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magnoliamyrrh · 11 months

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@osmanthusleaf djdks im so sorry for replying in post i didnt wanna cut this up into a million bits, uve not even got to read all this cuz its long ive just got a lot going through my mind and im bad at shutting up once my brain starts going sorry 😭

for sure & well said. i fully agree, and understand having more care and knowledge for your own peoples issues, its natural; like u know example apart from ur own ex., i do know and have looked into the sex trafficking situation in the rest of the world and it horrifies me just as much and it is all connected, but end of the day, i understand most and focus most on the issues in my area and thats what i can give my two cents on more than anything. or, yea, i know abt plenty of things going on around the world, but theres also Tons that i have no clue on and overall i end up knowing more and spending more time on mostly things that i have some sort of personal connection to, like even this thing which i spend time on cuz of my own trauma; were all bound to be more immediately concerned if our own house is burning down w us in it than if the house a mile away also is, and were bound to be more interesting in why our own house burned down and who burned it down than the one a mile away, especially if the two arent connected directly. its past a point impossible for the psyche to b up to date w so much info, especially so much info on bad shit, to keep track of all of it and to feel something about all of it all the time.... if anything, i think the constant info on bad stuff everywhere happening which,,, for the most part we can do little on, is part of whats made our generations more doomful, hopeless, and lost - end of the day its good to care, but weve just got to pick some things in particular to rly care abt and if we can, try to understand them and do something about them, and hope if enough ppl do that for enough things they care about while working together, things may get better...... but also, if u say u care abt some issue, i reckon its important to care too abt other ppl caught up in it, even if its not a main focus and not dismiss it bc its not ur own shit directly 🤷‍♀️

i guess yea, the lack of knowledge isnt what bothers me at all bc god knows we all lack knowledge of plenty of things and frankly we kinda have to for our sanity. its the attitude that does and we all do it too often. like some while ago i was telling my mom u know, we (in broad ethnic&national terms) have some sort of responsability to the ppl that have been opressed in our lands and still deal w the consequences and weve got to care abt that history and struggle, not even in a sins of the ancestors way but in a we all have to try to be better way, and her first reply before we talked more was, well, whose going to help us and pay us back for communism, or serfdom, or imperialism, or slavery, or poverty? and havent we got enough of our own issues? and its like yea 😭 the world isnt fair and theres endless cycles of ppl fucking each other over and its a lot, which is why we have to try to just be kind and decent and help each other and rise each other up and come together as hard as it may be and as endlessly annoying this species may be 😭 and weve got to spend more time on how were similar and can understand each other, rather than always predominantly looking at differences, or pointing fingers, or giving in fully to our good old tribalistic mentality. theres gotta b a balance and id like to think and hope, if we tried, we'd indeed find out in many regards we are more similar than we are different, and all more connected than apart ..... if anything, i think thats something that the loss of spirituality in the "modern" world hasnt helped, bc it was one of those things which bound us to universality and connection

and yea, part of it definetely is social media and also current academia and the general cultural mindsets floating around, theres a whole lot of boiling down of super complex shit into short tidbits or black and white things, bc its easier to digest and faster (also, that overboard american centrism that goes beyond being concerned w ur own stuff, while the rest of the world has to know abt the us). i think too, were all bound to have reactionary and defensive attitudes to things especially when dealing w years of shit from ppl, and when we hold a lot of pain and anger, and it leads too to ppl taking things in bad faith which is something ive dealt w too and had to learn to hold myself back on, bc ive definetely got a tendency for it for sure... and its frankly a whole lot easier to point fingers endlessly or to play the opression olympics than look at the god awful messy complexity of it all and how were all caught up w it,, and frankly, i reckon that it feels better to an extent too... it feels/safer/ and simpler i think, than to say, oh god, has truly this whole species been capable of so much hororr? is there nowhere that was or is good, and pure, and untained, and truly a lot better?.. and its i reckon nicer too, to think of things in terms of purely victim and victimizer, than to think abt how plenty of us, most ppl throughout histoy actually if looking at it systemically, have been as u said, a messy contradiction of both....and uhh what's that bible quote, why are u pointing out the spec in your neighbors eye, but not the log in your own? take the log out of your own, and then you may help your neighbor w the spec. and yet, we just dont like doing that much as humans cuz its harder and uncomfortable, its something we have to force ourselves to do and train ourselves for. and unfortunately its not something that is taught very much either

,,,, and yea on top of that too youre definetely right, ethnicity and race and even culture especially in regards to opression and historical and current day dynamics (especially on an international scale) are so incredibly messy, changing, and mostly a whole bunch of stuff weve made up and keep making up and changing all the time and choosing to define ourselves by or to oppose or imposing on other ppl, that it is hard shit to keep track of and detangle. ur example is a good one and in some ways the same sure can be said for the balkans, the question of if were white or not and to who and where and why and when could go on forever, and our history sure has been when taken as a whole, as both opressed and opressor. america too in particular focuses a lot on race (where u could say other parts of the world might focus more on ethnicity, tribe, religion, or class, even nationalism etc, and as far as ill say, i think we need to focus more on class here), and its had a particular kind of rigid understanding of it, and i know from talking to ppl born here in academia and outside and online and whatnot, that a lot of ppl are surprised to find out how ethnicity and race and racism xenophobia and all that shit are different in even south america for a closer exmaple, but in the whole world in general 🤷‍♀️ which aint an issue at all cuz again theres shit we all dont know, but ive also seen plenty of ppl b past surprised or confused, trying to impose us understandings of shit elsewhere... and also, yea, we get focused on things here to the point where its forgotten in a lot of things what it means that were also living in the imperial core at the same time, especially in america

,, , , , i guess w my complaining abt this sort of stuff broadly speaking, it mostly bothers me tbh when i see it come from ppl who do position themselves as like,,,, social thinkers, social activists, or ppl who look into all this and care and speak about it, as self proclaimed educators for others especially, or as some form of academic. not neccessarly like random ppl who occasionally talk on things or vent frustrations or whatnot (cuz also, we all talk abt things casually we havent spend idk how much time on thinking abt or knowing extensively abt)....,,, bc when u say ur that or hold urself up to that, or say u know youre talking or doing whatever to teach ppl or try to help society be better then... welp,,,,, theres a certain responsability (?) and need to try to hold urself up to that ... and i guess yea, its also my personal thing bc after idk a lifetime of always being fascinated w messy complexities and years of cultural anthropology, my brains very focused and fascinated by complexity and contradiction and endless webs of connections 🤷‍♀️ and it does bother me when ppl want to throw around their degrees or education (which dont even matter all that much, plenty of ppl with degrees who dont think too well, and plenty of ppl without them who could run circles around me when im having a good day) or even their own self taught info, and they want to say theyre ppl who generally care abt opression or theyre caring ppl or theyre better than others or whatnot, as a way to say ppl should listen to them and they know better dont uhhh,,,,, , , take the time to really,, think too much abt what theyre saying and educating on and if its actually helpful

#im sorry i hope this doesnt come across as some preachy shit or something im just. i ended up in a whole train of thought

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foulserpent · 3 years

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ok. the likes:reblogs ratio on here is never going to improve, and focusing on the likes:reblogs ratio will not help you as an artist (long post under cut)

also to be EXPLICITLY clear this is talking about broad issues applicable to every artist on the site. dont use this to shut down or ignore artists of color discussing how theyre treated compared to white artists. dont use this to shut down marginalized artists in general talking about how art addressing their identity or real world issues is ignored or tokenized. these are entirely separate issues. if youre reading this and thinking “yeah, these people should stop complaining!” fuck off and block me.

but yeah:

this is a microblogging platform that is designed around individual users curating the content of a blog and of their dashboard. what you reblog is put directly onto the dashboards of the people who follow you. the reblog function is designed as the main tool of curation, with the additional ability to be a sort of "reply" function, (though the way this is applied can be garish hence why its far more common to talk in tags)

‘likes’ on this site serve little to no algorithmic function noticeable to the average user (i dont know how they affect the search function, which is a fucking mess anyway and is barely used). the ‘like’ functionally is near-EXCLUSIVELY a method of communication, saying “i like this” “ive read this” “i agree with this”. this usage is so ubiquitous that most people will never actually look Through their likes, and may use drafts to save posts instead

with this in mind, the reason likes will always outstrip reblogs is that ‘liking’ is a very simple form of communication, while ‘reblogging’ functions as much as a tool as it does for communication. if someone likes a drawing but doesnt really want to reblog it, theyll "like" it to say "i like this". this is not someones confused attempt to provide you exposure, this is a form of communication.

additionally, reblogs on art will usually dwindle as they get farther from the source. most of your reblogs will be from followers who like Your work personally, understand Your takes on characters, etc, and unless a post "blows up" due to mass appeal reblogs will dwindle as the post spreads.

point being, the ratio will always be bad. there is no amount of demanding people change their behavior that will actually change how the site functions.

the goal of the “always reblog art you like” sentiment is usually for artists to get economic support, so im going to address it from this angle: if you arent getting reblogs on art without having to guilt trip people into it, you are not going to be getting many (if any) commissions at this time. thats just the reality. that doesnt make you a failure, or mean youll never get to that point, but it does mean you are not currently in a position where that’s going to happen.

reblogs also dont equal money, new followers, commissioners. like OF COURSE on a technical level, if every drawing you posted got lots of reblogs, youd likely net a follower or two, and that would add to potential customers. but thats just in theory. someone reblogging because they see "reblogs>likes" is substantially less likely to check you out and follow you than someone reblogging out of genuine interest. like most people on here dont have tons of money to throw around, so most commissions come from people who have followed you for a while and have a personal attachment to your art. the commissions i get that Arent from longtime followers are nigh-exclusively either niche aspects of my skillset, or p*rn lol.

if you are intending to make money off art (let alone an entire CAREER out of art) you absolutely need to find peace with this. if your self worth and ability to do art is wholly reliant on online engagement, you are going to get burned out before you ever get there. this isnt saying "pull yourself up by the bootstraps and WORK!!!!" its saying "if you dont find peace with this somehow you are going to not be able to make art". it sucks but this is not going to change anytime soon.

and like, part of this problem is just that its not peoples moral responsibility to be constantly providing ‘exposure’ to all art. like, the angle is that in this horrible capitalist system, we need to support each other. and yet youre also asking for this "support" to be purely transactional, for everyone who sees your art to be a customer or a networking opportunity. i think thats fair to ask when it comes to say, commission posts (which are literally About getting customers and networking), but not just every individual piece of art itself.

if you struggle with this and with self esteem from online engagement, id suggest reframing it- first of all understand that peoples "likes" (while being no substitute for real communication) are a compliment. liking and not reblogging isnt an insult, its saying "i like this (and dont necessarily want it on my blog)". would you really rather that people engage with you as an act of charity or pity than in earnest? will getting hollow reblogs from people only doing it because youll get mad otherwise actually help your self esteem?

and i know some people reading this rn might not want to hear all this from someone who they may perceive as a "popular artist". so please understand that i didnt come on here fully formed getting notes on my art (and also like, 'popular artist' on here usually means 'can pay a bill with art money sometimes'. im still living paycheck to paycheck). ive been posting art on the internet since ~2010 and ive only been able to get Any attention on my original stuff in the past few years. i got absolutely zero commissions the first few times i tried. even once my art started getting traction, it was only fandom content. if i based my self esteem on online engagement, i would have quit art before i left highschool.

so yeah, bottom line. there is no amount of asking people to change their behavior that will actually lead to a site not built for being an exposure vehicle to become one. ive been seeing variants of these posts pretty much my entire decade or so on this site. we need to collectively put that energy somewhere else

i really cant claim to know the solution, but i think one thing that weve lost that would help A LOT would be the return of like, curated blogs focusing on a specific topic. there used to be all these “fuck-yeah-[topic]” blogs that would just aggregate content about a topic, or a certain kind of art. like i used to follow ones that focused on ‘monster people’ art. theyd just scour tags and reblog any art related to the subject, and they were widely followed and engaged with, so they provided a lot of visibility to obscure artists. this form of curation is also fairly natural to how this site functions, hence why it Actually Worked to some degree

some of those blogs still exist, but they arent anywhere NEAR as central to the ecoystem as they used to be. i think individual communities on here producing these and working to get them noticed would be a HUGE help to a lot of artists

another behavior i think that Can be changed is just commenting more. like if you have a compliment in mind about someones art, say it! even if you dont reblog. i dont compliment everything i enjoy (bc i dont always have a specific compliment in mind and dont want to just bullshit one) but if i do have anything ill say it. what most people really want is communication and personal investment. of course, please dont turn this into that deviantart "dont fave without commenting" bs, this should be like. human interaction and not just another transaction.

the other aspect is how the tag system is fairly irrelevant and the search function is broken. in the past, browsing tags was a pretty standard thing for a lot of users. now, a lot of newer users dont even know the tag function still Exists outside of search. the tagging system was never super organized, but it used to be more of a thing that some tags functioned as loose communities. i think this could be improved through active intent to do so by the userbase, but theres little incentive to do so bc the tag and search system is broken.

and i dont know like Anything about web design, so im just gonna state what i would Like to see in theory, but some of this might be impractical. the search function needs to be fixed. every post tagged with a keyword should appear in searches for that keyword, none of the “only some of them seemingly at random” bullshit. there needs to be a clear and understandable algorithm to how searches are organized, with fully functional "sort by new" options, maybe “popular today/this month/all time” options based on both likes and reblogs. the search function needs to become a way that people can look for content in an organized capacity.

i also think that they Could introduce some degree of categorization for original posts. this would have to be very broad since this isnt just an art site, but you should at least be able to categorize your post as “art” and then be able to filter your searches to search for “art” results. this would re-incentivize use of the hypothetical improved search/tag system, and could be a great organizational tool if it was actually implemented properly.

ofc all that is something that tumblr staff would have to do and its not like theyre reading this or like they tend to Ever address user complaints, but i dont think wider demand for this sort of thing would hurt either. at this point im kind of just hoping for the near biblical level miracle of "potential art site designers see these sorts of complaints and create a new art platform that addresses these issues and it gets a huge userbase and we all have a great time" or "deviantart second coming". but i hope this is at least constructive and gives you something to think about . my final message, goodbye....

#oh also i hope the breaking down of the exact functions of the like/reblog features doesnt come off like #wildly patronizing #my intent was bc its jsut one of those things most people (including myself) never actually think about. but i read it over and was like #wait is this incredibly condescending

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corvuscrowned · 2 years

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how r so good at writing everytime i read something of urs i look at ur username and like go Ah This Looks Familiar and i discover that ive already read some of ur other stuff. whats ur secret. would love to know about ur Inspirations and such if u dont mind

hi!!!!! thank u so much for saying all of this and for all of your comments, they are all so sweet and make me really happy. i've been sitting on this ask because i really don't know how to answer it!!

i certainly don't have a "secret" to writing, tho if i did it might be the age old advice of writing a fuckton and reading a fuckton more, bc i think those are the two most valuable things to my writing... i've been writing for a very long time but only got into fic writing recently, and i find that it's really useful just to have a loooot of practice writing because it helps me learn my strengths and flaws and to iron out the kinks in my writing and to take my writing less seriously and allow myself to be experimental and have fun, which sounds a little woo-woo, but i truly think if you want to improve as a writer (which i know i do and it sounds like you do), finding the type of writing you enjoy doing and doing a LOT of it is extremely valuable. for me it was very important to learn the ways that perfectionism has been holding me back and trying to work on that, because just like any skill, it's vital to practice in writing to improve, and my perfectionism was stopping me before i even started a lot of the time. working on letting go of that was really useful bc even tho i still struggle with it a LOT, it goes a really long way to just commit to writing and enjoying something and seeing what happens and not being super attached to how the final product comes out.

as far as inspirations go, i definitely don't read as much as i'd like to, but when i do, i read a lot of literary short stories, which i think are really useful for learning how to maintain tension and focus on prose in shorter works. but i try to read pretty broadly across genres bc i think it gives me a more well rounded sense of how vastly different writing can be? it's hard to point to any specific writers i'd consider influential tho recently i'd probably name mariana enriquez, marilynne robinson, aimee bender, and gabriel garcia marquez as far as writers who really shaped the way i read and write... as far as fic writers go i think @letteredlettered, @shiftylinguini, and @firethesound really shaped my views of harry and draco and the tones i like to take up in fic. i also just watch a lot of horror movies and that has influenced my writing a lot too? i think film in general influences my writing more than i once realized

i have found myself often either intentionally or unintentionally emulating the prose styles of my favorite writers, and i think that has been useful for me - it's helped me sort of find my own voice, pick up things i like, put down things i don't like, and i think all writers' styles are sort of an amalgamation of their influences so i dont think it hurts to try things out and see what sticks. i've been writing fic for almost a year now and i think there's a pretty broad range of styles within my fics, which is all a result of me testing out new things and seeing which styles fit certain tones/topics!

but also!! i think doing what youre doing and talking to writers about their interests/methods/influences has helped me a LOT! that's something ive found super valuable within fandom - talking to people about their writing and learning about their techniques has been suuuper useful in figuring out what works and doesnt work for me!

dude idk if i really answered your questions at all?? let me know if you want me to ramble more about any of this (as if it's not already super long) and ur also welcome to hit me up on discord crow#5501 if you ever wanna chat! thank u again for being so sweet!!

#oh man i talked a lot!#u get me started talking abt writing and i will not! shut! up!#ask

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amuelia · 3 years

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How do you think Roose will meet his demise? Or will he survive? What's your best Roose end game predictions?

Thank you for the question! This will be a long post under the readmore, going into my thoughts on the show ending and exploring what the books may have set up in regards to themes and characterization, as well as a bit of general analysis of Roose' story arc in a Dance with Dragons (and some speculation about Ramsay as well).

If you click on the readmore i will have divided the post into sections with bolded Headers, if you want to only read my specific endgame ideas you can skip ahead to the "His Endgame?" section.

In The Show

The show had him get killed by Ramsay in s6, which informs a lot of the fandom speculation about this storyline.

I am not a fan of the show's scenario as it was both similar to tywin and tyrion as well as a mirror of robb's death; it would also be offscreen in the books since neither of the characters are PoVs and Ramsay would need to do the act in secret. This would ultimately undercut Roose' role and impact, being a death scene that is not very unique and also isn't shown to the reader directly. Since no PoV is even in Winterfell currently, we would just hear of it from afar and not witness the consequences.

The show also has a different dynamic in the Bolton storyline, emphasizing Ramsay as the "main character" of this arc, and elevating him to the main villain for s5-6 to fill Joffrey's shoes as an evil character played by a very charismatic actor. Ramsay's show writing is informed by the needs of a TV setting that wants shocking moments and capitalizes on "fan favourite" actors; his rising importance in the show thus is not necessarily an indicator of his book importance. The show was also missing many central characters like the northern lords and the Frey men in Winterfell.

The show had a tendency to kill off characters early when they wanted to cull storylines or had no plans to adapt more of the character's story (like Stannis, Barristan, possibly the Tyrells...); In Mance Rayder we have the most obvious example, where they killed him off for real in a scene that in the book was a misdirection. We also have characters like Jorah where it appears the showrunners had their own choice of how they want his storyline to end, even if Grrm has his own ending in mind.

