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eggonthemoon · 26 days

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Alien Stage Round 6 Character Analysis and Lyrics Breakdown

Okay so obviously spoilers, don't click Keep Reading if you haven't watched Round 6.

God fuck it's so fucking beautiful, where do I start?

I don't even know what is going on with those rapid shots of what I assume is some form of experiment that Till was involved in. I have no clue what the goal was or if it succeeded but somehow (for no real reason other than that one image of Luka standing behind Till ominously) I feel that Luka is involved with it.

Was this an attempt by Heperu's (Luka's guardian) rival to make a human capable of going up against Luka? Till being the youngest and Luka being the oldest also means that Till's guardian could have caught on to what Heperu was planning to do with Luka and then start experimenting on humans shortly after and it would still somewhat line up with the timeline.

But I'm getting into conspiracy territory, back to suffering!!

Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet

Dissolve me in your gaze

I don't want to let you go

Oh this hurts. Seeing him look so defeated and exhausted, you can tell that even though to the public it's not certain whether Mizi died or not it doesn't matter to him. Because she's still gone away from his world, where he is unable to reach her. He wants to dissolve and die but he also doesn't want to let her go if there is even a sliver of hope that she lives.

Please, leave me scars

Please, hurt me so that

Not a single drop of me remains

Let me drown in you

The footage that plays to these lyrics really show how defeated he is. He refuses to sing, his passion for the art completely dead and buried. And (his guardian I assume) when someone shoves the fact that Mizi is gone in his face he lashes out and punches one of the aliens near him.

Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time

However his heart isn't entirely in it and is quickly apprehended.

He is beyond exhausted and doesn't even protest or put up a fight while (the same alien he punched btw) another alien runs their fingers through his hair.

On your icy lips

Read my soul

Yes, my soul

He hopes that even if Mizi is dead that her spirit watches over him, seeing his soul and by extension, Him, for all that he is. Every thought and breath until he falls asleep is for Mizi.

But didn't we already know this is how he'd be like? Time for something juicier~

Even if your cold words

Carve scars beneath my eyes

May they linger on your tongue

You can break me apart

God this is heart shattering. Even if Till doesn't care for him, even if Till throws hurtful words his way, Ivan will still lie awake at night, cherishing what sliver of attention he is given. It doesn't matter if Till hates him, because as long as he is on Till's mind Ivan is happy. He is entirely in Till's hands, capable of being build up or torn down depending on how much (or how little) he is perceived by him.

Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I'll drown in you

He wants so deeply to be seen by Till, noticed. Till who doesn't let anything hold him down and always picks himself back up became a pillar of hope and strength to Ivan. It didn't matter how or in what context he gets to be seen, so he went out of his way to provoke him just to get Till to look at him even for a moment.

This was mentioned a while back on VIVINOS Patreon but the entire incident where Mizi and Till got attacked by that hound monster was orchestrated by him. I feel like there is two possible reasons for this depending on when in the timeline this takes place.

Either he wanted to test Till's resolve in hopes of being proven wrong about his courage (after all your hopes can't be dashed on the rocks, if you never had hopes to begin with) only for his obsession to end up growing even stronger than before.

Or he tried to let Till get roughed up enough that he'd be transferred (solitary confinement? emergency room?) somewhere else away from the others at Anakt, so they could escape together.

But we all know how that turned out.

Either way what Ivan wants isn't freedom, he's long since given up on that. There's no point in his freedom if the person that inspired him to yearn for it isn't by his side. He needs Till there, his very presence to reassure him that no matter what Till won't falter. But he failed to take account of the one thing that weakens Till's resolve.

Mizi.

Mizi is to Till what Till is to Ivan. And so without Mizi in his world Till crumbles. Since Till will only go where Mizi is and Mizi already gave away her heart to someone else, it's impossible for Ivan to be free while keeping Till in his world.

And so he follows him, resigning himself to a life without freedom.

Sick of these nights to come

To be engulfed in silence

But the distance between them is killing him, and each and every day they come closer to their inevitable doom.

It doesn't matter if they believe the lie the aliens told them, that if they die singing they will be blessed. Because what is the point in that? How can going somewhere far away from the people they love be a blessing?

