONTENTS

———————————

One Day After You Noticed Aone and This Baby Doesn’t Know How ACT ☀️💋

“Hello?”

Futakuchi answered his cell phone grumpily as he half-slept.

“Futakuchi. It is Aone.”

Kenji rolled onto his back, wiping his fallen bangs out of his face. “I know. You’re the only person who calls me at 4am. Did you have another wet dream about Y/N?”

“No.” Mountain man answered hurriedly, but then he faltered. “Well, um, actually—yes—and Y/N looked phenomenal...—But that’s not the reason I’m calling this time.”

Futakuchi yawned. “You know, I miss the days back in elementary school when you’d call me because you had a bad dream ... hah....remember Monster Twoosie that lived in your closet?”

Sitting up on his bed, Aone whipped his head to the right to look at his closet. Getting up to close the closet door, he scolded his friend.

“We don’t speak of him, Futakuchi-san.”

Kenji let out a tired laugh. “What is this about then? I thought you’d sleep like a baby knowing that Y/N has finally noticed you.”

Aone returned to his bed, covering his legs under his camouflage blanket. “I’m extremely happy. I can’t stop thinking about her approaching my desk and smiling at me throughout lunch and her taking my phone to put her number in it. It’s not a daydream anymore and it’s just.......” he raked his brain for the word.

“A lot?”

Aone was happy he didn’t need to speak in full sentences to a best friend who could practically read his mind.

“A lot for me, yes, thank you Kenji-san. Usually, when two people are starting to get to know eachother, there is interest on both ends and they just work their way up from there.”

“But there is attraction on both ends for you and Y/N.”

“No. I already know she is the girl for me, and Y/N just figured out who I was yesterday. We are in a very unconventional position.”

“Yes but she’s also the most lost individual—aside from you—that I have ever met, so, what’s your point?”

“How do I get her to like me back?”

“Aone, just be yourself. A lot of girls already like you.”

“I don’t care about the other girls, I care about Y/N. I’ve been myself the past 2 years and she has never even noticed me, so clearly that does not work.”

“Y/N hasn’t noticed anyone, Aone-san.... ask her to name all her teachers I bet she can’t”

“She noticed the outfielder on the baseball team....”

“Right—she noticed that he was a tool. And I won’t let you conveniently forget that he approached her—which you refused to do for two years.”

“That is.............................a fair analysis.”

“Anyway, like I said, just be yourself. If Y/N doesn’t like you then she doesn’t deserve you anyway. Serves her right for being a bimbo the past two years....”

“Kenji-san....” Aone warned in a frightening voice. He hated when anyone had anything bad to say about his crush.

Kenji just laughed through his fatigue because he knew that warning was coming.

“I digress. Now as far as being yourself goes, for starters......how was your texting convo tonight?”

Mountain man was confused.

“Texting.......conversation?”

Kenji’s tired eyes flew open, stunned.

“Y/N gave you her number. She put it in your phone. That’s what you said.”

Aone grunted in agreement.

“So you didn’t text her?!”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

“Holy fuck Aone I’m seriously gonna—“

“There.” Mountain man interrupted his friend.

HUH?! Kenji now felt like he’d just seen Monster Twoosie, because his entire body paled. He spoke slowly as to not lose it:

“Aone.....What do you mean by...............................................there?”

“I just texted Y/N.”

“AT 4 O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING ?!?!?!?!”

Kenji yelled so loudly his parents screamed at him to go to sleep before they take away his tv. He quickly quieted down.

“What did you text her?!”

Aone paused, retrieving the message. He read it aloud: “Good morning, Y/N.”

Futakuchi groaned loudly, gripping his bangs on top of his head.

“I am gathering that I should not have done that?”

Kenji groaned again in response. “No, but I did tell you to be yourself. We’ll see how Y/N feels about you being yourself.”

🏫 AT SCHOOL 🏫

“Aone!”

Mountain man was collecting books from his locker, Kenji next to him leaning on the next locker, when he heard his name being called by his favourite voice ever. The middle blocker looked over in the direction of the voice and gulped.

Kenji nudged him. “Be yourself.” He whispered before you approached.

Aone couldn’t get used to you actually noticing him. He fantasized about it so much when you’d call your cheer friends name, that it just seemed so surreal now that you were actually calling him. On top of that, you looked so beautiful today. (You may have tried a bit more this morning for him) in your school uniform, light but perfect makeup, and a bright smile.

When Aone heard your voice call his name he had to fight back a deep blush because it brought him back to his dream last night where you were calling his name like that—only it was much more breathy and the two of you were in much more.....intimate circumstances.

“Hi, Y/N.” the blonde managed to say as he looked down at you. “You look beautiful today.”

Beside him, Kenji cringed and looked away. He couldn’t imagine being such a simp.

“Aw, thanks!” You beamed. “I just wanted to say thank you so much for that sweet good morning text. When I woke up to it, it completely brightened my day!”

Hidden behind the locker, Kenji’s jaw dropped.

Aone’s heart tightened at your words. “You’re welcome.”

You smiled. “Would you like to have lunch together again today? My treat this time.”

You had no idea how much you made this man’s life by saying these things.

Aone nodded, blushing and unable to speak.

“Great. Can you come down here for a second?” You bent your index finger at him as to say come hither and this big blushy baby bent down to your level, confused.

With him now in reach you leaned in to press your soft lips on his cheek. “I forgot to do it yesterday, but that’s for defending me against that snitch Tsume. See you at lunch!” You skipped away to your next class happily.

Mountain man, on the other hand, was just completely out of commission.

Kenji’s eyes were very wide seeing the whole thing happen and he moved to the same side Y/N was just on. Grabbing his friends shoulder he pulled him up because he looked weird still frozen bending over to meet your height when you were gone.

“I guess Y/N likes you for who you are, Aone-san.”

Aone just stared in the direction you disappeared in. Your platonic peck on the cheek made him feel like he was floating.

“Let’s go, we have study hall.” Kenji patted his friend’s shoulder.

Aone called for him to stop, so Futakuchi turned back around.

“What’s wrong? What is it?”

“I don’t think my legs work anymore, Kenji-san.”

hahahahaha poor baby

Needless to say Kenji san was not impressed to have to wait at his best friend’s locker with him for 5 whole minutes until the shock of you kissing him wore off

You really affected the white-haired bb even when you ignored him so Kenji wasn’t that surprised that this would happen

———————————

Weeks Into The Talking Stage - The Date Tech Boys Attend Katana’s Big House Party! 🥤🎉

“I swear to God if Katana doesn’t leave me alone tonight.......... You owe me, Aone-san.” States Futakuchi grumpily as him, Aone, and Kogenagawa shuffled out of their Uber. They stood in front of Katana’s huge cottage: lit up brightly with glow strobes and pictures of her taped up on the logs like a billboard in downtown Los Angeles.