"For a long time we wanted Ser Jorah to be there at The Wall in the end," writer Dave Hill says. "The three coming out of the tunnel would be Jon and Jorah and Tormund. But [...] Jorah should have the noble death he craves defending the woman he loves." - Dave Hill for Entertainment Weekly

So a death in the show does not need to be an indicator that the books will feature an equivalent scene, even if it gives a hint as to what may happen. By s5 the show has become its own beast, and the butterfly effects from radical changes they made as well as the different characterizations results in the show having to cater to its own needs in many cases when it gets to resolving a plotline.

"We reconceived the role to make it worthy of the actor's talents." - Benioff and Weiss for the s5 DVD commentary, on Indira Varma's casting as Ellaria

In The Books

(Since this post was getting out of hand in length a lot of these arguments are a little shortened/not as in-depth as i'd like! Feel free to inquire more via ask if something is unclear or you disagree)

In the books i find it hard to make a concrete guess as to how it will end. Occam's razor would be to assume the show sort of got it right and that it will vaguely end the same, which could very well happen and i will not discount the possibility; Ramsay is cruel, desires the Dreadfort rule, and is a suspected kinslayer and has no qualms to commit immoral violence.

"Ramsay killed [his brother]. A sickness of the bowels, Maester Uthor says, but I say poison." - Reek III, aDwD

Reek saw the way Ramsay's mouth twisted, the spittle glistening between his lips. He feared he might leap the table with his dagger in his hand [to attack his father]. - Reek III, aDwD

Arguments against this or for a different endgame come down to interpretations of the themes in the story arc and opinions on dramatic structure/grrm's writing, and are thus very subjective.

The way the story currently is going, Ramsay killing Roose treats Roose almost as a plot device; his death brings no change or development to Ramsay's character as we already know his motivations and cruelty align with such an act, and we can assume that he would feel no remorse about it either. The results of such a scene would be firmly on a story level, as it brings political changes and moves the plot along into a specific direction. Roose himself cannot have any relevant character development about it as he does not have a PoV and we would not be able to witness his reaction from the outside.

“The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself.” - William Faulkner, often quoted by Grrm

Further, killing his father is very difficult to pull off in secret (Roose is frequently described as very cautious, and employs many guardsmen). And even if Ramsay pulls it off (people often interpret Ramsay as Roose' blind spot, assuming he might be caught by surprise, not expecting Ramsay would bite the hand that feeds him), Roose is the one that holds his entire alliance together; The Freys would be alienated by Ramsay who would antagonize Walda and her son as his rivals, The Ryswell bloc appears to dislike Ramsay (especially Barbrey), and the other northmen are implied to not even like Roose himself. Killing Roose would quickly combust the entire northern faction, and hinder Ramsay's further plans (another reason why I am not convinced of a book version of the "Battle of Bastards"). Though this might of course, if we look at it from the other side, be grrm's plan to quickly dissolve this plot and move the northern story forwards.

"Ramsay will kill [Walda's children], of course. [...] [She] will grieve to see them die, though." - Reek III, aDwD

"How many of our grudging friends do you imagine we'd retain if the truth were known? Only Lady Barbrey, whom you would turn into a pair of boots … inferior boots." - Reek III, aDwD

"Fear is what keeps a man alive in this world of treachery and deceit. Even here in Barrowton the crows are circling, waiting to feast upon our flesh. The Cerwyns and the Tallharts are not to be relied on, my fat friend Lord Wyman plots betrayal, and Whoresbane … the Umbers may seem simple, but they are not without a certain low cunning. Ramsay should fear them all, as I do." - Reek III, aDwD

Roose' death at Ramsay's hand also removes him thematically from the Red Wedding, as we can assume such a death might have happened regardless of his participation in the event (seeing as Ramsay is getting provoked by Roose constantly in normal dialogue, and has a general violent disposition). Roose already took Ramsay in before aGoT started, and married Walda very early in the war, which is already most of the buildup that the show's scenario had. It also has little to do with the The North Remembers plot except set dressing, since the northmen are presumably neither collaborating with/egging on Ramsay nor would they appreciate the development.

Themes: Ned Stark and the rule over the North

Roose is treated as a foil to Eddard; They are often contrasted in morals and ruling styles, while also having many superficial similarities that further connect them (they are seen as cold by people, grey eyed, patriarchs of rivalling northern houses, etc...).

Pale as morning mist, his eyes concealed more than they told. Jaime misliked those eyes. They reminded him of the day at King's Landing when Ned Stark had found him seated on the Iron Throne. - Jaime IV, aSoS

They both have a "bastard son" that they handle very differently; Roose treating Ramsay in the way that is seen as common in their society. Ramsay and Jon as a comparison are meant to show that Catelyn had a reason to see a bastard as a threat (since Domeric was antagonized by his bastard brother), but also shows that her suggested plan for Jon would not have stopped any danger either (as Ramsay being raised away from the castle didn't help).

And if his seed quickened, she expected he would see to the child's needs. He did more than that. The Starks were not like other men. Ned brought his bastard home with him, and called him "son" for all the north to see. - Catelyn II, aGoT

"Each year I sent the woman some piglets and chickens and a bag of stars, on the understanding that she was never to tell the boy who had fathered him. A peaceful land, a quiet people, that has always been my rule." - Reek III, aDwD

It appears to me that Roose' story functions in some ways as an inversion to Ned. He makes an attempt to grab a power he was not destined to (becoming warden of the north), where Ned did not want the responsiblity thrust upon him ("It was all meant for Brandon. [...] I never asked for this cup to pass to me." - Cat II, aGoT). Where Ned rules successfully and his northmen honor his legacy ("What do you think passes through their heads when they hear the new bride weeping? Valiant Ned's precious little girl." - The Turncloak, aDwD), the Boltons are largely hated and there are several plots conspiring against them ("Let me bathe in Bolton blood before I die." - The King's Prize, aDwD).

It seems possible to me that in terms of their family and legacy, Roose might also live through an inverted version of Ned's story; where Ned died first, leaving his family behind, Roose already lived to see the death of his wives and trueborn heir, and might thus also live to see Ramsay's death. Ned leaves behind well raised children and a North who still respects his name, and even though he dies it will presumably all be "in good hands" in the end (in broad strokes, obviously this is all much more morally complex). Roose however built up a bad and toxic legacy, and also built his way of life around evading consequences; it makes sense to me that he would be forced by the story to finally endure all the consequences of his actions and witness the fall of his house firsthand. After all we already have Tywin who fulfils the purpose of dying before his children while his legacy falls to ruins, and a Feast for Crows explores this aspect thoroughly.

Roose' arc in A Dance With Dragons

The story repeatedly builds up the situation unravelling around Roose, and him slowly losing a grip on it and becoming more stressed and anxious.

Reek wondered if Roose Bolton ever cried. If so, do the tears feel cold upon his cheeks? - Reek II, aDwD

Roose Bolton said nothing at all. But Theon Greyjoy saw a look in his pale eyes that he had never seen before—an uneasiness, even a hint of fear. [...] That night the new stable collapsed beneath the weight of the snow that had buried it. - a Ghost in Winterfell, aDwD

Lady Walda gave a shriek and clutched at her lord husband's arm. "Stop," Roose Bolton shouted. "Stop this madness." His own men rushed forward as the Manderlys vaulted over the benches to get at the Freys. - Theon I, aDwD

It also directly presents him as a parallel to Theon's rule in aCoK, who similarly experienced a very unpopular rule and his subjects slowly turning against him. Presumably, the point of this comparison will not just be "Ramsay comes in at the end and unexpectedly whacks them on the head". Both Theon and Roose invited Ramsay into their lives, giving him more power than he deserves, and causing Ramsay to make choices that increasingly alienate others from them (the death of the miller's boys for example has repercussions for both Theon and Roose). Grrm is likely steering this towards a difference in how they will deal with this situation.

It all seemed so familiar, like a mummer show that he had seen before. Only the mummers had changed. Roose Bolton was playing the part that Theon had played the last time round, and the dead men were playing the parts of Aggar, Gynir Rednose, and Gelmarr the Grim. Reek was there too, he remembered, but he was a different Reek, a Reek with bloody hands and lies dripping from his lips, sweet as honey. - a Ghost in Winterfell, aDwD

"Stark's little wolflings are dead," said Ramsay, sloshing some more ale into his cup, "and they'll stay dead. Let them show their ugly faces, and my girls will rip those wolves of theirs to pieces. The sooner they turn up, the sooner I kill them again." - The elder Bolton sighed. "Again? Surely you misspeak. You never slew Lord Eddard's sons, those two sweet boys we loved so well. That was Theon Turncloak's work, remember? How many of our grudging friends do you imagine we'd retain if the truth were known?" - Reek III, aDwD

Roose' arc is deeply connected to the relations he shares to the other northern lords, which has been heavily impacted by the Red Wedding. It stands to reason that they are going to be an important part of his downfall, and we see many hints of them plotting to betray him.

The north remembers, Lord Davos. The north remembers, and the mummer's farce is almost done. My son is home." - Davos IV, aDwD

Themes: Stannis and kinslaying

The books set up Roose and Stannis as foils as well; Both lack charisma and have trouble winnning the people's support, Stannis and Roose both parallel and contrast Ned, Stannis appears as a "lesser Robert" where Roose is a "lesser Ned", Stannis represents the fire where Roose represents the ice, both struggle over dominion in a land that doesnt particularly want either of them, etc... What i find interesting is how they are contrasted over kinslaying:

"Only Renly could vex me so with a piece of fruit. He brought his doom on himself with his treason, but I did love him, Davos. I know that now. I swear, I will go to my grave thinking of my brother's peach." - Davos II, aCoK

"I should've had the mother whipped and thrown her child down a well … but the babe did have my eyes." [...] "Now [Domeric's] bones lie beneath the Dreadfort with the bones of his brothers, who died still in the cradle, and I am left with Ramsay. Tell me, my lord … if the kinslayer is accursed, what is a father to do when one son slays another?" - Reek III, aCoK

Stannis is set up as someone who is very thorough and strict in following his own code and his "duty", even if he does not like what it forces him to do.

Stannis ground his teeth again. "I never asked for this crown. Gold is cold and heavy on the head, but so long as I am the king, I have a duty . . . If I must sacrifice one child to the flames to save a million from the dark . . . Sacrifice . . . is never easy, Davos. Or it is no true sacrifice. Tell him, my lady." - Davos IV, aSoS

The armorer considered that a moment. "Robert was the true steel. Stannis is pure iron, black and hard and strong, yes, but brittle, the way iron gets. He'll break before he bends." - Jon I, aCoK

Roose however is frequently characterized as someone who tries to get as much as he can while avoiding negative consequences, and who does not have a consistent moral code and instead bends rules to his benefit to be the most comfortable to him.

It is often theorized that Stannis will end up burning his daughter Shireen; the Ramsay issue might then serve to contrast the two men. If Grrm intends it to be compared by the reader, I can see it going two ways: Either Roose will be forced to finally act in a drastic way after avoiding his responsibility in regards to Ramsay and he will be forced to get rid of his son, making him break the only moral hurdle he has presented adhering to during the story (though analyzing his character, the kinslaying taboo is probably less a sign of moral fortitude and more him using the guise of morals to explain a selfish motivation). Or he might not act against Ramsay and suffer the consequences, presenting an interesting moral situation where some readers might consider his action "better" or more relatable than Stannis', breaking up the otherwise very black and white moral comparison between the two men. It serves as an interesting conflict of the morality of kinslaying compared to what readers might see as a moral obligation of getting rid of a monster such as Ramsay; contrasting Shireen whose death would not be seen as worth it by most. Ramsay as a bastard (who was almost killed at birth if he hadnt been able to prove his paternity) also makes for an interesting verbal parallel with the bastard Edric Storm, and might be used for a look at the utilitarian principle of killing a child (baby ramsay/edric) to save countless people from suffering that underpinned Edric's story.

"As Faulkner says, all of us have the capacity in us for great good and for great evil, for love but also for hate. I wanted to write those kinds of complex character in a fantasy, and not just have all the good people get together to fight the bad guy." - Grrm

"Robert, I ask you, what did we rise against Aerys Targaryen for, if not to put an end to the murder of children?" - Eddard VIII, aGoT

"If Joffrey should die . . . what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?" - "Everything," said Davos, softly. - Davos V, aSoS

However Grrm decides to present these conflicts or which actions the characters will take in the end, it will result in interesting discussion and analysis for the readers.

His Endgame?

Looking at the trends of the past books, it is probably going to be hard to predict any specific outcome; every book introduces new characters and plot elements that were impossible to predict from the last book even if their thematic importance or setup was aptly foreshadowed.

Roose has a lot of plot importance and characterization that has, in my opinion, not yet been properly resolved in a way that would be unique and poignant to the specific purpose his character appears to fulfil. However I also have a bias in that i did not like the show's writing of that scene which makes me averse to see a version of it in the books, and i really like Roose as a character and want to see him have more scenes in the next book(s). This leads me to discount plot speculation that cuts his character arc short offscreen early. Roose is only a side character; however, i have trust in grrm's writing abilities and that he would give him a proper sendoff that feels satisfying to a fan of the character.

"…even the [characters] who are complete bastards, nasty, twisted, deeply flawed human beings with serious psychological problems… When I get inside their skin and look out through their eyes, I have to feel a certain — if not sympathy, certainly empathy for them. I have to try to perceive the world as they do, and that creates a certain amount of affection." — George Martin

Considering my earlier analyis, there is a case to be made for Roose killing Ramsay; however it appears grrm might have a different endgame in mind for Ramsay, foreshadowed in Chett's prologue:

There'd be no lord's life for the leechman's son, no keep to call his own, no wives nor crowns. Only a wildling's sword in his belly, and then an unmarked grave. The snow's taken it all from me . . . the bloody snow . . . - Chett, aSoS

I tend to think something might happen to Roose/the Bolton bloc later in the book that would cause Ramsay to attempt to flee the scene again like he did back in aCoK fleeing Rodrik's justice; perhaps Ramsay is sent out to battle but then flees it like a coward, or he sees his cause as lost. This time, the fleeing and potentially disguised Ramsay would not make it out to safety though, and get killed without being recognized as Ramsay, dying forgotten. This would serve as dramatic irony since Ramsay so strongly desired to be recognized and respected as a Lord of Bolton, without being too on the nose.

As for Roose, i could see him getting captured and somehow brought to justice (either when someone takes Winterfell or in some sort of battle). I see it unlikely that he will be backstabbed like Robb was, because it seems very "eye for an eye" and ultimately doesn't teach much of a lesson except "he had it coming"; But the various people conspiring against him could lead to his capture by betraying him (giving a payoff to the northern conspiracies and the red wedding). I would find a scene of him standing trial interesting since i believe we didn't have one of these for a true non-pov villain yet, and it would be an interesting confrontation that he cannot escape from (he also loves to talk so it would be a good read to see him make a case for himself).

I assume Roose will be out of the picture when the Other plot finally properly kicks into gear (whether dead or "in prison"). With Stannis as a false Azor Ahai and Roose as a false Other (with his pale, cold features), their struggle in the north seems to be a representation of the false "Game of Thrones" that distracts people from the "real threat" of the Others.

As always this is just my opinion, and it could all go very differently in the books! There could always be something that completely uproots my analysis and goes into a direction i did not expect from the material we had; But i have fate that Grrm as a writer will deliver and give me something i can be satisfied with.

#asks #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #roose bolton #valyrianscrolls #a song of ice and fire #not art #anonymous

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

Night Shift - One Shot

a/n: back at it again with another Halloween themed fic! This was inspired by an ask requesting Harry and Y/N both work/meet in the ER. Slight twist on it, but I hope you like it! Reblogs and feedback are super helpful! (not proofread)

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut at the end

Words: 6.8K

Becoming a doctor took a lot of hard work dedication. Countless sleepless nights, a large debt to pay back, finding a hospital to become a resident in, and countless seminars to go to, to make sure all practices were up to date. At first, Y/N hated working the graveyard shift. She rarely got to see friends or family, she was getting minimal amounts of sleep because, let’s face it, sleeping during the day never worked out the way you wanted it to. However, she stopped minding it so much when one of the nicest nurses took his turn on the overnight shifts.

Nurse Styles was usually the voice of reason. He could calm any patient down, and the kids in pediatrics loved him. He always had a lollypop ready to go. All of the nurses took turns with the different shifts so it was fair for everyone. He had heard of Dr. Y/L/N, but had never met her. She was newer to the hospital, a white coat, but still baby-faced. Harry really enjoyed being a nurse, he didn’t want to be the person in there doing surgery, but he liked being able to get things started, and ease someone into the more difficult things. He had a way of administering bad news, and easing the pain from it. His broad shoulders were perfect for crying on, and if it was a kid he needed to prep for getting their appendix out, he held their hand the entire way to the operating room.

Y/N was just getting in, putting her things in her breakroom cubby when Harry walked in. He smiles at her, and she smiles back as he also puts his things away.

“Chilly out there tonight.” He says as he puts his scrubs on over his long sleeve under armor. She only looked for a second, his arm muscles were certainly defined. “I don’t think we’ve properly met yet, I’m Harry.” He extends her hand and she takes it.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, lucky for you I’ll be your nurse for the next couple of months.”

“You seem a little too chipper about working overnight.” She chuckles as she gets her white coat on and stethoscope around her neck.

“I don’t mind it.” He shrugs. “A lot of the other nurses have spouses and kids they rarely get to see, so it’s only fair I take my turn on the overnight stuff. I usually take it this time of year anyways.”

“Why’s that?”

“The Halloween crazies start trickling towards the end of September. Think the staff likes having me as extra muscle or whatever.”

Her face pales as she looks at him. She had completely forgotten about Halloween. Last year she worked during the day, but she had heard about all of the nonsense from the entire weekend. Drunk people needing their stomach pumped, car wrecks, people on drugs, etc.

“So, what’s your specialty? You’re not a surgeon are you?” He breaks her from her trance.

“No, I’m not a surgeon, just a regular old doctor. I almost ended up in maternity like a lot of female doctors, but it wasn’t for me.” They both walk into the main area so they can get briefed for the night.

Harry says hello to the other nurses at the desk, and he takes his seat to login into the computer. There was another doctor on the overnight shifts, Dr. Gilles, and Y/N really couldn’t stand him. He was one of those doctors who was sort of rude to the nurses because he had been at the hospital for a while, but he was handsome so a lot of them didn’t even care. He would flirt with Y/N when he’d get the chance, but she didn’t really like it. She’d seen Scrubs, she didn’t need the drama that comes with hooking up with a coworker. Not to mention the guy was, like, forty, and she was only pushing thirty. To some that may not be a big age difference, but it weirded her out nonetheless. It weirded her out more when he’d catch her flirting with some of the younger nurses.

“Evening everyone.” Dr. Gilles. “He says as he walks up to the desk. “Quiet so far?”

“Pretty much.” Nurse Halleran says. “Hope it stays that way. You’ve got a couple of people you just need to check in on.” She hands him a few charts and he nods as he takes them. “How are you, Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Good.” She says as she looks over her cuticles. She feels his eyes burn into her, and she fiddles with some of the pens on the desk. “Nurse Styles, back on the graveyard, huh?”