In your gaze where I am seen

Consume me

Yes, me

His desires mirror Till's. He wants his soul to be seen by him, recognized for his undying love for him. He wants Till to see that he can give him all that Till yearns for in Mizi and more.

To this everlasting melody

Face to face we dance

And yet Till still refuses to look Ivan in the eyes.

Things get a little unclear but since they aren't shown singing here and there's no flashback to accompany the lyrics, we can assume that at this moment Till most likely gave up on singing.

With our story

Lost in forever's embrace

I'm not sure if Ivan intended this from the start or if it's a decision he made then and there but one thing is certain. If Till stops singing then that would mean he forfeits, he'll lose. Till has never once given up. Even when he went back for Mizi that night, he never intended to leave her in the first place. But now without her he crumbles.

And Ivan can't let that happen, not like this.

Moral grey area aside, this scene is so deeply moving to me

And I don't say that in a romantic context, absolutely not. This is something much deeper than just love. This is the culmination of everything they've been through, all those moments lead up to this.

Because this isn't a kiss.

This is Ivan throwing his life away for Till.

Till was going to loose, the only thing that could overturn that is if his opponent attacks him. The kiss was to distract Till and keep him from catching up to what Ivan was planning.

Just look at the contrast between their first and second kiss. As soon as the score board shows Till is in the lead, he gives him a gentle peck on the lips. The contrast is stark and full of meaning. This was the genuine kiss, hidden behind a smokescreen of aggressive bravado created from the previous one.

And it worked. Till was completely convinced that Ivan's intentions was to kill him, and he was fully intent on letting him.

I know a lot of people doubted his intentions. Because he didn't let go of Till's neck the minute he saw their scores, a lot of people assume that this was Ivan trying to drag Till down with him.

But the minute he coughed up blood what does he do?

He smiles.

and let's Till go.

He's only human. He might know logically that Till has won the match. But emotionally he refuses to let go until he is certain.

Until he knows for a fact that he is the one bleeding and dying he'll keep up his charade.

And then.

And only then.

Till truly sees Ivan.

As he dissolves in his gaze.

#THEY RUINED MY LIFE /POS #I FUCKING HATE THEM /AFFECTIONATE #ivantill #alnst till #alnst ivan #alnst mizi #alnst #alien stage #에이스테 #ramble rumble #I don't know what happened #I had a thought and a neuron activated #I think I might have ascended #alnst spoilers #alnst round 6

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normspellsman · 1 year

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Can Only Hope

pairings: sully family x gender neutral!reader, slight spider socorro x gender neutral!sully!reader

genre: angst

word count: 3k+

warning(s): character death, mentions of death & gunshot wound

word bank: toruk makto — rider of last shadow, sa’nok — mother, sempul — father, tsmukan(s) — brother(s), tsmuke — sister, tsmuktu — sibling, ilu — aquatic animal residing in awa’atlu that it used for riding, ikran — winged animal used for flying & hunting, skxawng — idiot, & great mother / eywa — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in

note: this is my first post on here eeekkk! super excited to post this. i might start taking requests for avatar & atwow, but we’ll see! i’ve only been a reader on this app & haven’t had any motivation to write until now. i don’t know all of my way around this app regarding requests or writing formats, so if anyone has any advice to share, feel free to! it is greatly appreciated! <3 this fic is supposed to be gender neutral, so please let me know if any part of this fic does not reflect that. tuk is not mentioned in this fic & kiri is briefly mentioned. when i say you have four fingers, i mean you have a thumb & three fingers following that, just like neytiri. this is heavily inspired by @peacelovepandora ‘s account/blog. please go check them out! their work is amazing!

————

Your birth was viewed as a new beginning, of sorts. The Omatikaya had gone through so much loss, so much pain in the years that the Sky People had inhabited their planet and planned to make it their own, in hopes of replacing their dying Earth with the beautiful and brutal Pandora. Many Omatikaya had lost their lives as a result of the humans greediness, leaving many orphaned and physically scarred from the destruction they caused. It was hard to see a bright future with the humans constantly taking and taking from the People and the planet they resided on. But, it seemed to get a little bit brighter once Jake Sully, the great and mighty Toruk Makto, had lead the clans to victory against the Sky People in the Great Battle. The humans had no choice but to leave the planet, finally allowing a peaceful and bright future to form itself for the Omatikaya and the rest of the Na’vi living on Pandora. Many celebrations were held in thanks to Toruk Makto’s as well as in triumph for the humans finally leaving their home after thirty years. But another one was celebrated after it was announced that Neytiri te Tsahka Mo’at’ite was with child, marking a new era for those who were succeeded after the Great Battle. You were the new stepping stone for the bright future of the Omatikaya. An omen of good fortune to come to all of Pandora.