“I appreciate you two for coming, sincerely. You are good friends.” Aone bowed to them.

Kanji bounced on the balls of his feet, the complete opposite visual of the crabby Justin Bieber look-alike.

“Oh no problem!!! I would have never been invited to a cheerleader’s party if you two weren’t my friends! Y/N inviting you to this is MASSIVE, Aone-senpai! I’m soooo happy I can experience this—hey! I think I see that hot cop cheerleader from before. Maybe she wants to thank me for my donations—!” The big boned setter started walking toward the party but Kenji gripped the back of his shirt, reeling him back in.

Kenji glared at his underclassmen.

“Must I warn you every time?! Play. It. Cool. Don’t stare at the birthday girl’s chest and for the love of God please leave the cop girl alone or we will never bring you to another party again.”

Pouting, Kogenagawa agreed, grabbing a red solo cup from a tray that a waiter was walking around with.

Aone grabbed it out of his hand before he downed it, all while scanning the crowd for his beautiful crush.

“No drinking. You’re underage.” Aone commanded, pouring it out in front of him.

“Right.” Kenji nodded.

The giant setter’s pout deepened. He crossed his arms at Aone.

“Thanks Mom.”

He then stuck his tongue out and Kenji.

“And thanks Dad. What would I do without you two? Besides HAVE FUN, of course!?”

“It scares me to even think about it....” Kenji murmured back, ruffling his setter’s hair who started freaking out because he worked hard on it.

Just then, Takanobu gasped a bit because he finally spotted you in the outdoor crowd on the porch. You were dressed in a long sleeve skin tight bodycon dress that showcased all your curves. And the dress was short. (If you remember correctly from his wet dream This man loooves short skirts on you.):

(You May or May not have chosen something a bit on the sexy side to get the attention of the boy you were starting to enjoy the company of.... and who you invited to be your date tonight—)

The look of you alone made Aone lick his lips and shuffle because had the air outside gotten 10 degrees hotter, randomly?

“Dowwwwn boy.” Kenji murmured when he realized his friend had spotted his crush and was very excited. He had that same look when he saw Y/N in that genie costume, and it was one of unadulterated, innocent, unidentified, lust.

“Aone, you can’t stare at Y/N like that anymore. She notices you now.”

Aone tried his very best and he was able to peel his eyes away from you and back to his best friend. “I wish it were easy.” He stated with a frown. “Especially when she looks like that.”

You were over with a group of popular kids, a red solo cup in your hand filled with red bull, chatting and adding to Katana’s stories when out of the corner of your eye you spot a tall white haired beauty on the outskirts, probably just getting here: Your date. Your heart skipped a beat as you interrupted the boy who was speaking to the group.

“He came, he’s here!!” You gripped Katana on the arm.

“Ow, Y/N!” Katana ripped your hand off her. She fixed the tiara on her head. “Of course he’s here, no man is dumb enough to deny a date with you, Y/N.” She returned to her conversation dismissively.

Kusa walked up the porch steps to give you and Katana hugs. She looked so beautiful!

“Looks like your man Aone brought Kenji-san too.” Kusa said to the two cheerleaders.

Katana almost did a spit take with the contents in her solo cup. Quickly, she scanned the crowd, seeing her ex, she now gripped onto your arm and pulled you through the crowd.

Soon you were faced with your mountain man, who looked amazing dressed in a sexy dark green, might you add. You rubbed the arm that Katana had just been gripping as you stood in front of them.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Aone asked, looking concerned as his eyes scanned your arm.

He is so flipping sweet!

You nod.

“I know that parties aren’t your thing so I wasn’t sure when I texted you an invitation. But.....you came,” you breathed a sigh of happy relief.

“You asked me to.” He responded, unaware of how romantic that sounded to you or anybody with ears.

He is so oblivious to how gorgeous he is, you thought.

Aone turned to look at your best friend briefly.

“Happy Birthday, Katana. This is from the three of us.” Aone handed Katana a card that had a hefty gift card inside of it to her favourite makeup store (Y/N’s idea after Aone sweetly asked what he should get her).

A/N: AONE IS HUMAN GOALS - DON’T @ ME.

“Kenji you got me a gift??? That is SO SWEET!”

Futakuchi rolled his eyes. “It’s from the three—“

“Come inside with me and I’ll open it!” Katana grabbed the volleyball captain’s hand and pulled him into the swarm of people, towards the house.

Aone almost felt bad bringing his friend to his clingy ex’s party because he needed him there—until he looked back down at you smiling up at him—after which he couldn’t feel anything else but happy even if he wanted to. You made him so unbelievably happy.

“Oh and Um, Y/N, I know this isn’t your birthday, but this is for you.” Aone handed you a card as well.

You hesitated, confused.

Blushing, Aone explained quickly, really hoping that his fight to get you this wasn’t going to make you think he was creepy. “I just thought that.... if we gifted Katana a Fenty Beauty gift card, she’d best enjoy shopping with you—her best friend. So I-I got you a gift card, t-too.” He finished sheepishly.

Bursting inside with butterflies, you gave your date a finger curl again, which he now knew meant to lean down so that you could kiss his cheek. This time you pressed your lips to his cheek a little longer than the last time, and although it was a sweet gesture, Aone felt the blood begin to rush down to his nether region.

You pulled away just in time.

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you, Aone.” You whispered in his ear.

Aone flushed, standing back up to his height hurriedly.

“My pleasure.” He replied shakily.

And was it ever. Because of Aone’s long brewed feelings for you, even your two simple kisses on his cheek kept him awake at night, sometimes recalling the way your soft and perfect lips felt as he showered in the mornings gripping his cock.

He was so happy to be given a chance it was like his increasing hormones and already strong romantic feelings were fighting for dominance now that you were physically interacting with him, albeit minimally.

For the past few weeks you two have been taking your budding friendship/romance incredibly slow, Aone too afraid to push further than you were willing to go, and for you: that just being the speed you take. You two spoke in class, had some lunches together, Aone offered to carry your books and walk you to cheer practice.... things like that. You were just getting to know eachother and you’d even let him take you out on a romantic dinner date last weekend. You always took it really slow with boys until you felt that they were important enough, which is why your ex-baseball player got frustrated with you last year. But that wasn’t Aone. He believes that he would gladly accept just this if that’s what you wanted, though he desperately wanted more. He wanted to call you his.

To you, everything was going extremely well and you were beginning to kind of start looking forward to seeing him in the halls at school as 3rd year rolled around. You may have an itsy bitsy crush on the volleyball player....but you didn’t know for sure. The most you two had ever done was kiss him on the cheek twice, which Aone was MORE THAN HAPPY with.

“You look so handsome, by the way, green is your colour.”

Aone looked away then, snapping out of his day dream about your kisses on his cheek but unable to relax when you complimented him. He couldn’t believe you were giving him all this attention. You were so perfect and someone as perfect as you didn’t choose guys like him.

