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noras-ac-shenanigans · 2 years

Text

Assassins Creed/Stargate

crossover snippets

Again inspired by Esama on AO3, I just have a few bits of a story I wrote but don’t have the plot/motivation to finish. So on the low chance anyone wants to take what I’ve already written and use it, feel free! Just please credit me for the parts I’ve done and let me know so I can read it!

Speech Guide:

“Normal Speech”

*Goa-uld Speech*

‘Thought’

“Telepathy”

>Non-English language<

//Radio//

——————————————————————————

Desmond... was so utterly screwed.

Not like when he’d first run away and realized he had about 70 miles between him and anywhere he could find a ride.

Not like when he made it to a city and discovered that getting a job was a lot harder without any kind of ID than he’d thought it’d be.

Not even when he had to stitch up a stab wound on his own leg from an attempted mugging because there were no clinics and hospitals would want his records.

No, this was so much more screwed that he was pretty sure only the poor schmucks before him had gotten it worse. Or better, maybe, since at least the freaky alien brain snake that got shoved into their mouths either killed them right away or allowed them to take an ‘alternative exit’ because they weren’t cowards like him. Clay had grabbed the first sharp object he’d known would do the job and just started slashing himself up so much that nothing these assholes could do would save him, it hurt but not as much, please, make it stop! MaKe IT SToP!!

Desmond jolted off the bed with a gasp, the phantom feeling of choking and burning interrupted by the pain of landing on the floor, hard, and shit, yeah, that hurt.

Groaning, he shoved himself stubbornly to his feet, leaning back a bit against the bed when the world kinda... swayed, or, blurred, or both, before he felt something flex in the muscles along his neck and the pain and dizziness and the previously-unnoticed nausea went away. A gust of air escaped him as he let himself sag down onto the edge of the bed, relief temporarily causing him to forget about his situation.

“Hello, Young One.”

Aaaaaand there goes the nice fuzzy feeling. Desmond’s eyes widen in shock as he springs to his feet to spin in a circle, scanning the room for the speaker, or at least an intercom.

Nothing.

‘Greeeeaaaat. Going nuts already. Even the worst of them got at least a few days before they lost it.’

Amusement.

“You are not going crazy, Desmond. You are just the first to have pure enough genetics for me to properly communicate.”

‘Uhhh, what?!’

Fond Exasperation

“I can see you haven’t had time to process everything yet. Please, lay back down, and I will explain.”

Desmond hesitated, but... really, even if this was all in his head, at least it was something to distract from why he was there, what these nut jobs would do to him...

Desmond flopped back onto the bed, face hidden in the pillow to keep the not-so-hidden cameras from seeing his reactions. He wasn’t sure of much, but he did know that none of the others had heard a voice like this one. Given the lengths they went through to try to get info out of their previous ‘Subjects’, Desmond didn’t want them to figure out he wasn’t going batshit just yet.

A chuckle went through his head (yeah, not weird at all) before the voice started up again. It had a very... strange accent, like someone couldn’t decide on one and just went with all of them instead. It wavered between, with a few he recognized as middle eastern and Italian and maybe a bitta Russian occasionally too. It was just weird, okay, he didn’t need to be analyzing a probably-hallucinated voice in his brain!

“Ah, yes. You will be very entertaining to work with, won’t you, Desmond? And I am real, by the way. I sound like that because I am actually speaking to you in every language I have ever learned simultaneously, and I am essentially uploading them into your mind, where it is automatically translated into a language you understand; hence, English with many accents.”

‘... Huh. And... I can hear you when the others couldn’t... why?’

Sorrow. Guilt.

“I was forced into them as I was into you, but I was only bred to Bond with those who possess the same genes as my first Host. The others were of Bonded lines, yes, but belonging to other Ashraktyl. You, however, are a direct descendant of my Bonded bloodline, while they were descended from others. Clay was close, but one of your common ancestors procreated with someone who had a genetic disease, which, essentially, damaged it too much in their descendants for me to Bond. It was close enough for me to... ease his pain, at least. When he... succeeded in his escape.”

‘Well that’s definitely an accurate way to put that, at least.’

A sad chuckle.

‘Wait, so, lemme get this straight here: You are an alien parasite/snake?’

Amusement.

“Yes, I came from a different planet.”

‘Okay. And you’re able to get... inside of people and, what, collect their memories? Then share all the ones you’ve collected?’

Amused Sigh.

“Close enough, I suppose. If you allow me, I can... share my story, give you a brief history of my kind. It would include an explanation as to why you were taken, as well. Such a- well, the most accurate word is download, I suppose, will take a while, however, in order to avoid overloading your brain.”

Desmond thought about it for about three seconds before deciding.

‘Screw it, I’ve got nothing better to do and if I look like I’m unconscious or going nuts they’ll leave me alone, right? So go for it, I guess. Any ‘side effects may includes’ I should know about first?’

Another laugh.

“This will take a few hours, so make sure you’re comfortable. And while doing this, we will be connected, as if one being. My experiences will seem as if they are yours: you will know all my thoughts and feelings. It will fade after I ‘disconnect’, but... it will be an intense experience. Are you ready?”

Desmond wiggled around a bit to make sure nothing would fall asleep, then tried sending a sort of mental nod. The alien (seriously what was his life?!) send a nod back, and then... well, his head kinda went staticky, his hearing faded out, and oop, there goes his body, that’s super freaky, he can’t move or feel or-

It was warm. Cramped a bit, yes, with so many others in the tank with him, but in a comfortable way; he and his siblings all nestled together, speaking in clicks and squeaks and body language. Soaking up nutrients from the water, a generator keeping them healthy and half-asleep to make the time pass more quickly. And it was much time. It wouldn’t be until after most of them had perished, after the survivors had been found and freed, given Hosts, researched their new world’s history that they would discover their Queen was 800 years dead. That Egeria, in the days before Ra had come for her, had given life to one final brood. They were not Tok’ra, as their elder siblings were. They were Ashraktyl: Assassin Liberators.

While the Tok’ra were meant to fight in the open, to instigate rebellions and find allies and plant spies, the Ashraktyl were made to be invisible. They would allow their elders to form alliances, build safe havens. And then they would be freed. Would find Hosts, work from the shadows, kill without being seen. Weaken the Goa-uld while the Tok’ra held their attentions elsewhere.

But the elder siblings who had been told of them, the ones given life and hosts before Egeria had started on them at all, were lost. Killed, while attempting to retrieve their hidden stasis tank on a planet beyond the System Lord’s control. And so they were forgotten, hidden beneath the earth, beneath what would become the Masyaf stronghold.

It was a human named Al Mualim who finally dug up their hidden chamber, in the year 1170. He was a descendant of a Tok’ra’s host, had been told the tales that had been passed down for generations. He had just left the Templars for good, become Mentor of the Hashashins, was building his forces in order to strike back against those who would destroy the free will the Tok’ra had fought so hard to give humanity. He found them volunteers, Assassins who were the best and brightest of their Brotherhood, who had children who were to follow in their footsteps.

Egeria, in her wisdom, had known that the type of killing they would do would take its toll. Known how dangerous their missions would be, and what would happen should they lose their way. Some of her Tok’ra, despite their vows, would still steal Hosts to save their own lives. She had not known before, but she did by the end.

So she had altered them, shifted genes and DNA so that they would be bound to one Bloodline, to the genes of the first Host they took. So that they may only live if the Line remained unbroken, which required the Ashraktyl to remain dormant so that their Host may procreate successfully; thus ensuring that the Host retained their free will, that they had a true partnership.

He became Bonded to a young man named Umar Ibn-La'Ahad, whom they together discovered was of a very unique Bloodline already, a descendant of an offshoot sect of the Ancients that called themselves Isu: the very species that originally created and enslaved humans, before the Solar Flare killed them off and the Goa’uld later came to take their place as ‘gods’. It gave them greater Gifts, allowed them to tell friend from foe, to track targets from high above and through layers of earth and stone.

They flourished, grew, became the best of the best, and his dearest friend- his brother, gave him his first name.

Creed, was the closest English translation. For that is what he was: a promise, a religion, a purpose. A reason to keep fighting, even as his remaining siblings fell one by one: three in failed Bondings, seven on missions, and one to a trap that the Goa’uld left behind. By the time of Umar’s final mission, in August of 1176, out of the hundreds that Egeria had spawned... only Creed remained.

And then there was the siege, Sultan Salāḥ ad-Dīn, the truce, and Umar sacrificing himself. He explained gently to Altair that his time had come early, that Creed needed a safe place to go, ignoring his Bond-brothers screams of denial as he used their shared knowledge to force Creed out, giving him no where to go but his willing, 11 year old son. The last either of them saw him, he was smiling sadly, hand on their head, promising them that he would be with them always in spirit. Then he was gone.

Creed would never risk his brother’s son, not even with his Gifts and the Ashraktyl’s ability to enhance and improve and heal. So he sat quietly in the background of his mind, whispered encouragement and advice, shared memories and skills. He protected Altair, until he became too old, to stubborn, and then they began to go out, to follow in Umar’s footsteps. They, too, became the best, rising to Master well before anyone else of Altair’s age group.

And then there came the Templars, and the Chalice. Altair growing prideful, ignoring Creed’s warnings. The Apple, the Nine Targets, the plot. Al Mualim’s betrayal, his death, their rise to Mentor. Maria and Altair’s sons, Creed’s future Hosts, so eager to someday meet him. Then more death, and loss, and gain. And then Altair grew old, weak, and they knew. Darim carried him away from his old friend, passed him on to one of Sef’s daughters who had chosen to follow in her grandfathers footsteps.

It was 200 years and several Hosts before Creed created another Bond as deep as the first two. Giovanni Auditore da Firenze is young to be Mentor, only 20, but there is no one else willing. With Creed’s knowledge and experience, they are able to build up the Italian Branch, making allies among the Madame’s and courtesans and Thieves Guild. His wife is strong willed and supportive, his children brilliant each in their own ways.

They discuss, during a long trip, whether they should tell the younger three about the Brotherhood as they had Federico, his most-likely future Host. Creed had Bonded with the eldest already, having joined with him for a few days as a teenager while Giovanni was testing an old Goa-uld weapon, neither willing to risk it backfiring on them with Creed on-board. He and Federico had gotten along well, the boy’s high spirits a balm to Creed’s old, weary soul. They thought to do the same with Petruccio, the poor child, who had become more ill recently. Revealing the Brotherhood to them would allow Creed, with Petruccio’s permission, to temporarily take him as a Host so that he could heal the boy’s ailments.

Unfortunately, it was not to be. The mission went south, then the one after that, and they were both too weak to fight the guards who came to arrest them and their sons. There was no way for them to escape together, so when Ezio showed up outside their prison window, they did what was necessary. Creed left with Ezio in an old bottle they found in their cell, able to survive in plain water long enough for the teenager to get to the hidden room, and the chest, and read the letter that they had kept prepared for the worst-case scenario. Ezio did not hesitate, did not waver, in uncorking the bottle and hold it to his lips, accepting the Bond with a being he hadn’t known existed in order to save his family.

But they were too late. Too naive, both of them, and half the family was dead in just seconds. It took all of Creed’s skill to get them out alive, and Maria, whom he’d spent many-an-evening discussing art with, was broken by the end of it.

What followed was nearly 50 years of pain and loss and oh-so-few rewards, all for them to discover they were pawns in a bigger game, for a species long dead. It was the first time Creed was not passed down upon his Host’s retirement or death, instead choosing, as Ezio had, to rest. While in the vault, paying respects to his dear friend, they found the stasis jar he and Altair had built, ages ago, in case of emergency. They took it with them, back to Sofia, then to Constantinople, then to Italy and the marriage and then to Rome. It was there, after a final evening under the stars, looking over the vineyard that would be Ezio’s home- his family’s home- that they separated, for the first and last time since they had Joined. They pressed foreheads together, one final goodbye, and then Creed slipped into the jar.

He stayed there, sleeping, resting, until he was awoken by the lid coming off, the jar tilting, and he instinctively angled himself to enter the open mouth head-first, sliding through the back and around the spine and hooked himself into the nerves and brain. He completed the Bond, prepared himself for the traditional introduction. Instead, he had to snatch control in order to prevent their immediate death by sword, swinging a strange axe- tomahawk, the Host supplied- and nearly severing the soldier’s arm before heading straight up a tree and leaping away, not stopping until he reached a space his Host identified as safe.

And that was his introduction to Connor Kenway, descendant of Ezio’s daughter, who had passed Creed’s bottle down for decades until the Templars stole him and his Bloodline’s son and corrupted him and then lost Creed again to the son’s son, who’s Mentor knew about the Bloodline and sent Connor to retrieve him and wound up taking Creed into himself in desperation when the jar was damaged in the fight.

Despite their rough, hurried start, they made a good team, this earthly young man and him. His culture was fascinating, unlike what Creed had seen and heard of before, and apparently they were on one of those New Continents that had been discovered while he was with Ezio, the ones he had seen centuries ago on the Apple’s map with Altair.

He met Achilles, the current Mentor and Connor’s trainer, and got caught up on his history. He learned of Ezio’s death (peaceful, and loved), and of the passing around he had done until the pirate and the Purge and the theft. So many dead, because of one traitor, one Brother losing his faith. It was no wonder Achilles had nearly given up, the poor man. But Connor… oh, Connor, so like his Ezio, losing his family so young and tragically. Creed still didn’t care much for these ‘spirits’, not when he was created to defy false gods, but the woman seemed sincere, and her advice had led to Connor taking up his rightful place. So he could let it go, for now.

And so Connor and Creed began their own journey, fighting oppression and armies and Templars alike, meeting other Assassins who still survived, still fought. Killing Haytham, his Father, his Blood, was painful in a whole new way. Not even Al Mualim’s betrayal stung like this, right down to the bones. They gave him a proper burial, at least, laying the stolen son to rest next to the woman he had, genuinely, loved. It was… mostly peaceful, after that. They dedicated themselves to rebuilding the Brotherhood a third time, doing their best to weed out the Templars before they could dig their claws into the new government.

When the time came, eventually, for Connor to pass on the Creed… they could not bring themselves to tell her, Connors daughter. Remembered all their shared pain, over decades and centuries, and didn’t want to put her or others through that anymore. So they build another stasis jar, this one stronger, more durable, and bid their farewells. Creed slid into his sanctuary and slept long, deep, for centuries more, thankful for the respite yet ready to serve, when needed once again.

Only, it was far different, his next Bonding. It wasn’t right, the Host wasn’t right, from one of his sibling’s Bloodlines instead of his. He tried, he tried so hard to leave them, but he was blocked in, a collar around the neck and gag in the mouth and he had no where to go that wouldn’t damage them more. So he stayed, unable to escape, learning only bits and pieces his host (not his Host, never his, it’s wasn’t right!) was able to press towards him.

Templars. Abstergo. Experiments, and kidnappings. They learned of his kinds existence a few years ago, scoured the globe, found him under an Assassin’s care. They forced him into them, not knowing about the Bond, that Creed was not some common Goa-uld simbiote to bond with anything he could find. They suffered, both of them, unable to connect properly and in pain because of it. They knew of his sentience, wanted to interrogate him for their technology, but he could not speak through the host, no matter how much he tried when they began to torture them. They realized it, eventually. Used new machines to test their DNA and discovered the problem, after what was months or years. Finally gave him an exit, left the jar under his dying hosts head, let him crawl into in with slow, pained movements. Then executed them, an Assassin who’s identity he never knew, who only suffered so much because they happened to be the one on guard duty that day.

They waited until his malnourishment was fixed, until he was healthy again, before dragging him out and into another host. A different Bloodline, this time, a man with no knowledge of Assassins or Templars, and Creed had realized with horror that they planned to simply track down any descendants of those 12 Ashraktyl mentioned in an ancient Hashashin document they dug up from a forgotten Serbian tomb.

Decades passed like this: them dragging in some poor soul they’d spent years hunting down, him being forced in, them losing their minds and dying. 15 people, only three of them actual Assassins, one a child, whom they took away to be brainwashed into a spy and whom he later saw returned to them, now an adult, unstable and full of rage.

It wasn’t until Subject 16, until Clay, that they got the Bloodline right. There was still pain, the genetic damage not allowing them a full Bond, but… it was better.

Until they realized, of course, that Clay was able to access Creed’s memories, even if their ability to truly communicate was stunted. They began the torture again, trying to eek out anything they could get, but Clay was stubborn. Acted more unstable than he was, gave them false information they had no way of confirming, gaining enough ‘freedom’ with his apparent cooperation to slip a makeup mirror off an assistant, break it in his room, and take the shards to his wrists deeply and numerous enough that they were not able to slow the bleeding in time. Creed had done what he could, cut off his pain perception and sent peaceful waves of reassurance as he faded away. They rushed him into the tank, and even through the metal and muffling technology he could hear Vidic throwing a tantrum over the ‘loss’. He got a vindictive satisfaction out of it.

And then, that morning, he’d been pulled out, forced into yet another host, but this one- this one, Desmond Miles, was his true Host.

“And they can’t know, Desmond, they can’t, or they’ll hurt and kill you too. But we can get out of here, together, it’ll take a few days but I can improve your body, give you the physical strength and endurance we need to fight our way out. I can even do the fighting, Young One, if you don’t wish to. I can get us out. Please, Desmond. Trust me.”

Coming out of the… well, there’s not really a word for it, in any earth language. Vision-memory, maybe. And that’s a thing now too, Desmond knowing dozens of earth languages and several that are very much not. ‘Genetic memories, very useful. Guess your Queen was pretty well-traveled to know so many before she spawned you.’