“Yup.” Harry says with a fake smile. He also did not like Dr. Gilles. He felt protective over the other nurses, and none of them felt uncomfortable by Dr. Gilles, but he was a married man who openly flirted with people, and that kind of behavior just didn’t fly with Harry. “Dr. Y/L/N, one of your patients needs their vitals checked. Young thing, coming down from a bladder and kidney infection.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Harry hands her the chart and she looks it over as they walk to where the patient was sleeping.

Bethany Martin, ten years old, bladder and kidney infection. Another doctor wanted to size her up for an appendix removal, but it was Y/N that discovered that it wasn’t the child’s appendix. The girl had told her the pain had moves from the front of her stomach, to her side, and then to her back. She got major brownie points from the administration for making that catch.

Her and Harry slowly go into the room. Her father was sleeping in one of the fold out chairs provided. He wakes up when he hears the door open.

“Hello, Mr. Martin.” Y/N whispers with a smile. “We’re just going to check on Beth’s vitals, see how her fever’s doing, alright?”

“Sure thing, thank you.” He stands up and goes over to his daughter to help her wake up a little.

“Hmm.” The girl slowly opens her eyes, and then she smiles when she sees Y/N. See, Beth was scared that she was going to get cut open, so she was beyond grateful that she didn’t have to have surgery. “Hello.” She says sleepily.

“Hi, sweetheart, I need to check a few things, would that be alright?” Y/N asks.

“Yes.”

“Hi, Beth, how’s your IV feeling in that hand?” Harry asks her.

“It’s itchy, Nurse Harry.”

He smiles at her. A lot of the kids would call him that instead of Nurse Styles, he thought it was sweet.

“Think we should switch it to your other hand then.”

“Why’s it in her hand and not in her arm?” Y/N questions.

“We had a tough time…this one likes to pull away.” Harry explains and winks at Beth which makes her giggle.

Y/N let’s Harry switch out the IV. She lets Beth hold her hand as she winces from the needle. Once he’s done, Y/N checks everything else. She has Beth roll onto her stomach so she can feel around her back.

“I haven’t been as achy.” Beth says as she gets settled on her back once more. “It still hurts a little though.”

“Mm, I bet. Took us a bit to figure things out with you, but you seem to be doing a lot better. Should only need to be here for another few days. We’ll come back to check on you later this morning.”

“Thank you.” She snuggles back into her blankets and slowly falls back asleep.

Mr. Martin thanks Y/N and Harry before they leave, and she they both go to wash their hands at one of the sink stations.

“Nurse Harry, huh? Do all the little girls call you that?” Y/N smirks.

“Why, jealous?” He bumps his hip to hers before grabbing a paper towel to dry his hands. She rolls her eyes at him, and he chuckles. “The kids just tend to call me that, I don’t mind it.”

“It must ease them a bit more to be on a first name basis, I should remember that. I hate seeing kids in pain, I’m glad she’s doing better.”

“I know it sucks, but I actually like working with the kids more. They at least listen to us. Some of these adult patients…they fight us on every little thing sometimes.” They make their way back to the desk.

“Dr. Y/L/N?” Nurse Stevens says to her. “I’m going on a coffee run, would you like anything?”

“You’re an angel, yes”, she reaches into her pocket for some loose singles, “just a regular with a little cream, no sugar, thank you.”

“Harry?” She says to him.

“Brought my thermos, but thanks Ellie.” He smiles at her and she nods before going on her way.

“She’s the best, I’ve worked with her during the day before.” Y/N says to Harry.

“Yeah, Ellie and I came on together.”

“Oh, really?”

Harry hums his response as he types some notes into the computer. Harry and Ellie had a bit of a past, nothing serious, but they had hooked up on occasion. Being a nurse meant working a lot of long days, and that left little room for a social life or companionship. They may or may not have taken advantage of the beds in the room adjacent to the breakroom a few times, but that was a year or so ago. She had started seeing someone, so they ended things amicably.

“Why just the cream and no sugar?” He asks to change the subject.

“Well, for a while I was doing the keto thing, which is absolute rubbish and I never should have done it, but I got into the habit of not adding sugar to things. I don’t like the taste of black coffee, it’s too bitter, so the cream helps. I don’t miss the sugar, in fact, I can’t stand really sugary drinks in general.”

“Why’d you do the keto in the first place?”

“Oh, I was looking to lose some weight before a wedding I had to go to. I was a bridesmaid so I just wanted to look nice in the pictures, you know? It works when you stick to it, but as soon as I stopped I gained most of it back. Deprivation diets are never a good idea, and I knew it, but did it anyways because it was a quick way to do things.” He goes to say something, but decides against it. Her head tilts as she can tell he’s withholding something. “Go ahead, tell me as a doctor it was stupid of me to jump on a fad diet.” She sighs and leans on the tall desk.

“No, I was just going to say…” He blushes slightly. “Well, I just feel bad that you thought you needed to lose any weight because you…well…you must know how beautiful you are as is.”

She stands up straight. She literally just met this man tonight, what was going on? Just as she was about to say something, Ellie comes back with the coffee.

“Here you go.” She smiles.

“Oh, thank you.” Y/N takes the coffee. “I’m gonna go take a walk to the other nurse’s station, see how they’re doing. Page me if you need anything.”

Harry watches her walk away and he groans with his head in his hands.

“Don’t tell me.” Ellie smirks. “You have a crush on Dr. Y/L/N…shocking.” Ellie giggles and rolls her eyes.

“I just met her, I don’t have a crush on her. But I may have just said something inappropriate.”

“You?!” Ellie was shocked. “Harry, you’re, like, the nicest person I know. What did you say?”

“I just told her she was beautiful.”

“It’s not like it’s a lie, she’s rather pretty. Seems to take care of herself. It’s not an easy thing to do, especially on these shifts.”

“I know! It just felt weird after I said it. I don’t wanna be like Dr. Gilles, you know?”

“Please.” She scoffs. “You’re nothing like him.”

Y/N does her nightly rounds, checking on her various patients. A few people come in that need to be checked right away, but other than that things were quiet. Around six in the morning she and Harry go to check on little Beth again.

“Definitely only need you here another couple of nights. Keep getting those fluids in, and this fever will go away in no time.” Y/N says.

The girl nods at her tiredly before falling back asleep. Y/N helps out with some last minute patients before going to the breakroom to change. Harry was in there taking his shirt off. She tries not to stare as he pulls a sweatshirt on over himself. She wouldn’t have minded a few more moments to examine his tattoos. She knew he had a few just from his left hand alone, but shit, he had them all over his chest and stomach!

“Well, see you tonight. Hope you can get some sleep.” Harry says to her.

“Same to you.” She smiles and goes into her locker.

“I hope, uh, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier in the night…” He rubs the back of his neck.

“You didn’t, it’s fine…I’m just one of those people that has a tough time taking a compliment. Um, it happened to me in school a lot too, like, if someone told me I was smart or something, you know?”

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure.”

“I appreciate that, Harry, thank you.”

He nods and heads out. On his way home he realizes he’s far too awake to be able to fall asleep, so when he gets into his flat he takes a sleeping pill, and nestles down with a cup of tea while he watches a little TV. Once his eyes feel tired he heads to bed, getting cozy under his blankets, and eventually passing out.

Y/N does something similar. She definitely takes a sleeping pill before jumping into a warm shower. She pulls her blackout curtains, and gets into bed. Her eyelids feel heavier and heavier as she listens to a podcast, and she slowly falls asleep.

Things went on like that for the next couple of weeks. Harry would often assist Y/N on her rounds. He liked that she wasn’t one of those snooty doctors that discounted the nurses, she really seemed to value their opinions, even consulting with them when she needed to. They became fast friends too, often eating together or taking coffee breaks at the same time. She learned that Harry was a couple of years younger than her, and he had been at this hospital for around five years. He explained he liked working at a hospital rather than a smaller practice so he could help more people, and she said she felt the same way.

“Maybe when I’m, like fifty, I’ll settle and open up my own practice. But only because I might not have the same spring in my step.” She chuckles as they both sit and enjoy some coffee.

“You can really sprint when you need to! You were incredible when that guy came in with that allergic reaction the other night.”

“I was internally freaking out the whole time to be honest with you. I was glad to have you there to help me intubate him.”

“Feel like I can do that with my eyes closed now.” He laughs and finishes his warm drink. “I hate to be one of those people, but you’re looking a little tired tonight.”

“Oh, that’s because I never left this morning. I worked all day, took a nap, and then got right back on it.”

“Y/N, that’s not okay. You can’t do your job properly if you’re tired.”

“I know, but we were short staffed, and I was only going to stay a couple of hours, but I got wrapped up with a couple of people. I’m fine, honest, I’ll have a good sleep when I get home later.”

“Shit like that used to happen to me all the time. I’d work sixteen hour days, and then they’d yell at me because I was getting so much overtime, and I’d tell them to hire more bloody people then. It was infuriating. Then you think the place is gonna fall apart without you when you finally do get some time off.”

“Literally! I think that’s why I got stuck here for so long. I have the next couple of days off, though, so I’m looking forward to that.”

“Yeah? Any big plans?”

“No.” She scoffs. “Not unless you consider binging a fuck ton of television while eating a gallon of ice cream big plans.”

“Depends on the show, what’s on the docket to be binged?”

“I’ve been meaning to sit down and watch Ratched. I’ve heard some mixed reviews, but I’m just so intrigued.”

“Mm, nothing better than a show about a crazy nurse.” He rolls his eyes.

“Aw, feeling a little misrepresented?” She smirks.

“Maybe a wee bit. Let me know if it’s worth the watch, though, yeah?”

“Definitely.” She finishes up her coffee and sighs. “Back to it I suppose.”

“Go lay down if you want, we’re not busy.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m catching a second wind.” She stands up and shakes her body out. “See, awake and ready to-“, her beeper goes off, “Shit, some teenagers were just brought in.”

They both hurry out of the breakroom, and go to where they’re needed. Three teenage boys were laying in hospital beds, clearly in pain.

“Alright, what seems to be the problem here?” Y/N says as Harry works on taking their vitals.

“We…fell off the water tower.” One of them says.

She sighs and starts checking for bumps and bruises. She doesn’t ask why they were there, she was sure their parents would rip them a new one for that. A few sprained ankles, and one broken wrist, but nothing too serious otherwise. Y/N gives her instructions to Harry, and tells the boys they’ll need to switch off between aspirin and ibuprofen to help with pain and inflammation. Harry gets the broken wrist into a splint and sling, and gets the others settled as well.

“Isn’t this a little backwards?” One of them says to him after Y/N’s left. “Isn’t she supposed to be the nurse?”

“Well, considering that she went to school for a lot longer than I did, and probably has a lot more knowledge about the body than I do, I’d say she’s supposed to be the doctor.” Harry says.

“Isn’t it weird being a male nurse though?”

“M’not a male nurse.” He makes some notes on the laptop he was using. “I’m just a nurse.” He closes the laptop and looks at the three of them. “Your parents should be here soon, hope you lot feel better, and be safer out there.”

It wasn’t the first time Harry got a comment like that, and it wouldn’t be the last. He didn’t go to school as premed and then go off to a fancy medical school. He majored in Allied Health in uni, and passed all his tests. That was it, and that was all he wanted to do. There was nothing wrong with that. He was proud of himself. He hoped Y/N was proud of herself too.

Flu shot season was in full swing, and there were usually a couple of days a year the hospital did walk-in appointments so people could come in easily to get them. Harry had picked up a shift to administer them. Y/N had come in to be on call so one of the other doctors could have the day off. She smiles when she sees Harry in the cafeteria at lunch.

“Hey, you.” She says as she sits down. “Weird seeing you in the daylight.”

“Could say the same to you. What’s all this about? Don’t tell me you’re working another triple…” He raises an eyebrow at her.

“No, I swapped shifts with Dr. Jollas so she could have the day with her kids. What are you doing here today?”

“I’m on for the flu shots. It’s an easy enough shift to pick up.”

“Get a lot of people in for that?”

“Sure, tons.”

“That makes me happy to hear.” She sighs.

“How were your couple of days off? Did you watch your show?”

“I only watched about two episodes…there was a lot more gore than I was expecting.”

“Y/N…you’re a doctor…”

“Yes, and I can handle small amounts of blood, especially when I’m in the moment helping someone, but there was literally a scene where they were showing how lobotomies were done and a scene where this kid cut off his own arms, so it was a bit much for me. Not something I should be watching alone, anyways.”

“That’s gross.” Harry grimaces. “Don’t blame you for not getting through it.”

“So I ended up just re-watching The Office for the millionth time. It was perfect.” She chuckles. “Are you working all of Halloween weekend?”

“I am.” He nods. “I hope you’ll add some flare to your outfit. The kids like it when we do.”

“Some flare, huh?”

“I have these scrubs that have pumpkins, ghosts, and black cats on them.”

“Hm, I’ll have to think about what I can add. I have some earrings with witches on them, that could be fun.”

“As long as you get into the spirt somehow. We all decorate the nurse’s station and everything. Ellie usually brings in cupcakes too.”

“Speaking of her…” Y/N leans in a bit. “Did you catch the rock on her finger? I’m happy for her and all, but she said she’s only been with her fiancé for eight months. It’s a bit fast.”

“Well, they were casual before they made things official. She was, uh, seeing a couple of people, and then he asked her to get serious and she did.” He shrugs.

“Oh, I see.” She nods and sits back. “I’m not judging or anything, I mean, I guess when you, you know.” She takes a bite of her food, and then leans back in. “Can I ask you something?” She whispers.

“Always.” He leans in as well. Harry be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy a spot of gossip, and Y/N had become his new favorite person to gossip with. It didn’t take them long to become the two bitches that are always talking shit about everyone else.

“Do people use the bunk room to bone?”

His face flushes, and then he clears his throat.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Because you know everything about this place! I wish it was a singles only room because I swear I saw Nurse Halleran and Dr. Gilles coming out of there, and only one of the beds looked used.”

Harry makes a disgusted face and rolls his eyes.

“I feel bad for whoever he’s married to.” He shakes his head. “Scumbag.”

“Nurse Halleran’s married too! I could never do that. I mean, I’ve been in relationships before, and maybe I’ve thought someone else is attractive, I can appreciate a pretty face, but I would never cheat on my significant other. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“Same here. That’s, like, the ultimate betrayal. How do you even come back from that? I get that our jobs can make for lonely lives, but make the time count at home when you can.”

“Does he have kids?”

“No, I think that’s why he doesn’t feel bad about it. She has two kids, though, I don’t know, I only talk to her about work things if I can help it. I miss some of my girls from the day shifts, like, Shauna is super nice and has this really warm smile.”

“Feel like she’s the hospital granny.” Y/N smiles. “I like her a lot too, the few interactions I’ve had with her.”

“How long do you think they’ll keep you on the night shift for?”

“I have no idea, think I’m just paying my dues as the new doctor. I’m getting more used to it, it’s not too bad. If it goes through summer I can drag my bum to the beach and sleep there.” She laughs and so does he.

“Might have to join you for that, I love getting a good tan.”

“It’s a date.” She says, more so as a joke, but from the way he looks at her he may have taken it a different way, so she clears her throat and laughs it off. “Anyways, I better get back to it. Nothing worse than being in the middle of eating and the beeper going off.” She stands up. “Have a good one, Harry.”

“You too.” He watches her walk away, and he sighs.

On Halloween, Y/N goes in a few hours early because she was told they let the kids go around the halls to the different nurse’s stations to trick or treat, and she really didn’t want to miss out on it. She puts on her witches earrings, and some spooky pins for her coat, and out she goes. She stops off at the store to buy some extra candy, and puts it in a pumpkin shaped bucket. She smiles when she sees Harry behind the desk already in his Halloween scrubs.

“Excellent effort.” He says, and then taps his finger over his mouth in thought. “Could use a little something extra, though.”

“Yeah? Like what?” She sets the candy down on the desk and he walks around it.

“Follow me.” Y/N follows Harry into the breakroom, and he pulls a bag out of his locker. He has her go into the unisex bathroom wither, and she sits up on the counter for him. “I’m working a double today, I did some face painting earlier for some of the younger kids. Sort of a way to give them a costume for when they walk around.”

“Harry, why don’t you just solely work in pediatrics?”

“Because I did some face painting for the elderly too, now hush. I need to concentrate.”

He takes what looks like a black sharpie out of the bag, but Y/N recognizes it as liquid eye-liner.

“What exactly are you going to do with that? Give me cat eyes?” She chuckles.

“No, you dolt, we’d need hours for that. I’m just gonna draw a little spider web on your cheek, alright?”

“Okay.”

Harry had never been this close to her face before. She got a nice whiff of his cologne, and she liked being able to see the few freckles he had. She notices now he’s painted his nails black and orange, he must really like Halloween. She closes her eyes as he starts drawing on her right cheek. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. A slight gasp leaves her lips when his other hand grips her chin to tilt her head.

“Still just me, don’t worry.” He chuckles. “Don’t get jumpy on me.”

“M’not, sorry.” She sucks her lips into her mouth as his hand moves to the side of her neck. Y/N may or may not be a little touch starved.

“Almost done.” He says just as she was opening her eyes back up.

“Harry, has anyone ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

“Shut up.” He scoffs, and finishes up. “All done, tell me what you think.”

“I mean it!” She says as he backs away enough for her to hop off the counter and turn around in the mirror. “Oh, excellent job. I especially like that you drew a little spider dangling from the web.”

“It’s my signature detail. Now you look perfect.” They look at each other through the mirror. “We should probably get out of here before someone thinks we’re boning.”

She bursts out laughing at that.

“Good one.” She says and shakes her head.

“It wasn’t that funny.” He mutters as he puts the bag back in his locker.

“N-no, it wasn’t.” She clears her throat. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” He nudges her shoulder and they walk back out to the main area.

The trick or treating was a lot of fun, and the kids seemed to have their spirits lifted. Then shit got real when the drunk people started coming in, the people the police had to bring in for psych evaluations, and the people that had too many edibles. It was crazy busy, Y/N had been running around all night. She was given the okay to go lay down for about thirty minutes since she had come in early. She stops short when she sees Harry laying in one of the bunks. He was laying on his side with his arms crossed over his chest. She quietly slips into one of the other bunks, and takes a deep breath.

“You’re awfully loud.” He says.

“Christ! I was quieter than a mouse!” She says, and turns to face him. He opens his eyes and grins at her. “Ah, you were just fucking with me.”

“Obviously.”

“Busy out there tonight. I mean, I expected it, but still.”

“I know.” He yawns and stretches out. “I’ve been in here too long, I need to go back out before I get groggy.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed and slowly gets up. “Have a nice snooze.”

“Thanks.” She chews her bottom lip for a moment. “Do you have any makeup wipes? I’d hate to wake up with a smudged web.”

“Oh, sure, one second.” He leaves momentarily and comes back in with a wipe for her cheek. Instead of handing it to her, he sits on the edge of her bunk, cups one of her cheeks in his hand, and uses the other to carefully wipe off the drawing. Her eyes flutter closed and she sighs. “There.” Her eyes open back up and she smiles softly at him.

“Thank you.”