Being the eldest child of Toruk Makto had been difficult, especially growing up. Much was expected of you, duties upon duties being put onto your shoulders from such an early age. You had to live up to such high expectations, something that came with being the first child of Jake Sully, a once Dreamwalker, and the clans most fiercest warrior, Neytiri. Constantly training to one day stand in front of your people and be recognized not just as Toruk Makto’s kid but as their leader as well. Although you had the typical features a regular Na’vi should have, four fingers on each hand and no traces of hair on your brow bones, children are still cruel. They constantly called you names that most definitely shouldn’t be repeated, pulled on your tail and hair, spit at you, told you that you’d never be good enough to be clan leader one day, and bothered you during your trainings. You’d cry to your Sa’nok about it once you came home from training, sniffling into her neck as you repeated the awful things kids your age said to you. And even with your parents butting in and demanding the children to stop, you couldn’t help but believe the words they uttered, plagued by the possibility of them being right. So, you pushed and pushed yourself to be the best you could be. Spending whatever free time you had from archery training in your Grandmother’s tent, eager to learn what every herb did and what technique she used when applying paste onto an injured Na’vi, watching her every move. And spending whatever free time you had from that practicing your tracking skills. You did a lot to prove yourself and tried your best to look unfazed by the little amount of sleep you received daily. But as the words that you and your family had to potentially leave your home and clan, everything that you knew, spilled from your Sempul’s mouth, the only thought that came to your mind was Was it all not enough?

Adjusting to your new life at Awa’atlu was extremely difficult. You were a foreigner in a foreign place and your title meant nothing to these people. Sure you earned a little respect and street cred from being the eldest child of the Toruk Makto, but it still wasn’t enough to earn you place amongst the Metkayina. So, once again, you trained and trained until your muscles felt utterly useless from the amount you swam and your lungs felt numb from continuous breath holding. But, as every day passed and the sun rose in signal for a new start, you slowly got the grasp of the way of the water. And you actually found yourself relaxing in the oceans water as you silently floated there once you were excused from your training, a small smile on your face. It was nice to finally relax for once, the feeling a bit foreign to you. Back home, you never got a chance to relax, always busy with pleasing your parents and everyone else in the clan, leaving you without any room to simply breathe. The whole thing kind of felt like a vacation almost. No longer having this weight on your shoulders to become the next clan leader and live up to your clans expectations of you. That is, until the humans find your family in the one place you were supposed to be safe.

You grew up with the stories of the Sky People and their selfishness, how quick they were to claim something that wasn’t theirs and how quick they were to fight over it, not caring for the blood that they spilled in the process. Growing up, you’d have nightmares about the humans coming back to Pandora and slaughtering the ones you loved right in front of you, not being able to move quick enough to stop them. Your Sempul often pulled you into his arms and rocked you in comfort, trying to whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you fell asleep in his hold. He’d then lay you back down in between himself and Neytiri, placing a soft kiss onto the crown of your head before quickly falling asleep as well. As you aged, they became few and far in between, dreaming of flying your beloved ikran or messing around with your youngest siblings. But once the humans returned to Pandora a year before leaving for Awa’atlu, the came back in full force. Your family were awaken many nights by your crying or screaming, rousing you from your sleep to comfort you, sobbing into their gentle hold as the dream kept repeating in your minds eye. You were terrified of having your family be taken away from you and, perhaps, that’s where your fear of disappointment came from and not the cruel children you had encountered early on in your life. You wanted to be a protector and protect the ones you loved, and protect you did.