Fondness. Sadness.

“Yes, she had been to many planets. Taken many hosts, before she changed her ways. It is why she changed, actually. Most Goa-uld are vain and stubborn: they would rather find a host they like and preserve it for as long as possible. Egeria, however, liked to try a new body on every planet she visited. As most of those planets were inhabited by humans stolen from around Earth, their languages were varied as well.”

‘Huh, cool. So… what do we do now? You said you can get us out?’

Relief. Eagerness.

“Yes. Goa-uld are able to use their connection to the human body to alter it in subtle ways. We can change hair and eye color, and control the different chemicals your body makes to direct them to do things such as develop muscles. We will need to sneak out using methods your body does not currently have the muscle for, and will likely have to fight as well.”

‘… So what you’re saying is that I’m not muscular enough in the right places, so you’ll have to use your alien magic to get us there.’

Amusement. Impression of a snort.

“If that’s what you want to call it, fine. But yes, essentially that is what I meant. But it takes a few days to make such alterations, so you will need to be a very good actor.”

‘Oh, that’s not a problem. Years of customer service for rich drunk assholes makes me more experienced than most of Hollywood.’

A laugh.

“Well, then. I suppose we should get started, hmm?”

Pretending to be in a lot of pain isn’t difficult at all. Neither is muttering fake names and locations to himself in whatever random language Creed helps to pop into his head. It’s kinda fun, actually, in a ‘if you fail you die’ kinda way. Stress-relieving. Staring blankly at Vidic while he asks questions before randomly shouting in Italian or Arabic and lunging for his neck as if he has a hidden blades gets him some bruised ribs, but also a full day of being left alone. No one wants to deal with the raving lunatic screaming about Templar plots and swinging invisible swords.

Meanwhile, Creed is working, altering chemicals and hormones to rearrange his muscles and fats and a bunch of other things Desmond could understand if he wanted to but he doesn’t, thank you, and now he’s hiding faster reflexes and healing and muscles and abs underneath his flailing and now-barely-loose hoody.

After Escaping: they see the SG-1 crew out investigating something, see Teal’c, recognize him as a Jaffa, kidnap him.

The Goa-uld tilted his head, brown eyes under the white hood flicking over Teal’c’s body in a way he recognized from a lifetime of being surrounded by warriors. He bore the scrutinizing with a blank face as he returned the favor.

The host was a young man with dark brown eyes, his skin tanned in a way that spoke more of genetics than time in the sun. He was wearing what Teal’c had learned to be blue jeans, black sneakers, and of course, the white ‘hoodie’ which was fully zipped up and pulled low over his face. He could see a tattoo peeking out of his left sleeve where it had ridden up a bit, and he was certain there was some sort of gauntlet or weapon on his right forearm as well.

Their ‘staring contest’, as O’Neill would have called it, was broken when the Goa-uld hummed out an intrigued noice.

*You are a Jaffa with the mark of Apophis’ Prime, yet you are not an enemy. How is that, young one?*

Teal’c felt a flicker of irritation yet maintained his composure, though he still retorted,

“I am a warrior over a century old, not a child for you to patronize.”

The Goa-uld responds with a strangely friendly-seeming smile, amusement evident as he says,

*I have been alive for a little over two thousand years, Jaffa. Anyone under half that is young to me. And you did not answer my question. Why do we not sense you are an enemy?*

‘We? Sense?’

Teal’c kept his silence for a few moments longer, thinking his answer through. This Goa-uld was… strange. Both in behavior and speech. Most would be snarling away at him, threatening and torturing and enjoying making ‘the traitor’ suffer. But while he was very thoroughly restrained, he had not been harmed outside of the zat shot which had knocked him unconscious. And the way the Goa-uld spoke, it reminded Teal’c of the way the older Tok’ra would. If he was truly as old as he said, then it matched up with the last time the Tok’ra Queen Egeria had been seen. Was it possible…

“Are you Tok’ra?”

The reaction was immediate and obvious. The Goa-uld jolted as if shocked, eyes widening and lips parting for an instant before excitement and hope lit up the host’s face, questions pouring out too quickly for Teal’c to actually answer.

*They are alive? They still fight? How many, where? They were supposed to come for us, to dig up our pod and find us hosts but those who knew were killed before they could and we feared… They are truly alive?*

Teal’c knew, in his head, that this could be a trick. That the Goa-uld could be excellent actors when the situation called for it. But his instincts, his heart, which had first told him to trust O’Neill and the others, were telling him that this was real. That this Tok’ra, two thousand years old, had been stuck here, separated from his brethren and their support, suffering alone for all this time.

So he relaxed into the restraints, looked the Tok’ra in the eyes, and began to speak.

“Until almost three years ago, I was the First Prime of Apophis. That changed when the Tau’ri rediscovered their Stargate.”

————-

It was many hours later before Teal’c finished speaking. He had been released at some point in the beginning, and the conversation moved to an abandoned apartment building several blocks over, where the Tok’ra had found an intact dwelling and set up inside. They were currently sitting across from each other at a small kitchen table with mismatched chairs, a few half-empty plastic bottles of water set between them.

In exchange for his information, the Tok’ra, whom called himself an Ashraktyl, had introduced himself as Creed and his host as Desmond. They, too, had shared their stories with Teal’c, from Creed’s first host all the way down to his and Desmond’s forced Bond, just two weeks before.

They had escaped their captors, Templars who ran a company called Abstergo, and spent the six days hiding out among abandoned buildings, utilizing their skills and Desmond’s genetic gift from his Ancient ancestor to avoid cameras and searchers, pickpocketing in order to get supplies.

After they let Teal’c call his team

“It is alright, O’Neill. I have not been harmed. There was merely a misunderstanding which we have cleared up.”

Jack gave him a dubious Look, but a quick scan over him showed an at-ease body language and no injuries. Another look at Teal’c’s abductor showed a similar demeanor, his hands spread empty and his limbs loose and non-threatening. Deciding to trust that Teal’c knows what he’s doing, Jack pushed aside his misgivings and lowered his weapon, prompting the other soldiers behind him to do the same. Teal’c nodded and then stepped to the side, revealing the man behind him fully. He’s young, mid-twenties, dressed in jeans and a white hoody that mostly covered his short brown hair and cast a shadow over his darker eyes. He looked back at Jack, then seemed to realize something and smiled sheepishly before reaching up to push the hood down fully, rubbing his neck nervously as he explained,

“Sorry, it’s become habit to keep it up. I’ve got some assholes out there that want me as a lab rat, so…”

Jack blinked, scanned over the kid again, saw nothing that obviously said ‘alien’, then turned to Teal’c and asked,

“So, misunderstanding, huh? You two gonna explain?”

They shared a quick, indecipherable look before reaching some unheard agreement as Teal’c takes over answering, the kid surreptitiously inching back behind the Jaffa in a way that did not leave Jack feeling encouraged.

“This is Desmond Miles. A week ago he escaped captivity by a company called Abstergo, who’s proprietors forced a Tok’ra into him in an attempt to extract information on the location of ancient alien weapons the Tok’ra once helped to hide on Earth centuries ago. They pretended that the Blending left Desmond mentally unstable and used that as a distraction until they were able to escape together. They were in hiding when they saw me waiting outside of the office for you. My hat was blown off, and they saw my mark and captured me in order to determine why I was here.”

Jack blinked at the verbal info dump, taking a few moments to sort through and digest the story. The- apparently- Tok’ra saw his increased scrutiny and scooched further behind Teal’c, looking more nervous.

‘Fair, since he- they did kidnap someone. Teal’c wouldn’t just take them at their word, so they must have given him proof of their claims. If the Tok’ra’s been on Earth long enough to have hidden alien weapons that long ago, then it’s a safe bet that they’re pretty invested in the planet’s safety.’

Mind made up, Jack gestured over his shoulder for the rest of the strike team to move out, telling the two aliens,

“We’ll take this back to base, get the reports filled out and verify your claims. General Hammond can deal with this. You said your name is Desmond?”

The kid nodded, most of the nervousness gone now that the weapons were too. Then he blinked, nodded again with a look of relief, and his eyes flashed that eerie gold and his entire posture changed, switching from miscreant-kid-trying-to-hide to confident-and-experienced-soldier, and wow did that make a difference. Desmond’s hunching and slouching had hidden exactly how tall he was, and those loose clothes were definitely hiding some serious muscle.

Jack stomped on the urge to pull a weapon at the familiar, creepily vibrating voice that then spoke to him.

*Thank you, Colonel O’Neill. We appreciate the trust you are showing. My name is Creed.*

Jack nodded and then partially turned, waving his arm towards the door in an after-you gesture. The Tok’ra hesitated a moment, then instead walked over to a window and grabbed a backpack that was rested underneath it. He returned to the table and carefully emptied the bag out onto it, giving Jack a clear view of what was inside in a very deliberate way that Jack appreciated. He stepped forward when the Tok’ra moved back, allowing him to inventory the contents.

“Granola bars, metal water bottle, painkillers, Swiss Army knife, first aid stuff, busted cell phone, and… yup that is a gun, thank you for keeping your hands out of the way, I’m just gonna…”

Jack reached over to grab the (fully loaded, safety on) handgun, unloading and tucking it into one of his bigger pants pockets. That done, he checked the pile over one more time, found nothing else, and then put it all back into the bag before taking it in hand.

“Anything else you wanna put in here? I’ll keep a hold of it and make sure it all gets returned to you once we get you verified as a good guy.”

Creed hesitated, getting the same look some of the other Tok’ra did when they were ‘conversing’ with their hosts, then sighed and pushed up his right sleeve, revealing a medieval-looking silver brace on his forearm. He pointed his arm off to the side, made eye contact with Jack, then flexed his arm and revealed an eight-inch stiletto blade that shot out from his wrist.

It took Jack a moment to respond, in which he thought,

‘Oh yeah, very glad he’s not a Goa-uld.’

Because there was no way one of those parasites wouldn’t have used that thing at the first opportunity, or tried to hide it and use it once inside SGC. At the speed it came out, it was probably capable of severing spines. Jack glanced from it to Creed, and saw when the Tok’ra understood his unspoken thanks in the gentling of his face. Creed nodded, somehow retracted the blade, and then removed it to slip into the open bag. He handled it with near reverence, in a way that made Jack sure that he would be extremely upset at it being destroyed or stolen. He mentally vowed to sneak the entire thing straight to his own quarters to avoid any chance of it being ‘mishandled’ by some NID lackey as he watched as Creed tossed in another knife and some cash before saying,

*That’s everything, unless you want Desmond’s skittle stash in our jacket pocket.”*

Jack snorted and shook an amused negative as he zipped the bag and slung it over his own shoulder. This time, when Jack gestured for him to follow Teal’c, he did so without question. They made it outside and to the van without incident, Creed pulling up his white hood seemingly automatically once they exited the building. His hands were loosely fisted in his pockets, his eyes roving over the streets and rooftops without him ever moving his head.

Despite the heavily armed soldiers all staring distrustfully at him, he seemed to relaxed a bit after they’d closed the vans doors and started driving. The further away from Colorado Springs they got, the looser his posture became, until they reached the base’s gate and he gave and actual sigh of relief. At Jack confused look, he smiled crookedly. The Colonel realized it was Desmond in charge just before he spoke, sounding both heartened and tired.

“Abstergo’s been hunting for us since we escaped, and they’ve got a lot of resources. Influence, money, and a whole lotta people on payroll, including law enforcement and politicians. But we know for a fact they haven’t managed to get anyone from the SGC to work for them yet. Creed heard their head doctor complaining about it to his supervisor a few weeks before the last host they shoved him into-“

He cut himself off with a wince, face paling a bit. Jack frowned, mentally prepped himself to hear something awful, then asked,

“What happened?”

Desmond hunched in on himself a bit, avoiding eye contact as he took a deep breath, released it, and then answered.

“Creed and his siblings were all designed by the Tok’ra Queen to be very… unique. She meant for them to be assassins, and knew how high the risk would be. Egeria didn’t want to risk them becoming corrupted by the darkness of the work they would do, so she altered them so that once they Blended for the first time, they would absorb some of the Host’s genes. After that, they would only be able to take a Host if the person shared enough DNA with the first Host to be compatible. Creed’s… Creed’s pod wasn’t found by the Tok’ra, and most of his siblings died before the descendant of a Tok’ra’s Host found them. After that, the remaining 11 who’d survived and had found willing Hosts all died within a decade of being rediscovered.”

Jack winced, already dreading where this sad story was going, but didn’t interrupt.

“So, Creed’s the only one left, and he’s bound to a certain Bloodline- my Bloodline, but Abstergo didn’t know that at first. They just forced him into the first prisoner they took and then started taking notes. Once they figured out it had to do with DNA, they started hunting down any remaining descendants of the 12 Ashraktyl. They didn’t know which one Creed was, so once they found someone they’d just…”

Desmond winced himself, starting to look even paler. Jack wanted to stop him, but he also had a responsibility to find out more.

“They forced him into 16 people before me, and since none of them had the right genes the Blending didn’t happen correctly and they started to become more and more mentally unstable the longer Creed was locked in them. He couldn’t get the chemical balances right or even get far enough into the nervous system to be able to speak with them. He was just this- this awful parasite to them. He- he did what he could, tried to relieve their pain, but… they would all die, eventually. Either because they lost it enough to attack and get killed, or because they found a way to do the job themselves. Only one ‘Subject’-“

He spat the word, face twisted in anger, and Creed must have been starting to get closer to the surface because his eyes had a glow,

“-survived, a little kid they brainwashed after they let Creed out and discovered the kid was basically a blank slate from the physiological shredding the Blending caused. Subject 16 heard that he’d been sent into a rival’s group and used as a sleeper agent. Took out their leader and then ran back to Abstergo like they’d programmed him to.”

‘…Yeah, kid, they’re all not the only ones who need some mental help. Damn, can’t imagine living with those kinds of memories.’

Desmond shook his head, eyes squeezed together before he nodded and went lax. A moment later Creed sat back up, posture almost regal despite the circumstances. He gave Jack a sad smile before he continued in Desmond’s stead. The other SG soldiers in the van all startled and reflexively gripped their weapons at the sound of his voice, but didn’t do any more than give him distrustful looks when they saw Jack’s calm reaction.

*Our apologies, Colonel. It is… difficult, for him to speak of these things. I’m born with the ability to compartmentalize the memories I inherit: Desmond is still learning how to do so. Every time he accesses my knowledge, it feels to him as if he is living that memory himself. Considering many of the other ‘Subjects’ died in slow and painful ways…*

Jack winced again, more visibly this time, cause yikes. Reliving other people’s suicides could not be either pleasant or good for the kid’s already tenuous mental health.

‘First stop, Dr. Fraiser. Need to get him- them checked for any injuries or trackers or secret bombs or something. Be just our luck. She can assess their mental states too.’

During a briefing with SGC Leadership

*My information, other than what Teal’c has told me, is 2,000 years out of date. I can, however, provide you with plans for things such as shields and some of the smaller weapons and ships. Egeria was not able to access the plans for much else before I was spawned, but she gave me all she knew.*

Creed paused, lips downturned as he continued,

*The main problem will be finding the actual resources to build the things I can give you. Earth does not have many of the necessary elements or power sources needed to recreate some things. I can start with those that could be easily modified and we can go from there. Perhaps your allies may be able to procure some of what you need for the rest.*

He directed his gaze back at Maybourne, raised an eyebrow, and asked mildly,

*Will that suffice to prove my intentions, Colonel?*

Maybourne looked torn between asserting his ‘authority’ due to the barely-concealed distain or marrying the guy for finally getting the officer what he’s been harping the SGC for. He instead decided to just nod, demand one of the immediately-doable designs by the end of the week, say his farewells, and stalk out of the room, shoulders squared and head held high. Creed actually snickered at that, or maybe Desmond had popped out for a moment, but quickly composed himself to let the General know how big he needed the blueprint sheets to be, and the kinds of pencils and tools to go with it. Cause apparently it would be easier for the 2,000 year old to just draw it all out on paper, rather than use the computers to generate a 3-D model. Jack approved. Computers were just trouble.

*I’ll start with energy shields. The medium-sized ones can be modified to work with nuclear reactors.*

Carter perked up and asked,

“What about a naquahda reactor?”

Creed blinked at her, brows creased, and asked what that was. Carter then proceeded to drag him off to her lab to show off her little pet project, and while Creed actually looked a bit interested, Jack would bet his best fishing pole that Desmond was in the back of their head having a nice little nap. The look on his face when Daniel had tried to pump him for information on the ‘Isu’ language and started spouting Ancient gibberish he’d learned over the years had shown that much.

Aaaaand that all folks! Hope there’s a chance someone wants to do something with this!