Well, you hadn’t chosen him yet, Takanobu reminded himself sadly.

“Thank you, Y/N. And you look.....um.....w-well.........” His eyes fell to your mouth-watering curves in that dress. You could tell he very much liked your appearance.

You laughed, deciding to tease him.

“I look...’um?’ That bad, Aone-san? What? Tell me.” You poked his stomach, not dismissing the fact that his stomach was actually rock hard muscle.

Fuck.

Aone shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and pretend he hasn’t been crushing on you forever so he could speak clearly.

“No, not bad. Quite the contrary.” His face softened as he looked back at your face. “I’m trying to tell you in the most respectful way that you look......that you look like the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

On instinct, your face broke out into an ear splitting smile. Aone felt like he’d won the fucking lottery seeing you smile like that at him.

“Thank you, Takanobu! Care to enjoy the party with me?” You reached your hand out and the middle blocker just stared at it for a few seconds, still shook from your dazzling smile. Luckily, Kanji was still there so he pushed Aone inconspicuously from behind, allowing him to snap out of it and take your small hand in his large one.

Aone had to take a deep breath when you turned away to lead him into the crowd because the feeling of your hand in his made him feel utterly complete.

He was falling harder n faster than ever before.

And there were no brakes.

He just prayed you’d start falling, too, and soon.

———————————

taglist: @crushzone @galagcica @nairobiisqueen @chaichai-the-weeb

Part 7.5: CLICK HERE

[abduct-me-helen]

Class 108's Apocalypse Field Trip | Chapter 1.

The world ended on a Tuesday. Quite suddenly, halfway through class. After the sky split open and green light bathed the earth, things changed. Some lived.

Some didn’t.

Class 108 stayed together, for the most part. They took up a base in the school, and boarded up the windows and doors.

Sydney was the one who first learned they didn’t need to eat. Other revelations of that sort followed. Sleep was not needed, nor was water. Air seemed to be, though, as they learned after Cal passed out from holding their breath.

The first one to die was Cú.

They don’t talk about Cú.

-

Of course, some things are unavoidable in the end. Logically, Sydney knew it was only a matter of time before something managed to slip under the cracks and they’d all get killed; god knows they’d narrowly scraped by enough times to be considered cosmically lucky. Tabitha had been spreading rumors, as was her nature, about the school itself being sentient, trapping them inside with false promises of safety.

On the worse days, Sydney believed it.

Sydney stepped into the classroom slowly, craning her head to where Tabitha and Rosie were explaining their theories. She didn’t know which theories, but she’d heard most of them by now.

“G’morning.” She said.

It was night.

No, she thought, the sky is dark, but that doesn’t mean it’s night.

Rosie gestures towards a desk, and she avoids the chair toppled over at her feet as she sits down on top of it. She takes not of who else had decided to attend this “session” of theirs today. There are 12 students left out of the thirty who had originally made up the class. Ten of them had disappeared after running away from the school in shock after the eye in the sky had first opened. They hadn’t been in homeroom during the “blink,” which is what they’d taken to call the eye opening, and hadn’t seen any teachers since that day.

She remembered it vividly.

Ms. Bruis had tensed, eyes wide in shock, before telling them to calm down and stay indoors. She immediately went outside the room to check on everyone else.

That was the last time they’d seen Ms. Bruis, but not the last time they’d seen her face.

Besides the initial chaos, there wasn’t anything attacking the school. It was just shouting and screaming and running. Sydney had stayed in the classroom, clumsily trying to close the blinds on the window.

People just, left. And they didn’t come back.

The first venture was when they lost Cú. She doesn’t like to talk about him, never mind think about him. Nonetheless, her mind often drifts towards his death.

It was about four hours after the chaos. People had been nearly sucked out of the building, teachers included. The only ones that remained were the thirty students of 108.

Sydney didn’t know why they were the only ones to remain. She still doesn’t now.

The students decided to have a short party go out and scout. Sydney, Katie, Cú, Tabitha and Rosie. Four survived, one did not.

Rosie was always the thinker of the group, and as such she took the front. Katie was chosen for her seemingly nonchalant disposition to going, and Tabitha for her mind, which was always going too fast and often arriving at far-out conclusions. Despite this, she was a quick-witted person and had been selected for her dexterity and speed. Cú was selected for his physicality. He was a teddy bear, but a strong teddy bear.

It didn’t save him in the end.

And Sydney, well, she was cautious. She wonders if she could’ve saved Cú if she’d been just a little bit wearier.

They wandered a few blocks before hearing the sound of skin and bone splitting. Tabitha immediately ran toward the sound, as was her nature. The rest, Rosie at the lead, followed, hiding behind a corner.

Katie didn’t make a face, but even she was visibly pale.

When the sound came again, louder, and a creature made of wet flesh and twisted muscle stepped out of the alleyway, she became practically white.

Sydney retched. She’s not ashamed to admit it, you would’ve too. Anyone would’ve retched if they saw that sight.

It got worse.

“Hello?! Someone! Help me, please!”

It was Ms. Bruis-no, it looked like Ms. Bruis.

Cú ran. He dodged the creature, running to Ms. Bruis and starting to try to pick her up off the ground, before he noticed she was rooted to the cement. His eyes widened as blood ran down her face

She smirked.

Sydney will always remember the flash of teeth before she plunged her hand-no, her claw-into his stomach. He made a choked sound before the creature bounded back over and ripped his jaw clean off.

They ran. They ran. They ran.

And then they came back to the classroom, and they wept.

There were more expeditions after that. They lost seven more after that, but in those ventures, they collected knowledge. This knowledge went on Rosie’s list, though it also doubled as a rulebook.

-

THE LIST

1. Some creatures can make copies of people you know in order to trick you. They don’t bleed, so your best shot at not meeting eyeball daddy up close is to yeet the fuck outta there//bold of you to assume I don’t want to meet eyeball daddy uwu//

2. Don’t trust meat. Ever. Meat comes alive. WE ARE VEGANS IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2018(?)

3. Don’t answer the door, even if you’re armed. No, Eric, we do not count your big muscles™ as a weapon.

4. If you MUST answer the door, don’t. You have been stopped.

5. A short section on the happenings of the places(?) known to us as “nightmares.”

Nightmares trap humans in these crazy places. We’ve only seen two, but they are extremely dangerous, and both encounters ended in casualties. They trap your mind and make you experience terrible things, and like the rest of the world (to our knowledge at least) don’t follow normal time or space rules. Basically, if you want to avoid a ,’ , |,’_’, you should not screw with that shit.

6. Always check with someone else before eating or drinking. Sometimes, your mind will play tricks on you and you won’t notice that you’re eating something…not good. Honor cal for their sacrifice regarding this matter (sorry cal)

7. Always shut the blinds. Eyeball daddy is watching you//YOU DID NOT NEED TO SAY THAT TABITHA

8. Don’t leave the building without consulting all of class 108.

9. Don’t read books that others haven’t read first, especially if it says it’s from the library of Jurgen LeitnerSTUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING JURGEN LEITENER GOD DAMN FOOL BOOK COLLECTING DUST EATING RAT OLD BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIO//yes, Riko, we get it, but good point. Be Jared, 19.