The sting of the salt water is what drew your attention to the middle of your aching chest, looking down to witness the crimson red leak from your body and mix itself into the clear water you were submerged in. You hadn’t even realized you were shot in the process of jumping into safety, barely even processing the whizzing bullets flying passed you as you dived feet first into the water. All you were focused on was getting your little tsmukans, Neteyam and Lo’ak, to safety during their mission to rescue their human friend, Spider. Your personal safety was the last thing on your mind, demanding that your brothers and Spider go first jumping into the moon pool, shooting back at the fake Avatars. There weren’t many times where you saved your brothers asses from the things they managed to get themselves into, that job being put onto Neteyam by your parents. So, this being one of the only times that you saved both of their asses and were going to die as a result, put a gentle smile on your face. At least I would go out protecting those you cared about, you thought to yourself.

Your struggle was noticed by Neteyam, halting him in his celebrations with Lo’ak and Spider. “Are you alright, tsmuktu?” He asked, making his way towards you as he glided through the water. His eyes didn’t clock in on your hand over your chest yet, too busy watching you nearly drown as you struggled to keep your head above water. It was as if once you registered that you were shot, your body began to shut down at the realization. Your once strong legs forged by the oceans unpredictable current were now struggling to keep yourself up and lazily kicking, your left arm desperately trying to make up for your legs inability to work at the moment, making crazed movements underneath the water to stay upright. You lungs and chest also burned, not accepting any of the air you tried to suck in from above the waters surface. “I’ve been shot, skxawng,” you uttered, spitting out the water that managed to make its way into your agape mouth. Everything burned, even within the oceans cool water.

“Fuck,” Neteyam whispered, grabbing the arm that wasn’t covering the open wound in your chest and wrapping it around his shoulder, trying not to openly sob at your cries of protest in pain. It was now Lo’ak’s turn to notice your current state. He tensed at your cry and found himself praying to the Great Mother that it wasn’t what he thought it was. Neteyam’s following statement only solidified his fear, “(Y/N)’s been shot! Help me get them up!”. Both the brothers and Spider helped you up onto the back of Lo’ak’s ilu, Neteyam settling himself behind you as Spider gripped onto the side of the ilu’s saddle. The four of you raced to the nearest piece of rock that was in direct eyesight, Lo’ak calling out to your Father once he notices him atop the rock they were aiming for. Fear had instilled itself into the younger Sully brothers, hoping that whatever was happening was not the last time you would take a breath.

“Watch their head, bro!” Lo’ak called out against the crashing waves, rocking his, and everyone’s else’s, body up against the jagged rock they were trying to hoist you up on to. You coughed up a mouthful of water in response, gasping for air once the wave that splashed you pulled back and granted you air. “What happened?” Jake hurriedly asks, pulling your body into his arms before gently setting you down onto the rough surface of the rock. He swiftly moves you to your side to assess if whether or not the bullet that pierced you also came out the other side. His heart dropped once he saw the exit wound, even more of your blood gushing out from it. Jake could only close his eyes as he gently shifted you back onto your back, dread making its way up his stomach and into his heart. Jake had witnessed a many of deaths during his time in the marines on Earth. And although he had gotten used to the feeling those deaths gave him, nothing would’ve ever prepared him for the feeling of losing one of his children before his time. Jake found himself thinking of his twin brother, Tommy, at this time, wondering if his death had been like yours, painful, or had been quick and peaceful. Jake quickly shook his head at the thoughts. This is no time to think of your late brother, Jake, he thought. Your child needs you.

“Is-Are they going to be okay?” Spider asked, keeping his distance from Jake and the rest, guilt crawling up his chest and settling into his throat. He tried to gulp down the feeling, but that seemed to only make it worse. No one answers the human boy, too occupied with their dying loved one in front of them. You never made an effort in befriending the boy, your Mother influencing your thoughts on the boy as well as being too terrified to. If all Sky People are said to be what your Mother told you as a child, then you didn’t want to interact with one. But, as you lay dying on the small piece of rock, you couldn’t help but feel bad for not giving the kid a try. One conversation wouldn’t have hurted, right?