#assassins creed crossover #stargate #desmond miles

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ambitionsource · 1 year

Note

and on that note i am officially caught up !! oh man this past season has been a wild wild wild ride and i am very glad i gave myself the time to process that...and also that i've caught up to an episode where many major storylines have been tied up (i think if i had been witnessing, in dread, the first semester nigel fiasco™ i would have never recovered properly)— just working of 408 by the way, since i just finished it minutes ago, that was sosososo much fun. i love the call back to season 3 (?) and the reunification of unsung heroes lucas and charlie doing another high level crack down and the ending of that was so satisfying!! like when lucas dropped that cold line on graham after watching the mfer throw a tantrum oh my god i actually cheered out loud. and don't think we don't see the posturing with that tiny gofundme reference....i see the setup and i'm very, very excited for what's to come.

i'm gonna have to track back now to some of my fave tidbits from the season so far since i really went full steam ahead trying to finish it once i got started on catching up. i think the thanksgiving episode was one of my favorites, i'll admit. we got to see the culmination of the anya storyline with jade and the nigel fiasco ™ being addressed, maya and josh reaching an uneasy truce, etc etc probably a dozen more amazing things i'm forgetting off the top of my head. i also loved seeing the resolution of the roommate situation too and that both isa and lucas were able to walk away acknowledging that it wasn't really a specific fault of either of them but just...not being compatible in that way! there's just a line of maturity there between them that we wouldn't have seen in the past seasons and i'm just sososososo happy we get to flex those muscles for them. also isa and farkle...right person wrong time trope....you guys are sick for that.

i'm also very glad 408 ends with a Lot of optimism for (most of) our main cast too...yindra maya jade bonding!! jade being appreciated!! yindra giving it her best shot!! yindra jade roomies!! maya ep!! farkle....he's on his way! charlie lucas roommates!! jack winning!! nigel looking at those unis in the uk!! josh maya understanding!! again like a mentioned a lot of long building storylines that haven't exactly ended, per say, but have at least reached a point where they're still being actively developed.

this is getting very very long and i have many more thoughts that i know i'm neglecting but i want to just highlight lucas' gift performance for riley during christmas— i just saw immediate parallels to season 1 rl with the two of them on the steps and i had to pause and take a deep breath because w o w i used to dream of times like this...seeing the two of them happy and domestic and very very secure in their relationship!! you guys promised us multiple times they would get here!! i know!! it just sorta occurred to me right then (even though that's the least of happy rl we've seen this season) that we really made it that far!! and also put into perspective for me how much you guys have really been able to develop ambition since then— i've been following along since the og pilot dropped when the idea of a josh matthews was a crazy, far off plot line being teased for post-graduation and NOW HE'S A REGULAR!!!! i'm just really really overjoyed at seeing that everything is coming into play and you guys have been able to execute on these plans you've had in your back pocket for so long. please know that all praise is deserved and i wish i could put it in words how amazing i think y'all are doing, but suffice to say i'm not as good with them as you two are. can't wait for what comes next!!

p.s. the dinner sequence in the new years episode went crazy hard and i loved seeing everything get put to light, but more so the intercut of riley telling everyone dylan and asher were moving in together and everyone pausing like "?" before going back to tearing each other to shreds. comedic genius.

p.p.s. TECHIE GANGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!! DYLAN AND ASHER ASHER AND DYLAN DYLAN AND ASHER ASHER AND DYLAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'VE MISSED THEM SO MUCH YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!!!!!!!!!!!! also i love the tidbits we get on how successful dylan's channel really is and also the fact that he lowkey has a cult behind his back in the best way possible....only the best for the best. i missed them dearly

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOU TWO DO AND I'M SORRY ABOUT DUMPING IN THE ASK BOX ALL OF A SUDDEN I HAD A LOT OF EMOTIONS AFTER THAT LAST EPISODE !!! good luck with the next set of episode and all that jazz !! i just know they're gonna be as amazing as all the rest have been :D

wowowowowow. this is such an incredible message, thank you so much for sending it!!!! we're so happy you enjoyed the journey thus far and that you've been able to catch up in your own time and way. also to hear that you're also one of my og og readers... that's so great omg. we really have no idea how long people have been reading for / following the journey unless they outright tell us so every time we learn people really have been walking this trail with us for 4 years (CAN YOU BELIEVE?), it's truly unreal. thank you thank you thank you 💕

and there's so much awesome in this comment i don't even know where to begin haha, though i think i'll let most of it speak for itself. it's a lot to try and put into words when you binge s4 thus far (which, you must be superhuman bc... these eps are long af lol. you did that!!)

but please NEVERRRR apologize for dumping in our ask box!! we love it, and interaction is always more than welcome. (we also are still working on putting together a discord server for the show that will POTENTIALLY hopefully be live very very soon... if that is of interest to anyone to connect with fellow warriors... just putting that out there 🤪)

again, thank you SO much for reading, and i hope you continue to love the ride!! 409 is just around the corner!

-- Maggie

#high praise tag #literally... this is so sweet. wow #s4 reax #i cant believe some of y'all really have been here since the start im gonna cry fr #i'm also so glad tumblr lets people send long af messages now LOL

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neonacity · 2 years

Text

ARCANE | CH.3 | NCT DREAM X READER

Summary: When you decided to apply for a researcher post in an elusive institute, you already had the feeling that you will be getting yourself knee-deep into something out of the ordinary. But desperate needs require desperate measures, and so you embraced the invite, despite all the alarm signals urging you to run away. What you found out was nothing you’d ever expected.

Seven boys.

Seven human deviants granted with abilities tied to the legendary Arcana Cards.

Welcome to Project Dream.

Pairing: Various Dream Members x Reader

Trigger Warnings/Themes: violence, torture, trauma, very slight yandere themes, poly dynamics, psychological, mystery, sci-fi. Romance will take a little bit of a backseat on this one since this is more of a suspense-driven plot, but it will still be threaded in the overall story. The concept of the tarot or Arcana cards will be loosely used throughout the series. Note that I am not a trained doctor so there may be some slips here and there about medical things. Again, this is a work of fiction and I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the boys to their real life counterparts. I also reserve the rights to all my work—I do not post anywhere else other than tumblr.

> CH. 1 | CH. 2

Chapter Song: Ghost

"I think I know what Chenle's Arcana is."

Kun glanced up at you from over his lunch. The poor man looked slightly confused, which, to give him credit, was an appropriate reaction, because the two of you were talking about an entirely different thing just a second ago. You looked back at him unflinchingly, the cold noodles you've been faking interest over since you sat down at the cafeteria now blatantly forgotten. Your expression must have looked so focused because he slowly put down his chopsticks to give you his full attention.

"So that's what you've been wanting to say for the past three days."

You swallowed dryly and gave a single nod. Of course he got that. You might be trained in controlling your emotions, but to be honest, it's not like you've also felt much like yourself lately.

It's been a while since you had your first contact with Mark, Jisung, and Chenle. The next few days that followed were spent with you sitting in the control room watching the others from monitors or reviewing old tapes of their interviews. A part of you was wondering when you would be given the greenlight to meet the remaining four, but if you’re going to be completely honest with yourself, it's not like you were in a hurry to get the task done. Ater everything that you've witnessed, you're actually alright waiting it out until you've processed everything properly.

The challenge, however, is that you're not exactly sure if that time will ever come. You've always believed in science—in process and methodology and hypothesis—so being slapped with something so out of reason and unfathomable is such an abstract, confusing thing for you.

It also doesn't help that you have this nagging feeling of being kept away from something that is so within reach but you just can't take hold of. It doesn't make sense even to you, but for a few times during your live monitoring of the boys, you actually had the crazy thought that their interview answers and test performances were meant to be seen by you. A direct glance at the camera here and there, a secret smile that nobody else in the control room seems to notice… Sometimes, it's almost as if they are putting on a show for you.

You are the one behind the camera observing them… But you feel like you are the one being watched.

Maybe I am going crazy.

"So what do you think about Chenle?"

You were brought into focus again by Kun's question. You hesitated for a second, but you finally dug for something from the pocket of your lab coat and pushed it surreptitiously over to him. He looked at it confused before slowly turning the thing over.

It was a gold trimmed black card with an illustration of a full moon and a crescent moon enclosed in it. Gilded embossed text glittered under the picture when he shifted it slightly under the light.

The Moon | La Luna

"The 18th card on the deck. The Moon card. It has so many meanings and symbolisms when I checked, but almost every resource says that it is about illusions and the subconscious."

"Where did you get this card?"

"I kinda borrowed it from my roommate. She had a phase where she got obsessed with them."

"Borrowed…"

You sighed. "Fine. I took it secretly. If you're worried about me sharing work things with her, then no I didn't do that. I'm not planning to break that non-disclosure contract."

Kun pursed his lips and flipped the card over again before slipping it into his coat pocket. The pair of you were sitting on a table away from the handful of employees who are also taking their lunch but he still threw your area a quick look around to check if anyone might be listening. He stood up then, tray of food in hand. You followed and you both walked towards the disposal area without even exchanging another word.

"I don't think this is the right place to talk about this," he whispered under his breath as he placed his half finished food on the clean-up spot. You simply gave him a nod.

"Good thing lunch is over. It's time to get back to work."

*******

"What makes you think that it is his Arcana?" Kun asked as he leaned against his table directly adjacent to yours. He was frowning, the card back in his hand. His fingers ran through its edges as he waited for your answer.

You, on the other hand, didn't really know how and where to start. There is, however, one line you've read from one of your resources that really stood out to you.

"Under the light of the moon, nothing is as it seems."

"How does that relate with what Chenle can do?"

You hesitated. A part of you didn't really want to share what happened in the greenhouse, but you felt like it was crucial information that can also support your assumptions.

"He… gave me something when we met. He said it was a gift."

His brows rose slightly. You could tell that was the least he was expecting.

"A gift?"

You nodded. You already decided beforehand to skip sharing the part where Chenle also mentioned that it was a gift from someone else, but the other things, you felt like you could share. It's just that... for that piece of information alone, you felt like it was too intimate to be known by others.

"It was a stick. I was so sure it was a dead branch since I saw him play with it, but after he gave it to me, it changed into something else… A yellow daffodil."

Kun froze. He still looked a little clueless, but you can see it, the way he was thinking and processing that bit of information.

"The Moon card, when drawn in reverse, can also mean transformation…" you trailed off, and you swore you saw the exact moment that it clicked on his head. "I think he can shift things."

"There are no daffodils in Jisung's garden," he said simply, his gaze fixed in nothing in particular. You know that look. It's the one people have when they try to rationalize things with facts. "He couldn't have picked it up somewhere."

You leaned over a little now towards him. You were pretty sure that there was no one else who could possibly hear your conversation in your private office, but it still felt right for you to keep your voice down.

"I'm not sure if he simply creates illusions, but I checked this morning, and I'm pretty sure it was still a daffodil that I'm seeing. The flower is almost dried now, but it is a flower."

"Did you take it home?" Kun asked, his intense gaze now on you.

"Yes."

"Do you think you can bring it here tomorrow then? We need to run tests on it. If we consider the meaning of his Arcana, then you're right. It might just be an illusion—an outside glamor that he used to change its appearance. But if its cellular structure also changed…"

Your eyes met. You knew he was thinking what has also been running in your head ever since the thought latched on you.

"Then it means he can transform things at an atomic level. Completely change and alter their physical makeup…" you finished.

Kun sighed and finally pushed back from his table so he could settle on his seat. He looked somehow troubled over something as he briefly removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I've always known. That he's the Moon Arcana."

Your eyes widened before a confused look settled on you. "Wait. What? But did you—"

"I only knew the tagging of his card—he told me before as a joke, but I didn't exactly know what his skill is. This is the first time that he's shown a clue about it."

That still didn't clear all of your questions. For a moment you simply stared at him until an idea started forming in the back of your mind. Chenle did say that he was able to convince Kun to let him out and meet you…

"Are you two somehow… close?"

The glance he gave you was half-hesitant and half-calculating. You have a feeling you know exactly what he was trying to figure out.

He was checking if he can trust you or not.

"We… talk more compared to the others. He was the first boy I ever had contact with when I came here."

You slowly nodded. You weren't surprised about that at all since even with you, Chenle seemed to be more open compared to the other two you've met. It was simply in his nature. What you couldn't figure out, however, is why Kun kept such important information from Cypher when it was his job to dig up more about the boys in the first place. He could have easily documented it, put it on file, and worked up from there.

"Why didn't you disclose it?" You asked lowly now, your voice careful. The usual, unexplainable nagging thought tugged at the edges of your mind again, except this time, they are getting a little less hazy by the second. Kun looked at you guiltily, and you felt your palms slowly turn cold. You could see it… the gears of his mind actually working in overdrive, trying to figure out if he should answer or not.

"You can trust me," the words came out of you from nowhere. You have no idea why you said them, but it looked like the right choice because Kun's face slightly cleared up. He still looked torn, but finally, he looked away after breathing out slowly and running his fingers through his hair.

"I didn't tell anyone because his information would be too incomplete. It will be like giving half of the story. Giving a lead with too many blanks on it just gears up everything. If the bosses find out that we have his Arcana but not his exact skill, they might be pushed to… subject him to some tests."

You let his words sink in. "What kinds of tests…"

He didn't immediately answer this time, his face turned away so you can only see his profile. The chill has seeped now up to your arms then at the sides of your head. You've been there, watching the usual sessions the boys were subjected to. From your perspective, they all look pretty normal—routine interviews, stimuli tests, and a few times, some neuropsychological examinations. All harmless… unless you're only seeing a part of it.

Then you remembered. Mark's hesitance. Jisung's fear.

"Kun… What are they doing to them? Cypher is not doing anything illegal, are they?" You asked again, voice barely a whisper. That finally made the man turn his gaze back to you. Slowly, he leaned over on his seat, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Some of the tests can go pretty extreme. All those that you've sat through, that's only a portion of them. Why do you think they need a psychologist?"

Your throat felt tight. "They're not—are they using unethical procedures? That's against the law."

"Do you really think an organization as big as Cypher cares about the law? Where do you think they are getting the funding? All the backing? Some of their projects are literally requested by the government itself."

"You're protecting him," you said simply. Kun looked away again.

"Look… the boys only have two choices. Make their lives easy and just tell us what they can do or keep it from us for as long as they can. The only reason why the others are untouched is because Cypher is being careful in running tests on them—we don't have any idea what they can do and just throwing in assessments can blow things up in our faces. Literally."

"The problem is that at this point, I don't think Cypher can wait much longer. They are getting impatient. And impatience can lead to desperation."

You sucked in a slow breath. You leaned back on your seat, your gaze lost. You were still trying to gather your thoughts that you didn't even notice Kun pulling his seat closer to you. You only snapped back to the present when you felt him hold your hand.

"You have to try and do something."

You looked at him, surprised.

"What? Why me?"

"I don't know either. But for some reason, Chenle gave you an idea of what he can do when he had only been giving everyone else blank clues since he came here. Maybe you can do it for the others, too. The sooner they show their Arcana, the sooner they can get out of here."

"I don't think that is enough to—"

"You said I can trust you."

You stopped. He was still holding you, his grip not tight but unwavering still.

"Yes. You can."

"Then prove it. You'll be meeting another one of them today. If he trusts you… then I'll believe you."

*******

You almost didn't feel like yourself as you walked down the long strip of hallway tucked on the other side of the wing where you usually make your rounds. If not for the sound of your heels bouncing against the high ceilings, you would have thought you were in a dream, where nothing seems to be solid enough to grasp. As if it wasn't too much that you have to work with superhumans, now you also have to deal with questionable mega corporations that can crush you—and your whole career—like a bug under a boot. Briefly, you missed the time when the only things you had to worry about are loan sharks and your father's debt in millions.

You barely noticed yourself stopping until your gaze finally focused on what looks like an emergency room door at the end of the hallway. There was a small slot of glass that lets you see through it, but you can't really make out much other than what looks like rows and rows of curtains inside. Almost robotically, you lifted your ID and tapped it against the slot by the wall. A beep answered the action, followed by a brief flashing of a green light.

You almost wished the door wouldn't open.

It did, of course, with that same mechanical sound that never fails to grate at your nerves. You hesitantly took a step inside now, your eyes quietly observing the room.

The place looked like an average ward. True to what you assumed earlier, the walls of curtains were divisions separating beds from each other which, for the most part, look pretty much untouched. A dim, smaller room was tucked on the far end of the space, and you could see outlines of machinery there similar to the ones you would spot in an Intensive Care Unit.

"Hi! Are you Kun's partner?"

You turned around at the voice that called out to you. A man was peeking from around one of the closed sections of the ward, his eyes curious behind his big glasses. He has short, jet black hair that tastefully spiked at the crown of his head and a number of piercings decorated the arches of his ears. He smiled, showing perfect white teeth.

"Hi. Yes. Yes, that's me."

The boy finally stepped out from behind the cubicle and started making his way towards you, seemingly in a rush. He was wearing what looked like casual clothes, but he also has the same lab gown that most doctors in Cypher have. He does have it pushed up by the sleeves though, and you couldn't help but notice the tattoo that ran almost the length of his right forearm when he got closer. He offered the same hand for you to shake.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Ten. I'm the general physician here."

"Hi, likewise," you replied with your own name as you shook his hand briefly. "I hope you don't mind me barging in. I was told that I need to have my next session here."

"You're here to check 02, right?"

For a moment, you were confused about what he was talking about. The number did ring a bell in your head, however, and you suddenly realized what he was referring to.

"Yes. Yes, I'm here to see him."

"Great. He's at the last bed over there. Pretty sure he just woke up a little while ago. Listen, can I ask for a favor? Please give this to him. He's scheduled to take this now."

Before you could even say anything, he handed over something to you which, out of your own surprise, you easily received with no hesitation. You blinked down on the small orange pill bottle on your hand now with what looks like two white tablets inside. A scribble on its front label told you what they are: rizatriptan.

Pain blockers?

"What do I…"

"Just hand it over to him. He’ll know what to do about it. Really sorry about this but I was suddenly called for a red code so I have to check on another patient," he answered as he took a step back from you. He looked on the verge of bolting out the door but he did apologetically put out both of his hands to you just as he reached the entryway. You stared at him, confused, but he was already halfway out before you could say anything.

"Last bed. Right side. Don't worry, he doesn't bite. I'll try to be back as soon as I can!"