There was something brewing between them, they could both feel it. He’s about to lean in to kiss her, but he hears the click of the door open, and stands up immediately. It was another doctor who was I desperate need of a snooze. Harry leaves, and Y/N tries to relax enough to fall asleep.

They don’t see each other again until the morning when they’re both getting ready to leave. He chews on his inner cheek, trying to work up a little bit of courage.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sure you’re probably tired, but…I have these, uh, pancake stencils where you can make pancakes look like pumpkins or ghosts…I thought maybe we could celebrate surviving Halloween together, but I’ll understand if you’re ready to just crash or-“

“I’d love to have breakfast with you.” She smiles as she closes her locker. “I’m gonna go home and shower. Text me your address, yeah?”

“Alright.” He smiles and watches her walk out.

Y/N takes a very quick shower so she can freshen up. She wasn’t sure what might go down between them. She felt like she was getting to be a little too old to just be hooking up with someone, but Harry was really great, so she decides to just go with the flow. She heads to his flat after he sent her his address, making sure to buy some orange juice as something to bring over.

He lets her in and she can’t get over how cozy he looks in his sweatpants, graphic tee, and cardigan. She was in a pair of leggings and a sweater.

“It smells so good in here.” She says.

“Thanks, I made some tea too if you want something warm.”

She nods and he pours her a cup. They giggle over the pancakes, and Harry confirms that Halloween is definitely one of his favorite holidays. The two decide it might be fun to watch a Halloween movie, but naturally after a long sift, they fall asleep together on his sofa. She was nestled into his chest with his arms wrapped around her. She would have slept longer, but she woke up to the sound of him snoring. She shuffles a little, but accidentally knees him in the groin, waking up immediately.

“Shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize I was laying on you like this.”

“It’s fine.” He says as he reaches for himself. “I’m good.” He knuckles at one of his eyes, keeping his other arm around her. He looks at the TV screen and sees that something else had come on. “Slept through the movie…”

“Guess we got a little too comfy.” She looks up at him. “Forgot how nice it was to cuddle with someone.” She mumbles tiredly.

“We could…go to my bed if you want, have a proper cuddle.”

“Would you spoon me if we do that?”

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.”

She nods yes, so he manages to pick her up, and carry her to his bedroom. She almost didn’t want to let go him when he sets her down, but all is good once he slides in next to her, pulls the blankets over them, and he wraps himself around her. She sighs as his pelvis aligns with her bum, and his arm wraps around her waist.

“Good?” He asks.

“Mhm.” She wiggles against him to get even more comfortable.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not.”

“Because I’ll get excited, and that’ll make things awkward.”

“Define excited.”

“You know exactly what I mean, Y/N.” He sighs.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“I’ll get hard, and it’s already difficult enough to control that around you, so-“

“You can press it against me if you want, I don’t mind.” She looks over her shoulder at him.

“You’re serious?”

“If I wasn’t I certainly wouldn’t have let you carry me to your bed.” She rolls onto her other side to face him. “I like being your friend and all, but I’ve done this with someone who’s just a friend before. I…I feel like we almost kissed earlier…”

“We did. Can we try again now?”

“Please.”

His hand slides to the back of her neck and he pulls her closer to him. His lips still tasted like the syrup they put on their pancakes, and she likes it more than she really should. Her tongue swipes along his bottom lip, and he opens up for her. Their tongues swirl around each other, and she tugs him on top of her as she turns onto her back. One of his legs goes between hers, and she grunts when she feels his thigh right on her. She wraps her arms around his neck as their tongues still mold together.

She slips her other leg around his waist so he could lay full between her. He groans into her mouth as he grinds himself against her. A soft moan leaves her lips when she feels how hard he is. She could feel herself throbbing for him. He sits up a little, just to get his cardigan off, and her hands slide up his stomach under his shirt. He shudders from her touch, and he just takes his shirt off too. Her eyes widen as she can finally look over his tattoos.

“This is beautiful.” She says as her fingers trace over the butterfly on his torso.

“Thanks.” He smiles and gets back down to lay on her chest to chest as he kisses her.

He kisses from her lips, along her jaw, and to her neck, all while she’s grinding herself against him. One of his hands finds her hair and he yanks her head to the side so he can get better access to her neck. He licks over the spot just below her ear, and he sinks his teeth in. He sucks on her soft skin, and her mouth falls open. She normally wasn’t super into biting, but whatever he was doing felt really good. When he pops off her she puts her hand over the new bruise.

“That’s definitely gonna leave a mark.” She says to him.

“Kind of the whole point.” He smirks. “Maybe Dr. Gilles will leave you alone if he thinks you’re already getting it from someone else.”

“Not very professional though, is it?”

“That nice white coat of yours will cover it. Wear your hair down for a few days, no one will notice. Or maybe they will, oh well. I’ve never much cared what other people think.”

“That’s because you’re not the one walking around with a mark on your neck.” She pouts at him.

“I could be if you wanted to give me one.”

She bites her bottom lip to contemplate just about every little thing that’s going on between them. She had her legs around him, she was in his bed, and he was shirtless sucking marks into her neck.

“Are…are you going to fuck me?” She asks.

“Do you want me to?”

“Kinda.” She giggles. “You’re, um, really sexy, Harry.”

“Well, that’s very nice of you to say, but ‘kinda’ isn’t exactly a yes, Y/N.”

“Could we maybe just…touch each other? Below the belt?”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

He rolls them both over so they’re on their sides facing each other again, and he pulls her leg up over his hip. She reaches for him first, skimming her fingers along the band of his sweatpants before dipping her fingers him. His breath hitches as she palms him over his boxers.

“You’re okay with this?” She asks him.

“Very.” He grunts. “Go for it.”

She nods and slips her hand inside his boxers, wrapping her hand around his warm cock. She bites her bottom lip as she runs her thumb over his tip, which was already leaking precome, and she slides it down his length.

His hand grips her ass before sliding it around to her front, and pulling her leggings back so he can get his hand in. A moan leaves his lips when he feels her wetness through her thong. He pets over at first, teasing her a little, but she squeezes him a little too tight, and that was signal enough to get the show on the road. He tugs her thong to the side, and runs his fingers along her slit before dipping his middle finger inside her. She squeezes around the intrusion, and then she relaxes a bit for him.

Harry slides another finger inside her, and works them in and out as his thumb takes care of her clit. He leans in to kiss her as they work each other over. She sucks on his bottom lip as she pumps his slick cock in her hand. He finds himself bucking into her grasp, but neither seem to care since she was grinding against his fingers. He curls them up inside her, and that’s when she starts breathing heavily.

“Oh, shit.” Her mouth falls open and she starts pumping him faster. “Fuck, oh my god, H-Harry, it feels so good, don’t stop.” She was nearly gagging for it, and it shocked him to see her falling apart like this just from him fingering her.

“Y/N.” He moans and presses his forehead to hers. “I’m gonna come.”

“M-me too, shit.”

She feels her hand become warm and sticky as she comes around his fingers. She tightens around him to make it last as long as possible, and then she catches breath. She doesn’t want to make a mess of his sweat pants, so she takes her hand out slowly, keeping as much of his come in her palm as she can. They make eye contact, and she licks her palm clean. He does the same by sucking his fingers into his mouth.

“You’re, like, a little kinky.” She chuckles and so does he.

“You literally just did the same as me!”

“I was trying not to make a mess of your sheets!”

“I can wash ‘em.” He laughs more, and then tucks some hair behind her ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking you like me a little more than I thought.”

“A lot more, actually. You like me too?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “I like you, Harry.”

“Thank god, I didn’t want this to be awkward at work.”

“Just don’t try to get busy with me in the bunk room. I will not contribute to that.”

“Listen, when you’re tired and desperate, it’s not such a bad place to get frisky.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She rolls her eyes. “Could I use your bathroom quick? And then if you don’t mind, I would actually love to sleep a bit more.”

“Of course! And yeah, that sounds good.”

She uses his bathroom, and he cleans himself up. He offers some pajama pants a tee shirt, and she happily accepts. She changes and crawls back into bed with him. He spoons her, and rubs at her side, giving her a kiss once in a while on the back of her neck. As she falls asleep in his arms she thinks she had never been so thankful to work on a holiday in her life.

#harry styles #night shift #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #nurse!harry #doctor!y/n

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barnesandco · 3 years

Text

Little Hands (IV)

Series Masterlist

Communication is key.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo 2021. Word count: 2248. Square filled: “Sung to Sleep”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: More Hydra Evilness, More Sad Child, Parental Anxieties. Brief mentions of war, sickness, death, grief.

A/N: I know 2.2k words isn’t objectively a lot but boy did this feel like it. I hope every word is worth it and that you enjoy! Lmk what you think!!! Also I won’t even lie, the idea of Steve’s kids is 100% from one of my favorite comfort fics, family means no one gets left behind or forgotten, by the genius, the wonderful cosmicocean. IT’S SO SOFT. Pls read it.

You’re stunned when Bucky tells you what’s going on. The idea that his daughter (?) was made in a lab like some kind of experiment, and that the man who led said experiment now wants her back like she is his property, his weapon, is too horrid to consider for very long. Weaponizing an innocent child. Hydra.

Bucky gave you the broad strokes of the investigation – currently running on little more than educated guesses based on the meagre intel they have – and has let you know that he has had to recuse himself from the case, due to his… personal connection. That leaves him somewhere he finds awkward, to say the least.

It's evident in the way the corners of his lips turn down, how he is constantly rubbing the pads of his fingers against the coarse scratch of denim, while he watches Ana watch Zoya, Steve’s 17-year-old daughter, working on a tablet. Zoya tucks a strand of hair behind her hijab, then continues to draw up a storyboard, narrating the events to the younger girl. Steve had apparently forgotten the lunch his kids had made him at home, so Zoya had brought it in, and decided to stay the day.

Ana’s quiet, attentive for the most part, listening with her full capabilities, but her eyes flit away from the screen every now and then to look at you and Bucky, as if to reassure herself that you’re still there.

Besides that, there aren’t all that many distractions present for an already precocious child. Most of the team has dispersed for the investigation, with the exception of Peter, who is sat at a table in the corner making intentionally fruitless efforts at teaching Morgan chess, while she giggles and tries to stack the pieces like Jenga blocks instead.

However, Bucky’s restlessness is infectious, and you think he needs to get it under check before it grows any further. That’s why you stand, saying, “Could we go for a little walk, Bucky?”

He nods, man of few words that he is, and leads the way. You’re sure he knows that you formulated it like a request for his benefit, but he doesn’t mention it. It’s just as well – that he knows you like that, and knows when to accept the proverbial hand being offered.

Bucky takes you to a corner of the roof that you’d mistake for a community garden if you didn’t know any better. The Avengers seem to have green thumbs, or at least, a significant portion of them do. They’re good with plants, and possessive about them, too. Autumn ferns grow outside the circle they seem to have been planted in – with a sign shouting Wanda! – to invade the territory of a vegetable garden labelled Bruce (accompanied by a Hulkish, green thumbs up presumably not drawn by the man himself).

Meticulously maintained daylilies and columbines, in vivid reds and vibrant purples, litter the edges of the path that has been carved through this little paradise, and the birdhouses between them stake the claim of the owner more effectively than a neon sign screaming Sam Wilson. Bucky’s told you about his abilities, how they veer into the decidedly supernatural but Sam insists are only the residue of a childhood with homing pigeons.

Nothing here looks like Bucky’s, though. He seems to be taking it in, perhaps thinking about his own little paradise back in the city, and how he’s chosen to keep it distant from that of his teammates. That worries you. He worries you.

And this, the situation with Anastasia, becoming a father, it’s terrifying. Hell, if it scares you this much, how is he feeling? You ask him as much.

“Bucky, are you okay?”

He laughs, softly, disbelievingly, no malice in his scoff, only fear. Only the sound of a voice saturated with consternation and total, complete anxiety. “Would you be?” He asks back.

“That’s why I’m asking.”

Bucky evades the questions, turning first one way on the path, and then the other, approaching the edge clear of shrubbery and blooms alike, resting his palms on the top of the wall.

“I can’t be a father.”

The solemnity in his tone allows no room for negotiations, but then, neither do the facts. “You are,” you reply, somewhat hesitantly, because the technicalities of how Ana came to be are still a little blurry to you. She’s far from a normal child, and not quite a clone, either. She is of Bucky, though. His, in any way that counts.

“That little girl was created in a Hydra lab as a super soldier to serve the cause,” he says, shaking his head vigorously as the cause repulses him even more than it does you. “And who knows what else she was put through before SHIELD fell and Orlov got her out, and it’s my fault.”

“You didn’t—”

“I didn’t ask for it to happen but it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t happened. They used me to make a super soldier from scratch, and now I’m supposed to raise her? It’s not that simple. I’m not Steve. I can’t…”

Being honest, you feel you’re pretty far out of your depth here. But you’ve promised him your help, and you’ll do your best.

“You don’t have to. There are other options.” You’re sure you’re overstepping. Perhaps this gentle companionship has not yet reached the point where you can give advice on parenting. But if you don’t, who will? Steve, whose answers don’t enter the gray territory Bucky’s mind is residing in right now, who parents like he was born for it?

Steve chose fatherhood. Bucky has been nailed to it like it’s a new cross to bear, heavier than all the previous ones put together.

His gaze roams the grounds that stretch as far as you can see. You’re both far away from home right now, far outside your comfort zones.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess, sweetheart. It’s not right. You have things to do, and I shouldn’t have—”

“Bucky, I’ve been staring at the same four sentences of dialogue for the past month. I literally could not have been happier to get out of the house. Even if I do wish it was under better circumstances,” you say fervently. You’re here because he needs you. Because Ana needs you. It’s nice to be needed.

“That’s one way to put it,” he smiles, and you’re glad to see it.

“Not to mention, it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault except whoever your team is looking for,” you insist. “And Ana’s a sweet girl. A little quiet, but Baba says I was, too.”

This, Bucky thinks about. You wonder if he was a quiet child, too. “What’s he like?”

“Hmm?” The reverie snaps like a rubber band.

“Your father?” Bucky asks, shyly, his eyes meeting yours, letting you know exactly why he’s asking.

You look up at the clouds, think back to Boston, to time shared between the library and the park. A childhood with books, lunch breaks under a desk in an office at MIT, stealing his glasses and running away with them, rubbing at his stubbly beard like he was a housecat. Inside jokes with your father and rolled eyes with your mother. Laughter and tears, laughter with tears.

After a long while, trying and failing to summarize your father, you say, “A jokester. The most sarcastic person I know. But still kind of neurotic, to be honest. The kind of parent that makes you show up at the airport a full four hours before your flight.” It’s grossly insufficient. For a writer, you’re not very good with words. You suppose it’s not the words that are the problem; it’s the lifetime they have to encompass. “What about yours?”

Bucky sighs. “Soldier. He’s one thing I don’t feel bad for not remembering because it wasn’t Hydra that wiped those memories. He just died when I was really small. Survived the Great War only to be killed by TB a few years later at home.”

“I’m sorry.” You avert your eyes. Grief feels private, even decades later, even in the smallest doses.

He shakes his head, smiles fondly, up at the sky, too, like you did. Only, he’s smiling at it, like he’s thinking of someone beyond the clouds. “Don’t be. Was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t allowed to hurt anymore.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

“I sound like my therapist.”

At this, the two of you look at each other and burst into laughter. It feels forbidden, as though the severity of the situation condemns joy. That isn’t fair, you think. The situation is that of a child, and nobody needs laughter more than kids do. Food for the soul.

When the echo of your exhilarations falls, Bucky grows serious once more. “They have them for kids, now, too, right?” He asks, referring to therapists. “Do you think Anastasia should see one? She’s not exactly… normal, you know?”

“Maybe.” It’s a difficult question, but a good indicator of how Bucky is growing to feel about Ana. “You’d make a good dad, if you wanted to be one, Bucky,” you say, and mean it. It’s plain as day that he cares about her.

“I can’t even remember my own.”

“Parental instincts are intuitive, not genetic,” you tell him.

“You been reading handbooks?” He teases.

“You’d be surprised by how much you learn from the rabbit holes you fall down while researching books,” you deadpan.

“Can any of that research get the nightmares out of my head? I think it might scare a kid.”

The self-deprecation hurts, but your response is honest, heartfelt. “She likes you already.”

“She won’t if she thinks I’ve run away,” he answers, straightening up. He might be trying to evade the conversation, but you’ll let him, for now. He’s gotten some fresh air, had some time to clear his thoughts, or sort them, at least. And so you return, to the little girl who has a tighter grip on both of you than you even realize.

------

Ana grows unsettled as night darkens the sky. It could be the ruckus she isn’t quite used to. It could be the toy fire truck Tony has been altering with his utensils to increase its noise output, much to Morgan’s amusement. It could be the actual parrot perched on Sam’s shoulder.

Whatever the cause, she hasn’t succumbed to it enough to make a seat out of the fridge again. She’s sitting in her seat, between Bucky and yourself, eating the hummus Bruce and Wanda have made. Nat discusses sniper scopes with Clint, Peter tries to get away with eating the side of vegetables on Jordan’s plate without Steve noticing, and Bucky eats silently, eyes almost constantly on Anastasia, who takes it all in while her knee bounces up and down with an ever-increasing speed, much like her father’s.

You excuse yourselves soon after dessert, after Morgan has fallen asleep against Jordan’s arm on the couch, and Steve and Tony’s friendly debate is starting to develop the edge it tends to when they’ve been bantering for too long.

Bucky sets up on the sectional in his room, and leaves the ridiculously large double bed to you and Anastasia. It’s been a strange, strange day, and one can only hope that tomorrow brings some ease, a balm for the prickly, fiery ache that has settled over the man you care so much about.

------

When you wake, it’s because of singing. For half a moment, you think you’re in a dream, but as your eyes adjust to the blanket of dark, you see the shadow on the sofa nearby. Only, it’s bigger than just Bucky. Anastasia is sitting on his lap, her head cushioned against his chest. Scrambling for your glasses, and turning on the lamp on the bedside table, you notice that there are trails of drying tears on her little cheeks, and she’s still shaking with the aftershocks of whatever scare she must’ve had during the night.

Not for the first time, you curse your deep sleep that meant you didn’t wake with Ana, but watch in wonder as Bucky sings.

Hush, little baby, don't say a word Papa's going to buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird won't sing Papa's going to buy you a diamond ring

Ana’s eyes begin to close, but she fights the sleep. Bucky doesn’t let her. He lies down, easing her down beside himself, singing all the while.

And if that diamond ring turns brass Papa's going to buy you a looking glass

And if that looking glass gets broke Papa's going to buy you a billy goat

His voice fills the room, low though it may be, and he curls himself around Ana.

And if that billy goat won't pull Papa's going to buy you a cart and bull

And if that cart and bull turn over Papa's going to buy you a dog named Rover

She succumbs to the lull of his tone, his song, his promises, sighs a little sigh, lets the last, little hiccup leave her body.

And if that dog named Rover won't bark Papa's going to buy you a horse and cart

And if that horse and cart fall down You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town

Bucky lifts his hand from where it was stroking the hair at her temple, and lays his arm over his daughter. They’re safe, for now. Together.