10. Don’t invite anyone in.

-

“What are we on today?” Sydney asked.

“Tabitha’s on about the categories again.” Cal said.

“I really think it could work!” she said loudly. “Look, there’s consistencies in every single encounter we’ve had. Think about it. Remember what happened at the theater?”

Katie grimaced silently. “How could we forget?”

Tabitha ignored her. “The webs. Spiders and the rest of those insects are different categories. The wriggly silver worms are more like, bugs and wriggly things and judging from the infestation we had they all work together.”

“Like a hive?” Cal asked.

Tabitha nodded. “Exactly like that. Spiders are different though; you saw how many were crawling about during the amphitheater incident. And that whole thing was about control. All those people who were laughing…they, they were there. They didn’t want to do it! They didn’t want to laugh, you saw their eyes. They were being controlled. And when,” she paused, gritting her teeth, “and when Marcy died she was being controlled too. Puppeted.”

That’s two. Then we come to the next one, guns and murder and war and shit like that. Simple enough. But I think it has to be humans killing humans, because the thing that killed, killed Cú wasn’t like that. It was, it was different. I don’t know. I’ll get back to that.

“Then we have the cover up, or the anonymous things. Things like those little creatures that hide in your plates that you can’t notice are there until someone tells you. That’s why I’m confused, because I think the weird fleshy creature we faced was aligned with that but also with those meat things that broke Rosie’s leg. I don’t know how to explain it, but, ah. Sorry. I think they’re the same category.”

“I’ll humor you; can a thing be two categories?” Katie questioned her dully.

“I think so. Maybe it’s like colors? Really angry colors. They’re all separate, but the same because they’re all made of the same stuff. And they all blur together sometimes?”

“Yeah,” Katie snorted, “we’re being killed by really angry colors.”

Tabitha flushed. “Hey! It was just an analogy.”

Rosie seemed to be considering what Tabitha had said, before she looked up. “I believe you.”

“Y-you do?” Tabitha blinked, taken back.

Rosie nodded. “It makes sense. Really angry colors.”

“Really angry colors.”

-

A few hours-well, time was weird, but Sydney supposed it was hours-later, the class was doing yoga. Well, not “yoga” per se. They were beating each other on the head with torn up yoga mats.

“Hey!” Riko shouted as Tabitha tripped over her mat while chasing Cal. “Watch it! This is where I sleep!”

Tabitha stuck her tongue out and Katie snorted, not looking up from her book. Sydney wondered how she did that; Katie always seemed to have an astounding amount of situational awareness at all times.

“Real mature.” Katie groused.

Tabitha grinned, and Rosie smiled softly.

“I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU MEET EYEBALL DADDY!” she shouted to Cal, who’s eyes widened in mock fear.

“Oh no! The horror! OwO!” They said dramatically.

“Did they just say “OwO”?” Sydney asked in a deadpan. Rosie nodded solemnly.

“You ever wonder…” Sydney trailed off, the muffled shouting of their peers drowned out into the background.

“Wonder what?” Rosie tilted her head in question.

“What happened to Mr. Sims.”

“He’s probably…not with us anymore.”

“Yeah. Still, could you imagine? He was a bloody cryptid. He’d probably take all this with no sweat.”

“Maybe he’d give us concerts too.”

“Good ole Jonny D’Ville.”

Rosie snickered.

“You know how he always drew eyes everywhere? During tests?”

“Oh god, don’t mention that to Tabitha, I don’t need her going on about another conspiracy.”

Sydney grinned to herself and Rosie groaned.

“Well, I was thinking, maybe it was an omen.”

“An omen?”

“Yeah. I’ve never been spiritual really, but the worlds gone to shit so who knows what’s real. Maybe the Mayans were just a few days off.”

“Ah, the apocalypse calendar.”

“Indeed.”

-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

A noise rang out from the entrance to the school, loud and imposing. Sydney’s heart started to thump wildly in terror.

They all shot up, and Katie got her switchblade out from her pocket. She was lucky enough to have it on her at the blink, and it was their best weapon.

Cypress shot inside the classroom silently, eyes wide, red curls bouncing. He clicked the door shut quietly, pale. “The others sent me. They’re hiding in place. I think we should just stay put.”

Rosie nodded, gesturing him to come over. She placed a finger over her lips in order to get them to stay silent, then nodded to Katie. Katie had always been gifted with really good hearing, and it had saved their assess more than enough times for Rosie to know that letting her try to hear who was at the door was the best safe bet for situation and the time being.

Katie closed her eyes, but after a quarter of a minute shook her head.

That’s when they heard it.

“Hello!”

Sydney brought a hand to her mouth to clamp down a scream.

It was Cypress.

Eyes wide, she glanced over to Cypress, her Cypress, who’s expression was now glazed over. Was his skin always that waxy? Why was his hair so smooth? It looked like that of a dolls, curls made of softly bent plastic.

Katie saw the flicker of light before she saw the blade, and she lunged.

Her switchblade pierced his skin-no, his stuffing, with a sound akin to ripping a toy. It didn’t seem to stop this not-Cypress.

Oh god, Sydney thought, today is the day I die.

There was a sound like static now in the air, and the faint smell of burning. Sydney began to feel sick, almost lightheaded.

The door swung open, and Sydney whipped her head around to see Cypress, who was trailed by…Mr. Sims?

[just-the-daydreamer]

Too much

By @just-the-daydreamer for @ferretshark 

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter Paker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, FRIDAY (Marvel), May Parker (mentioned)

Summary: 

“I-I think it’s a sensory overload. I don’t know what caused it. Everything is just, too much!” Peter managed to grit out, hands still locked in place over his ears. They weren’t really helping him filter out the sound, but it gave him something to focus on.

OR

Peter wakes up with a sensory overload and Tony is there to help him out.

Ao3 link (Doesn’t work yet)

Taglist:

@paradoxicalblueberry @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @aatticsaltt @marvel-us-world @tony-wheres-my-supersuit @sketchydragonscales @baloobird @a-l-ias @spideynamu @troubledpixel @irondad-is-cannon-bitch

Hi! I really hope you enjoy this!! I tried to keep the whump to a minimum and tried my best at Protective Tony! I hope you like it!

Peter’s head was pounding. He’d only woken up a few minutes ago but he was sure that it was not going to be a Good Day. The fabric of his shirt was rubbing against him in a way that seemed to burn and the blanket felt even worse. The only reason Peter even kept the blanket was to hide himself from the light. It was burning his retinas. 