And just like that he left you alone standing shell-shocked in the middle of the room. Your eyes remained on the door he slammed shut for a few more seconds, until a soft coughing from somewhere made you finally turn around towards the direction he was pointing at earlier. With another glance at the pill bottle in your hand, you finally made your way deeper into the ward to follow the noise.

It was coming from behind a blue curtain—which, as you took notice now—is the only different hue from the rest of the room. Unlike the other sections of the ward which have their lights on, this particular section was mostly dark except for the warmer tinge of glow coming from what you assume is a lamp behind it. Unconsciously, your fingers tightened momentarily around the medicine bottle before you finally reached out to part the curtains and step inside.

It took you a moment to adjust your vision to the sudden change of lighting. You were still trying to take in everything when your eyes landed on the lone occupant of the makeshift room, his eyes already set on you.

The soft glow of the lamp kissed his gentle features in a way that made him look fragile against the utilitarian setup around his hospital bed. His hair was dark with wisps of blonde, and longer strands fell over the soft gaze he had trained on you as he sat, unmoving, against some propped up pillows on his headboard. His features were wispy, and there was a certain unexplainable grace in the way he holds himself. You were so lost in taking him in that you only realized you had been staring when he finally, slowly smiled at you.

"I'm sorry… but can I have my medicine?"

That was enough to unfreeze you from your spot. Clearing your throat, you fully made your way inside and handed the pill bottle to him.

"I apologize, here you go." Your voice, fortunately, sounded steady when you finally spoke. His cold fingers lightly grazed over yours when he took the small container you passed over. For the first time, you noticed that he was strapped to an IV line and other cords connected to several monitoring machines next to his bed.

"Ten-hyung has long since given up putting me in the ICU so he moved some of his toys here and made me this room. Do you like it? It looks warmer, doesn't it?"

He asked that question so casually, as if you're old acquaintances. You watched as he tipped the glass of water to his lips to down one of the tablets that he pried from the pill container. Despite the dimmer lighting in the room, you can't help but notice the slight shaking of his hand as he put his drink away after.

"Are you feeling okay? Kun said you have been sick for a few days now."

He simply shrugged and rearranged the light jacket he was wearing over his shoulders.

"I'm almost always sick so it's really no big deal. I apologize though. For cancelling on you."

You gave a slight shake of your head. "That's fine. Are you sure you are ready to talk though? We can always move it anytime…"

"No. I'm fine. I actually would prefer to meet you now. The rest of them can't stop talking about you and I really just want this done so they could stop flaunting to me that they've met you already."

You must have looked so confused by what he said because he gave a soft laugh at your expression. He simply waved it away though by motioning to the seat next to his bed.

"Sit. You need to talk to me, right?"

You briefly pondered whether you should press him more about his comment, but in the end, you decided to gloss over it—for now—to focus on more important things. Silently, you took your seat and crossed your legs in front of you. The boy watched your every move, an unreadable expression in his gaze.

"Do you mind me asking my first question?" You asked gently. He answered with a shake of his head.

"Why are you taking pain blockers, Renjun?"

He didn't seem bothered at all by your inquiry, another sign that this must be a regular occurrence for him.

"Oh, I need them for my headaches. I get really bad migraines… believe me though, the pain blockers are the small league. On my worst days, they have to pull the big guns and feed me meds via IV."

The way he answered so casually made you equal parts concerned and curious. You frowned.

"Is it chronic pain? What's causing it?"

You definitely caught the knowing smile that tipped the corners of his lips slightly upward.

"Are you sure you don't know yet, noona?"

He watched you amusingly, his smile growing just a little bigger as realization slowly dawned on your face. Your eyes dropped to the pill bottle that he was still holding, now left with only one of his pills.

"You figured out Chenle's… I'm sure mine would be a piece of cake."

Of course. How could you have been so clueless? The answer to your question had always been there in his records, staring you in the face.

Huang Renjun, 22 years old. Patient number 02, the first boy who showed his Arcana to Cypher. Arcana ID: The High Priestess | La Papessa.

Skill: Psyche Tapping

You were at a loss of what to say. It makes perfect sense. The High Priestess, the second card of the Major Arcana, relates to the Divine Feminine and its qualities: intuition, the unconscious.

The Mind.

"Why are you affected by it?" Was the first question that you managed to blurt out from processing the information. All of a sudden, there was that nagging feeling again of worry over these boys—these strangers—that just seem to jump out at you from nowhere. "Jisung and Mark, I met them but they are okay. Do you mean all of you are… in pain because of your skills?"

Renjun did give you a slight look of surprise as he leaned back on his pillows.

"You meet people who have psychic powers and can form energy balls with their hands and the first thing you're worried about is whether they are in pain? That's… definitely a breath of fresh air."

"You didn't answer my question."

He shrugged. "Well, no. Jisung, Mark, and the others are okay, if that's something you want to know. Their physical bodies can manage their abilities, though it does take constant practice for them to keep them under control. I'm a slightly different case… since my health is a little bit less resistant from theirs, my body has to work harder. It's really not a cause and effect scenario though… more of like me balancing these two things."

"Why headaches though?"

The smile he gave you was wry.

"The mind is an exhausting place. Getting lost in your own head is difficult enough. Imagine doing that with others."

Your eyes fell on his open file on your lap. Of all the skills you have witnessed and managed to figure out, Renjun's is ironically one of the most confusing despite it being clearly stated on his records. It is one thing to be able to control things or create something out of thin air, but the mind… is something so boundless and abstract. You know, having studied it for so long.

For the most part, two questions circled in your head. What exactly can he do? What can the mind not do?

"They say your card is The High Priestess… the one that stands for the Divine Feminine?"

"Yes. Are you confused by the gender classification?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, yes, I am."

"Mm, you see, the Arcana follows a non-binary structure. The concept of gender doesn't apply here the way it does in the human world. All of us have female and male energies within us—like Yin and Yang. It's all just energy. Mine just simply happens to connect with the female energy. Similar to how Mark's Emperor stands for the Divine Masculine."

You processed that slowly.

"So that's why your skills are on the opposite sides of the spectrum. His Arcana controls physical matter and yours stem from the psyche."

He tipped his head slightly.

"Pretty cool, hm?"

Just then, something about what he said earlier caught up with you. You turned to him, angling your body a little closer from the comfort of your seat. You don't know what it is exactly about him—or maybe you do, just subconsciously—but Renjun oddly puts you at ease. You entered this room with your anxiety levels on high, but now you could barely remember any of your worries. Conversing with him just seems so easy… Familiar. You didn't feel like you had to gently toe boundaries out of fear of scaring him away. At the same time, he is so full of mystery that you can’t help but be reeled in and want to know more.

"How did you know that I figured out Chenle's Arcana? I haven't told anyone other than Kun."

He smiled at you, and all of a sudden you feel like you are playing a game with a reverse mirror image of yourself. Here you are, a person who believes in the science of the psyche, face to face with the exact opposite of everything you believe in.

"Give me a guess," he challenged you gently.

"You can read minds?"

He laughed. "Even if I do that, you mostly can only read what someone is thinking in the present. And until a few seconds ago, I'm pretty sure you're thinking of nobody else but me."

He sounded like he was teasing, but you didn't want to get distracted. A thought rose from the back of your mind then, which led to one realization, and then another.

If he can read the present but can also access the past, then…

"Memories," you said all of a sudden. "The High Priestess in upright means intuition, a feel for the future. So in reverse, it can deal with what's already happened in the psyche."

"Impressive. You've done your homework haven't you?" He smiled before stopping momentarily, as if listening to something he can only hear. His smile turned into a more playful grin. "Gosh, you are so excited right now. Your doctor's training is kicking in. Aren't I a dream for the kind of research you often do?"

You straightened your back a little bit and frowned gently at him. Is he… listening to your thoughts?

"Are you…"

"Reading your thoughts? No, fortunately, I am not. I can't do that. But I can pretty much pick up your emotions. I just fill in the blanks from there."

The psyche. The subconscious mind. The conscious and the unconscious. All of which, when combined, can also affect someone's emotions. You were stumped. You can’t believe how everything seems to connect.

"Did you like the flower?"

Your gaze snapped at him again before you could even get lost on your thoughts. He simply gazed at you, waiting for your answer.

"It was from you?"

"Yellow is my favorite color. And I love the message behind daffodils… They mean that winter is over, and a new beginning is here."

You were just about to say something when a loud banging sound from the other end of the room made you jump on your seat. You turned around just in time to catch the high-pitched aggravated tone of Ten, followed by panicked footsteps.

"Jesus Christ, when will you stop being so stupid? How did you manage to break your lunch plate and fall on it at the same time?"

"I told you, Chenle and I were playing around and I accidentally pushed it off the table before I—rather gracefully I might say—tripped on it. It was a 10/10 dive, if I might add."

The sound of a new voice made you finally stand up. You could hear the voices coming closer to where you are and you briefly wondered if you should offer your help or keep your business to yourself. It was odd how Ten sounded so distressed, while his companion seemed so casual, almost as if he was having fun. Beside you, you heard Renjun give a slight sigh. You briefly saw him close his eyes before adjusting himself so he can lie down instead.

"And this… is one of the constant reasons behind my headaches."

You didn't wait for him to elaborate since the sound of the footsteps have already reached your area. You quickly stepped away and parted the curtain division of Renjun's makeshift space and caught Ten on the verge of shoving someone in the room next to yours.

"Hey. Is everything alri—"

Your words died in your throat at the sight that welcomed you.

Ten's once white coat is splattered with red, but the blood didn't seem to be coming from him. Instead, it looked to be streaming down from the arm of the boy beside him who was currently clutching a white towel against the gash on his forearm. Your eyes widened. Your gaze moved up to his face, only for you to freeze as he smirked at you.

"Hi, noona. Fancy meeting you here~"

*******

“You’re still here,” Ten simply shot you a look before finally pushing the younger boy inside the room. The latter stumbled towards it but not before managing to give you a wave. You blinked. Ten was still speaking to you, his voice now a little muffled behind the curtains he disappeared to.

“Believe me when I say that this is not how my everyday life looks like. The ward is usually so peaceful, but of course this little imp here can’t let that last too long. Yah, don’t move! You’re losing too much blood!”

You turned slightly towards Renjun who simply rolled his eyes at you before giving a slight wave of his hand. He spoke softly, just enough for you to catch his words.

“Go. He’s doing this for you. We can talk again another time.”

What he said made zero sense, but you did give him a slight nod before stepping out of his room and coming over to the next one. You peered at it cautiously, your gaze catching Ten’s back as he bent over the newcomer. He now has a metal basin pushed into the boy’s lap and you caught the bloody ends of the soaked rag next to him by the bed.

“Uh… do you need any help?” you asked carefully, not allowing yourself inside until you're sure that you are not overstepping anything. Ten didn’t glance at you but nodded over to the side of the room.

“Do you know how to clean wounds?”

“I…yes. Do you have any saline solution?” you answered as you finally went in. The new boy's smile widened in a satisfied fashion as if he won a bet only he knows about. You didn’t pay it much mind, however, as you caught sight of what you were looking for stacked against a metal drawer. You didn’t wait for Ten to give you an answer before you grabbed one of it with a syringe you found in the lower drawer.

“That’ll be the second favor I’ll be asking you today, but yes, please irrigate his wound for now. I need to get something at the medical stockroom. My suturing kit is busted. He needs stitches.”

“Alright. I’ll take care of it.”

For the second time that day, he gave you a quick, apologetic smile before he rushed out of the room again. You silently turned towards the boy in front of you then, holding his gaze for a few seconds before you gently took his wounded arm. He was still smiling at you, something you found so odd and in contrast with his injury.

"Can you hold it out for me? I need to clean it."

He did what he was told though you could still feel his gaze heavy on you. You ignored it, focusing instead on opening the syringe pack and plunging it on the bottle cap of the saline solution. When you moved over to finally start flushing the wound, he was already holding the small basin to catch the drop off.

"I'm Haechan."

"I know."

He giggled.

"Chenle's right. You are cuter up close."

"Does it hurt? You don't seem to be bothered by it," you asked now as you glanced up at him briefly. His wound was small, maybe just an inch or two, but it was jagged at the edges and looked deep enough to produce a significant amount of blood. Something about the way his lips curled told you that there was something he was keeping back, and you patiently waited for him to give whatever comeback it was that he was trying to formulate. Three minutes in the room and you've given him a good read through already. He was testing you… teasing you into giving the reaction he wants.

"It's worth it because I got to see you."

Well that was definitely not something you were expecting. You frowned and Haechan's smile widened, seemingly pleased by what he was able to pull out of you. You know him by his name, but other than that, everything about him draws a blank. It was one of the reasons why he was not meant to meet you this soon, because just like the remaining boys, his Arcana is still a mystery—and he, apparently, can be dangerous.

Being so close to him right now, you do feel like there is a truth to that, but probably not in a conventional way… While Renjun's demeanor eases you in, Haechan's almost pushes against your edges, like he was checking if you would bite back.

"All of you keep on saying that. As if it's a big deal," you finally said as you refocused your attention back to his wound. The bleeding has stopped a little, but the water you were draining it with still flowed red as it fell on the small basin he was holding. You felt him shrug a little bit.

"I think you are underestimating the lack of cute girls in this facility. Or prison. Or whatever. Can't blame us really. Besides, I can't let Renjun get the upper hand with you. He meets you, I do too."

A snort came from the other side of the curtain.

"Shut up, Haechan."

"Anyway," Haechan continued as if he didn’t hear anything and actually pulled his arm away from you, a gesture which made you look up at him in concern. "Chenle told me that he showed you what he can do, so it made me think that maybe I can go easy on you, too. I mean, I love playing with the other stupid doctors here, but it's really getting a little boring. I think I can make an exception for you. What do you think about that, sweetheart? Will you like that~?"

This time, you actually had to take in a deep breath to steady yourself. Still, you can't help but scowl at him which only made his smirk grow wider. He even leaned back against his hands, which sent you to flash him a warning look. Trickles of blood ran down his forearm and into the mattress.

"I will appreciate it if you talk to me with a little bit more professionalism. I'm your doctor."

"My psychologist, specifically. Doesn't that mean I can be more open to you? You know, so we can talk about feelings or whatever?"

The way his blood pooled more on the hospital bed made you purse your lips. You stretched out your palm now, your gaze clashing with his.

"Give me your hand. You're bleeding everywhere."

"What do you mean?"

Your patience was thinning.

"I am not playing around. Give me your hand or your wound will—"

"I think you're imagining things, noona. What wound…?"

The way his brow arched and the corner of his lip tipped made you stop. You stared at him for a second longer, before your gaze slowly moved downward towards his hand.

You froze.

His skin looked smooth and untouched, similar to the spotless mattress he was leaning on, now rid of any trace of blood. Quickly, your gaze landed on the small basin filled with bloody water that you were using earlier. You took in a deep, shaky breath at the sight of the clear liquid there.

"Okay. I'm back. Are you done cleaning him?" Ten suddenly barged into the room again, a small box in his hand. Your gaze remained on Haechan's hand out of shock, but you stepped aside slightly to give way to the other man. He quickly pulled over a small stool and positioned himself in front of the younger boy, bending over his arm while he tried to open the suturing kit he had with him.

"Good. Your wound looks cleaner now. I'll have to check first if there are any pieces of glass there. How are you feeling?" He asked Haechan, his gaze focused on the other's arm.

Immediately, your eyes fell on Ten in confusion before moving towards the other again. The latter simply winked at you in return.

He can't… he can still see the wound?

"I'm feeling great. Noona made me feel so much better. Almost like she’s magic~"

It felt like you swallowed something dry, the blockage slowly moving down your throat almost painfully. Words and phrases from the things you've read in the past couple of days jumped into your head, disconnected but also gradually making sense. When your eyes locked with Haechan again, his smile told you that he knows just exactly what you've figured out.

*******

"Kun! Pull up the cards."

You barged into the room in such a hurry that the man in question looked startled for a good moment. You went straight into the control center in the middle of the room without waiting for him, however, your hands already working over the keyboard to pull up what you needed. In your peripheral vision, you saw him finally join you after a bit, doing the same thing on the other set of controls. He still looked slightly confused, but he was able to find what you were trying to look for—the same digital deck of cards that he showed you on your first day when he was explaining everything to you about the Arcana.

"What exactly are you looking for?"

You quickly went over to his side, your eyes now set on the blown up images of the cards on the gigantic screen.

"Illusion. Dreams. Any card related to that."

He frowned. "I think illusion is The Moon card. Did you meet Chenle again? You're only meant to talk to Renjun today," he asked. In front of you, the Moon card came into focus, glowing black and gold on the screen.

"No. But I met Haechan."

"What? What do you mean you met—"

"He was rushed to the ward because he had an injury. A cut. I went in to help Ten while he was taking care of something and he—he wasn't injured at all."

The man looked absolutely confused.

"There was no blood, no wound. He did something and it wasn't there on him anymore. But Ten could still see the same cut on his skin and I couldn’t. We were not seeing the same thing. He was faking it."

The other's lips parted as he took that in. You could almost see the gears of his mind working.

"Is it similar to Chenle's? But I'm not sure if two deviants can have the same skill…"

You shook your head. You leaned over the keyboard now and started going through the rest of the cards, clicking on them randomly.

"No, I don't think so. Chenle can shift things materially, physically. Haechan is different. It's almost as if he was making illusions for other people to see. Like he creates or bends reality—"

You suddenly stopped when the picture of a new card took over the screen. Your eyes quickly took in the words that flashed on the bottom of the monitor—and then it clicked.

"This is it," you whispered. "Manifestation. What one thinks, one creates. In reverse, it means trickery. Manipulation…"

Kun finally turned to look away from you to stare at the screen. He quickly got it and the two of you were left staring at the photo glowing in front of you, an illustration of a man in a robe with his right hand up in the air in an act of conjuring something. The card flipped, showing its name and number.