Neteyam had put both of his hands over the wound in your chest, as demanded by your Father, in order to slow the blood from further oozing out. “You’re gonna be okay, okay?” Neteyam comforted, although it seemed to be more directed to himself than you, “You have to be. You’re my big tsmuktu. You’re invincible.”. Neteyam’s words only caused more tears to leak out from your eyes. You hadn’t even known you were crying. Whether from the pain or the realization that you were, in fact, dying, you did not know. Neteyam always looked up to you growing up. Although you were only a year older, he still viewed you as his role model. You carried yourself with such grace and confidence, he often found himself trying to memorize your strides and how you pulled back a bow effortlessly, practicing what he could remember whenever he was alone, desperate to be just like his older sibling. As the both of you grew older and drifted apart, he still viewed you as someone to look up to and strive to be like. A much younger Neteyam also viewed you as invincible, untouchable by the bad things that lurked within the depths of the dark corners of Pandora. And now, as a teen, he still viewed you as invincible. Even as you lay bleeding out in front of him, he still thinks you are because you protected him and Lo’ak and Spider from the soldiers on the ship. You gave up your life for him, and for that, he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“You still have to finish that bracelet for me, (Y/N),” Lo’ak sobbed out, grasping your free hand into his as he knelt in front of you, next to Neteyam. You only shakingly smiled at your brother, trying your best at squeezing his hand in response, but your fingers only gently fluttered at the attempt. You had begun to weave a bracelet for your youngest brother the night after he was abandoned at the Three Brothers, hoping to cheer him up from the hurtful words your Father spewed at him. You were never a good weaver so it took longer than expected, even with the help of your tsmuke, Kiri. Upon hearing of your struggle from the complaints of Kiri, Lo’ak felt warmed at the nice gesture you were doing. Growing up, Lo’ak always loved the things you made, even if they were a total disaster and halfway down. He still cherished them in his heart. He often found himself ‘accidentally’ breaking a bracelet he or someone else made and asking you to fix it for him or make him another one, excitedly waiting behind you as you did so, tail furiously wagging behind him in joy at his successful attempt at getting you to make him another bracelet of your creation. You pretended to not notice Lo’ak’s continuous purposeful breaking of handmade bracelets he received, happy to make him another one. It made you feel wanted and useful, especially if you had another encounter with one of the child bullies within your clan that day.

“D-Dad…” You weakly called out, turning your head and gaze towards your Father. Tears were running down his eyes as his gaze shifted back onto you, smiling down at you the best he could, putting on a front so you wouldn’t worry. “Yes, angel?” He asked, taking your right hand into his large ones, resting it against his cheek in hopes of comforting you. “I-I did it. Y-yeah? I pro-protected them, D-Daddy. I tried. R-re-really hard. I did. Got th-then t-to safety,” you responded, struggle evident in your voice as you stuttered over your words. That’s all you wanted to do back on that ship. Protect your brothers and get them to safety. You were glad to have achieved your goal, but at what cost? You were only sixteen years old and had so much ahead of you. Even before being forced to leave your home clan, you dreamt of becoming a fierce warrior and leader for your people and possibly having a family of your one day. But that all was ripped from you by a single bullet. Jake found himself cursing Eywa and all the other higher beings for taking his child’s life away far too soon to actually experience it. It wasn’t fair at all. But, nothing ever if fair is it? The Great Mother only gives and borrows energy, having the power to take it away all in one breath. And Jake is learning the hard way of what the Great Mother is truly capable of.

“Yeah, yeah you did, angel. You protected your brothers and brought them back to me,” Jake answered, brushing some matted flyaways from your forehead, the dried up seawater making the hair cling to your skin, “I’m so proud of you.”. Upon hearing that statement, you felt contentment settle itself between your bones. You longed for those five words for years, especially if they came from your Father. It wasn’t very often that either of your parents expressed their feelings about your accomplishments to you. Sure they might’ve bragged to other clan members about how you claimed and bonded with your ikran in little than two minutes, setting a new record for young Omatikaya, and they might’ve put you on a golden pedestal to others, highlighting how nearly perfect you were at everything you did. But they never said those kinds of things to you up front. A few “Good job”’s here and there, but nothing too impactful as those five words that your Father just uttered.