His alarm clock suddenly went off and the shrill ringing was even more painful than the light. His hand shot out from under the blanket and switched it off before yanking his arm back underneath. He groaned quietly after remembering that he had a math test and he couldn’t skip school, even though his body was begging him to. 

Dragging his body out of bed was one of the most difficult experiences he had ever dealt with as Peter Parker. Usually, the painful stuff was left for Spiderman to deal with. Somehow, Peter managed to get ready for school, wearing the comfiest clothes he owned. 

Forcing his legs to move, Peter made his way to the kitchen to grab the lunch he had prepared yesterday evening. He snagged a few nutrition bars to eat along the way. They would, hopefully, keep his energy up until lunch. 

The commute to school was awful, being in a compact area pressed up against countless other people was nauseating. Peter stumbled out of the carriage and made his way to the gates, head still spinning from the journey. He staggered into his homeroom seat and as soon as his bag was off, he rested his head against the cool table for some relief. 

“Peter? Are you okay?” Ned leaned across his table to whisper his question in Peter’s ear. 

“I’m fine. Just a headache.” He replied, stringing the least amount of words together to suffice Ned’s worrying. 

“It doesn’t look like ‘just a headache’ to me. Should you even be at school?” Ned continued to press the issue, unaware of how Peter truly felt. 

Peter turned his head to whisper, eyes still closed, “I’m fine, Ned.” Before continuing to rest his head against the table. 

Ned backed off after that. It was a small mercy which Peter was grateful for. He just hoped that everyone else would leave him alone. 

-

The misshapen, paper ball hit its target once again. The target being the back of Peter’s head. It was really irritating him and he was already in a bad mood. It seemed his senses had become even more sensitive and now he couldn’t block out anything. The longer the day went, the worse he felt. It was a mistake coming into school but any more missed days and Peter would’ve faced disciplinary action. 

His original plan was just to keep his head down, hood up and try to focus on blocking everything out but that plan was soon scrapped after getting told to take his hood off. His new plan was to tough it out until after the maths test and go home, saying he was sick. Less than an hour in and Peter was just about ready to leap out of the window and go home anyway. 

Flash had been getting extremely on his nerves today and Peter didn’t have the energy to do anything about it. He was really regretting not sleeping in now. 

As the lesson continued to drag on, Peter’s head began to hurt even more. The fluorescent lights were piercing his eyes, even when he had them closed. The thumping sound of his classmates’ heartbeats surrounded him and their droning chatter was vibrating in his ears. He could smell the wood shavings from someone’s pencil and the food in people’s bags, all mixing together to form a repulsive odour that only he could smell. His clothes brushed against his skin and its touch was the worst sensation he could have felt. He couldn’t imagine how much worse it might have been if he hadn’t chosen comfy clothes that morning but he didn’t really want to think about it. 

The bell rang and the sound of thousands of feet shuffling and stomping against the ground was all that Peter could hear. The ringing was still echoing through his eardrums and the noise of the people’s conversations and their shoes squeaking on the floor was too much. 

He wanted to tear his ears off, the world was so loud. His hands instinctively moved towards his ears, trying to block out as much noise as he could but the vibrations still made their way to his overwhelmed eardrums. It was so loud it felt like his brain was rattling in his skull. 

His fingers were still clamped over his ears when he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder. Judging from their grip, Peter assumed it was Ned. Peter opened his eyes, not even realising that he had closed them at any point, to find an empty and blindingly bright room and Ned behind him. 

“Okay, what’s going on, Peter? Don’t lie to me and tell me you’re fine.” Ned said with a firm tone. He removed his hand from Peter’s shoulder and crossed his arms, looking (rightfully) displeased. 

“I-I think it’s a sensory overload. I don’t know what caused it. Everything is just, too much!” Peter managed to grit out, hands still locked in place over his ears. They weren’t really helping him filter out the sound, but it gave him something to focus on. 

“Look, I think you should go see the nurse. Maybe she’ll let you go home or she might be nice and let you sleep it off. Either way, I really think that you shouldn’t be in school today.” Ned’s voice was softer this time, lower in volume. It wasn’t much but it gave him the slightest amount of relief. 

“Can’t go home. Got a maths test. May’s at work, too." 

"Oh my gosh, Peter! You can’t seriously believe that you’ll be able to take a maths test when you can’t even stand up right now and get a good score! You can retake the test another day - Mrs. Davis loves you anyway so just take the day off.” The teen softly exclaimed, astonished at the stupidity of his best friend. 

“I don’t wanna make a scene, Ned." 

"I think you already made a scene when the bell rang and you were still sitting here with your hands over your head. Plus, I’m already late to my next lesson so I might as well have a proper excuse.” And with that, Ned hauled Peter out of his seat, careful not to irritate him too much. He grabbed his friend’s bag and threw it over his shoulder before hovering around Peter in case his knees buckled. 

-

A painful couple of minutes later, the duo arrived outside the nurses office. Ned was already 10 minutes late so he just stayed with Peter and explained the situation to the nurse. He was already late, why not help his friend out while he’s there? 

Peter’s details were taken and May was called but the nurse was obviously disappointed that she didn’t pick up.

Even though they’d already said she was at work.

So, Peter’s second emergency contact was called and it went about as well as Ned would’ve imagined. 

“Hello? My name is Susan Lee and I’m calling on behalf of Peter Parker. Is this Mr. Stark?" 

"This is him, yes. Is Peter okay-" 

"He’s feeling a bit ill. He has a headache and he says he feels sick. His aunt didn’t pick up the phone so we had to call you. Is it alright for you to pick him up?" 

"I’ll be there soon, thanks for calling me.” The phone cut off with a beep and Miss Lee set the phone down softly on the desk. 

The nurse whirled around towards Ned and raised a shaky finger at his face. With wide eyes she questioned, “There is no way that was Tony Stark! How does” - she pointed her finger towards a pale and unresponsive Peter instead - “ that boy know Tony Stark?!”

Honestly, Ned was slightly impressed at how calm she had been while talking to a literal celebrity. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t unnerved by her accusing finger. He backed away from her slightly, shifting his gaze between her concentrated gaze and Peter, who was collapsed against a table by his chair. 

“He interns for Stark Industries! I think he’s Mr. Stark’s personal intern!" 

"There is no way Stark Industries hires high school interns!” She pressed, hand slowly sinking into her lap. 

“Don’t shoot the messenger! If you don’t believe me, why don’t you just wait and see? Mr. Stark said he’s coming to pick Peter up anyway so you’ll see him then!” Ned tried to placate her but he wasn’t sure if she would listen or not. It was quite intimidating to be honest, Miss Lee was always a nice nurse so this side of her was kind of terrifying.

Ned checked on Peter, saying his 'get wells’ and goodbyes one more time before turning to leave. He was late enough, and he didn’t need to be there for Mr. Stark’s arrival. 

-

Tony burst into the school with an air of calm disguising his worry. Peter was never one to just get a headache and go home, so either he was hiding an injury or something worse had happened. 