#SSB2021 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #dad!bucky barnes #mcu #marvel #marvel fanfic

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whythinktoomuch · 5 years

Text

v. a deadly giveaway

(pt. i) (pt. ii) (pt. iii) (pt. iv)

“No, it’s huge deal,” Kara insists. “Alex hardly ever lets anyone choose their own weapons. Plus, she likes to judge people based on their preference in firearms. Like, for example, Mike with his big ol’ shotgun, which... well, don’t make me say it.”

“It’s just that either way, I’d have to give it back, no?”

Kara’s brow crinkles. “No...? Of course not. Why would we make you give it back?”

“Well, when I leave, I mean.”

“Oh... right,” Kara says. She hadn’t really considered a possibility in which Lena wouldn’t stay with them indefinitely, but nods as if she had.

Lena looks over at the marked silence, one corner of her lips quirking up in a wry smile. She leans into Kara, resting her head on her broad shoulder. “So, what does your gun say about you?”

Kara glances down at her trusty semiautomatic pistol and shrugs. “That I’m a quick shot?”

"Oh?” Lena laughs, and the delighted sound has Kara’s spirits lifting, just a little. “It’s also a Glock.”

“Sure.”

“Which means you have big hands,” Lena continues. She takes one of the hands in question and traces over the callused lifelines with her fingertips. When Lena plants a kiss at the very center of her palm, Kara’s spirits practically skyrocket.

So, Lena intends to leave one day, and Kara keeps forgetting about it until she’s forced to remember. Whether it be a stray comment or a pointed silence in response to questions about the near future, the reminder never fails to soil Kara’s mood for the rest of the day.

Naturally, Lena notices. Kara makes no secret of her feelings, after all, though she’s somehow managed to keep certain choice words to herself thus far. But Lena makes a real effort to make it up to her every time:

holding Kara’s hand,

tracing lazy shapes around each knuckle with her fingers,

telling her a silly joke, despite not remembering the punchline,

pressing lingering kisses to her shoulder, the warmth somehow bleeding through two layers of cotton,

falling asleep with her head in Kara’s lap, etc.

But honestly, in the end, it all just makes it that much worse for Kara.

“You can’t force her to stay,” Alex says with a sigh.

Kara scowls because she knows that, but still. “Well,” she says, “you made Kelly stay here with you, didn’t you?”

“Did not. I just made her like me enough to stay.”

Kara mumbles something into her pillow that Alex has to force her to repeat more clearly, “Lena likes me too.”

“That she does,” Alex says, rolling her eyes. “You know, she stares at the back of your head whenever she’s behind you. Not at your ass like a normal person, but your head. Like, she’s just waiting for you to turn around and see her.”

Kara buries both her fists into her belly, trying to stave off the ache that comes with Alex’s words, and just groans and groans.

“So, why haven’t you tried to kiss me again yet?” Kara asks, the next time she and Lena are killing time in the library together. There’s no one else around and Kara’s frankly got nothing much to lose these days. “Was it really that bad?”

Lena doesn’t answer, but her forehead goes bright red behind the cover of her latest novel. She starts turning the pages a bit more quickly, at a pace that surely even she couldn’t be reading at.

“Because if it was... this might be the perfect time to let you know that, well... it had been a while,” Kara says slowly. “And I wasn’t really ready or expecting a beautiful woman to just, you know—”

“Kara!” Lena slaps the book onto the table before her, her entire face blushing furiously. “What are you doing?”

Kara blinks. “Explaining?”

“Explaining what?”

“Why I think our next kiss would be so much better.”

“You... think about that a lot?”

“About kissing you?” Kara says incredulously. “Yeah, like, all the time!”

Lena nearly upends the table in her mad scramble to get across, the momentum resulting in Kara’s chair tipping backwards and crashing to the floor, with the two of them toppling along with it.

“Ow...” Kara wheezes, her back already sore from landing heavily against the back of the chair. “And wow, um... Cool.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Lena says breathlessly, grinding her hips against Kara’s like she’s ready to beg for forgiveness. “Are you okay?”

Kara shakes her head in amazement. “I’m fine. And you’re perfect.” Then she pulls Lena down for a hungry kiss, and in accordance with her predictions from earlier, it is indeed much better than their first.

Kara’s panting, then Lena’s panting, which only makes Kara pant even harder. She lets her hands wander—cupping the back of Lena’s neck, cradling her face, tangling in her long dark hair and tugging insistently, sliding down her arching back in reverence—until finally, they rest at the gentle swell of Lena’s hips.

She pauses with her fingertips skating just past the hem of Lena’s shirt. It’s as far as they got to last time when Lena froze up on her, and now, as somewhat expected, Lena’s freezing up all over again.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Kara says, cutting Lena off before she could try. “Kissing’s the best part anyway. Honest.”

Lena ducks her head, pressing her forehead against Kara’s thumping chest. “I want to, Kara. I really do want to...”

“Okay.” Kara strokes Lena’s hair, and she relaxes into the touch with a soft sigh until she’s boneless atop Kara’s blessedly solid frame. “Well, I’m okay either way.”

“I just...” Lena’s muffling her words into Kara’s shirt now, and it’s harder to hear, but infinitely more distracting. “I just don’t want you to see...”

Kara blinks a few times up at the ceiling in question, but it holds no answers for her. “See... your boobs?” she asks Lena instead.

“What? No!” Lena says sharply, as if Kara’s the one who’s being cryptic right now. “Of course not!”

“I’m not sure what we’re talking about then... but would it help if I went first?”

“What do you mean?”

But Kara’s already sitting up, leaning slightly back to give herself more space, then she whips her t-shirt off with a careless flourish. Lena’s hand—braced against Kara’s hip for balance—seizes up and her nails briefly bite into Kara’s skin.

“... You... can’t be serious...” Lena says, her voice strained. “What the fuck?”

Kara frowns, definitely not having expected that sort of reaction. “I ran out of clean bras.”

“No. Just... you look like this?” Lena presses her entire hand flat against Kara’s abs, gasping when they tense up against her touch. “God, you’re such a dick.”

Kara bursts out laughing, wrapping Lena up in the tightest of hugs, just so, so utterly charmed. They don’t even kiss again for the rest of the night. Instead, Kara just points out all the various scars that cover her body—a scattered, yet tangible timeline of everything she’s endured since the world fell apart.

Lena brushes her lips against each one upon introduction, attending to these long since healed wounds like Kara was still hurting.

Later on, when Alex accidentally walks in on them, she very loudly wonders why on earth couldn’t they just be having sex like normal people, goddammit.

Alex reiterates her very pointed question again when she’s getting ready for the next scavenging trip. “Please do it sooner rather than later. Preferably when I’m still out there, safe from catching you guys in the middle of whatever it is that passes for sex for the two of you.”

“Shut up,” Kara mutters. “You can’t order us to do it.”

“Sure I can,” Alex says easily, but she adjusts her tone at the pout her sister directs at her. “Look, I’m just saying. When she’s gone, you might end up regretting it. Who knows how long it’ll be before someone else you take liking to comes along?”

“Never. I’m never going to like anyone ever again.”

“Jesus.” Alex ruffles Kara’s hair affectionately until she flashes her teeth in a begrudging smile.

“Oh, hang on,” Alex says, once she gets to the front gate. “I think I left some spare rounds under my bed. Can you go get it?”

Kara rolls her eyes. “Why can’t you just go get it?”

“Because with my luck, your girlfriend’s probably already there half-naked or something.”

Kara ignores the flip her stomach gives at the very thought that Lena could be her girlfriend, let alone a half-naked one. “Because I’m faster, huh?” she says all cheeky instead, and Alex swats her over the head for it.

When Kara shoulders her way into the room, she doesn’t expect to see Lena, but her presence in and of itself isn’t surprising. No, what’s surprising is the fact that Lena’s not wearing her flannel, and she normally wears that thing all day, every day, even with all that wear and tear, even under the scorching sun, even to sleep.

But right now, the flannel’s off, and Lena’s wearing naught but a snug tank-top and the most terrified expression.

It takes a beat for Kara to notice—so distracted by the sight of all this newfound skin now at her disposal—but Lena’s holding something in her hand.

“Kara,” Lena starts, voice trembling. “I can explain.”

But before Kara could ask for clarification, she sees it. A jagged oval of tiny divots on the outside of Lena’s bicep. It’s an angry red, swollen, and unmistakeable.

Kara feels the floor drop out underneath her, and her stomach plummets right after it.

“That—that’s a bite. You’ve been bitten,” Kara’s shouting, oh god, when did she start shouting? “You were bitten, Lena! When were you bitten? When did you—god, when were you going to tell me, when—”

Lena quickly sticks herself with the item in hand—a syringe filled with some bright blue fluid—depressing the plunger right into the bite. Within seconds, the redness and swelling die down, but the bite—ugly and prominent even on pale skin—remains.

Kara’s throat hurts, from the shouting, from the hopelessness lodged in the very center of it all. She’s inexplicably crying already.

“I was bitten eight months ago,” Lena explains swiftly, quietly, as she throws her wretched flannel back on, disappearing the bite that’s already been branded in the forefront of Kara’s mind. “It’s... manageable. I can keep it at bay. It’s just a monthly injection. I’m fine.”

“It’s not a cure,” Kara says in a croak.

“No.”

“Monthly... injection?” Kara swipes at her eyes with a clenched fist. “How long do you have left?”

Lena hesitates, her lips pursed. “I’m... running out.”

“How. Long?”

“Four months,” Lena says, and Kara feels hitherto unregistered parts of her heart crumple and die. “I have to leave, Kara.”

Kara wants to protest—it’s still her natural inclination despite everything—but before she can even open her mouth to do what she does best, Alex steps into the room behind her.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

#finally got to the part i wanted to write (:#hope y'all enjoy the ride (:#my words.

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twdmusicboxmystery · 3 years

Text

10x22: Here’s Negan - First Thoughts

How did everyone like the episode? I know we’re all disappointed that Beth didn’t show up, but if not for that, we’d be jumping up and down with all the awesome symbolism in this episode. So keep that in mind.

***As always, spoilers abound for 10x22 below. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

Now, I’m sort of crapping out on this tonight. Sorry. This is going to be very short. It’s Easter Sunday and I’ve had family stuff going on all day, so I didn’t get my full writeup done. I’m just going to talk about very broad themes and then, as usual, I’ll do a details post and that will be much longer.

As I think all of us assumed, there are tons of Bethyl parallels. For the most part, Negan = Daryl and Lucille = Beth. It does cross over a few times, as it often does. And as we’ve talked about before, her green wig when she saves Negan from the walker is probably a hint toward her being a Beth proxy.

So I’m sure you all saw lots of important symbols. Negan drinks moonshine in the cabin. Lucille drags an IV pole around with her (Beth at Grady). There are definitely medical themes and dialogue parallels. There’s a massive focus on a blue cooler with medical supplies in it. (Yes, @frangipanilove’s head almost exploded. ;D)

But mostly, this is about Negan losing Lucille (love of his life) just as Beth lost Daryl. That’s why all the symbolism. They play darts, they read Pride and Prejudice (that’s important).

In the scene with the walker, Negan sticks the walker in the eye with his knife (Sirius symbol) and then says, “Are you serious?” Lucille shows up in a GREEN wig and kills the walker. She’s even got her IV. That’s just super on-the-nose symbolism, guys.

In the end, of course, he loses her. He burns down the house. He takes off on his bike. How anyone doesn’t see Still in this is beyond me.

We also see the savior, Laura. I’ll talk more about this later, but I think that’s important. They could have brought back anyone they wanted, but Laura is blond and in earlier seasons (like S7) she had a lot of dialogue parallels with Beth.

But what do I always say? Every callback doubles as a foreshadow. So, what does this foreshadow where Beth is concerned? I’ll get into much deeper details of this later this week, but I think this is foreshadowing a major future interaction between Negan and Beth.

Remember that the reason many of us thought she would show up with him is because there was quite a lot of bat symbolism around her in S4 and S5. Now, clearly she didn’t show up in the AOW story line, but I just kind of figured that as long as Negan is still alive on the show, that symbolism is still potent. And as I’ve watched and learned more about where things are going during these bonus episodes, I’ve started to see it again. There’s going to be a major arc involving Beth and Negan, either in S11 or in the spinoff. But I’ll talk more about that later on.

So yeah, I think I’ll stop there. Again, sorry this is so light on content. I’m too tired to do more, but I will tomorrow, after I’ve gotten some sleep. ;D

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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letteredlettered · 4 years

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hi! ive been following your writing for a few years now and i drop by periodically to check if you have anything new posted, and im really surprised that you seem to be enjoying the untamed? im curious what you think about the show - its story and characters, the acting, the production, etc. idk if you know, but the untamed is the most successful example of a current trend in chinese entertainment, where popular online novels centered around a gay romance is adapted into a 'safe' drama.

continued:

due to the many explicit and implicit restrictions imposed on creative media in china, many crucial plot points have to be changed (often badly) or removed, including the nature of the relationship between the main characters. the untamed is considered the most loyal adaptation so far, but like all other works in the genre, it received criticism for weak acting and queerbaiting. that's why im really curious about what you think of the show as it is, as itself, free from its context.

if you're interested, you could also check out guardian! it features much better performance and chemistry by the leads imo, but the story was heavily botched bc the original incorporates and reinvents a lot of classic chinese folklore beautifully and stuff like that is considered disrespectful and not-pc. i think it's really sad how so many great pieces of writing with complex world-building and plotlines are simplified into... idek what to call them, but just, less than what they are.

im sorry this turned into a rant. as a mainland chinese person with oh so many frustrations about our current society, it's hard to comprehensively describe my feelings about the untamed's popularity. it's the first mainland chinese show/movie to gain this much organic interest abroad so i should be glad? but, but. anyway, yes, im sorry.

There’s no need to apologize for ranting, but I admit to some confusion as to whether you want your question addressed or the rant. Because I’m me and tend to be thorough, I’ll address everything, in reverse order.

First of all, I’m sorry that this show is sad to you. I’m sorry that the popularity of it is difficult. I’m also deeply sympathetic to your frustrations about your society, as I too am deeply frustrated by my own.

Secondly, yes, I’m aware of the context of The Untamed. I’m aware that the book it’s based on is a BL novel, and that, in order to align with Chinese politics, overt queerness was erased from the adaptation. I’m aware of the censure laws of gay media in China. I’m also aware that some aspects of necromancy and morality were adjusted to make the show more palatable for general audiences, but I’m fuzzier on those details. Lastly, I’m aware that the popularity of the show calls attention to certain things, such as fanfic, and that attention results in more censorship,

The fact of this erasure and this censure provokes a lot of questions: by consuming this product, which contains erasure and censure, do we engage in the erasure and censure? By posting gifs and writing fanfic and talking about this product, do we increase its popularity, thereby encouraging additional erasure and censure? By increasing the popularity of this product, do we diminish the popularity of the original gay morally gray canon, thereby decreasing representation? Do we discourage other authors in China from writing explicitly gay morally gray material? In short, are we allowed to enjoy this media?

I don’t know the answer to these questions. However, I do know that boycott is a very effective tool when it can inflict economic pain on the producer, or when it can exert pressure on an entity to change. That said, I feel like a lot of the calls to boycott certain media these days are a lot like telling people to stop driving their cars to stop climate change: it’s suggesting that individuals can solve the problem, which presupposes individuals are the problem, and therefore fails to address the scope of the problem, or present the possibility of a real solution. Not watching The Untamed isn’t going to change laws about portrayals of homosexuality onscreen in China, partly because the laws in China are a much bigger problem.

The other part of it is that The Untamed is coded queer, so if you run a successful boycott against it, you end up with . . . less queer TV. I know a whole lot less about China than I do about the Hays Code, but if you had told gay people during the Golden Age of Hollywood that they couldn’t enjoy movies that were coded queer because they weren’t explicitly queer, they’d have said you were crazy. In fact, many people will tell you that media that was coded queer was a big reason we got more explicit queer stuff later. And as I’m sure you’re aware, the US is still fighting that battle . . . partly because it wants to sell movies to China.

So then there’s a question about whether me, an American in the US, liking something coded queer from China but not explicitly queer--does that encourage Chinese censorship? Should I only support texts that are explicitly queer? But the answer is the same--it’s not addressing the scope of the problem, and by supporting texts that are coded queer, you could be paving the way in the future for something brighter.

But you weren’t talking about boycott! You were talking about your discomfort with the popularity with this show, which I accept. I understand feeling uncomfortable. I can only hope it makes you a bit more comfortable to know that plenty of fans are deeply aware of the context and do wrestle with the question of what liking this show means in the context of a society that would never allow aspects of the original to be portrayed onscreen.

Thirdly, I’m not against trying Guardian at some point, but by comparing the acting and chemistry of the leads to The Untamed, I feel like you prove our tastes are very different in these regards. I love the acting of the leads in The Untamed; I found their chemistry off the charts. It’s okay you don’t feel the same.

Lastly, you asked my opinion of The Untamed: its story and characters, the acting, the production, sans context of the canon upon which its based and censorship laws in China.

a. I love the overall story, but the plot has deep plot holes. Quite a few segments do not actually make sense to me, because the plot is so haywire. However, I’ve never cared that much about plot, except when it gets in the way of characters and themes, and for the most part, this plot serves its characters and themes, except when the parts they leave out are so confusing that I cannot follow the story. As for the story, it feels like it’s built for me, because ultimately it’s about moral decisions and how to make them; it’s about guilt and paying for mistakes; it’s about learning, changing your mind, and remaking yourself. Really, I’m not sure there are many stories I love more--except they killed my favorite character, and I almost quit. So, that certainly put a damper on things.

b. I love the characters most of all, although the villains are really two-dimensional. However, large parts of the plot are not Hero vs Villain, they’re Hero vs Society, and then some Hero vs Himself in a way that suggests the Hero is no longer a hero. I could talk about the characters forever, but suffice it to say I think they’re really strong. Also, the relationships are really exquisite, particularly when it comes to family dynamics. Unfortunately, they killed my favorite character off. Also unfortunately, there are six women in this show, only two of them are main characters, and every single one of them dies. It disgusts me.

c. I think the two leads are exceptional, in particular Xiao Zhan . . . when he’s not being too broad, which he is quite a bit. However, I do wonder how much of this is direction and production style, because in many instances, he’s quite subtle, and the choices he makes are astounding. Then there are times where it’s like they needed more footage, or wanted to drive home a point, and he turns on the extra, and it’s awful. It could just be him, but I actually feel it’s the case with most of the actors, which does make me think it’s a directing issue. Meng Ziyi never really has that problem though, because she is the most perfect of all. But then take He Peng, who I actually thought could be incredible, but every scene was just SO BROAD that I began to feel sorry for the poor dude having to act that part. But there is nothing to be said for Wang Zhuo Cheng, who really is just terrible, which is sad, because it’s a great part.

d. Production-wise, it’s really hit and miss. So much of the locations are truly beautiful. A lot of the costumes are too, unless the shot is too close. I actually don’t mind the wigs; I love the long hair. The CGI is terrible. And then while a lot of the shots are beautiful, some of them are awkward, and the pacing is really difficult, imo. It really seems like they wanted to drag it out, and there are so, so many scenes where I’m sort of embarrassed that we’re in the same scene or that we’re still looking at someone’s face, or that everyone is just standing there waiting for the shot to finally end.