It seemed as if the constant battle your body was engaging with had came to an end, numbness spreading to your entire being as the only thing you could do was continue to breathe shallow breaths and look up at your Father. Your heart was tired of pumping blood throughout your body only to be pushed out of it. Your lungs could only take small breaths at a time, not having the energy to fully expand at your inhales. Your head began to feel fogging, all your senses dimming as you barely registered your Mothers ikran harshly landing in front of you. “What-” the question that Neytiri was going to asked for stuck in her throat as her eyes fell into the scene in front of her. Her eldest child, the light of her life, was limp and covered in blood, who she hoped wasn’t yours. “My baby,” she whispered, quickly falling onto her knees in front of you, Neteyam moving out of the way so your Mother could see you in your final moments. Flashes of her giving birth to you, feeding you from her breast for the first time, playing with you as a babe, teaching you how to walk and talk, and all your other firsts you experienced throughout your sixteen years of life on Pandora raced through her mind once she saw the bullet wound settled into the middle of your chest, draining all life from you. You had been her first child, her pride and joy, and to see you like this, pale and sticky with your own blood, made her want to trade places with you. In an alternative universe, she would’ve.

“Oh, Great Mother, please. No!” She shrieked, grabbing onto both of your biceps, trying to hug you closer as more of your soul and life slipped away at each passing second. You wanted to comfort her, to tell her that it’ll all be alright, but you physically weren’t able to speak, too fatigued to open your mouth. So, you just laid there as your Mother brought you close to her chest, seemingly trying to share her life force with you, to spare you from the cold grasp of death. Jake could only watch as Neytiri pleaded for the Great Mother to spare you, heart strings tugging at her desperate wails. He knows that Eywa always has a plan, but does that really include taking his eldest child’s life away? He began to doubt the entity that breathed life into everything on Pandora, just like he did back on Earth with all the other ones. Would she really be that cruel?

Lo’ak was the first to notice you completely go slack and relaxed, your eyes focused on the eclipsing sun in front of you. He didn’t want it to be true, calling out your name in hopes for your eyes to shift from the sun to him. But, it never came. Neytiri pulled you back from her chest, gently shaking you in hopes that you’d awake. But, you didn’t. Upon the realization that the eldest Sully child had finally passed and was reunited with Eywa, everyone broke. Neytiri let out multiple screams and wails, begging for you to come back. Jake had only closed his eyes once again, tears escaping from his waterline. Neteyam looked down at his blood stained hands, feeling like his palms were on fire. Even then, years after your death, Neteyam can still feel the weight of your blood on his hands and the sticky feeling it left behind, no matter how many times he scrubbed at them. Spider continued to stand in his spot, motionless. He couldn’t help but feel as if your death was his doing. Maybe if he didn’t get kidnapped by Quaritch, you’d still be alive. Maybe if he didn’t need Lo’ak’s help in rescuing him from the ship, you’d still be alive. Maybe if he was able to go into cryo and be shipped back to Earth, you’d still be alive. And Lo’ak felt his body go cold. He slumped back in the spot he was sitting in, bringing his hands up to his face as he sobbed into them. He felt as if he was at fault too. Maybe if he didn’t insist on going to get Spider, you’d be alive. Maybe if he didn’t get caught in that net, you’d still be alive. Maybe if he didn’t go to that stupid broken down lab and get held hostage by Quaritch, you’d still be here. But that’s all the Sully family can do. Think of what if’s and only pray that your soul makes a safe return into the afterlife and that you only stay blissfully ignorant to the fact that you died and are no longer living. They can only hope.

And, along with your death, the new peaceful beginning that was prophesied and hoped for at your birth, died as well.

918 notes · View notes

lunar-wandering · 2 years

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starlight starbright

@lego-sand stole my hcs and made their own hc so i stole their hc and wrote this

A small rustle behind him was the only warning Macaque got before he was being tackled to the ground.

Panic didn’t kick in the way it should’ve when one was attacked, but instead Macaque let out a small practically unhearable laugh, which was easily covered up by the much louder laugh of the person tackling him. Rolling over, Macaque tried to pin the other down, but only succeeded in making the other roll as well, until they were eventually just rolling around on the ground.

Macaque let out a small hiss as his knee scraped against a rock on the ground, and suddenly the rolling stopped, Macaque letting out a small noise as he ended up pinned to the ground.

He looked up into the bright concerned eyes of the Monkey King, Sun Wukong.