01.

The Magician | IL Bagatto.

*******

CHAPTER 4

Cards Drawn:

> Soul Cards, Midnight Black

A/N: So, I was meant to post this tomorrow following my usual Friday schedule, but I felt like the chapter was getting too long lol. Thank you so much to those who have started reading the first ones. I know the overall plot is a little complicated and the build up can be painful so I really appreciate those who still find this interesting. Love you all. <3

P.S. Who is your favorite Arcana so far? ;)

Taglist [OPEN]: @negincho, @jhornytrash, @aaasteroidsky, @huangberryyy, @marijmin, @ashkuuuu, @reluctantserpent-101, @yutasnabi, @huskyhunny, @domojoo, @anaveragefangirl, @lostlovesoul11, @dreamisfelix, @lomlwoo, @coconuttiez8d

#mark x reader #jeno x reader #yandere renjun x reader #haechan x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream mafia au #nct dream imagines #nct dream supherhuman au #nct dream superhuman fic #nct dream fic #nct yandere fic #nct dream yandere fic

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xhellodollyx · 3 years

Text

Okay I will try to put my thoughts into words as to why Tiffany, the last few movies and this series, seemed off to me

For one, I know she is just as crazy and messed up as Chucky is. And he never abused her, you can see that, I've never been a fan of when people claim that or put that into their fanfics. They are both equals. But they loved each other. You can see in moments in Bride and Seed that they love each other, they're just both so fucked up that it usually ends with them trying to kill each other because sometimes they clearly cannot communicate properly. Brad and Jennifer both have said numerous times in the past (in interviews, behind the scenes stuff from past movies, the Bride movie commentary) that Chucky and Tiffany love each other, that they're equals, and other stuff along those lines. We see moments where they are soft together, in Bride and Seed, that shows that, despite everything, despite how many times they might yell, cuss each other out, or kill each other, they still always come back together. So I don't know why Don made it a point to try to completely toss all that away with how they are in the show (and with introducing the Sarah Pierce stuff in Curse but I've already complained about that a ton). Yeah they're not a healthy couple in the slightest, they're toxic (not abusive, just toxic), but they do love each other. Trust me, I am not one of those people that saw Tiffany as a Harley Quinn-esque person (mostly that she just does what Chucky tells her to do and whatnot). Chucky does sometimes treat her poorly, but he does love her, we've seen it. And she's a (not to be corny) strong independent woman. But she also has motherly instincts, loves to cook, is very much a hot goth woman who also watches Martha Stewart and tries to be domesticated. But she also loves killing. She can be both. Shes not a victim and she's not innocent. Like OBVIOUSLY. I keep seeing people say that and I agree, but lowkey, cant tell if its people misreading what i've been saying in my past criticism of the show and writing overall.

As to what I've mentioned with Tiffany's character in Curse and Cult and now this show, Don kinda wrote her more as a one-note caricature. Any depth we could have had with Tiffany as a character is just absolutely gone, especially in the show. I know she's petty but you're telling me she turned Chucky in all because he stopped wanting to kill? I would fully believe her calling the cops on Chucky if she had found out about Sarah. Completely that would have been warranted. But she really had the man she loved that she spent years trying to find in Bride, ultimately killed by the police because he stopped wanting to kill with her? 🤨

Like that's been my main issue with these flashbacks of them. Yes they obviously like killing, together and separately, we already knew that. But as i mentioned earlier with depth and nuance and something deeper characterization-wise and plot-wise, Don's writing completely made them a one-note caricature. That their love was only bonded because they loved killing? Nothing else? That, as some people have said, is just very lazy writing. And I like Don, I respect what he does, especially with the LGBTQ representation aspect (as a lesbian myself), but he definitely falls victim to lazy writing with certain plots and character storylines. I think his thought process with writing the last two movies and this show was the very much hated "subverting expectations" idea. He subverted the expectations some of us had about Chucky's backstory, and also with the backstory of how Chucky and Tiffany met. I think it was partly lazy writing and partly that as well. I have seen these characters written so much better in fanfictions over the years, both as their own characters and together as a relationship. Don kinda just resorted to having them be one-note killers with no other motivations other than that. They have no complexity to their characters whatsoever because of the writing.

I guess that's my overall thoughts on the show. That I loved some aspects, but when it comes to Chucky and Tiffany's storylines and backstories, I'm disappointed by it.

#these are just my thoughts and opinions 😅#chucky #child's play #chucky tv series #chiffany #tiffany valentine #chucky spoilers

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eunjidrabbles · 3 years

Note

YAYYYY your asks are finally open!!! hi hi im the anon may i ask for a hwasa one shot wherein reader is courting hwasa but hwasa doesn't find fem! reader attractive. after one date, hwasa decides that reader isnt really her type which r is bummed about but respects her decision. however, one day hwasa finds r's genuine character and somehow, she falls for r's charms uwu angst to big big fluff please! sorry this is long :3 i really like tropes like this thank youuu!

Just One

(I realized writing hurt/comfort stuff soothes my soul a lot. Probably because I like making it hurt and then I feel bad and try to make it warm and fluffy so no worries. Longer requests help me with plotting out the story.

Edit: Sorry this took longer than expected, I just started my first day of work again and guess who is now a barista? Also Wheein’s solo album just dropped today so go give it a listen ya’ll)

Word count: About 2.4k

Ahn Hye Jin is a goddess. Everyone who has seen her either loves her, or hate her because they want to be her. With beauty, fame and charisma that goes off the charts, who could blame when you were to be drawn in like a moth to the light? Of course given the opportunity, you chose to chase after her disregarding the fact there were probably many others like you. It was a chance given, and it would be foolish not to grab at it. Be it getting your manager to buy her favorite drinks so you can drop it off for her whenever she was at the company practicing, leaving little notes with a container of food for her to heat up when she stays back for more practicing on her own or even occasionally popping by the studio when you had some free time off your schedules, you did you best to let your presence be known to her. Management didn't know of your crush, brushing it off as admiration for your senior whose group literally built up the company, and you'd prefer for it to stay that way lest you get kicked out barely a year into debuting. Hyejin however, knew of your intentions. You've made it clear to her when you gathered up the courage to manage to stammer out a "I like you." Before you could hear whoops from Wheein and feel the stares coming from the other two older members directed at you.

Over time, you've managed to also worm your way into the rest's hearts as they realized how pure your intentions were, and how far you'd go to try take care of their strong-headed maknae. Seeing as to how Hyejin has never properly rejected you, they slowly started putting in words for you whenever they spot your gifts for her, planting what they'd hope to be the seeds that will help make their youngest happier. It started from "Look at how thoughtful she is!" To “Hey look, guess who dropped by again today~?” Each time, she would only smile and wave away at her member’s teasing as she accept her gifts with a smile.

The small interactions with Hyejin and the rest of her members were great as you slowly got to know them more, just as friends. Sharing jokes and they would sometimes even invite you up for a meal together. It wasn’t until a few weeks later of skirting around your very obvious infatuation with Hyejin did you actually put up your mind to do something. Nodding to yourself, you gathered up the courage and knocked on the door. Cheers were heard from inside and as routine, Hyejin came to the door to open it for you. Passing over her drink with a smile, she stood waiting accepted it with a small chuckle and thanks. Right before she turned away, you called out to her. Looking back at you questioningly, you took a few deep breath to try settle your pounding heart. “One date. Just give me one date. I’ll show you that I’m serious.” You could see her eyes widen in surprise and slowly cover her mouth with her hand. You shift nervously, not daring to break the eye contact. She was the one who looked away first and her gaze fell to the ground, seemingly deep in thought. Noticing the longer than usual interaction, the rest of the members curiously peeked over one another to observe the situation. Putting the pieces together, Wheein shared glances with the older members and back to her best friend and voiced out her thoughts. “Why don’t you give it a shot?” Slowly looking over to her, Hyejin studied her expression, followed by the encouraging looks Moonbyul and Yongsun was giving before going back to her own thoughts for a bit longer. All the while you stood, head slowly lowering, feeling your throat and chest slowly coiling and tightening on themselves while you prepare yourself for the rejection incoming. “So what do you have in mind?” Snapping your head up, you find her staring right at you. You could almost hear your own heartbeat as you let out a breath you didn’t even notice you were holding. Glancing past her, you see the enthusiastic nodding and thumbs up given to you by the rest of her members and you pulled out your phone. “I’ll text you the details?”

As far as records go, the company only saw this meet up as a nice meal between a member of their top girl group and their solo artist. You’ve managed to book a small table at a café that you were introduced by a few friends. It was a cozy little place near an alleyway, just a little out of the way of where the crowd would usually go. Settling down in the corner, you were both handed a small menu. Skimming over, you decided to place an order of a cup of coffee and a macaron for a sweet treat. Hyejin took a little longer to look through the menu but also ended up with just a cup of coffee. There was an awkward tension in the air as you constantly try to find topics to speak about to engage the woman sitting opposite of you when all you could get in reply was a few words in reply. With a smile, you could only nod and let the silence blanket the both of you as your drinks and snack came. Every time you looked up from sipping your drink, you could see her silently in her own thoughts and decided not to bother her lest she finds you annoying. It was when you were on the last few sips of your drinks did Hyejin finally speak up.

“I don’t want to be harsh but I don’t think we’d go well together.”

The words echoed in your head as they processed into what she was trying to say. You swallowed down the harsh reality that hit you right in your chest and nodded with a small understanding smile. “Thank you for at least giving me a chance, and of course, being honest with me.” Nodding back, Hyejin went back to sipping her drink as the silence once again settled between the both of you, this time for you to quietly nurse your heart. Setting down the empty cups, the both of your stood as you pulled out your phone and texted your manager to pick the both of you up. While waiting outside the café, Hyejin couldn’t bring herself to look at you. A part of her felt that she had led you on, despite it just being that she couldn’t understand of her own feelings. To make everything simpler for everyone, the best choice would be to reject and ignore it. A hand coming towards her in the corner of her eye surprised her, and with that she finally look at you again. “Friends?” Raising your eyebrow, you silently prayed that whatever happened wouldn’t ruin whatever relationship you had between her and her members. “Friends.” Raising her hand to shake yours, a smile bloomed across her face in relief that you held no anger towards her.

You understood that it will definitely take time to get over the fact that you had a crush on Hyejin, so you chose not to avoid it. Instead, you faced the rejection straight on, and went up to Mamamoo’s studio even more often to interact more with everyone whenever you had the time. Every now and again, you’d also have a member or two pop up in your studio to join in the chaos, much so adding up to your manager’s headache of trying to keep your appearance as an idol intact, knowing well fully that the random moments you shared with the group would most likely air out as update episodes in your mini vlog series. It took a while to realize that by taking a step back from pursuing Hyejin, that you got so much more closer to her. The awkwardness melted away and what was left was a healthy friendship.

It also took a while for Hyejin to realized how much more she had been looking to spend time with you. Or that the increasing number of comments in your vlog series were commenting on how much and fondly she looked at you. It became almost a daily thing to exchange greetings from dawn and annoy one another through text till dusk fell. It got to the point where whenever her phone’s notification rang, does she perk up and rush to it and if it was not a reply from you, she would falter and according to Wheein, “Look like a kicked puppy.” If you had a schedule when she was free, she sometimes tag along with an excuse to keep you company but if you could see her behind all the staff, you’d notice her intense gaze as she studies you. The way you moved, the way you laughed, and even to the way your chest rise and fall as you breathed. Part of her knew what was happening, but she refused to act upon it. It wasn’t fair that you were the one who risked your career to chase her only for her to reject you, and now suddenly changing her mind. You on the other hand didn’t seem to notice all the extra attention you were getting from her and it annoyed Hyejin to a certain extend. She wanted the smiles you gave to everyone directed to only her. She wanted the jokes you shared and the laughter you gave to just be shared between you two.

It drove her crazy, the more she explored her feelings for you. It made her feel things that scared her. Scenarios would appear in her head as she watches you interact with others. Your words would race through her mind as she goes about her day. Images and memories of your gifts and notes pulled on her heartstrings. Maybe. Hyejin silently thinks to herself. Just maybe, I might be crazy. Chuckling to herself as she stopped in front of a set of doors, she sighed. That’s still better than letting someone else hold you, right? Looking up at the sign that stated the opening hours, she pulled out her phone to do a quick check of the time and pushed open to step through the set of doors.

The bass vibrated throughout the entire room as music boomed from the speakers in the practice room. Your eyes were trained upon your form as you connected each movement of your body to flow with the beat of the music. Seeing how focused you were on perfecting the dance routine, your manager could only sigh in failed attempt of trying to make you promise to not overwork yourself when your comeback was right around the corner before leaving for the night. At some point through the evening, you had shed your hoodie, leaving you in a cooling sports bra and sweat pants. Despite the lesser layers, you were drenched in sweat, and your hair had fallen from their ponytail, leaving them sticking uncomfortably to your face and body. Your body cried out in exhaustion as you slowed to a halt along with the music and panted to catch your breath. Slowly pushing yourself upright again, you groaned, body resisting the idea of one last run through of the routine. Right as you were about to hit the play button on your phone again, the soundproofed door of your studio swung open.

Your squeak echoed the room and your eyes darted up and widened in surprise to meet hers through the mirror’s reflection. It took a second for your body and brain to relax when you realized that the intruder meant no harm when you noticed both her hands were occupied. Slowly turning and walking over to the back of the studio where she had moved from the door, you look at Hyejin questioningly before your gaze dropped to the contents in her hands. Instead of putting it down onto the table, she waited for you to walk over to her to pass you the warm cup of coffee and a paper bag. Carefully hold the cup in one hand, you opened the bag to see a lone macaron sitting inside. A wide smile bloomed on your face when your body understood that the sweet treat was a form of energy for you to function and you eagerly pushed it up the bag to take the first bite. You then remembered the very person that delivered it to you and with your mouth full, you could only smile even wider to her as you closed your eyes in bliss as the sugary snack awoke your senses again.

“One date.”

Your eyes snap open as your jaw stopped its movement.

“One date. Just give me one date. I’ll show you I’m worth your time.”

Your smile slowly dropped as you processed what you just heard. Looking back down at the bag and the cup of drink, you recognized the name imprinted on its sides. It was from the very café you two went to on your first and last date. Forcing yourself to look busy by continuing to slowly chewing the one bite in your mouth, you subtly turned your head towards the mirror to look at the woman, not daring to risk eye contact by looking directly at her. Even from the mirror, you could see her intense gaze, as she fidgeted her hands behind her, anxiously waiting for your answer.

“So? What do you say?”

Swallowing the now mushy mess in your mouth, you slowly looked right back at her. Lifting the drink to your lips and taking a small sip, you looked for traces of this encounter merely being a bad joke of the rejection you faced at her hand a few months ago. When you could find none, you slowly lowered the drink and sighed. Even at such mundane actions, you could see her tense up in anticipation.

You chuckle suddenly, breaking the silence and causing Hyejin to flinch. That in return made you chuckle even harder when her look of confusion and surprise slowly melt away as your laughter went on. Finally taking a breath to stop, you smiled and answered her.

“I was hoping it will be more than just one.”

#mamamoo imagines #hwasa imagines #hwasa x reader #I highkey give up on tagging properly #just look at my masterlist #hope yall enjoy

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writeblrcafe · 2 years

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Digital interview with @randonauticrap

Madame L. sits down at a table in Writeblr Café and orders a chai latte. We start talking about her writing. She writes poetry, fan fiction, short stories and a book! Her writing includes many genres, including from fantasy, romance, thriller, crime, mystery, paranormal and realitic fiction.

What got you into writing?

When I was in 6th grade, one of my teachers created an assignment where we would have to choose a poem to memorize. She had a box full of poetry books and allowed us to sift through them. I chose a book of poems by Edgar A. Poe, and was immediately captivated by his use of metaphor and imagery. His words transported me directly into the heart of his emotions, and I couldn't tear myself away. I learned and memorized all 3 1/2 pages of The Raven for the assignment, and I realized in the process of doing so that writing was calling to me in a form it never had before. I answered the call and I have been writing ever since, never forgetting the author who started it all. I try to pay little tributes to him throughout a lot of my horror/thriller pieces.

What inspires you to write?

The simplest answer is the truest in this case: my emotions. I can't properly put words to paper (or screen, in most instances these days) without some kind of emotional investment in what I am penning. What I am feeling at the time decides which genre I take hold of, and it often decides which character I decide to focus more deeply on for the time being. It also can help decide what part of a story I write; for example, if I am feeling down and I know that my character is going to feel the same way at some point in the story, I use that state of being to encompass that character's pain in a more raw and evocative way. Even if I haven't reached that part of the story yet in my continuity writing, I may skip ahead to write that scene and then put it to the side until I am ready to insert it into the full context of the plot.

Which are recurring themes in your writing?

Loneliness is a big one, as well as a desire to be understood. I feel these emotions very strongly in my life, so they often appear in my characters in one way or another. Strength of self is another very important characteristic that tends to show up in my stories, as well as the not-so-graceful intensity that comes with such a strong energy.

How would you describe your writing style?

I feel as though my writing style leans towards narrative pretty often. I go into detail about the descriptors of a person and place and situation more than anything else. You'll usually find little dialogue, but a lot of metaphor and chroniclization.

Have you already published your writing?

Sadly, I have not. However, I am currently working on a novella that I hope to publish upon completion!

Tell us more interesting stuff about you!