I will say that film is a language that does differ from culture to culture. It could be that both the broadness of the acting and the awkwardness of the editing are my cultural lens based on American and a lot of western film. When I watched older Hollywood films, the acting is a lot more broad and maybe a little less “true” feeling, but I understand that it’s not the case everyone in the past was a bad actor. It was just a different style, so I’m not sure I’m equipped with the cultural knowledge of Chinese acting, cinematography, and editing to be able to really judge the value of these things.

I do know how I feel, which is that the editing is the biggest hurdle for me while watching the show. However, I feel that the beauty of it makes up for a lot, and the strength of the characters and themes really carries it.

I hope I addressed your points adequately, and I wish you well.

#Anonymous #the untamed #china

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divine-bangtan · 5 years

Text

Solidarity • IV (m)

BTS x reader, reincarnation!au, supernatural!au, angels and demons!au, slow burn, smut, angst, violence.

Summary: A few weeks away from your 22nd birthday, there are a number of things one would expect to have on their mind. Partying? Oh yes. Drinking? Most definitely. Being told by seven strange men you are the reincarnation of a powerful goddess and the key to winning a demon war? Uh…come again?

Pairing: OT7 x reader, Goddess reader x demon Prince Taehyung, goddess reader x vampire Prince Namjoon, goddess reader x warlock Yoongi, goddess reader x incubus Seokjin, goddess reader x angel Hoseok, goddess reader x shapeshifter Jimin, goddess reader x werewolf Jungkook.

Warnings: angst, some violence, hallucinations, oral (f. receiving).

Word count: 6.4k

Masterlist

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You could feel multiple pairs of eyes burning into your profile across the table, thinking you were oblivious to the intense scrutiny, when in fact you didn’t have the courage to meet the eyes of any of them. Nobody seemed to be making any conversation either, only the sound of metal cutlery scraping harshly on porcelain occasionally making you flinch in discomfort. Instead, you remained unnaturally interested in the assortment of lavish foods on your plate. Where would they even get these ingredients from? Were those fish eggs? Topped with some strange purple garnish-

“Does your arm hurt?” A voice suddenly whines into your ear. Surprised, you glimpse left to Jungkook beside you, now looking sheepish at how he had roughly pinned you to the ground earlier.

“Oh…” you whispered back, shaking your head softly and rolling your shoulder to appease his worries. “Not really, I’m sure you were just doing your job. Maybe a little too well…”

“Our guard dog got a little overexcited. He should really apologise about that.” Yoongi said from your other side, causing you to jerk your head around.

“You know what it’s been like lately, hyung!” He whined back in a harsh whisper, but Yoongi was too preoccupied with his nose buried in a novel to pay attention. His side profile was quite lovely, you thought to yourself. The little details such as the way his silver earrings gently swayed every time he shifted his head slightly or the way his soft locks of black hair framed his face. When your gaze wandered up to the cat like slant of his eyelids he turned to look at you. Caught out, you startled and opened your mouth to apologise for staring.

Instead you gasped when a pea hit him square in the forehead, and he froze momentarily before he slammed his book down onto the table, causing everyone to jump a little. “Don’t be a brat,” he hissed at Jimin across the table.

“Okay, I will now that you’re paying attention to me again, hyung,” he said, plump lips that were once pouting stretching into a smile. It made your heart palpitate how stunning he looked as he grinned, with his blonde hair and red velvet jacket practically radiating confidence. He probably strutted instead of walked too. God, why were they all so beautiful.

Yoongi scoffed loudly, before promptly returning his attention back to the book he had been trying to read. Jimin whined, draping himself back against his chair as if he were dying. “Don’t even think about throwing anything else at me, I’ll turn you into a cat again. This time you won’t be able to change back unless I say so,” Yoongi warned, a dangerous glint to his eye.

Jimin met his jeer by sitting up straighter, his own emerald eyes glinting an icy blue. If you’d have blinked, you’d have missed the way Jimin’s hair suddenly darkened from blonde to a deep fiery red.

“That’s low, hyung. Because you know Jungkook can’t help himself when he sees a cat! He turns straight away, last time he chased me for a whole hour!”

“Ya! It was not that long! Stop making everything seem more dramatic than it really is, Jimin.” Jungkook countered, slamming his fists on the table and causing everything to jump.

Silently, you locked eyes with Hoseok directly across from you, who was trying to enjoy his meal in peace. He sighed deeply, defeated. Something told you this must be a regular occurrence when they sat down for a meal together. His fork was halfway to his lips when Jimin knocked his arm in his bickering, leaving a trail of gravy down the front of his white tunic where his food dropped.

Taehyung stood, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape and all the commotion in the room ceased. He walked to the open door before pausing to turn and look at you expectantly.

“(Y/N), come with me.”

***

There were so many faces. Every step you progressed deeper into the mansion, seemingly further away from the only people who seemed to occupy it, yet you were always being watched.

It was difficult to see past his broad shoulders, swaying with each step he took, so your attention turned to the walls as they passed. He owned a great number of statues, and a lot of paintings you noticed. Yet, the thing that seemed strange about the number of stone figures was that they greatly outnumbered the amount of real people in this large place. You hadn’t been here very long, but it became apparent rather quickly just how empty these walls seemed.

An eerie feeling of loneliness clung to the air, permeating it in the facade of art. Perhaps he liked being that way. Perhaps he just liked art. Who knew? You certainly didn’t, he was a complete stranger to you and had been none too hasty to reveal anything to you. Yet.

The walls around you slowly changed from being dark, solid wood that left you feeling enclosed, to panels of glass like a greenhouse with plants every few steps. The hallway opened up to reveal a larger space with a fountain in the middle, water softly trickling down in white noise. He didn’t look at you, instead Taehyung perched himself on the edge of the pond, staring into the water in silence.

“Sit,” he ordered, gaze not moving from his fingertips creating small ripples in the water’s surface. You were quick to obey, anxious about what you could sense Taehyung was about to reveal.

“It all began about a year and a half ago, when an angel was cast from his place in heaven. That alone was not an uncommon occurrence, it has happened many times before and was no cause for alarm. Those on the path of righteousness sometimes stray so far they are unable to return, or simply aren’t welcome. They often become beings that spend the rest of their days in the human realms, living a sort of half existence. A select few, however, turn to darkness.” He said, still staring into the depths of the water. The back of your neck prickled due to the direction of the conversation. “This one particular angel, his name was Seungri.”

There it was. The name immediately sent cold shivers down your spine, unconsciously your hands balled into fists. Taehyung regarded you with a careful gaze, trying to figure out what your nervous expression meant. The way your teeth sunk into the soft flesh of your bottom lip caught his gaze, his eyes following as you solemnly nodded. “I know it.”

He sat up much straighter at your confession, visibly intrigued.

“I had this terrifying dream that I was dying. No…not dying. I was murdered. The strangest thing was I felt like I wanted to trust the man who drove the dagger into my heart. I wanted to trust him…Seungri,” you described in a small voice, fearful of what reaction your revelation might elicit from the man next to you. Yet he didn’t move, didn’t appear to breathe as if a picture-perfect replica of one of his many sculptures.

“The occurrence that you speak of, you didn’t dream it I’m afraid. You are describing something that really happened.”

“What – no, you can’t be serious,” you quipped back, yet Taehyung only looked at you solemnly. His silence told you everything you needed to know. “But it was horrific.” Without a word, he stood and held out his hand to you, and without question you took it.

Before giving you a chance to stand on your own he was pulling you to your feet with unnatural strength. Another tug brought you stumbling right into his solid chest, and his arms wrapped around you. It felt nice and warm and oh so comforting for a fleeting moment before the room around you was swallowed by tendrils of black smoke. Your stomach lurched from the feeling of suddenly moving inhumanly fast, and when you blinked your surroundings were entirely changed.

The bright white room was still spinning in your eyes when you came to, you could somewhat make out the dozens of marble statues scattered around.

“H-how…how did you do that?!” You questioned, only able to focus on the face directly in front of you while the rest of the room was hazy.

“I’m a demon, sweetheart. I can do a lot more.” He teased, turning to look around.

You suddenly noticed was that you had been here before. This was the exact place your dream had occurred, and you gasped softly, looking toward the end of the room.

There stood a statue of Eve in the very place that she died.

Startled by the reality of it all, you stepped back only to gently bump into Taehyung. Large, warm and already familiar hands gripped your shoulders to steady you. “I know it’s a lot to take in,” he reassured, the corner of his mouth curving upwards. Did he really just smile at you? (Y/N)?

You gave him a small nod before stepping away, attention shifting back to the statue. The closer you got, the more it was like looking in a mirror. Cautiously, you traced a finger down the bridge of her nose, across her lips, and you swear you felt the faintest touch mirrored on your own. A faint shudder manifested through your body as your fingertips slipped off her chin. Your chin, you couldn’t help but think.

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to every move you made, every little curious touch, the way you frowned slightly when you discovered she even had the same mole on her right ear. You were more cautious, didn’t seem to trust things so easily. Unlike Eve. You weren’t like her at all.

“Who was she?” You finally asked after a long silence, turning back to look at Taehyung.

“She was a goddess, and a powerful one at that. I still remember the evening she came here for the first time, as if she could sense we were in danger. It was pouring rain, a night much like this one, and she was drenched to the bone and freezing.”

“But where did she come from? Surely you would have heard of her before?” You cut in, curiosity getting the better of you.

Taehyung tutted, looking slightly irritated at your interruption. “Inquisitive little human, aren’t you?” Your mouth twisted into a sour pout, not really appreciating the comment since all this time he’d kept you in the dark about what was really happening. His features softened a little. “But I can understand why you would be. She came to us the day after Seungri fell. At first, nothing was out of place. Things were…good and…happy. She made me happy.” The last part was so quiet you barely heard, but when you did your heart twisted.

“It’s been a year since, well…you know well enough what happened,” he continued. “Small run ins between the magical beings that roam the human realm are by no means uncommon, neither was Seungri’s fall from grace unheard of. There was no cause for alarm, and that was the first mistake we made. She came to us for a reason, we should have been paying more attention. Creatures of all kinds started showing up dead, even angels. The strangest part was they had all been drained of their abilities. We’re not sure exactly how many, because their bodies began to disappear as well. See all the statues? These were all people I loved. He killed them, Seungri killed them.”

“What?” you gasped, stepping toward him. “Oh Taehyung…I’m so sorry.”

“What’s done is done. I couldn’t protect them.”

“You can’t blame yourself for this. Your actions were not what caused their deaths.” He wouldn’t look at you, and your hand bunched into a fist from the urge to touch his shoulder or do something to comfort him, but you decided against it. “I can’t help but ask…why did he do it?”

“Simple, he wanted power. He wanted to be the most powerful being in existence, forge his own throne and have everyone bow to him. Somehow he has the ability to siphon others’ abilities, which makes him very dangerous. Our second mistake was underestimating him, we should never have left Eve alone. I thought she could easily protect herself if he went after her. I was wrong, he was much more powerful that I thought. She put up a good fight, however, it didn’t kill him. He was severely wounded, and we haven’t seen any sign of him since. But he’s out there somewhere, recovering and waiting. I have no idea what his next move will be, he’s been silent for so long. I’ve been trying everything in my own power and those I know to hunt him down while he is weak. But if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s being a coward.”

“But that still doesn’t explain why I’m here, and why I look like her,” you pointed out, turning back to stand face to face with the statue.

“I think I know,” his deep voice came from behind you, warm breath tickling the back of your neck and causing the hairs to stand on end. You turned around only to find Taehyung was incredibly close, he backed you into the statue, a tiny squeak leaving you when you hit stone. Your eyes were drawn to the intriguing shape of his lips, your own tingled in memory of the way his devoured them. “The universe needs balance, and when Eve was...gone, it gave us you. I had begun to lose hope that we would have a fighting chance against him when he does inevitably return. But now we have you – you can help us. You bring a new hope to this war.”

“Hope? Hope? Have you ever considered that maybe you’re wrong? I’m not some super powerful goddess or entity or whatever she was. Have you considered that maybe I don’t want to be your fucking mascot? To fight a war that, quite frankly, terrifies me? I’m not just some replacement that you can snatch up because it was so convenient. Surely, I have more purpose than that...” you trailed off, voice that began as defensive fading to a defeated mumble.

“Do you really think that’s true, (Y/N)?” Taehyung asked, a knowing taunt to his question. As if he could see all the hours you spent staring at your ceiling while you weren’t working in hospitality, deciding what course you life was going to take. Not just from now on either, for you had asked yourself that many times in the past. Where are you going? Who are you? What are you doing? When will you change?

At your silence, Taehyung moved forward even further causing you to press harder against the marble statue. Against what was essentially Eve’s tombstone, all the memories of how she was violently murdered came rushing back into your mind. Was that what fate awaited you?

“I don’t want any part in this,” was all you managed to choke out before you shoved past him.

So you ran.

You ran as fast as your feet would carry you. The distance that you and Taehyung had walked passed by in a blur, the entrance hall coming closer and closer. Chairs scraped as the others scrambled to stand when you rushed past the dining room. Faintly, through the ringing in your ears you heard Jungkook almost whining your name.

The iron gate slammed shut behind you, sounding like another crack of thunder through the rain, the droplets battering against your skin. Your vision was obscured by it as you located the scooter and kicked it to life, not once looking over your shoulder as the mansion grew further and further away.

It was easier not to believe. Much, much simpler to just take a warm shower and succumb to sleep once you arrived back to your dark and silent apartment. Tomorrow you would go to work like usual. It was normal, and normal was good, you could understand it. Normal was safe.

***

“...me. Hello? Excuse me!”

The cold of the drink seeping into your hand finally snapped you out of the daydream that had been occupying your thoughts, your fingertips tingling from becoming numb.

“Right! Yes, sorry. Here you go, one large iced mocha to go,” you announced as if you hadn’t been almost drooling on yourself moments ago mid-daydream. The young customer took it from your hands and backed away slowly, almost as if you would try to harm him if he made any sudden movements. You wanted to throw your arms in the air and yell I’m not crazy! However, you knew that would certainly have the opposite effect. A fed-up huff came from your lips as you shook your head, trying to rid yourself of all these lingering thoughts. No, you didn’t want to know if Taehyung was thinking of you...right? No! He was dangerous and would only bring trouble and disruption into your perfectly peaceful life. Anyway, days had passed and you were safe now and fully intended on living a mundane and monster free lifestyle.

“Excuse me, dear,” a frail voice drew your attention back to the counter, where a short elderly woman waited patiently for assistance. You were in front of her in an instant, smiling kindly at the way her hands trembled as they gripped her cane weakly. “I was wondering if you could help me with the board up there. I’m terribly sorry, I’ve left my glasses somewhere and it’s a struggle for me to see very far without them.”

“Oh no, it’s alright. Don’t apologise, I’ll go through the options with you. Here,” you pulled out a much smaller menu from the display and began rattling off each item to her, but the brush of her finger on your hand stopped you abruptly.

“Say, a young lady I once knew had a mole just like the one on your wrist. She was very pretty, just like you,” the old lady commented, a kind smile etched into her wrinkled features.

The remark was very sweet and would normally have left you feeling warm and fuzzy inside, however, you couldn’t help the way you internally recoiled at the way she said just like you. A cold shiver ran down your spine due to the way she looked at you intensely, but you couldn’t blame her due to her old eyes. Regardless, you still rushed to finish up with her and seat her at one of the tables, the rather thick hairs around her top lip and the glassiness were starting to creep you out.

You spent the next two hours being run off your feet as usual, huffing in relief when it was time for you to go home finally. Despite getting the answers you so desired, your ability to sleep seems to have only gotten worse, as did the nightmares. So much for normal, it was easy to pretend while you were at work, as soon as you got home it was so quiet on your own. It was still more than a week until Isabella was due back from her holiday with her family, and you missed her terribly.

A loud thunk sound made you jump, only to relax when you saw a napkin pressed up against the glass from inside the coffee shop. Friday? it read in sharpie, held up by your coworker with a large grin spread across his face. You couldn’t help the way your own mouth copied his, breaking out into an ecstatic smile as well. He had asked you to accompany him to a party on Friday night, and you had agreed a little too eagerly, jumping at the opportunity to do something which you once thought you’d never enjoy. A small nod from you had him grinning wider, despite the minute feeling of guilt that bubbled up within you. No matter how many times you tried to convince yourself you might actually like him if you gave him a chance, you continued to catch yourself thinking about him.

You took your frustration out on a small rock that came across your path, continually kicking it along the footpath in front of you every couple of steps. Each time it travelled a little farther as you got more annoyed with yourself. You would never see the man again, it’s so much easier to just forget about him. Yet you had to admit your heart ached in a way it never had before, like an undeniable connection was under the threat of being broken. Like the two of you were destined to be togeth-

“Argh!” You cried out, giving the stone an especially harsh kick. There you go again, letting your thoughts run rampant. The rock skidded to a stop at the intersection, right at the feet of an elderly person about to step into oncoming traffic. Acting blindly, you lurched forward into a sprint. “Wait! It’s not safe to cross yet!” She froze midstep, unable to move until you grabbed her shoulder before she could step any farther, gasping when you recognised the little old lady from before.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, grasping your arm to steady herself when she stumbled, suddenly released from her daze. She blinked a couple of times, squinting up at you before her eyes narrowed further. “It’s you…” Her voice dropped with the last two words, and you swore she hissed. You were about to ask her if she was hurt while straightening, but her grip on your arm tightened.

“Hey,” you cooed in a soothing tone, she might be in shock or frightened. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

“You’re not.”

“What?”

“He’s coming for you. It’s only a matter of time.”

In the blink of an eye you were pulled toward her with an unnatural amount of strength for her deceitful appearance, and white hot pain erupted from your arm as her sharp teeth sunk deep into the flesh. You tried to scream in pain and fear, but her hand clamped over your mouth, clawed fingernails digging into your cheek hard enough to draw blood. You mustered enough strength to push her off, her teeth momentarily latching on harder causing more of your flesh to tear as you struggled to get away. She screamed out in a manic laugh, but you had already turned and began to flee, wild panic driving you to sprint faster. Before long your lungs were burning and you had tears streaming down your face but you didn’t dare stop. A look over your shoulder only caused you more terror at the sight of some kind of demon in pursuit on all fours, nose following your trail of blood.

You made a sharp right turn, stomach dropping in dread when you saw a few innocent bystanders. You screamed at them to run, waving your uninjured arm maniacally. However, they didn’t budge as you caught up to them, didn’t hear you coming up behind even as you made quite the ruckus. You stopped abruptly in front of them, panic obvious in your expression and the way your chest heaved. Just as you were about to cry out in a panic yet again they walked right past you, completely oblivious.

They couldn’t see or hear you.

You stumbled after them as they passed, deep in conversation with one another but it was useless. They continued to walk down the street, unaware of your presence. They soon disappeared from sight while you continued to stumble along the path, feet dragging and vision blurring around the edges. Something was definitely wrong, you thought as you collapsed on the ground. A glance at your arm confirmed it was healed, no longer dripping with blood but the two puncture marks were still prominent. They looked infected and pulsated with something dark green.