“Are you okay?” Wukong asked, letting go of Macaque’s wrist, thankfully either oblivious to or ignoring the way Macaque’s face had flushed. “What’s wrong- oh.”

There was a thin line of blood dribbling down Macaque’s leg, originating from a small cut on his knee.

“Ah.” Wukong’s arms flailed slightly, hovering over the wound for a moment before pulling away, as though he was uncertain of what to do, before he hung his head a little. “...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Macaque said, “It’s fine, I can patch it up later-”

“Wait- I can kiss it better!”

“What.”

“It’s something I learned about from the humans!!” Wukong said, looking proud of himself, “You kiss a wound and it doesn’t hurt anymore!”

“Wukong- I don’t think that’s how it works-” Macaque started, but was cut off as Wukong grabbed hold of his face, pulling him towards him, squishing his face as he kissed him. Macaque let out a strangled sound, muffled against Wukong’s lips, blinking, the blush returning full force, feeling like…a warm energy was washing over him.

Wukong pulled away and let out a little gasp, but Macaque didn’t notice that, instead looking down at his knee and watching as the cut healed.

“H-huh… I guess it works- hey!” Macaque stuttered, then squeaked when Wukong grabbed hold of the edge of his clothes, pressing another kiss to his cheek. “What- it’s already healed- Wukong!”

Wukong leaned back a bit, letting out a little laugh, and Macaque mentally reeled from the stare Wukong was giving him, before Wukong was going in for another kiss.

Macaque let out another squeak, wiggling a little as Wukong continued to pepper kisses all over his face. With each one came that same bit of energy, like he was being infused with the light of the sun. It made him want to move, but at the same time…

He wanted to melt into the ground and never come out.

Wukong let out a giddy little laugh before pressing another kiss onto Macaque’s forehead, and Macaque’s hands shot up to stop him before he could place a kiss on one of his ears.

“WhA-” Macaque started, coughing when his voice cracked and started again. “What are you doing?? It’s like- like you’ve gone ki-kiss……kiss crazy or something.”

“You should see yourself, Starlight.” Wukong said, let out a little giggle, and then was standing up, ignoring the other’s confusion as he reached down, grabbing Macaque’s hand and pressing a little kiss against it, Macaque’s tail wagging in response, as he pulled Macaque up to his feet and practically dragged him over to the lake, giggling with giddy energy the entire way. Macaque stumbled over his own two feet, but whenever he was about to fall, Wukong would pull his hand up a little more and press another tiny kiss to it, shocking Macaque into staying upright.

Macaque couldn’t even voice a question at him as Wukong happily gestured towards the lake. In flustered confusion, Macaque glanced down-

There were little glowing dots all over his face.

Macaque blinked, before reaching up to rub his cheeks.

The marks stayed.

“Stars!!” Wukong said, and Macaque barely kept himself from falling over into the lake when the Monkey King suddenly put his arm over his shoulders, leaning against him and rubbing their cheeks together. “It’s tiny stars. You’re my Starlight!!”

Macaque made a small flustered noise, making Wukong let out another giggle. Removing his arm from Macaque’s shoulders, he instead gripped Macaque and turned him around to face him.

“Starlight, starbright, brightest star I see tonight.” Wukong whispered, eyes briefly flashing pink. “Kiss I may, kiss I might, have this kiss with you tonight.”

And then he was leaning forwards, pressing another kiss onto Macaque’s lips.

Macaque closed his eyes, blush strong on his face, feeling a bit weak in the knees, he took a step back-

And fell backwards, Wukong falling with him, sending the both of them tumbling directly into the lake.

#Monkie Kid #shadowpeach #my writing

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bibliophiliac-bisexual-disaster · 5 months

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I don't know how many of you have paid attention to the JJK 0 opening song "Greatest Strength" but if you haven't, you're missing out. The song itself is beautiful and it becomes even more emotional if you think of the song from not just Yuta's but Gojo's perspective and interpretation. In my interpretation of this song, the first half that is slower and more intimate is about Gojo and Geto and the second part where the rock elements kick in is Gojo addressing his students (listen to the song that way, you're never going to unhear it).