Interesting stuff? Wow, you're really making me think now. The most basic knowledge about me is my ridiculously intense love of Halloween, fall, and anything cosy. I am a bona fide coffee addict (there is a crazy story behind this well-earned title, but I believe it's a bit too long to tell here), I am single (against my will), and I have two cats. I am pretty much the little eccentric cat lady down the street that makes hot chocolate for everyone when it's cold out. I am more sarcastic than is good for me -- if you had not already discerned that much from... Well, everything above, and I am a redhead, which I feel like pretty much just explains my whole personality in a better way than I could with descriptors. Thank you for creating this survey and opening it up to all writers! I genuinely enjoyed going through these questions and talking about what I feel makes me a writer, and I'm sure others will feel the same!

Get interviewed by Writeblr Café!

Any writer can participate. Just fill in this form. Maybe we will host interviews in an audio format if you are more interested in listening to an interview than reading it.

#wc.interview #digital interview #writers get interviewed #writing community #spilled ink #writers network #writers on tumblr

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bronwiebear-brad · 4 years

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Giiiiirl! Listen this I know u only write about Bradleyboy but I see that u fancy the holland boys and haz 😏😏 (who doesn't right?) so pleaseeeee write something with them, pleaaaaaaaaase 🥺love you writing so much it would mean the world for me 💛

A/N: You all know that I cannot resist my sweet anon’s requests, so consider this an early christmas gift. Lmao. I hope your staying healthy. Btw I’ve choosen the most soft boy ever aka Harry Holland because that boy is lovely af - also this is my first time writing about the boys so pls be gentle 💛

Warnings: nothing much just a few curse words.

Spending quarentine and 24/7 trapped inside a house with the most loud, messy, cheeky boys ever wasn’t actually in your dream plans. Everyone got a part of their day busy, either was college, work, cooking, drinking, boys silly videogames challenges, boardgames and a lot of pranks. But apart from all that quarentine was making you guys build strong bonds.

You all tried to be active, productive and keep the days busy. But let me tell you this: that boys were always up to no good.

You were siting in the living room with your laptop in the coffee table and paying extreme attention to your zoom class. Harrison was in his, writing a few emails and you both were enjoying the quietness of the room while your teacher rambled about something important.

You totally missed Harry cheekily giggling and running into the living room, disappearing right after into the backyard. But little boy Tom definitely not gone unnoticed when he came shouting and shirtless, trying to catch his brother, making a quick appearence into your lecture since you had your camera and mic on the moment he passed behind you.

“HARRY! YOU’RE GONNA GET IT, YOU DICKHEAD!” Tom disapeared into the backyard door and Harrison looked at you trying his best not to laugh. You were looking at your classmates, with your face pale and widen eyes as you were noticing some of them laughing, freaking out and most importantly, your teacher had this serious unread expression on his face.

“That's it, I'm completely done”. You thought to yourself while smiling awkardly to the camera and thinking about million ways to murder Thomas freaking Holland.

"Wait, wasn't that dude, Spiderman?" Your teacher asked making Harrison and the rest of the class brust in laughter, meanwhile you grew red.

Apart from ruining zoom lectures, spending quality time with your bestfriends was the best thing. But most important, spending quality time with your very special friend Harry. Of course he didn’t knew he had a special place in you heart - and you meant to keep that way - but you two were very close and as the days went by it was more dificult to pretend that he didn’t make your stomach funny every morning when he came down and kissed your cheek, smelling heavenly with his sleepy eyes and messy curls.

Harrison was the mainly reason you've met Harry and the rest of the boys. It was during a summer break where you joined an workshop to learn more about the process of making movies and writing scripts. You didn't want to persue that professionally, but you needed exciting things to do on your summer break from high school so why not join a class to discuss movies?

You two got along right away after the teacher set you together to recreate a new ending for Titanic. You both did a comic approach, making everyone in the group laugh and even the teacher said that you were really a good duo. You had the writing skills and he had the acting. You were pretty unaware of Harrison’s truly intentions tho. But the minute he noticed your general interests about certain genres and cinema in general, the way you discuss the photography, scripts and plots even tho you didn’t understand very well about it and just by the way you stood in the theaters reading all the credits after a movie just ended. All of that simple things, reminded him of something. Or to be more precised, someone. That someone was nothing less than Harry Holland.

So he knew that he had to settle up you two, that you two would get along very well but Harrison wasn't going to force it, it had to happen naturally. That's why you started to hang out more with him. Going out to lunch or drink coffee, study sessions in the library, parties or movie sessions in his house and that eventually, gave you Tom.

Tom usually came with Harrison to the study sessions, studying his scrips and even joined the workshop at one point. Sadly he got off when he started working on the first big challenge in his career and all the Spiderman thing.

You three grew together and everyone started to getting in the right way of their lifes. Of course Tom knew his best friend's intentions from the start and decided to join the team of cupids.

It was needed one night at the pub, where you three were drinking and having a good time, to steping the plan to a whole another level.

"Guys, I'm going to quit the workshop." You said camly making Tom frown and Harrison almost spit his drink.

No no no, his plan didn't even started yet!! He thought.

"What? Why?!" Tom whined. After he had to quit it because his filming career, he was truly excited about his two best friends doing something similar to his job. He like the heated arguments and opinions about the films on movie nights, like you all had some sorta of film club.

"Did you got a boyfriend, is that it?" Harrison talked curious. "He doesn't let you hang with us?" He leaned on the tabled talking low as if he was saying a secret password.

"No Harrison, I'm still single. What the hell?" You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

This man and his obsession with my lofe life. You thought.

“I'm starting college and thats a big deal. I'm not going to have time to commit there, I only joined it as a hobby and it's been two years, guys." You smiled at them noticing their attention on you. "Also, I'm searching for a flat here, downtown before it all starts and I'm not finding anything." You simple explain frowning and taking a long sip on your drink and Tom's eyes lit up. He was proud of his flash thinking. Even if sometimes he wished he could just shut up and don’t say stupid things as his brothers would say to him.

"Move in with us, there's enough room there!" He let out excited. His eyes moved to Harrison and the blonde boy raised an eyebrow thinking further and understanding his best friend cheeky expression.

"Yeah, you could join us, darling. Real estate is a mess these days" Harrison smiled widely and your jaw dropped.

Are they serious right now?

"As if you knew about real estate." Tom rolled his eyes and Harrison playfully smacked his head.

"Uh-I-I don't know... You don't live there alone, what about the other guys? I don’t want to change the frat crazy house of yours.." You weren't sure if it was a good idea to move to a house without asking the other people who lived there.

"Oh you mean my brother Harry?" You nod after whatching Tom carefully. "He is super excited to met you, we’ve talk a lot about you". He simply let out making Harrison widen his blue eyes.Tom and his big mouth.

"Wait what?!" You asked being caught in surprise.

Three years later and there you were, standing in the kitchen, after Tom cooked dinner - by cooking you mean ordering - since it was your and Harry's turn to wash the dishes. As you washed the plates, he dried them with a white towel and was humming a song that was playing from his playlist. - swear that boy had a playlist for everything.

"Did you and Tom got your script thing sorted out yet?" You asked while passing a plate under the water. He stopped singing and listened to you carefully.

"Yeah, we are pretty far ahead. Moving to find a good plot. It's pretty hard" He answer grabbing the plate from your hands and noticing your eyes on his face, blushing slightly. "Don't tell Tom but I can give you the abstracts if you want to have a read? I know how much you love to read." He smiled and looked at your face properly. You were smiling widely and his heart softened finding your dimple extremely cute.

"Really?!" You sound so excited that he chuckled nodding.

"Of course. You're running out of books to read, I was planing on giving you one for Christmas but-" he continued driyng the plates but got caught in surprised when you kissed his cheek and said thanks. Seconds later he was right back in the kitchen after a short trip to the moon. "How's the online classes going?" He smiled, still blushing from your previous interaction, and looked at your face.

"It's going good." You stopped for a few seconds just admiring his face and the way his curls fell into his face lazily. He looked extremely cute in that green sweater. "I think my teacher fancies me more now. After the litle acident and knowing I share roof with spiderman, the dude." You said with a funny expression and you both laughed.

"Glad I could contribute on such achievements, miss." He bumped his shoulder into yours playfully. And you laughed even more. Your giggles filling the kitchen and besides the music playing on his playlist, Harry swore it was the most beautiful melodies he ever heard.

You two returned your attention to the sink and as you were doing it you got caugh in a Arctic Monkeys music playing and trying to remember the lyrics.

Click.

Your attention was brought back after hearing a camera and seeing a flash. Harry was still looking at you thru the lense with a lovely smile.

"Harry? Oh my god, no!" You blushed at his bold moves. "I'm looking horrible right now. Why did you take a picture?"

"Nonsense. You look so cute while doing the dishes." He turned the camera, showing you the picture and you blushed even more.

"Eww. Please, delete it." You warned and he chuckled putting the camera straps above his neck and resting the camera on his chest.

"I'm not going to delete it, love." He kept his task as you. "Sorry not sorry." He laughed maliciously and you rolled your eyes.

"You're going to delete it." You looked at him and he clicked his tongue.

"Uh-uh." He hummed moving his head negatively and his curls balanced up and down. That was a good sight.

"Oh yeah?" You raised and eyebrow asking one more time and didn't even gave him the time to turn your direction. Your hands already throwing him foam and he stepped back, foam hitting his hoodie and his chest.

He smirked but his hands went to his camera, inspection it.

"Oh shit, the camera." Your mouth making a "o" shape. "Im sorry H, I didn't thought about it." You pouted giving him the most apologetic smile and he pulled a poker face at you for a few minutes.

You were starting to believe that you actually broke the device but then he started to laugh hard.

"It's water proof, dummy." He showed you his tongue and hit you smoothly with the towel in your face.

"You absolute arse!" You thrown him more foam and after a peace threaten by his hands up, he finally stopped laughing. "Im serious now, delete the picture, carrot." You warned and he laughed at the nickname.

"I think I'm going to set it as my wallpaper." His words rolled out of his tongue so easily as he concentrate on drying the plates again and you didn't even moved from your spot, getting caught by his words.

"What?" You asked finally, studying his face and his eyes opened widely. "Harry why use my picture as your background?" You dried your hands.

Did I said that out loud? Damn it, Harry you fucking dick. He thought.

"Hmm..." He swallowed. "It's a really nice picture. You look rather pretty.... And I-uh kinda like you, I guess." His hands scratching his head and his blood stopping running thru his body. Well there wasn't no intention of hidden it now.

"Oh I'm so enjoying this." Tom said to Harrison, as they were siting across the room in the couch watching the whole scene in silence. You two didn't even noticed them spying.

"It's a romcom and we were the directors of it." Harrison joked and Tom chuckled.

"Thanks." You smiled and went to hug Harry. "You look rather pretty too." You said into his shoulder and earned a kind smile from him "Look." You were closer to him and your head moved back to look into his eyes properly, his hand traveled to your back and laid way to high for your liking. But it was Harry, and he was always so respectful that he didn't want to be sneaky or ruin the moment by placing his hands too down. You found that gesture so cute.

"I think I kinda like you, too." Your face got closer to his and his eyes closed feeling your hot breath hit his face. You stand there admiring his freckles for minutes.

"Do we have to move their heads too?" Harrison asked whispering. The duo was watching the scene unfold ahead of them with frowning expressions.

"Why aren't they kissing?" Tom dramatically pulled a face as if their plan came out totally wrong after all those years of dedication.

Harry started to dance slowly, his lashes clicked a few times and he opened his eyes. And you followed him. You both had silly smiles on your faces and after a long time of slowly dancing in his arms. He lean in, kissing you passionately. And you returned the kiss, like you meant to tell him that you loved him all along.

Continuously gags and whistles followed by an loud “FINALLY” from Harrison could be heard from the kitchen making Harry and you pull back from the kiss and stare at the boys. You both smiled and kissed again.

"Oh get a room you two!" Tuwaine shouted after entering the kitchen surprisingly and seeing you.

Despite that, you two didn't pulled back and Harry gave them the middle finger, covering your faces and the kiss with his hand, from the sneaky bastards across the room.

"We've created monsters" Tom's statement made everyone laugh.

#Harry Holland #harryholland #harry holland request #tom holland #harrison osterfield #harry holland #Harry Holland imagine #Harryholland #holland brothers #Holland boys

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petiteyoon · 4 years

Text

bunny ears — yoonkook | 10

⚠️ ATTENTION : This chapter contains described smut ! If you're a minor or uncomfortable with this, please read until the cut. The story won't be compromised.

A/N: it's a little short without the smut part, I'm sorry :cc I hope you like it. It's been a while since I've really wrote something, sooo constructive criticism is well accepted!💜

10: 100% brat tamer

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SUMMARY

-> fic type: social media au

-> pairing: rapper!yoongi x camboy!jungkook

-> genre: crack, smut, maybe angst

-> warnings: swearing

-> plot: Yoongi uses masturbation as stress relief and he has a favorite camboy: bunnybun. Everything's fine until Hoseok mistakenly exposes him for this.

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09 <- masterlist -> 11

Warnings : smut, male masturbation, non-con voyeurism? (idk,, jungkook jerks off while watching yoongi on screen), it gets pretty intense towards the end, lil angst because poor koo regrets what he has done </3

Word count : 1k more or less

Two hours earlier

“Actually… I'm going to start in a few minutes” Jungkook muttered while setting up his computer, his phone squished between his right ear and shoulder. “What? No! -he furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched up his nose- I don't want you to watch, Taehyung” he rolled his eyes.

Taehyung kept bugging him about watching his camshow; a thing he never did and a thing that Jungkook, of course, won't ever allow. It would be awkward!

While he sat on the couch he turned on the TV and kept changing channels, while Taehyung, on the other hand, kept talking and talking. There was nothing interesting today. He huffed, until he came across a programme with some boys dressed rather weirdly.

He squinted his eyes, as if he wasn't able to see at that distance, and he immediately recognized the guy in the front row. Yoongi? What was he doing there?

With a quick movement, Jungkook grabbed his phone properly and stopped Taehyung from talking “Whatever Tae… maybe next time. I have to go now, see ya” he pressed the hang up button and threw the phone on the other side of the couch. He stood there, with his mouth slightly open, trying to process what he was seeing. Glancing at the clock, he shook his head and focused on his computer, trying not to get distracted by those boys. He muted the TV and started his live. He angled the webcam so his viewers couldn't see his face, as usual.

Jungkook never showed his face anywhere, because he knew that it could compromise his working life. And because he was too fucking shy for that.

However, this timid behavior captured the viewers' attention, so he became more brave and tried to change from the normal shows he did, to please his audience. His live streams were mainly about him jerking off, but sometimes he liked to push his limits a bit further… and Jimin even helped him with that a few times, but only after a hard process of convincing the bunny boy in question. At this point he tried many things such as toys, vibrators, buttplugs, ropes and handcuffs, and pathetic costumes that made the viewers go crazy.

He waited for a few minutes, watching how the comments flew in the right part of the screen. He pinched his bottom lip with his thumb and index finger, deep in thought. Was he going to let the program play in the background while he entertained his fans? With Yoongi there dressed so nicely?

Yeah the jackets and pants were fucking ridiculous in his opinion, but Yoongi made every piece of clothing fashionable if he was the one wearing it. He tried to focus on his audience, eager to see him in his most vulnerable (and hot) state. He stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and reading all the comments, “I see y'all missed me that much huh…” he grinned, licking his lips.

A lot of comments were rushing past the screen and in that moment Jungkook decided it was time to start.

He slipped his left hand under his black shirt, stroking his chest until it felt too hot to keep that on. He quickly stripped himself, throwing away his shirt and unbuckling his belt, showing his thick thighs. His dick rested heavy against his boxers, waiting to be released.

“Even if I've been absent for some time I'm afraid I can't stay long with you tonight…” Jungkook murmured as he absent-mindedly stroked his clothed member, “I hope you didn't get too much fun without me” he pouted as he gripped his tip, a hiss came out of his mouth right away.

“Where's the maid dress you ask? I forgot to put it on” he chuckled and slowly slipped a hand under his boxers “I will use it next time, I promise…” his tone became more sultry as he started to pleasure himself.

Small waves of pleasure circulated from his head to his toes, focusing around his crotch area, causing his eyes to shut and his head to roll back. He hastily removed the last annoying piece of clothing, finally showing to his audience what they were craving for.

Comments rushed even more quickly, whining and pleading for him to keep going. Jungkook knew how to keep them glued to their screen with his power bottom energy. One thing everyone was crazy about was the fact that he seemed so tough and dominant, but after some dirty words or touches? His fake persona would vanish, only to reveal a sweet boy with a really sensitive dick. And, boy, did he like when someone played along with him.

However, this wasn't the case since he didn't have much time at the moment, and since Jimin wasn't there to help him like the other times, so he had to settle just with his virtual company.

Or maybe it was his television being so distracting that threatened to make him crumble? He tried so hard to focus on the lovely words of his viewers but everytime, with the corner of his eye, he saw it. He watched him.

His quick breathing was the only thing audible in the living room, as well as the slightly wet sound of his hand gripping his lubricated shaft. His left hand reached his chest as he started to play with one of his nipples, a quiet moan slipping out of his lips. He slowed down and started to focus on his red tip, dripping with precum, and suddenly a buzz of pleasure made him twitch. As his thumb kept circling the area to keep up with that blissful feeling, he finally gave in.

His eyes shot open and moved towards the tv. Even if he couldn't hear anything, his eyes were more than enough. Those feline, cold eyes that seemed to pierce through his soul. The way his mouth would twitch in a small smile, only for his lips to be licked soon after by his tongue. And how badly he wanted to have that wet and velvety feeling all over his body.