After a few seconds your vision became far too blurry, and you found yourself unable to keep your eyes open any longer. Everything started to go black and you slumped to the ground, succumbing to unconsciousness.

***

When you opened your eyes again, all you could see was darkness still. It must have been the middle of the night, you noticed as you sat up in bed, your bed you noticed. The familiar dark space of your bedroom came into focus as you blinked several times, willing away the bittersweet embrace of sleep. Quickly you pulled your arm out from under the covers, noticing it no longer hurt, and as you looked closer you could see no evidence of the encounter ever happening. Was it another nightmare? It must have been, how did you get back home safely? What happened to the demon that was following you?

As if sensing your thoughts, you noticed an unfamiliar shape in the corner of the room where the shadows were at their darkest. You gasped quietly, panic setting in as an arm reached out, fingers brushing the stem of the lamp. You froze as a soft glow illuminated your room.

In the armchair, one ankle hooked casually over his knee sat Taehyung. His rings shone softly in the light as they drummed against his cheek.

“Quite the troublemaker, aren’t we?”

“I-I um,” you shuffled through your thoughts trying to look for an explanation, seeming as though he likely found you unconscious on the sidewalk, arm mauled and venom pumping through your veins. “Well, it’s not l-l-like I...um,” you swallowed nervously as he stood from his seat, slowly stepping toward the bed. He cocked an eyebrow at your unfinished answer. “I didn’t go looking for it, it just happened.”

“A lot of things seem to have just happened to you recently, haven’t they?” He questioned rhetorically, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. He was much closer now, and you sank back down into the sheets gripping the covers almost to your chin. It was cooler in his presence and you were well aware of how much your nipples poked out against the thin fabric of your shirt. “You’re not safe by yourself. Come back to the mansion, please Y/N. Come back to me.” He whispered, each word he spoke he had inched closer until his breath fanned over your cheek. You didn’t stop him even as his lips brushed your skin, capturing the corner of your mouth. You didn’t stop him as his fingertips dragged up your body over the covers, drawing a line straight through the valley of your breasts and his fingers gripped the top of the doona. He pulled it down slowly, and you gasped softly at the way it dragged over your painfully stiff peaks. Taehyung easily swallowed the sound, laving his tongue over yours in a brief show of dominance.

“What are you-” you began to ask but you were quickly silenced by his index finger being pressed to your lips.

“Hush sweetheart.” He bent down, warm breath tickling your lips before seeking to nibble on the corner of your mouth again. Instead of moving to deepen the kiss, he continued a blazing path down your cheek toward your ear. He sat back on his haunches, fingertips brushing the top of your blanket that was still covering your legs before eyeing you, waiting. You nodded once, giving him silent permission and Taehyung pulled the covers down, a rush of cool air made your skin break out in goose bumps yet you felt hotter than ever. He slotted a knee between your thighs as his mouth returned to your neck, his delightful lips pressed a soft kiss right behind your ear after he leaned down to whisper words of praise to you for allowing him access.

His hot, wet tongue made you squirm when it laved over the crook in your neck, seeking out the spot where you were most sensitive. You whined loudly when he found it, a satisfactory smirk stretching across his lips before he began suckling a bruise there. Your nipples scraped over his chest with every heave of your lungs, god they were extra sensitive right now. He relented with a chuckle, shifting further down to nip your collarbone before honing in on the stiff peak poking through your shirt.

He drew your left nipple into his mouth, and your hips bucked unconsciously as you gasped, his hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, kneading firmly. The cavern of his mouth was so hot and created a wet patch where he suckled your peak through your shirt. A nip of his teeth drew another whine from you, before he relented the abused nipple only to latch on to the other.

“Spread your legs for me sweetheart, that’s it,” he whispered, not really giving you an option with the way his fingers gripped your knees and pried them open, but it was embarrassing how quickly you complied. How quickly you wanted to comply. “Good girl, so eager and ready for me, aren’t you?” Quickly he settled his own hips at the apex of your thighs, and you mewled at the feeling of his bulge brushing against the wet patch on your sleep shorts.

“Please Taehyung,” you whimpered, whole body twitching with need. You jumped again when the cool metal of his rings brushed across your heated skin, trailing down your hips until his fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts. He glanced up and locked eyes with you for a moment, something feral was alight in his gaze that made your pelvic floor clench around nothing. You shivered as he dragged your shorts, panties included, ever so slowly, never breaking eye contact.

Taehyung’s mouth quickly followed, laving over your stomach in slow, torturous kisses. Occasionally he would nip your skin and soothe the bite with a lick. When he finally sat back, his grip on your knees tightened and he pushed them wide apart, gaze falling to your exposed core. You whimpered in embarrassment and tried to snap them closed but it only elicited a growl from him, clearly displeased at your disobedience. When you stilled he smirked, and shifted down to lay on his stomach with his face centimetres from your cunt. Warm air fanned against your glistening folds as he chuckled in amusement at how worked up you had gotten.

“You’re practically gushing, sweetheart. Do you really need me that badly?” He questioned, but before you had an opportunity to answer he dragged his flattened tongue over your honeyed hole, devouring your juices in long slow swipes. The muscle ventured to the side, sucking hickies all around your pussy lips but making no move to return to your most sensitive parts.

The drag of his sinfully warm tongue continued on and was driving you near insane, drawing one long, wide circle just outside of where you needed him most. Every now and then he would tease you with the lightest lave of the muscle over your clenching orepheus, but he never quite delved in. Your pussy clenched pathetically from the lightest dip.

Suddenly driven impatient and worked up to a point where you didn’t care, your hands flew down to find purchase in his silky blonde locks. You attempted to push his head further into your heat to gain some stimulation as you rutted your hips up, not remember that he had an agenda of his own. With a feral growl, he pulled away, one large hand coming to enclose your wrists and tug them from his head.

“Now now sweetheart, you aren’t being very well behaved are you? I might just have to put you over my knee and teach you some manners, hm?” He drawled, the pads of his fingers dipping into your wetness teasingly, before sitting back as he brought them up to admire the strings of your arousal that connected them.

“Please please,” you whined, continuing to squirm. The playful smirk he once adorned fell from his face only to be replaced by something displeased. His free hand moved so suddenly you barely registered the movement until you felt a sharp sting across your pussy. He repeated the action once more, leaving you mewling underneath him from the smack.

“First warning,” he growled, hunkering back down.

Finally his tongue delved into your entrance, licking up the pool of juices you were sure had gathered there by now. The tip of his tongue stopped just short of your throbbing bud, and you squirmed from being so close to the stimulation you craved. His thumb came up just above your pearl, pulling back the hood to expose it. He blew air on it gently and when your hips began to buck he finally trapped it between his lips only to begin suckling without mercy. The action tore a near scream from your lips, if you were squirming before, you were positively thrashing now as his teeth nipped at your sensitive clit. The sudden you onslaught of pleasure had your pelvic muscles contracting so hard you swore you almost gushed all over the sheets.

He eased off a little, opting for more gentle suckles and licks against your bud, but they were strong enough to still have you clenching and whining as your climax drew closer. The push of something slim and solid against your entrance had your eyes going wide for a moment, before he sunk his middle finger into your cunt easily. Immediately your walls clamped down on it, welcoming the intrusion. Taehyung lifted his head off to admire the way your head was thrown back against the pillows, eyes rolling back into your head. You whimpered when he pushed another finger in, two making a delicious stretch that had your spread legs twitching. He chuckled endearingly at your response, and how smoothly you’d taken them into your sopping pussy.

“Good girl,” he hummed. “So eager for me, let me hear you.”

The continuous drag of his fingers against your walls elicited a loud moan from your panting lips, particularly when he easily located the soft spongy bed of nerves nestled within. He crooked his fingers, pleased at the way you grew tighter, that coil in your stomach getting closer to snapping. “That’s it sweetheart, come for me,” he growled, lips seizing your clit once more and he lashed his tongue against it without mercy in tangent with the movement of his wrist.

After being on the brink for some time, this easily tipped you over and you hurtled into your climax. You felt every muscle lock up as you hit the peak of pleasure, a loud sting of cries torn from within as you began to tremble and buck your hips when Taehyung refused to let up. The pleasure became a little overwhelming once your orgasm had finally subsided, and you pushed Taehyung away with a whine. He sat back, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. The fingers that still glistened with your juices, rings and all, were popped into his mouth. He groaned as they dragged over his tongue, and the sound made you twitch, still sensitive.

His sinful lips were moving, but no sound was coming from them. You frowned, still in an elated haze wondering if perhaps it was just your ears ringing. He was talking more, the expression on his face looking alarmed now.

You tried to sit up, reassure him that you felt completely fine but strong hands gripped your shoulders and held you back down. When you looked up your vision was blurred, your eyes were unable to focus on the room around you and you could no longer see Taehyung clearly.

You began to resist against the hands holding you down, shouting out in confusion. Your arm throbbed in pain, it felt white hot and swollen. Someone was shaking you by the shoulders, and you squeezed your eyes shut. This felt wrong, you felt incredibly groggy and your head was pounding.

“(Y/N)! Wake up!” A voice was calling out, sounding far away. It repeated your name a few times, each one getting louder until your eyes snapped open to look at the figure hovering over you, hands gripping your shoulders.

“Yoongi?”

“Would you like to explain why I found you half dead on the sidewalk?”

***

You were back at the mansion.

Shadows danced in the corners of the room as the fire cast a warm glow across the library, giving off comforting crackling sounds every few seconds. Taehyung was noticeably absent, and you opened your mouth to question his whereabouts. An uneasy feeling came over you, however, and you decided against it. He didn’t want to see you right now.

You had woken up in Yoongi’s workroom, your wounded arm wrapped in a bandage. A demon bite, and a nasty one too he informed you. The type that causes people to go insane before they died, hallucinating things they...desire. The fire warmed your already rosy cheeks, flaming in embarrassment at what had occurred in your dream. It felt incredibly real.

“I can’t believe you survived that, honestly. I’ve seen a lot of bites like that before and the end result is never anything pretty. People go downhill pretty quickly.” Yoongi mused, staring straight into the burning flames, light flickering in his eyes.

“Good people too,” Hoseok added as he came back into the room, offering you a steaming mug of tea which you accepted gracefully. “Here.” He also draped a blanket across your shoulders, causing you to melt a little under his doting.

“Thank you, really.”

“Don’t mention it, you’ve been through quite a lot, and I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse. Demon numbers are on the rise. No doubt it’s related to...him.” Hoseok looked away as he talked about Seungri, and you eyed his wings remembering how Seungri had a pair just like them, only black. You had a sinking feeling the two were connected somehow.

“That...thing. The demon, it said something to me. He’s coming for me.” You shuddered at the thought, at your dreams, what Taehyung said to you. Everyone in the room turned to look at you, and Yoongi opened his mouth to speak.

He was interrupted as a crack of thunder boomed through the sky, flashes of lightning illuminating the room. The doors to the library were thrown open with a tremendous bang causing everybody to jump. Two figures appeared in the doorway as more lightning struck.

“Well, well, well…what do we have here?” The first one said, tilting his head at you and giving a far from comforting smile. Yoongi was quick to be by your side.

“Namjoon, Seokjin….this is (Y/N).”

A/N: I’m sorry for the late update!!! I know it’s been a really long time but I’m such a slow writer, plus my mental state hasn’t been very good lately. If I missed you on the tag list I’m sorry, it’s hard to keep track!!

Tag list: @lachiminlajimin @sugasheart @jessilliam-caronday@yikesskaina @wonzigyumin @diorluvs@xxqueenwxtchxx @irissilujm @sweetcrvture @mrcleanheichou @youtube-obsessed-duh @sarahkriswugirl@bangtanlove16 @mariacorbi @baby-hobii@catsandstrawberries @it-is-dana @januarythirteen @just-a-little-teapot13 @jooheonbee @crajishie @lyuxs @t-mel19 @joonsroses @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @psiphidragon @ro2424 @mingukmania

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gmariam19 · 4 years

Text

I hit a follower milestone - yay! Thank you so much! Last time, I wrote a little drabble about Poe’s ring here. (You can read about his scarf here!) In honor of today’s milestone, I’m sharing something a bit longer. Background: As we often do, @mssr-cellophane and I were chatting about SW, about Oscar Isaac and Poe and Finn ETC ETC and they mentioned something about a shaving fic. Having written one for another fandom, I wondered if I could rework it for Finn and Poe. I had to take out immortality, a zombie doctor, and several coffee jokes, but I think it mostly works. It was a fun experiment, anyway! And so I am sharing it below. Enjoy and thanks again!

A Quick Shave

"Finn! You're bleeding." Finn ignores her and continues toward an empty table in the dining area of the Tantive IV as if he hadn't heard anything. Rey frowns, hoping her friend isn't trying to cover up another injury. Ever since Starkiller, he'd developed a bad habit of hiding either the injury itself or the severity of it, which had got him in trouble several times—particularly when he had lost consciousness in the middle of a debriefing.

"Finn, there's blood on your collar. Are you all right?" Rey follows him sits down next to Finn, wondering if she should make a light joke, like Snap or Jess probably would. But she is too concerned by Finn's silence, so she doesn't.

"I'm fine," Finn eventually murmurs, hand moving toward a spot under his chin. He winces before he pulls it away, fingertips dotted with dried blood.

"Early morning training practice?" she asks. Finn shakes his head, mouth set in a line. Kriff, Rey hates the man's stubborn streak sometimes; he's definitely picked it up from Poe and the other pilots.

"We could go to the medical bay, maybe Kalonia can help." Finn vehemently shakes his head.

"I'll be fine, Rey," he tells her, sounding exasperated as he takes a sip of caf.

"You'll ruin your shirt," Rey replies, knowing how to get to him. He doesn't own many clothes and has developed an unexpected streak of pride when it comes to the ones he does have. "Come on, I'll clean it up myself, that way no one has to know." With a sigh, he turns and follows Rey to the medical area.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?" asks Rey. Finn sits down as she takes out some cotton and antiseptic and begins cleaning several small cuts along Finn's jaw line. Finn glances up toward the ceiling and stays silent.

"Okay, do I need to check you for other injuries? Can you tell me that at least?"

"No," says a voice from behind them, and Finn rolls his eyes. He looks pointedly away from where Poe is coming toward them, hands in his pockets and sounding unusually contrite. "It was me."

"You?" asks Rey, glancing up in surprise. "What do you mean, you did this to him?" She stops and glances back and forth between the two men. "Oh no, did you have some sort of secret mission you didn't tell me about?"

"You'd know if we had a mission," Finn tells her.

"Not if it was secret," Poe murmurs, and Finn rolls his eyes again.

Rey holds up her hands to avoid getting in the middle of another childish argument between them, even if most of them are for show. "Look, these cuts aren't bad, but there's kind of a lot of them. What were you doing?"

"I lost a bet," says Poe.

"And I ended up losing blood," Finn throws back.

"It was your idea!" Poe exclaims.

"I didn't think you'd actually be able to do it, but I didn't think you'd mangle me trying."

Rey steps in again and begins applying bacta to Finn's cuts. Finn hisses, as it probably stings, but the cuts stop bleeding and the inflammation goes down quickly.

"So what was this bet? I hope it wasn't something…you know, unorthodox." She can feel herself blush as she says it. She knows something is going on between them, but Finn has been unusually tight-lipped about it, so she's not sure what.

"She means kinky," Poe offers, and Rey blushes even more.

"No, that one went much better," Finn replies. Poe nods and Rey almost chokes on her reply.

"I did not need to know that! Now tell me what happened—or is it that bad?"

"Rey, you're a Jedi. Haven't you figured it out by now?" Finn gives her a skeptical look, and Rey steps back, arms over her chest and feeling defensive.

"I don't read minds, Finn. I thought it might be from shaving, but you've been shaving since you left the First Order, and you haven't knicked yourself since you started, so…" She trails off as Poe sighs behind her. "What?"

"I told you—I did it," Poe says. "Shaving."

"Seriously? You did this?"

"Finn didn't think I could shave in less than three minutes. So I bet I could shave him in less than three minutes."

Rey turns back to Finn. "And you let him? Finn! What we you thinking?"

"I was thinking I'd get a week off from kitchen duty," Finn mutters. "And I still should."

"I'll do it," says Poe. "Since I…"

"Ruined my face?" Finn suggests, and Poe winces.

"And how did this even come up?" Rey isn't sure she wants to know the answer, but she's asked and can't take it back now.

"Because he takes forever in the fresher, Rey! I'm waiting at the door ready to leave before he's done half his face in the morning."

Rey shoots Poe a 'Seriously?' look that is returned with a very unapologetic shrug.

"I like to be thorough," Poe replies, running a hand over his chin. Which already has half a day's stubble.

"Thoroughly incompetent," Finn tosses out. "And don't get me started on the hair." He leans forward and stages whispers to Rey. "Do you have any idea how many hair products he has? That look is not natural."

"I'm not usually in such a rush," Poe says, sounding defensive, "nor do I usually shave other guys for fun." There is a pause. "Especially mouthy ones who like my hair."

"Some fun," Rey murmurs, head down to avoid laughing at them both.

"Not the best bet I've taken, I admit," Finn replies dryly.

"Not the best bet I've made, either," says Poe. "Look, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Mince my face?"

"Yeah, that." He stops and glances sideways at Rey. "Can I kiss it better for him?"

"No, you may not," Finn replies, standing up before Rey can even think of a comeback. "Not until I show you the right way to shave."

Poe rubs his face. "I'm game, especially if there's lots of soap involved."

Rey groans and moves away from them both. "I'm still here, and I really don't need to hear this."

"He started it," they both say at the same time. Finn finally cracks a rare but broad grin, while Poe relaxes and smiles back with genuine fondness instead of his usual cocky charm. And despite Rey's presence and Finn's warning, he steps up to Finn and kisses him on the cheek.

"I am sorry," Poe murmurs. "Show me tomorrow morning?"

"Tomorrow morning, then."

Poe smiles, claps Rey on the shoulder, and leaves the medical area. Finn watches him go, but his smile slowly changes.

"You're going to get him back, aren't you?" asks Rey, recognizing the signs of revenge being plotted. She knows it will be swift and brutal if the pranks he and some of the other pilots and ground troops engage in are any indication. Rey is thankful to be left out, even if running through the jungle and floating rocks is lonely at times.

"Of course," Finn replies calmly.

"How?" she asks.

"Don't know, yet," he says. "But I'll think of something. Something good."

"You're a cruel man, Finn," Rey calls as he walks away. And then she realizes something. "Hey Finn…if Poe tried to give you a three minute shave this morning, does that mean…"

"Mean what?" asks Finn, innocent look belying the slight twinkle in his eye. He knows exactly what Rey is implying, but he's still going to make her ask.

"Did you, well, spend the night together?"

Finn merely inclines his head in answer, a small smile playing at his lips.

"So, you two really are …"

"Not the first time, even," Finn offers in reply. He is clearly enjoying Rey's surprise; they'd all suspected it, of course, but maybe it's more serious than most of them think.

"Wow," says Rey. "Right. Of course. You and Poe." She pauses, trying to wrap her head around it actually happening after watching them dance around it for so long. "Finn," she says, unable to resist. "You know his…reputation, right?"