When he opened the door, the first thing he could see was a head of curly brown hair slumped against a small table adjacent to a row of chairs. His thinly veiled calmness almost shattered there and then but he managed to hold it together to turn to the nurse and sign some papers, muttering something about taking Peter home. 

Tony truly had no idea what he had said, he felt like he was in a haze, but whatever it was, it seemed to work and he gathered Peter’s things before turning to said teen. 

He crouched down in front of him and ran a calloused hand through the boy’s sweaty hair. 

Tapping the side of his face he whispered to the teenager. “Hey, Pete. A little birdie told me you weren’t feeling too hot today. You wanna get outta here?" 

A small nod was given in response and that was all that Tony needed to help Peter up and walk them out the school gates. 

-

The drive back was… painful to say the least. Tony tried to drive as fast as he could back to the Tower but Peter was in pain the entire time. It killed him to see the kid in so much pain but there was nothing he could do at that point. He’d already given Peter his sunglasses which seemed to help a little and the kid had already grabbed some soundproof headphones from his bag, but even then he could still hear sounds. 

The kid had also explained briefly that he was having a sensory overload, which was something that Tony could deal with. At the Tower.

On the road, however? Not so much. 

When they finally reached the elevator, FRIDAY took them straight up to Tony’s personal floor. 

As soon as the doors opened, Tony whispered, "Protocol Bedtime.” Immediately the lights went off and Tony guided a much more relaxed Peter towards his room, through muscle memory alone. 

He had Peter change out of his clothes and put on something softer to wear to sleep. He wasn’t really sure what to do to help Peter, but some rest seemed like a good idea. Hopefully, he’d be able to sneak away and build something to block out input. 

Forcing Peter to lie down, Tony closed the curtains in his room and sat down on the mattress next to where the young adolescent laid. 

“You feeling better, kiddo?” Tony whispered at what he hoped was a suitable volume. 

“Um, yeah. Yeah everything’s great.” Peter fidgeted under the covers. 

“You sure? Because if there’s anything I can do just say the word, it’ll be done.”

“Erm, yeah, there’s-there’s this one thing. It’s really embarrassing though and- actually it’s fine don’t worry about it.” Peter decided, pulling the covers over himself and looking away from Tony’s gaze. 

“Come on, kiddo. Spit it out. I want to help you. I bet it’s not even that embarrassing. What is it? You need the toilet but I tucked you in too well?” Tony replied with a small smile, hoping he could get Peter to talk. 

“Wi-will you stay?” Peter asked, tentatively, glancing back at Tony. 

The billionaire’s eyes softened as he glanced at the kid- his kid. He would do anything for this kid and his heart was bursting with so much love for him. He wouldn’t admit it though. He had a reputation to keep. 

“Of course I’ll stay. Scoot over would you?” Tony slipped his shoes off and sat under the covers with Peter who’d moved away from the centre of the mattress. 

Peter immediately moved closer to his mentor, until his head was against his hip. Peter rolled on his side to face Tony and he closed his eyes, taking relief in his father figure’s presence. Tony didn’t say anything, just placed his hands in Peter’s curls and began untangling the knots that had formed. He didn’t know if it would help Peter, but his blissful expression said everything. Tony stayed with him, carding his fingers through Peter’s soft hair, until he was sure that the teen had fallen asleep. Trying to be as silent as possible, Tony extracted himself from the bed and slipped his shoes on before exiting the room. 

He headed down to the lab and told FRIDAY to notify him when Peter woke up. He left a message for May, explaining what had happened and that Peter was okay. Then he got to work. 

-

“Boss, Peter has woken up.” FRIDAY helpfully informed him a few hours later.

“Thanks, FRI. I’ll be up there soon." 

Tony made his way up to his floor, some sleek earphones in hand. Opening the door softly, he poked his head through the door and looked to see a half asleep Peter sitting up, his hair wild and sticking out. A soft chuckle was heard from Tony as he opened the door completely and walked inside, heading towards the confused hero. 

"What’s happening?” Peter’s voice was scratchy and raw. 

“You had a sensory overload. You hungry?” Tony replied, setting the earphones down on Peter’s lap. 

“What’re these?” Peter asked, turning them over in his hands. 

“Earphones. Hopefully, they’ll block out the worst of the sounds when you’re in public. I made them small so you can wear them in class and still hear what’s going on without being overwhelmed.” Tony replied with a shrug. 

Suddenly, he had an armful of Peter who was holding on tightly to the billionaire. Tony smiled and after a few moments he returned the hug, gripping the kid just as tight. 

When they finally separated, Tony started to tame the boy’s hair, smoothing it down. “I asked you a question earlier. You hungry?” Tony said, his lips quirking up into a smile. 

“Starving. I was gonna go home at lunch after I had my math test but…” he trailed off, looking bashfully at his father figure. 

All Tony could do was laugh at his stupidity. His kid had no common sense. “What am I going to do with you, kiddo?" 

"Make me a grilled cheese sandwich?” Peter replied, voice hopeful. 

“Sure. Let’s go.” Tony snorted, pulling Peter up and leading him into the kitchen. The billionaire pulled him into a one-armed hug while they made their way into the kitchen. 

He couldn’t hide his grin when Peter leaned closer.

[kryptsune]

I have a Confession... {Red X Frisk Drabble}

FRANS WEEK 2020 // Day 1: Confession

>>Day 2

@fransweek

🌼So a little bit about this. I am planning on doing Frans week this year that said I also don’t want to stress myself out. I have a sketch that I am working on that combines a few of the prompts but I still wanted to do something for day one so here is Underworld Red and Frisk after her run. Frans is so important to me so it is nice to post this kind of content again. 

If you are currently reading Underworld there are a couple of spoilers within this that have yet to show up in the fic. I actually have decided to write this out instead because I am currently editing and getting feedback on the latest chapter which I plan to get up today at some point. If not it is going to be tomorrow. This scene is not canon to Underworld btw angst ahead.

===========================

She had yanked her hand away yelling only for him to become a little overly aggressive. It had slipped her mind as she shook from his actions. His boney almost claw-like fingers dug into her skin causing a blossom of blood to form and trickle down her arm. He had released her when he didn’t realize his own strength but it was too late.

 Her ears rang with his shouts as she ran clutching her arm. Her legs brought her to the only place she found solace. A small little place in Waterfall. She collapsed next to the glowing blue stream shivering as if the very ground she now rested was but ice. When she looked down at her arm, the wound was nowhere to be seen. 

That only meant that her mind had started to decay and old horrors were spilling out. Did he even grab her? Her eyes filled with tears as she placed her shaking hand against her lips. What was real? What was fake? She knew that he loved her but this. She was sure she looked at him with horror swimming in those cobalt depths. The fear was undeniable and he had done nothing to deserve it. How could you ever love someone that saw the shadow of your former self-overlaid over the present? Was she a hypocrite? She told him that she forgave him and yet her mind was wrought with rot. It’s decay slowly creeping deeper and deeper into her mind. The ghosts of the past haunted her even to the extreme of physical sensation. What were you supposed to trust? 