The thing that made Jungkook almost laugh was that he didn't even know him that much. Heck, he even was Jimin's ex! And maybe he won't even hear from him anymore after what he discovered but, God, was he so attractive. He would give him his whole body, his weak self would let Yoongi do everything to him.

At this point Jungkook was jerking off at a rapid pace, without bothering about the comments or the show anymore. His eyes were solely focused on the brown-haired man in front of him. He felt so dirty about his actions… Yoongi was so perfectly unaware of what he was doing to him, of the raw feelings he was making him feel, of how quickly Jungkook would submit to him.

Jungkook already felt near the edge as he was desperately chasing his orgasm, releasing all kinds of moans from his lips; he was so fucking shameless as he pleaded Yoongi to take him as if he was there. He was completely in his own little world. He swears he maybe even called his name while he was so lost in his pleasure. Doing this while he was just observing his beautiful face felt really intense, he never did this kind of thing; it almost seemed sinful.

The last straw was when Yoongi locked his eyes with the camera for a moment; as his pupils slowly shifted, Jungkook felt like the boy was really watching him. He suddenly felt vulnerable and hopeless. What would Yoongi think if he saw him like this?

A sudden heat exploded on his cheeks and his ears were on fire. His eyes were wide open, taken off guard. It felt like there was a connection between them and it was all it took to bring Jungkook over the edge. As a blinding pleasure pulsated from the base of his cock, his thighs clenched and his hips thrusted upwards, hot strings of white cum painted his honey glowing skin as he rapidly stroked his strained member. He tried his best not to shout that name, even if he wanted to do that so badly, covering it with loud moans. As he came down his high, for a moment he found himself staring at the ceiling, his chest moving up and down as he felt completely weared out.

With heavy breathing he read a few comments and decided to call it a day. He kindly said goodbye to his viewers and ended the livestream.

He brought one of his fingers up to his lips, sucking the digits clean, tasting himself. He glanced at the TV again and turned the volume up, a whimper escaped from his lips the moment he heard Yoongi talking.

What he did was really wrong. He felt like he wasn't capable of looking at Yoongi in the same way as before and he felt so guilty. How could he masturbate while watching a person? A person that he kinda knew?

He wasn't a thirsty fan that jerked off with the photos of his favorite singers, goddammit. He wasn't a teenager in the middle of his puberty. And most importantly, he shouldn't be aroused by his best friend's ex, who didn't even want to deal with him! And who was an Asshole, with a capital A.

He reached for some tissues to wipe the dried cum from his chest and tossed it away with a heavy sigh.

He sat there, still with his crotch exposed as he started at the black screen of his computer, shame slowly consuming him, the faint sound of the TV still going on in the room.

How was he supposed to look at Jimin now? Should he tell him? He really messed up this time.

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having-a-hyperfixate · 3 years

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The Final Day’‘

This is absolutely going to be long and rambley af so I’mma just put a cut here. This is just one massive post for the entire rest of the game.

Rindo is back in the RG somehow. Which makes less than no sense. What was that crazy beam. Shibuya is GONE there isn’t an RG to send him back to, even if someone did want to send him back?

That beam reminded me of the Jesus beams not gonna lie.

But… Fret. Presumably Nagi and Beat too. They’re. Gone. Poor Rindo… That’s the worst kind of gaslighting. Reality itself is gaslighting this poor kid. ‘Your best friend in the world is gone, so gone that no one remembers him. You don’t even get to mourn properly because there is no one TO mourn.’ I am also not okay.

I assume this random talking to us at Hachiko is the dude I saw a brief glimpse of in a screenshot from the final trailer. Hazuki Mikagi, okay. Everything about this is supremely weird.

Leading this weirdo around and he asked how we feel about emotions? Um, what?

Was he responsible for that beam of light?

This whole thing is extremely unsettling, I don’t think I like it. The music is all… serene, this guy keeps asking existential questions, who even comes up to some kid clearly having a bad day and demands a tour of the city.

He knows Rindo’s name even though we never told him. Not sure if that was a slip or an intentional nudge that Something is going on but there we go.

‘I should take this chance to apologize for Kubo. He’s a real piece of work.’ WHAT. YOU SEND HIM TO SHINJUKU?!?! IS THIS KID GOD!? WHAT!??!

‘Exorcised’. Like a demon. Which is a psychic rank you can get in the first game, and probably this game, ergo, a thing that exists in this universe.

Okay. So this Hazuki guy is Something Else. I dunno if he’s an Angel or higher or WHAT. He’s something. And he “exorcised” what Fuckwad had Fallen to when he decided not to stop at Shinjuku and continue on to Shibuya. But he only did this after Rindo faught so hard to stop it. And then he gave Rindo what he thought Rindo wanted. And now he’s here trying to understand why Rindo is miserable. Which to us, as humans, is obvious: the people he loved, the connections and family he had made through the game are all gone and worse, no one remembers they ever existed.

And now he’s being offered the chance to try again. This feels like a double edged sword. And I don’t care.

Okay I actually kind of appreciate the thing Hazuki is pulling here. He knows what it is that Rindo wants, I’m pretty sure he’s listening to his thoughts, actually, and in order to make Rindo own up to it he’s arguing the ‘no’ position. Giving Rindo someone to argue against so he can convince himself.

WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAPPEN AT UDAGAWA.

Bruh some of these clips were in the announcement trailer.

(I can’t wait to read the secret reports. That’s gonna be a wild ride.)

Oooooh that’s what ‘exorcised’ means. That is hardcore. He definitely deserved it but that is uh. Slightly inconvenient.

Can we actually contact Rhyme this time PLEASE. Oooh Rindo worked out Kaie is waiting for Rhyme. :O I’M FINALLY GONNA GET MY MASSIVE COUNTER OFFENSIVE FUCK YES. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH I’M PUMPED LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOO!!!!

Who’s gonna protect them. Beat. Really. Just give them the damn pins at this point. They both know their ways around a fight and Kaie might need the backup. If we lose, we’re all toast regardless, and if we win everyone gets put back where they belong.

AAAAAAAAAAAH SHE’S HERE!!! RHYME!!!! Aw… She can’t see Neku and Shoka cuz they’re actually dead. That’s really depressing. Makes sense but like. Oof. Especially for Neku.

I love that Rhyme still has a saying for everything.

This timeline is going to be a mess by the time I get everything positioned correctly lmao

Beat’s ‘How do you know about my sister?! Right, future.’ is never going to NOT be funny. It’s very refreshing to have a time travel plot where people just listen when he tells them shit needs to happen.

Is it acutaly Shiki time ohh my god. I might cry. Please tell me she has a face now. If her face is still illegal I will actually scream.

I’m offended. We didn’t get to go see Shiki. The betrayal. OH but now we might be? Stop playing with me, game. GIVE. ME. SHIKI.

Rindo was freaking out that we weren’t gonna be able to get rid of all the Noise around the café and I definitely threw my hands up and yelled when I saw the word ‘zeptogram’. And I read it before he said it, cuz I read v. fast. Nice to see you again, idiot. Please don’t go berserk again.

I am. Very impressed that Minamimoto managed to work out where the Dissonance Noise are coming from, down to the exact energy source that creates them. He nailed it. Well done sir.

I think… he’s proposing we awaken the city and use the energy generated by the thoughts and emotions of the living people to neutralize some of the Dissonance Noise that are waiting in the pin. Erode some of its power.

“How about this: I’ll talk, you type.” Lmao.

I got denied Shiki again. Part of me is annoyed. The other part of me is like ‘are they saving her entrance for when she can see Neku again properly because I can live with that’.

OH the Hishima cutscene is voiced now OKAY. Guess that means this is the one. Rhyme is voiced too. This is gonna be it.

And she speaks Minamioto. Coo.

Huh. Neku’s power is to sync with people. Which he learned to do in the first game. From Mr H, with the harmonizer pin. (Twister is playing and I have Emotions help) And now he’s gonna do it on an absolutely MASSIVE scale. This is insane. I am 1,000% here for it. Sync, Dive, Remind. And if I had to guess, we’re doing this atop 104.

Alright Shiba. ‘Mere. Tsugumi’s eyes aren’t all freaky anymore yay. Oh snap. He’s gonna unleash the Plague Noise against the Dissonance ones. Nice. Turnabout is fair play. I’m kinda sad Fuckwad isn’t here to witness that.

Alright. Change. Our. Fate.

SHIIIIIIIIIIKKKKKKKKKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I gave myself a headache ow.

“07734.” “Ew. Hey! Don’t just spout off numbers and walk away, you jerk!” That was amazing.

FUCK ME SIDEWAYS. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. NO. NO WAY. I DIDN’T THINK THERE WAS ANY WAY. OH. MY. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. This is the first time Neku’s seen him since Joshua failed to stop Coco from killing him. I’m. A puddle. Help. Neku looked so happy. My cat is slightly concerned haha.

Neku still holds his hands like he’s got the headphones. The same pose as in the first game when you scan. This gives me all the feels.

“They’re just mindless thoughts” Okay so I’m mentally exhausted at this point and I processed that as ‘thots’ and it was hilarious. BEGONE THOTS.

Okay this thing right here? This is a final boss. And it is cool as fuck. Too bad it’s trying to END ME. So cool. SO. COOL. Here comes phase 2 lol. I died and had to redo it. FML.

That. Was awesome. A worthy successor to the epic final strike of the first game. 999% eh?

I continue to not like Shinjuku rules. Once you’re a Reaper, leaving means you get erased once the game ends? Disrespectfully, fuck that. Oh don’t you dare, Shoka. Don’t. You. Dare.

Oh, Joshua is here. PLEASE. Lmao Shoka’s reaction. I’m sure he appreciates that, the drama queen.

*facepalms* Joshua strikes again. I’ve missed you, you little shit. You are terrible, but I missed you. Rindo, I’m pretty sure she’s fine. I think captain helpful over here reincarnated her for you. Since you saved him and his city. I guess I’ll see though.

Uzuki and Kariya continue to be adorable. I love them. And yeah, good luck calling in that debt from Minamimoto, Coco. Gooooood luck.

I’m having a lot of Joshua centered emotions right now there is too much Joshua all at once help. “I should have known I could trust you.” You are killing me dude. You really, really should have. I’m going to turn that line over in my head for way too long, I just know it, but let’s try to get through this before my brain turns off completely. “Let’s not keep her waiting.” OKAY THANKS I’M GONNA CRY AGAIN.

What Hazuki was saying about ‘purifying’ as opposed to ‘destroying’ Shinjuku makes me think that restarting it in some form was always part of the plan, so hopefully they’ll have luck with that. It’s still profoundly fucked up that any of that happened, and even more so that it was sanctioned. I’m. Going to be hung up on that for a while once it sinks in.

This poor idiot hitting on Rhyme is about to get got oh no XD

Shiki is breaking my heart. Aaaaaaaah!!! Reunioooooon.

Ooof it’s been a month since Rindo saw Shoka. Big oof. Joshuaaaaaa.

And then they almost got hit by a car lmao. OMG HE MISSED HER FRIEND REQUESTS AHAHAHAHAH YOU GOOBER. Neku really should have warned them that Joshua is Like That lol. Even when he’s being helpful it’s in the must backhanded way possible.

I would very much like to know why on earth Shinjuku needed to be obliterated though. Like. Does that… Happen often? Maybe the secret reports say.

Speaking of, time to get those, along with the rest of the trophies.

!!!! The title screen updated, NICE. Can’t let anyone who hasn’t beaten it see that but NICE.

There’s another Another Day. Oh boy. I am not ready for that madness yet.

Random thought as I was moving this from word, where I typed it: I’m really, really fucking glad they didn’t decide to deal with Mr H the way they dealt with sleezy mcfuckwad. That would have been… I don’t have a word.

#let's liveblog: neo twewy #w3d7''#neo twewy spoilers

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wine-dark-soup · 3 years

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OKAY STORY TIME YOU GUYS

I could have become a gm on this mass effect forum but they refused because i was about to start my hypokhâgne and said i would have too much work to properly assume the role of a gm. They were right lol i wrote ONE roleplay in one year. BUT it was my best rp. The funniest to write also.

it was a "flashback" rp taking place several decades before me1. very easy to do when you're an asari because asari live for 1000 years

I roleplayed an asari matriarch named dashanxa t'pradma that was eavily inspired by the bene gesserit (was just done with the dune cycle by then). She was a leader of a cult trying to bring back the Goddess in asari politics. Yes a religious totalitarian. at the time of this rp she was still living on a planet (forgot the one we chose) and pretty much was leading her little cult and had plans to extend it but effectively started nothing evil and her followers were pretty much as dangerous as amish

My partner for this rp roleplayed an asari huntress named alessa. Alessa just got almost fired (consequences from another rp) and was told to keep a low profile for a while AND while she was at it to gather informations about dashanxa.

why? because even if dashanxa's little gang seemed innocuous, some tourists were disappearing on the planet. and since you could well, force them to join your cult for them not to be seen ever again, dashanxa was a good lead. not to mention she had money and pretty much everyone hated her for investing in everything on that friendly and touristic planet.

(for once, she was innocent)

it was the BEST roleplay ever. once a week one of us posted their part, it was steady and never boring. alessa had to spy on dashanxa. dashanxa tried to recruit alessa. she tried to prove she had nothing to do with the missing tourists. we toured dashanxa's lavish manor (which twisted the mind of alessa so bad she had to sleep far away in a different hotel than the one her boss sent her in). in the end we decided to team up to find out what was really happening with the tourists.

dashanxa stayed back in her manor and i started roleplaying her second in command, Odra, who was more into spying and fighting melee combat than her High Priestess friend. Alessa and Odra had to infiltrate some storage buildings and in the end found out that the tourists were test subjects for a new toxic gas. action ensued. in the end dashanxa's name was cleared but she secretely kept the formula to create more gas. alessa went on her way not cult-ified. she and odra became "friends" as in enemies that respect each other's skills.

for like several posts dashanxa was disguised as someone else unbeknownst to alessa and there was a clue it was a disguise. we both used colors in the code to highlight when characters were talking. and i had set dashanxa color to a specific blue before she disguised herself. once she was disguised i changed the color slightly to another, lighter shade of blue. you could see it if you had good eyes or if you looked into the code of my post. i was 18 and i was crazy.

best cooperative writing experience ever. me and my partner started being penpals (email penpals?) so we could coordinate where the plot was going and we became friends in the process

#i still have his email address i should send him one again #we stopped talking after like a solid year after the end of the rp bc i was. too depressed and overworked to answer three pages long emails #i regret it #mass effect #rp

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lovelysugawara · 4 years

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Distasteful Pursuit

Kuroo Tetsuro X Reader

Plot:

Hikeji Yuna got rejected by the Team Captain of Nekoma Volleyball Club, Kuroo Tetsuro. But Yuna still tries to support him despite the annoyed look he's giving to her. What will happen when you suddenly become the team's manager?

Chapter 1

Everyone knows how much you really liked the captain of the Nekoma Volleyball team, Kuroo Tetsurou. And at the same time, you also like volleyball.

Despite being at the literature club, you can’t help but skip your club activities to watch the volleyball club’s practices or matches.

Everything else does not matter to you, or how the students look and treat you for being a weird one, but one thing is the problem.

Kuroo doesn’t like you.

“Oh, look Kuroo-san, your admirer came again.” some people are teasing Kuroo about you going to their afternoon practice.

And at the same time, you can clearly see how irritated Kuroo is about your presence.

You hold bottled water and are about to give it to him.

You run towards Kuroo who is wiping some of his sweats.

“Kuroo-san.” you said, trying to start a conversation.

“What is it that you want? Are you even allowed to come here?” Kuroo said while not looking at you.

You give him the water bottle, “D-drink this.” you almost stutter saying those two words.

Kuroo looks at the water bottle and back at you.

“Why the hell do you think I’ll accept it?” you didn’t answer, but Kuroo didn’t accept it.

He started to walk away and said under his breath the word “ crazy.”

Some students and the volleyball club members are looking at you.

You put the water bottle on your chest, hugging it.

This is the 4th time this week that you’re trying to give him water, but he keeps on declining your offer.

“You never learned your lesson, Yuna.” Yaku said as he walked at your back.

“Yaku-san,” you looked at him who was drinking from his bottle.

“How many times should I explain to you that he won’t be interested in you?” What he tells you is true.

Kuroo won’t look at you, the way you look at him.

“I-i’m not really hoping, Yaku-san. I just wanted to support him.” you look at Kuroo from where he is now standing and talking to Kenma.

He occasionally looks at you but with sharp eyes.

“Well, if he’s like that to you, guess he doesn’t want it. He’s irritated whenever he sees you. I don’t know what you did before, but Kuroo is really mad at you. Well, maybe not mad, just annoyed in your presence.”

You felt your heart sink. It’s like those words repeatedly pierce your heart and you can’t breathe.

It’s stabbing you repeatedly.

The whole school thinks of you as a weird one. You don't have many friends. You don’t talk much and are kind of distant from everybody. That may be the reason why some students bully you for being open about your feelings to the volleyball team captain.

You openly tell people how much you like him, to the point they misunderstood you as a creep for saying those words. But you know you just want to be honest with your feelings. You really admire the scheming captain of Nekoma High and wish to be confident like him. But you know well that’s impossible.

Yaku is not really a friend to you, he’s just a classmate of yours and looks after you for a while. You for a bit helped him before about the scores on volleyball practice and knew how volleyball works, you did well on the scores.

“I guess I’ll just go back tomorrow,” you said.

“You don’t have to, plus you have to work at your own club.” Yaku strongly told you that.