Finn raises an eyebrow. "It's why I'm here."

"I didn't mean his piloting skills, Finn."

"I know. Still why I'm here."

She ignores the implication. "Finn…he's older, more experienced. These sorts of things may be different for him."

Finn nods slowly, his face more serious. "And?

Rey feels like she's chewing rocks to get the words to work. "And I don't want to see you get hurt."

A funny look crosses Finn's face as he turns to leave. "I won't," he says softly. "It's good."

Rey doesn't know what to say. Poe may drive her crazy at times with his cocky charm and overconfident nature, but deep down, he is a good, honest, loyal man. Despite how Rey sometimes feels about Poe personally, she knows Finn really likes him. And from the expression on his face, maybe it's more.

"Well, at least give as good as you get," she replies, then immediately regrets it as Finn's eyebrows almost fly off his head. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Of course not." Finn grins.

"Just watch your back," Rey says, and grimaces again as Finn chokes back a laugh this time. "Kriff—never mind, you know what I mean. I hope."

Finn nods. "I think I do." He takes two steps before turning around one last time. "Thank you, Rey."

"You're welcome," she says, then calls after him. "And I'm happy for you!"

Apparently, there is more going on between Finn and Poe than she'd thought. She thinks they will be good for each other, but deep down, Rey hopes neither one of them gets hurt in the end, quick shave or not.

* * *

#Star Wars #Finnpoe #Stormpilot #Poe Dameron #Finn #Fanfic #Gmariam19 #A Quick Shave #Based on one of my own fanfics #so yes I guess i copied myself #i hope it works #it was fun to try adapting it to another fandom #milestone

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grotesquegabby · 4 years

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Might be a long answer but I wanted to ask X3 What is your opinion about every single killer in DBD?

awe shiet~ here is the list and how I feel x3

GhostFace: I just played against him and seeing him run by all I could say ahh its the sexyman himself mmmmmm.. x3 I love Ghostface but I make a lot of them mad but they arent the only killer I make mad. x3 I leved mine on the switch up to level 6 but still havent played as him. I cant wait~ They do be sneaky which makes sense its Ghostface. I also like going up against him cause the sound of his knife swing is just (9 u^u)9 beautiful~

The Shape/Micheal Myers: big and beefy mmm those broad shoulders~ Its terrifying going up against him cause just like Ghostface kind of a small terror radius plus his theme music gives me feelings. Not all of them terrifying x3 lol anyway~....for some reason Ive ended up as the obsession more often with Micheal. Lucky me? x3

The Executioner/Pyramid Head: They nerfed his ass because it was too powerful, and only a few people still have that skin for pyramid head. Bring back his ass! (9 *O*)9 ahhhhh, but mm I like him, Ive been I think...moried by Pyramid head twice. ANd hes the only killer to have moried me at the moment. He moried me each time because I pissed off whoever was playing him x3 I kept being a ...distraction.

The Trapper: Ive played against some new trappers and recently some who played him really really well. Ive heard a little of his story and eee sounds like a daddys boy. Really looks up to his dad and it did not seem like a healthy role model whatsoever but im still working on getting story since I havent played as killer just yet. Gotta be in the right mind set. uwu But this is an alright killer its easy for me to avoid traps and usually get out of them if I have Feng as my character.

The Wraith: Ive had....a time with the wraith. Recently a lot of good players have been the wraith and its frustrating but this is a killer i do feel kind of bad for. I wish I knew how the wraith became the wraith and looking like how he do but his little backstory got me feeling bad for him. But damn his invisible ass be making me mad x3 Like theres a survivor right there but no you gotta come at me. maybe he knows something about me that the survivors dont i dont know x3

The Hillbilly: I dont know if Ive won against the hillbilly but his story makes me feel bad for him too. His parents got what was coming to them. But poor guy part of mes like cant we just show this killer some love and compassion and maybe he can be better ;7; but hes gotten me a lot x3

The Nurse: The nurse i find to actually be an easier killer to face cause she moves pretty slowly but the last one I faced downed two survivors and stood right by them waiting for me and the other person still standing to come heal them. I think we managed to heal them but I dont remember if we all escaped or if she got them again. uwu I also...feel for her backstory as well. shes been through so much emotionally and mentally...im not surprised about what happened to her but i feel it could have been avoided somehow...again I feel bad for her.

The Hag: another killer I feel bad for due to their backstory...but I do dislike going against her..and her charms.....Her fucking decoys scare the shit outta me and its a bitch and a half to unhook someone x3 but it does keep one on their toes. Ive only escaped her once every time after Ive died x3

The Doctor: This bitch...ive noticed playing against the Doctor usually results in camping....letting people bleed to death and being used as bait for other survivors. Usually the Doctors are assholes from what Ive seen most of the time anytime I go agaisnt a Doctor its a lot of the same tactics.

The Huntress: I feel for her story but i also dislike how she took care of the little girls she kidnapped. Like...why did they starve to death first of all...she knows what starvation is so yeah...anyway Ive faced Huntress many times. Always narrowly avoiding her thrown hachets. fun x3 Ive tricked her many times too even when she camped this one round I faced a few days back. (- =w=-) hehehe still fixed that last generator~ But shes pretty decent to go against. I think there was a time one tried to help me exit but.....didint do so good they kept dropping me by the door expecting me to get up but i was too injured for it. then the entity got me.

The Clown: hate him...one; he ugly. two: he nasty and not in the good way. Three: i dont like his outfit..its gross. four: i find his aesthetic awful. its displeasing to my eyes. It never described what he did to his victims but.....something about him just I really dont like. Could be the fact hes kind of like John wayne gacy but....something makes me feel...gross u.u So out of most of the killers besides the Doctor the Clown does make me uncomfortable. and I love clowns but not this clown.

The Spirit: Her story made me sad..and angry. Like oof....I dont have all the words to describe how I felt for her. But shes an interesting killer, ive faced her only a few times. I can hear her scream and it sounds so sad and painful though like part of me wants to run to her and be like ahhhhhhh ill scream with you, screamings cathartic. x3

The Deathslinger: faced him once? I dont think I lived...I was the distraction too many times in that round and probably got hooked near dying so x3 but his gun is cool glad I didnt get grabbed by it though. Apparently as it drags you in he walks to you.

The Oni: big~ I mean spooky x3 I like this guy. Ive faced him a few times. I dont know his story I dont think I’ve read it yet but I do like him. Is it true him and the spirit are related, if so thats neat but damn...is her family cursed or something like whaaa! its terrifying when he gets all powered up and charges. I saw him run down the map and I was shook!

The Demogorgon: the noises...mmmm. anyway x3 recently made one mad~ stayed near me while I died on the hook. But I do enjoy going up against it as long as its one of the open maps. those building maps like the school or hispital ;7; i hate it, i hate going against any killers in those type of maps.

The Plague: I personally dont like vomit x3 but I do like The Plague. shes pretty~ (- uwu-) I faced her in the hospital and died too but like x3 it was interesting. Ive never been vomited on before oh wait nevermind babies did that to me. but by an adult no never x3 her story is interesting but I also do sort of feel for her as well cause of it.

The Legion: Didnt know these were teens till you mentioned it x3 I like their masks. Every time still...i played against legion again this week and it was one of the bunny skins. x3 they got me it was the first time a legion played saw me and got me. pretty nice playing against Legion though.

The Pig: Played against her once I think i dont think i got the trap on my head but i dont fully remember. uwu seeing the little puppet made me smile~

The Cannibal: I dont really care for the movie series despite not seeing it but ive seen enough clips and heard anough to know I wont like it. Facing him is a bitch and a half with his flailing. The last few times Ive played against him everyone died.

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davidmann95 · 5 years

Note

Re mind?

Got to the Secret Episode today, and just now finally gave in and watched the ‘good’ ending on Youtube because the boss is an absurd nightmare and I’m not waiting another week and gambling on finally lucking out to get what I paid for just because Nomura and Yasue locked the conclusion behind the sort of “you need to make every move just right down to the frame even if you’re not on Critical” challenges the die-hards live for but I can’t manage. I’ll still try it again mind you, but daddy needed to eat.

Anyway, most of my commentary below the cut, but in short: lots of really baffling and frustrating decisions here, but that’s plenty of Kingdom Hearts in a nutshell, and the quality new stuff it did have to offer was more than enough for a lifer like me to feel like I got my money’s worth.

RE:Mind: Why is 60% of this straightforwardly replaying the ending? There had to be a more efficient way of going about that. Still, while in the broad strokes this was the overexplaining of a fetch quest I feared showing how Sora rescuing Kairi would be right along, the actual new mechanics and scenery were delightful, and to my surprise and delight Kairi was easily my favorite of the new playable characters (Roxas might’ve been in different circumstances, but you play as him in a circumstance his abilities are ill-suited towards); I wouldn’t go so far as to say her role in here makes up for her misuse in the game proper, but what is on display still goes a long way. And much as the big finale with the other Guardians 100% should have been in the main game, it was so spectacular I hardly feel justified in complaining. The expanded ending was a real tearjerker on top of that. Plus on a purely personal note I liked that we got a one-on-one with Terra-Xehanort, since it always weirded me out that he ended up a side-villain after so much buildup prior to 3D making him seem like he’d be the final boss.

Limit Cut: Readers, I am such a simp stan for this franchise that when “One year later–” faded in I literally gasped so hard my ears popped, something that’s never happened before in my life. I actually loved everything here storywise - the secret ending made it seem as though IV would be taking place immediately after III (though that’s justified here somewhat) so this new context is a wild curveball, and making clear that every seemingly obvious avenue for a Search For Sora sequel to take has already been pursued to no avail raises so many more questions. As for the bosses, Xemnas and Xion were nightmares, and for some reason I was able to get through Master Xehanort in one try? And I’ve heard there’s a way to go back to the main story to level up properly for these, but I for one just had to level up in the main game and then replay RE:Mind.

Secret Episode: As noted, I had to cheese it, which is maybe a good thing because if I’d finally beaten him and only gotten about 30 more seconds of new footage I might have had a coronary. It especially sucks because if Yozora was maybe 25% easier he’d be one of the coolest fights in the franchise; all his moves are flashy and fun and come at you via avenues you’ve never encountered in the series before with that white space alone raising a dozen questions in its own right, all against a cool and contextually unique backdrop. Instead it’s a meat grinder that’s basically impossible to appreciate. Storywise though this really does feel like a playable second secret ending as much as a ‘Mysterious Figure’-esque boss battle, dreamlike and hinting at fascinating things to come, reinforcing my theory that Kingdom Hearts IV is basically going to be “Sora vs. what if Kingdom Hearts was a Gritty, Serious Series For Grown-Ups” but adding new wrinkles in Yozora’s inexplicable actions and perceptions, and a journey that while unknown clearly parallels Sora. Plus that’s totally Luxord at the end, right? And ‘the girl’ was the unknown star? And they used the Pirates of the Caribbean graphics because this is a ‘realistic’ world!

Data Greeting: An astonishing new feature that must have taken half the development time on its own, I fiddled with it for about 20 seconds before realizing I definitely don’t have the patience for it.

On the whole? Kinda more disappointing than not, a mix of baffling design decisions that make it feel weirdly small in scope and ridiculous barrier-to-entry difficulty for what function as major parts of the plot rather than the traditional vague side-story hints of secret bosses past. But what scraps it does let us feed on only make everything to come seem all the more promising conceptually and tonally, it fills in some gaps, and a lot of what isn’t for me is exactly what plenty of folks were looking for. Looking forward to what’s to come; even if IV won’t be for at least a few years yet the speedy announcement of Dark Road seems to reinforce that Disney is going to put Nomura’s nose on the grindstone and assure we aren’t going to be getting any 13 year waits again. I guess Xehanort’s gonna go to Disney worlds and they will somehow convince him that the universe must be destroyed? I’d say maybe he goes to all the extremely racist old ones to justify that, but they’d never let Nomura get away with it. But lemme tell you: if they’d let him, he would.

#Kingdom Hearts III: RE:Mind #Kingdom Hearts III #Kingdom Hearts #Opinion

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brownskinsugarplum76 · 5 years

Text

The New Girl, Part 1

I'm going to hijack something else from you today, @m-faithfull. 😁 I saw you post this pic a little while back, and I was itching to write for it. Here you go, a leonine Robert going in for the kill. 😬 Just felt like making him a little more forward this time around.

Thanks to @starchild0985 for the argument idea a while ago, and thanks to @firethatgrewsolow for the sanity check on the emotional stuff. ❤️❤️❤️

Not smut yet, but there are "adult undertones." 😎

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You round the corner with the food cart and hear them before you see them: the blaring radio and the boisterous, British-accented speech. And then there's a fearsome, metallic crash--a large, glass something, likely hurled into trash can.

You park across from the doorway, look into the room, and take a deep breath. It's your first night on the job, your first time serving a bunch of rock stars and their entourage. You've heard the stories and know that anything is possible in the green room: arguments, fist fights, food fights, hasty sex, even musicians too drunk or high to perform. But it's not just anxiety about the possible mood in the room that gives you pause. You are a huge Led Zeppelin fan, and you are as ashamed about your pink polyester work dress as you are excited to meet the young legends. You've daydreamed about meeting Robert, in particular, but certainly never under these circumstances.

You're glad to have had time to pull your copy of Led Zeppelin IV out of your locker while no one was looking and stash it on the bottom shelf of the cart, hidden behind the long, white tablecloth. An autographed vinyl would be a happy memory of the night, even if everything else went crazy.

Bonzo starts talking, and you realize things are not as jovial as you'd hoped.

"All I'm saying, Perce, is less talk between songs!" Bonzo's voice is colored with exasperation. "We both know damn well that you're just scanning the crowd to skim the finest birds off the top for yourself, innit?"

You're not sure if you should make your way into the room or stay out of the fray for a while. Since no one has noticed you yet, you decide to watch what happens next.

"How do you mean, Bonzo?" Robert's voice has all of the charm you'd expect to hear, but you don't know if his soothing tone will be enough to defuse the situation.

"All I'm doing," Robert continues, "is showing love and gratitude to the audience and setting the scene for you lot to release the sturm und drang, as it were."

"Fucking hell, Robert. Admit it, that's not the release you're most worried about! The crowds are bigger than in Birmingham, but you haven't changed your horny bastard ways one bit, matey…"

"It seems the song does indeed remain the same," Jimmy muses with a chuckle.

"I'm just surprised he ain't have a knee trembler onstage yet. G, Pagey, you're really lucky he didn't hump a pillar when you came to check him out back then. That's the sort of bollocks that I don't miss from this one." He frowns and takes a huge sip of his beer.

It seems this story is new to Jimmy and G, the imposing man you understand to be the manager. Both men exchange glances and shake their heads.

"Fuck it all!" Robert uncrosses his arms and picks up a cigarette package and lighter from the table. "Don't believe me, then." He turns his back on his critics and lights a cigarette.

You get a glimpse of his pout and his elegant fingers, marveling at how cute he looks when he's upset. Somehow this vision has neutralized any red flags raised by Bonzo's stories. You don't know why you can excuse Robert for things that would make you cold to anyone else. You are a little wary, but you know any objections you have left could be swept away with something as light as his sinful whisper in your ear, the brush of his lips against your neck, and the feathery touch of his fingers on your bud.

You are in danger of slipping deep into fantasy and decide to enter the room now to save yourself. Part of you wants to get your work over with, get your autographs, stargaze at the band and leave, but part of you wants to offer whatever comfort you can to the grumpy Robert before your eyes--just about anything he'd ask for.

Everyone else has moved on in a few different conversations. This ends up being a lucky occurrence for Robert, who is still sulking alone and notices you first.

He drops the hand with the cigarette by his side while he familiarizes himself with you. Then he lets loose with a dazzling smile.

G, the rest of the band, and the others in the room focus on you a beat later, while Robert quickly stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray. "And food saves the day. Your timing is impeccable, darlin'. Allow me to be your knight in denim and help you with that cart." He sidles up to you and rests one hand on your shoulder and the other on top of your hand. He winks at you, and you step aside so he can move the cart.

You drink in the sparkly, mostly open button-down that is hanging off of his broad shoulders, thankful that it ends just above the bulge in his jeans that won't be denied, so you can sneak a peek.

He is every bit as flirtatious as you've gleaned from the radio interviews. You get the impression that he doesn't mind the uniform you're wearing, that he's looking way past it in his mind, that he'd still flirt with you if you were wearing a potato sack. It is both a relief and something that leaves your stomach jittery.

"Our wonderful caterer…" he stares for a long time at the general region of your name tag, licks his lips, and relays your name with a wicked grin, "has brought the real food. Orange juice for Jimmy? And sandwiches and crisps for the rest of us. No need to gorge on three-day-old bananas anymore… Although there's one aged almost 25 years that's highly recommended, if you're into that sort of thing…" Robert murmurs the last part for your ears only.

You blush and are stunned by his boldness, but you get your bearings quickly, realizing things will be as out of control as you anticipated. You can't deny that you would love to spend some time alone with Robert, and you're ready to see what other bold moves he has in store.

You steady yourself to throw some of your own boldness his way. "Well, they are good for you--delicious and incredibly filling… And I do like them ripe, personally, so…" You reply just as softly and gaze into his eyes.

Inside of the stare, the two of you are zapped by a mutual, high-voltage flash of interest. Your heart races, and your body throbs.

"Prime example, this is!" Bonzo interjects from the couch. "Percy Plant plucking another flower for himself!"

"Not now, Bonzo," Robert mutters, still looking into your eyes.

You blink rapidly, realizing all eyes are on you. "Sorry… It's my first night here… I-- I've got to set these things out," you stammer to Robert. You want him, but to have things so very obviously play out in front of so many people… A curtain of shame weighs heavy on the lust that has engulfed your body.

Before you can pick up the tray of sandwiches, Robert steps in. "Allow me, love." He notices your conflicting emotions and removes all of the food from the cart for you. You're glad for his help because you feel lightheaded. The last thing you need to do is drop a tray of food on your first night and draw the ire of the rambunctious group.

"What's this, then?" Robert has peeked under the tablecloth and has found your record. "Fancy some autographs from us heathens?" He holds up the album for everyone to see.

"One of my favorites. I must commend your good taste." Jimmy's tip of his glass to you and his friendly words lighten your tension. Your thank-you to him is for his compliment as much as it is for the lifeline to normalcy that he has thrown.

Robert places a hand on your shoulder. "You know what? I'll let the rest of the lads sign first. You look like you could use some help getting this cart back where it belongs, yeah?"

You get the sense that Robert genuinely wants to blot out your embarrassment, but you know that he has other, wolfish desires alongside his altruism. You're okay with that, and you don't question why.

"That would be great." A weak smile grows stronger on your face as you think of how exciting a stolen moment with Robert will be.

"Yes, allow me to drive this for you then?" He begins to push the cart to the door.

"Thirty minutes until showtime, Robert," G calls out, knowing he won't return right away.

Robert doesn't respond to G but does motion for you to join him in the hall. You tell him which way to turn. You're back to bursting with excitement again as you leave the room in the distance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of my stories are here, or search for the hashtag #brownskinsugarplumlibrary.

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