She closed her eyes leaning forward in defeat. Her age was in its prime. A young woman with so much life to live and yet this disease had slowly consumed her sanity and with age, it would only devour what was left of the present. She couldn’t put him through that. It would break her heart. She didn’t deserve him not after that. At that moment her heart began to break. She loved him so much that his happiness went beyond her selfishness. He was better off finding a monster to be with than her. She would get old, her condition would become worse, and he would be tied to a human with such a short life in comparison to his own. It was the way it truly had to be. No amount of apology could ever fix what she had just done even if it was not in her proper state of mind.

She just sat there staring blankly into the water only to hear a small noise off to the side. It was him. It was near impossible for her to truly be alone when he was able to track her down so easily. Even when he approached she refused to raise her head to look at him, “I’m sorry…” She nearly choked on her next set of words as they passed her wavering lips, “We can’t be together. I…. I can barely control myself any longer. All I see is the worst part of you when…” 

The tears began to form as she tried to stop herself, “I know there is so much I love. I…I don’t even deserve you. I want to love you and keep you close to me but I fear I am losing my mind. I see things past and.“ She was cut off as she screwed her eyes shut only whimpering a few chosen words, "I’m so sorry I yelled…. That I ran… I don’t know what is wrong with me anymore.”

Physical ailments could be treated with simple medication or rest but the mind is a complex beast. Just as it’s physical appearance depicts it is a maze that one could be trapped in for all eternity with no hope of escape. She was shaking and nearly on the cliff of a panic attack. What would he say? 

 All she felt was gentle arms wrapping around her from behind cradling her in that warm embrace. How could he even look at her let alone touch her? All she could hear was that soft twinkle of chimes that made Waterfall so unique. He loved her, cared for her, and comforted her. He was her best friend and now someone she couldn’t imagine being without. His silence only led to soft gestures like the wiping of tears, a soft squeeze, and a small smile. He didn’t need words to tell her how he felt. When the silence finally broke she was staring up into those red eyes. One that used to frighten her but now drew her in with that brilliant ruby hue.

He knew what it was like to lose your mind as his father had made sure of it. The monster he once was and the one she had met were like doppelgangers and though those traits from his past had returned he still struggled with the one thing that stained his very being. The very thing that had nearly torn half the Underworld apart with its aggression and madness. To see her go through the same pains hurt his soul. 

He had learned to control his and yet hers only seemed to become worse. He feared one day she would harm herself due to some demon that crept into her mind. Take that pain away... that was all that he wanted for her. Even her outbursts could never change how much he loved her. Even if she tried to pull away he would always pull her back. He had done this to her and so he deserved what he was getting.

 He only threaded his fingers through her hair gently combing through the auburn strands, “Why would ya ever think I’d be mad at ya?” He had been working tirelessly for weeks trying to improve her mental condition and yet no amount of magic could fix her wounds, “Ya don’t deserve me? Sweetheart, ya got it backward. I did this ta ya and I’m sorry. I wish I could take it all back er’… erase all tha bad but I can’t. You could yell at me fer tha rest of yer life… I will never leave ya.”

 He just held her praying to someone, anyone that one day those demons would be purged from her mind even if that meant he had to be out of the equation. She deserved better and though he loved her with his every breath he could not deny that he was only causing her more pain. He could feel her small frame shuddering as she sobbed, “Shhhh I gotcha.”

It was ironic considering the place she had chosen to escape to. It was a special place for both of them. It did not look like much but this was the place where his once cold and ruthless soul had been soothed. No amount of words or magic could do what her warm smile had or just that sparkle of hope and love in her eyes. It was the moment he realized he had been horribly wrong about the seemingly fragile human girl sitting beside him and how much of the term monster he had become.

 A truly awful horrible demon of a skeleton that didn’t deserve her angelic mercy. He had a difficult time living with his past actions drowning in a regret that not even time could cure. He remembered finding her trying to hold back tears as she wrapped her pale arms around herself. Seeing his handiwork in full display only for her to panic at his snooping. She explained that though time appeared broken for her that did not mean there were no consequences to such a thing. She called it a curse and rightfully so. Even as they sat in silence he could feel his thoughts shifting.

 That was the moment that changed everything. That was truly the moment that he realized just how special she was and how important she was to him specifically. He nearly cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. It was the same exact spot. The only difference was that he had no hesitation in his comforting of her. He wanted her to know that no matter what he would always be there no matter what she did because deep down a little of her hope had made its way into him. He would save her just like she had saved him all those years ago. She deserved happiness and he knew that for her that included him just as much. She had said so herself.

He closed his sockets just resting his mouth on the crown of her head before slowly raising it to speak clearly, “Ya saved everyone Sweetheart… now let me save you, alright?”

 He continued to hold her like the little fragile thing she was letting her feel that warmth and comfort. That loving embrace that would never leave her. She looked up at him now calmed by the soft words and warm cradle of his arms. It was a simple word one that might make another laugh at its absurdity, “Red…” 

Ah yes, the nickname. The very one that had been a joke in the past. A failed attempt at a kind of quip for his use of so many pet names for her. There was one that stood out among the rest, sweetheart. There was nothing as fitting as that one simple word for her. She had made a point about mocking his fashion sense and his unfortunate eye color saying that he should be nicknamed after the color he seemed to be drowned in but it was his.

 A name that proved that though he had become something he hardly recognized that was the person she had grown fond of and could call a friend. It was special even if to the untrained eye it would appear rather bland or foolish. When that word slipped past her lips his soul would thump in his chest skipping the nonexistent beat that filled what a heart would do.

 He stared into those blue eyes that were filled with so much love for him something he never thought he would ever deserve. No, no one could say that name like she could. She didn’t need to speak anymore he just swept her off her feet so they could once again return home. He would keep hope for a brighter future and one day all those grey clouds would give way to the most beautiful blue sky.

 She had already cleared away the storm for him now it was his turn to show her the true beauty of a night sky unhindered by a single cloud. A peace, love, and happiness unmatched and unequal to anything on this planet or under it.

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Thank you, everyone, for your continuous love and support. It truly means so much to me.

[thepineapplejuicer]

Imagine...Loki choosing you as his queen because of your understanding and talent of magic

Words: 1551

Warnings: extremely slight sexual mention. Mostly fluff

The violin orchestra livens up the room and the colors of the shimmering stained glass windows bounce off the golden drapes, sending the candlelit ballroom floor swirling like a kaleidoscope. The gem incrested chalices are filled to the brim with aged wine that stains the teeth of the guests, who are too busy foolishly laughing with rival families to notice. 