You looked at Yaku and smiled, “Thank you, Yaku-san, but I’ll still be here, supporting you.” You run away leaving the speechless Yaku.

“Yuna, you’re only hurting yourself in this process,” he said as he shook his head.

You were still holding the water bottle when you arrived at the literature club room. It’s only 14 members as of the moment, and since you are in your last year, you all try to recruit more people.

You tried to catch your breath, and relax before coming inside the literature club room.

“You came to the volleyball gym again?” said your best friend and your club president, Ayane.

“Calm down, I’m back. Here, water.” you give her the water bottle and you proceed to sit on the chair facing some paper works and start stacking it properly.

Ayane looks at the bottle of water, “Let me guess, Kuroo-san declined this water, right?”

You froze in your seat.

You shyly look at Ayane and start fidgeting your hands while looking outside the window.

“Yuna!” he will start to nag at you.

“Ayane, calm down, I didn’t stay longer. I just wanted to-”

“-to see Kuroo Tetsuro-san! I know! And how many times should I tell you, stop it? You already confessed to him, and he didn’t like it, remember?”

Ayane once again opened an unwanted wound 5 months ago.

You got the courage to say your feelings but got rejected by Kuroo.

It’s almost a big humiliation for you, as you confess in front of many people. But then got rejected straight to the point.

You won't forget how Kuroo’s face becomes annoyed after you say you like him. After your confession, students laugh at Kuroo, and they say he got confessed by a bakemono, which they say is you.

You unintentionally touch your hair and fix it, very anxious about how you look every time. Ayane repeatedly told you, you’re not ugly or anything.

You have long black hair, fair skin, and average height. So you know you’re not that bad. But being laughed at and being called names, you felt anxious every time you walked with so much crowd like feeling their stares and judging you.

“Yuna, just forget that bastard. I don’t know what you see in him, but he's bad news for me. You should move on.” Ayane once again convinces him to forget Kuroo.

You just nodded to finish her nagging.

Ayane smiles and goes back to his chair.

You remained silent the whole afternoon, still thinking about Kuroo.

Move on? How tho? Forgets the person you love for years now?

Kuroo is never like that to you before.

He’s changed.

Or maybe because you're you.

You confess and he doesn’t see you like how you see him.

A call from the school PA system caught your attention and woke you from your deepest anxiety.

“Hikeji Yuna, of class 3-5, please come to the principal’s office. Once again, Hikeji Yuna of class 3-5, please come to the principal’s office.”

Ayane stands up, “Please tell me you didn’t do something else, Yuna. Why the principal’s office now?”

Yuna just laughs, tapping her friend’s shoulder.

“What are you thinking Ayane, I didn’t do anything. They will probably ask me to do something like they always do. I gotta go now.” you walk confidently until you close the door of the club room.

But right after you close it, nervousness is eating you whole.

You even catch yourself hyperventilating.

Why the principal’s office?

Did someone falsely accuse you again?

Like the other time?

A year ago, someone reported you for stalking. And you don’t even know who that person is. Your parents ended up going to school to fix the problem. And that’s one of the reasons people are always falsely accusing you of being a bad person.

Your parents didn’t help at all. Instead, they blame you for whatever the reason people are looking at you like that. They didn’t even check if that accusation is true or even try listening to your explanation.

Then you just stop explaining yourself to people.

You can’t do anything but step out and lay low as much as possible, so you can graduate peacefully.

You are now standing in front of the principal’s office.

You take a deeper breath before sliding open the door.

The sunset’s made your eyes close a little bit and adjust it for a second.

You saw Coach Nekomata and Coach Naoi sitting.

“Yuna-san, I’m glad to see you.”

“N-Nekomata-sensei,” you are so speechless.

You almost ran away from that moment when the kind coach met your eyes.

Is he going to forbid you to come to the gym every afternoon?

Will he also ask you to stop your feelings towards Kuroo? Since he’s annoyed at you?

“N-nekomata-sensei, I-” you started to say your apology but he cuts you out.

“I saw how you write down the scores of the team’s performance the other day. And I find it very neat.” the kind coach said while smiling gently at you.

“So we are thinking if we can ask you to be the new manager for the team, Hikeji-san.” Naoi-sensei continues.

And you are so shocked, thinking they ask you to be their manager despite being in your last year of high school.

That made you feel happy.

But the anxiety already stops you from feeling that. Lots of uneasy feelings are eating you right now.

The feeling of being unwelcome.

“We heard you’re from the literature club.” coach Naoi continued.

“Y-yes, sensei.”

“I guess we can arrange a little bit about the schedule, right?” The kind coach also smiled at you.

“The training camp will be next week, and we would like to ask for your help with the stuff at the volleyball team.” explained Coach Nekomata.

“So in case you don’t want to continue as the manager, maybe you can just be the manager until the training camp is finished.” coach Naoi added.

“Let's say, you’ll be an acting manager for a while. Hmm?”

The kind coach gently smiles at you.

And you know you’re screwed.

How can you decline such a request?

A/N: Hi, I don't have anyone to proofread my work, I'm sorry for any grammatical errors on the series. Thank you for reading. I also posted it on Archive of our own, here is the link if you can drop bby and support me there too. thank you so much, love lots!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28267551/chapters/69271647#main

#kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!!#haikyuu to the top #kuroo tetsuro x oc

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

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Horror Villains / Misc x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: You accidentally summon Beetlejuice because he convinced you that he could help you with your Slasher problem, but he becomes an even worse problem. So, you need your Slasher to help you exterminate him, instead.

Includes: Chucky / Charles Lee Ray and Freddy Krueger

Warnings: It’s got nasty gremlin man in it (Meaning, gross language, dirty jokes and such), and also Slashers (Meaning, gore, swearing, course and suggestive language). Groping (Himself)

Notes:

Okay, those of you who were with me at MainstreamBaddies; You remember that post I wrote about some rando killer trying to get the reader, so reader goes to the Slasher that’s also trying to kill them for help?

Well this is basically that but with (Movie) Beetlejuice as the rando.

THERE WAS MEANT TO BE MORE CHARACTERS!! But its late and I wanna slep ^^ Hopefully I’ll do Ghostface and Jason tomorrow!

~~~

THE START / ‘Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice’

“So… “Worrying my bottom lip, I look from the wall where I can think properly to the small, ‘fun size’ version of ‘Beetlejuice’ who’s looking expectantly at me. Excited even.

Although I guess that’s a given. If I was that small and had the possibility sitting right in front of me, of growing back to full size, and full power again, I’d be jazzed too. But, still, there’s something very off about this guy, and it isn’t just the fact that he’s the size of maybe 2 thumbs snapped off at the knuckle and taped one on top of the other. He’s very enthusiastic.

In a Gollum-Swamp Monster-Chick Hicks kind of way.

“’So’, what? I don’t have all day baaaaaay – well, I do have all day. I got nowhere to be – not many fun joints for a guy to go to at this size, amiright? Yeah, but, that’s not the point! Do you wanna get rida’ your lil’ problem or not? Eh?” Beetlejuice is practically vibrating, like an alarm clock and I have the most impulsive urge to call his name three times just to stop it.

Luckily, I have impulse control.

“Of course, I do. I… “Eyeing him pointedly, I start wringing my hands. “I just don’t want to create a new problem, in its place.”

He rolls his dark, feral racoon-panda eyes, muttering something lightning quick to himself before throwing out his arms and yelling. “BABE! I promise ya, really, sweetheart. Baby-lemon pie-dumpling-doll-dollar-sugar-tea, I’m just gonna fix your problem! All I want in the world right now is t’ cum-plete our deal! Get rida’ your Slasher, and be on my way! Unless theirs somethin’ else you ask of me, eh? When I’m back to my normal size? You know, I’m big in all the right places sugar tit- “

I took a deep, necessary breath in when he started on the ‘something else’ and now have the required breath to drown out the last words. “Oooookay!! I wont need that.” I say quickly, as a statement. He licks his lips. “But, um… Are you sure you can get rid of them?” ‘Them’. The bane of my existence right now. The co-star in the horror movie of my life. That them.

“Trust me, babe-sickle. It’ll be sinch.” For a moment, he looks absolutely calm. No vibrating, no yelling, no talking really fast. And it hits its intended mark – my assurances. Okay.

“Alright.” I wring my hands one last time, then clap them and step back from the town diorama that Beetlejuice is roaming in. I cross my arms, then drop them to my sides and look around, then finally back at the impatient ghost… who’s doing squats. Good grief, how much energy is in this guy? “Beetlejuice.”

He gasps, jumps up to his feet, nearly falling over because his weight landed wrong and then rubs his hands together. “Here we go!”

“Beetlejuice.”

“Oh. You do it right, babe.”

Oh my god, here we go. Hopefully this can’t make my situation any worse- I mean, I am being targeted by a killer. What are the odds that this goofball of a ghost could ruin my life anymore? “Beetlejuice.”

“PRESTO!”

Human! Chucky / Charles Lee Ray – Chucky’s POV:

I figure this is going to be a pain, when a screech tears from the ugly old house before I even get in. Confused, and more then frustrated because this spells out nothing but problems for me for when I get in, instead of the nice peaceful kill I was intending to enjoy, I open the screen door -bitch didn’t even lock the front door, it’s like she wants me to kill her,- and rush up the stairs to where the sound came from. “Hold on, I’m not there yet!!”

What the hell is going on?!

“Look, in my professional experience, the screamin’ doesn’t start til the killer takes out a knife, sometimes even before but not before I even get into the house, lady. The audacity of you, here- “

What am I looking at here?

In front of my eyes, my fucking eyes, stands of course Y/N, my victim. And some kind of zebra - one that’s been dead and left out in the swamp for a fuck-long time. He’s got crazy eyes if I’ve ever seen them, and have you seen mine? That’s saying something. Who is this joker? In my coat, I grip the gun I keep just in case strangulation goes awry, but don’t bring it out just yet. Not until this guy reveals his cards, first.

The guy’s eyes flicker in smug amusement from my face, to my gun pocket -evidently, he realises something’s up. Can’t blame the guy, damnit, -, then whips right around, leaving his back wide open for me and my weapon, to my facepalming victim. I smirk at her. “I take it that’s the guy you want rid of, toots?”

“Uh… yeah… “She looks adorable and awkward. The guy lets go of her waist, which he was holding close to his body as she leaned away before, when I walked in and he literally, and I’ve never seen any person do this before, halted in his tracks. Stopped breathing, stopped shifting, it even seemed like the history around him stopped for that ‘caught’ moment. And I swear I heard the sound of record music abruptly being turned off come from his mouth.

And for some odd reason, I get the feeling he’s not human. Can’t conjure a reason why, though.

I should be saying this shit out loud, I’m wasted on myself.

Figuring this guy’s been hired to get rid of me, I take out my gun. “Okay, you’re gonna have to catch me up on what’s happening... Oh, no? Well, okay.”

BAM!

A bullet flies across the room and sticks into the freak’s chest, and that is the end of things going my way.

Because the force of the bullet somehow sends him slamming across the room and through a wall in the back. His body goes ‘poot’ down two stories outside and theirs a silence that doesn’t last long enough for either Y/N or I to digest what just fucking happened before the bastard’s grotty fucking hand spiders up my spine from behind. I wriggle out of his reach immediately on impact, because it’s like a real fucking spider, and whip around, waiving my gun- which is useless now, of course.

Games are over.

The guy looks over at Y/N and grins, throwing his arms out in a ‘ta da!’ way. She winces and just narrows her eyes in a glare. “What’d you think of that, sweet cheeks? I got a flare for the dramatic, you know? Ssssexy! Eh?” When she sticks her tongue out at him, for lack of any words to respond to that with I guess -I mean, I, can think of some choice words for the guy, but she’s clearly not as creatively gifted in the art of insult as I have been told I am. But, a tongue out works, - he grins the most fucking horny grin I’ve ever seen and clutches his sack. Her jaw drops.

“Where the ever-loving fuck did you pick crazy pants up from??” I ask, looking accusingly at Y/N. She chews on the inside of her cheeks and looks even more awkward then before.

“Truce?” She asks, instead of answering my question. I’m genuinely curious.

I roll my eyes. “Ughh, fine.”

“Oh well that won’t do,” The guy speaks up again, looking between us and letting his Johnson go, thank god. The boys have to breath! “Baby girl, blossom, light of my FUCKING DEATH! You wound me. riGHT IN THE HEART! Let me show you, sweetgums, why that was a bad idea.”

Her eyes widen, and I suddenly feel real unsafe. “How about you don’t- “

“Watch this!”

He turns to me, makes some overdramatic hand gestures, throwing his back out in the process and momentarily acting like he’s out of order.

Then he whips back into action and shoots me with finger guns,

And then suddenly everything around me looks 4 times bigger then before. Oh, well, its that or… I’m closer to the ground.

Because I’m a fucking doll again.

I slowly look up from the little black baby shoes and the edges of the godamn jean jumpsuit, to the infected condom in black and white grease paint. “… You son-of-a-bitch.”

He chuckles and turns to Y/N, and gives her finger guns too, but the only other thing that happens this time is he winks at her. “Now, baby! Time to get hitched!”

“What?!” She shrieks.

Freddy Krueger – Freddy’s POV:

“I’m going to die of boredom before this bitch catches winks. I’m gonna pummel her with the counting sheep she clearly needs when she gets here.” The corners of my mouth lift up from the deep scowl I was wearing before, at the idea. It has merit.

Behind me the fine folks of Pompeii run for their lives and a red and green striped Vesuvius explodes molten lava over their little town when I remember it’s been 2 days since she’s fallen asleep. Or found some fucking Hypnocil. Or killed herself. Who knows, really. I have a… deadly effect on women.

But damn, it would be a bummer if she killed herself. I was having fun with her. I had plans.

Have, have. I have plans. I won’t give up hope yet.

An hour, or who knows how long later -time is a human construct and doesn’t exist in the dream plain, - , I’m lying on the ground watching Psycho play in the sky when that familiar tingle rushes through me, telling me someone’s entered my world.

I’m just getting up and brushing myself off, taking my damn time like she left me to wait -besides, I can turn back time and make it seem like I appeared instantaneously if I want to. Time’s a construct, remember? And this is my world. I’m just doing this for me, to make me feel better, - when she comes out of fucking nowhere and nearly knocks me over. Im-ee-diate-ly I open my mouth to ask her why she’s so eager, but she beats me to the punch, causing me sadness.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

Hold on, I definitely think there’s something off here. Don’t I make the fucking demands?! “Bitch- ”

“Wake!”

“-I haven’t done anything to you yet.”

“Up!”

“Goddamn!”

What is going on here!?

“I’ll do anything you want, just please. Wake me up!” Her eyes are deadly serious, and I can’t help the greedy smile I get at her submissive idea. What could have made her this way? I laugh.

“Ohhh, I’ll think it over. Tempting offer, though~” She lets out a growl and let’s go of me in pure frustration, looks around quickly for something and then lays eyes on my glove. She picks it up, and my eyes widen in surprise at what she does next.

The blade slices through the skin in her upper arm before I can take any control of the situation, and a nauseous feeling suddenly rolls me and she whimpers from the pain of slicing herself open, as the world goes blurry around us and she wakes up- of course, still holding my glove, which is attached to me, so I go with her.

“Fucking he- “

Much quicker than you think it will be, we both turn up back in the fucking reality. She hops up immediately and flies across the room to a first aid box.

I’m just assuming, I mean. Because I don’t make any move to leave the bed at all and just close my eyes and groan, and resist the urge to cry.

I hate this placceeeeeeeeee.

“BABES, YOU’RE BACK!”

Now I resist the urge to scream and phase out of existence, because a man just appeared on the bed with me and called me his babes. Instead, I slowly turn my head to him and sinisterly narrow my eyes- and hope he doesn’t notice my distress from a second ago.

I’m starting to understand why Y/N was so intent on getting back here. If this guy, a dung beetle with… oh, god. Clearly, some kind of terrible illness if that smell indicates anything, was hanging around me while I slept, I’d be… slightly bothered too. If only for the stink!

He squints, and while he does, his hair flickers through the various colours in the rainbow, confused. “Sweetbottom, theirs something different about you. Did you get contacts?”

As a knee jerk reaction, I stab him in the gut with my blades. “Stranger danger, bitch!”

My panic dissolves into glee as I jerk the knives upwards… just to turn back into panic when he starts tearing all the way in half from my stab wound up to the top of his head with minimal effort from me. I gulp, and retreat from him to where Y/N is, taping her bandages securely around her arm. I gesture to the freak who’s padded onto the floor and is zipping himself back together in front of my eyeballs. “… the fuck is that?”

“That’s Beetlejuice, he’s a ghost=

“With the most, baby.” ‘Beetlejuice’ stands up straight and rests his hands on his hips, chest puffed out and winks at Y/N.

“-What do we do?” She asks, looking with wide eyes at me.

What does she think I am? The Fairy Godmother of the dead?? I’m no godmoth-

… I could use this. A slow grin spreads across my mouth. “First, you go over there and distract him.”

For a split second she looks like she’s actually going to go with it, then looks with furrowed, unimpressed eyebrows at me. ‘Beetlejuice’ makes grabby hands at us, and she starts to look more panicked by the second. “And what will you do??”

I yank the bedroom door open. “Run!!”

#Keatlejuice #Beetlejuice #Chucky #Charles Lee Ray #Freddy Krueger #Drabbles #Scenarios #Part 1 #Horror / Misc Drabbles || Part 1 #Beetlejuice x Reader #Keatlejuice x Reader #Chucky x Reader #Charles Lee Ray x Reader #Freddy Krueger x Reader

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