This gathering was for the eligible princesses, and their parents, of Asgard to be pinned against each other in beauty and skill to win the heart of Sir Loki and Sir Thor. The families of each royal tree thought it a great honor for their daughter to be chosen so they flocked to Odin’s castle to ensure their family place on the throne. 

You stood with incredible posture, burned into your spine by tedious balancing exercises. Your corset squeezed your small body, keeping your breathing slow and quiet while giving your form the most beautiful shape. Your eyes droop from the exhaustion of the journey and the slight sting in your kidneys. You listen to the girlish whispers gossiping about the princes and wondering about their interests, their fancies in a woman, and... more risque topics.

“I hear Thor is incredible in bed!” 

“No, I hear Loki is!”

You roll your eyes with grace as you try and tone out the inappropriate squeals of the princesses you once grew up with. 

“Would it kill you to smile, Y/N?” Your mother whispers while trying to keep her own well placed wrinkled smile. 

“No, but this corset might.” You groan, picking at the wire digging into your hip.

“Don’t you dare, that took all day to get you in.” You mother swats your hand, “Have you practiced what you are going to say?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Good, do not ruin this. Either one of the princes will do, so long as you act accordingly. And please, no magic. He can find out after the two of you wed.”

You sigh quiet enough so it sounds like you are only trying to breathe. Your magic had manifested as a child, but you were forced to keep it hidden- along with most of your personality- to assume the persona of the perfect bride. You always had a way of scaring off suitors; their fear of witchcraft was more powerful than their desire of your beauty. 

“All bow before the princes of Asgard.” A woman says as she leads the curtsy.

You feel like your ribs will snap if you move, so you hide behind another princess to shield your fake curtsy. 

Thor walks in first, smiling pridefully from all the attention and the women at his becking call. His long red cape is grazed by dark leather boots, seemingly fighting the urge to stomp on the fabric. 

Loki’s dark hair sways slightly, falling from behind his ears. His brow arches as he doesn’t really look at the women, but mostly at the spaces between them. His long green cape drags behind him, somehow evading all dust and grime. His long-horned helmet has been shinned and his thin armor looked painted on.  

The princes take their place in front of the young women who desperately try to catch so much as a glance from them. They all stand perfectly still as Thor and Loki walk around each of them; examining them like fine art, and appreciating each of their assets as someone enjoys the smell of sweet wine. 

Thor smiles at each of the ladies in order to gain their smile back and see them at their happiest. He stops at each one, dancing with them and thinking very intensely at his options. He knew that his future queen must be strong, beautiful and above all intelligent. 

Loki, on the other hand, hated this. The ladies looked to Thor instead of him. His broodish demeanor frightened them and made them self conscious enough to fix their hair or their dresses. He tried to smile as Thor did but always seem to time it when the ladies looked away. The way the princesses moved subtly towards Thor made Loki tighten his jaw, holding back his insecurities. He looks down, now drifting pointlessly between the women who wait for Thor to display their strengths and talents to him when he asks them for a dance.

Loki begins to walk towards you unknowingly, his mind somewhere else, until he stops, his chest nearly touching yours. “My apologies.” He whispers in a breath that smelled like hints of wine mixed in with licorice. “Think nothing of it, my prince.” you smile.

Loki smiles back, finally able to show a beautiful woman his true nature. It disappears just as quickly as Thor makes several young women giggle with joy. “I will... get out of the way.” He whispers as he sees Thor moving towards you.

“If I may be so bold, my prince. I’d rather you stayed.” You take Loki by surprise, but this does not scare him off. He wanted to ask you to dance as Thor did with the others, but his self-esteem was too low that he’d rather carry our conversation to break the ice. 

“What Family do you hail from?”

“The Andels, My Lord.”

“Ah yes, the Andels own mining land. We use some of their Ores for many things around the palace. You are their only child?” 

“Yes.”

“I’ve heard rumors that no one has ever been able to court you for long. Your beauty is unmatched, but I do not see why you still have not married.”

“My talent is... unconventional.”

“Oh? Might you show me?”

You look around the room at the parents lined near the wall, your mother trying to get a view of Loki’s reaction to you.

Loki turns and sees your mother’s performance, “Perhaps if we went somewhere private?”

You could not resist, something about Loki’s gentle nature that hides a fierce and deadly type of ecstasy, fascinates you.

You follow him to the balcony, away from the party, your mother close behind. You turn and see her mouth quietly, “No magic!” you tighten your grip, sending the glass doors to shut in a white and pale pink glow. 

Loki turns, alarmed by the sudden bang.

“Must have been the wind.” you shrug.

“Yes..” he trails off knowing very well that there is not even a breeze during this lovely sunset. “Is your father present tonight as well?”

You look away from Loki, “My father passed away some time ago.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It is alright. Many would prefer I not speak of him.”

“I remember the rumors. He was a sorcerer?”

“Yes, he duplicated most of the Ores in our mining caves to help stock neighboring kingdoms.”

“Why do I get the feeling you didn’t only inherit his kind nature?”

You hold your hands behind your back instinctively.

“Tell me. What do you think about being the queen of Asgard?”

“It is a great honor to-”

“No, no, I did not ask what your mother thinks.”

You clear your throat, “I think,” you decide to throw your script away. “I think that magic has been shunned enough in our lands and must be embraced, even taught to the children. It could be used as a line of defense or a way to teach our community how to socialize without the need of brutish force shown in the arenas.”

“An interesting view, not many people share.”

Loki shifts closer to you, pinning you carefully against the stone balcony. You press your hand on the stone, but wince as a rose thorn pricks your finger. Loki grabs your hand in his. His Ice-y cold touch shocking your fingers numb. A green flare strings around your wound and Loki brings your finger to his lips, laying a single kiss on it as the skin heals over.

“Not all magic is a curse...” It seems like he is saying this to himself rather than to you.

You can see the hurt in his eyes, perhaps he knew what it was like to be outcasted because of magical superiority. Perhaps he had the same aches and pains in your wrists from long periods of time without spell casting. Perhaps he knew the same look of fear others gave you.

You cup his hands in yours and allow the pale pink and glittery white magic to whisp like sand above his hands, letting him feel your power. You control it calmly and create a ballerina, twirling and leaping across his palms before curtsying. 

He looks at you with eyes filled with acceptance, something you’ve never seen. The ballerina takes a still form in your hands before a green shimmer of dust creates a small man dressed in the clothes of a prince, asking for her hand. The two small, magical figures dance across your palms, pieces of their ashy bodies thrown into the wind as they twirl. Finally, the pixelized figures mimic how you and Loki are holding hands, and the male figure cups the ballerina’s face, kissing her gently.

Loki looks up from the magic in your joined hands and stares deeply in your eyes.

He cups your cheek and snakes his fingers behind your neck, pulling you into a cold, gentle kiss.

“Asgard will be lucky to have you as its queen, Y/N.”

-Thank you for reading and your support.