But what I really wanna focus on is this line from it:

"Your weakness if your greatest strength"

I think this line is incredibly interesting (read: heartbreaking) when interpreted in Gojo's context. Gojo's weakness, proven beyond a shadow of doubt by the series, is Geto. Well, less of a weakness, more of a vulnerability, but for the man expected to bear the weight of the jujutsu world and the title of The Strongest, those two are virtually the same thing.

So how is Geto both his weakness and his greatest strength? Well, if I were a cornier, less character focused person, I'd say "love is the greatest strength" or some shit like that. But anyone with the least bit of familiarity with Gojo's character knows that that's not something he would say. He's not one for sentiment. That being said, what I think is meant by "greatest strength" is the effect that Geto had on Gojo. Geto was Gojo's only friend. His influence brought out a softer, more humane side of Gojo. It was Geto slipping through the cracks that inspired Gojo to take on the herculean task that is changing the jujutsu society from the ground up by becoming a teacher. Making sure what happened to Geto never repeats with another kid and building a world that is kinder and better than the ones Geto and Gojo had to face becomes Gojo's purpose. And in that way, Geto is both his source of vulnerability and the foundation of his ideals.

But let's take this even further. I mentioned earlier that I think the first part of this song is for Geto and the second for his students? Well, this line falls in a place kind of toward the end of that first part. So I believe "greatest strength" refers to more than just Satoru - it refers to his students. Gojo wants his students to be on par with him, to dismantle the hierarchical notion of power and strength in jujutsu society. And he's kind of succeeding. Not only are they extremely powerful, but they also stand united and understand the problems of the system. They are Gojo's trump cards. To sum it up, he forged the trauma he and Geto (his weakness) went through into a will to affect change, and his students became his greatest strength in that pursuit.

#jjk anime #fandom #jjk gojo #jjk #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #my writing #spilled ink #jjk spoilers #spilled thoughts #writers on tumblr

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sketching-shark · 1 year

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Wallflower

So far, the party was going far better than Sun Wukong could have hoped, likely because he, besides providing some food and drink at an already laden table, was taking care to not involve himself in any of the conversations around the spacious room.

When Qi Xiaotian had proudly announced that he had found a time, date, and place big enough to host a smaller and more intimate version of the massive parties both humans and yaoguai had thrown to celebrate the defeat of the Lady Bone Demon, the Monkey King did have his doubts. After all, the varying individuals who his tudi had included on the invite list of “Team Saviors of All Reality” included numerous individuals--from the Lotus Prince to the Six Eared Macaque--who had tried to kill him at some point. And that wasn’t even factoring in that for as much as Qi Xiaotian dismissed his shifu’s hesitantly expressed but still honest concerns that there wasn’t a one among that group which wasn’t enraged at the Monkey King for one (good) reason or another, Sun Wukong was convinced that his presence would raise what already promised to be a tense atmosphere to a boiling point. He had stayed up one night after another, feeling like he couldn’t disappoint Qi Xiaotian once again by refusing to go, but was terrified of what his presence in that crowd could lead to. In the end, Sun Wukong decided it was far past time to fully abandon his laid-back and sickeningly cheery attitude in favor of going in, getting some food to be polite, and then staying out of the way. And thus Operation Wallflower was a go.

He had expected the hateful glares. He had known the snide comments and huddles of whispered accusations were coming. But that was fine. Actually, it was more than fine! No one had confronted him after Sun Wukong, staying quiet and keeping his eyes downcast, had grabbed a quick plate before seating himself in a corner away from the party’s center. There, Monkey King could sneak peeks at the crowd as a totality, and he kicked himself once again for having doubted his tudi. He had never expected to be in a room where Li Nezha and the Demon Bull King could be at least indifferent towards each other, but somehow his tudi had pulled it off. It was Qi Xiaotian’s ability to make at least grudging allies of even bitter enemies that made the Monkey King particularly confident in his choice of a successor.

The kid was succeeding well in an area that Sun Wukong had failed in spectacularly, and he couldn’t be more proud.

Not that he had anything about himself to be proud of. Not like they wouldn’t have even HAD to make such a massive effort or gone through all that grief to stop the bone witch if it wasn’t for the stupid monkey and his stupid ideas and his inevitable fail-

Sun Wukong shook himself out of that familiar spiral as his tudi approached, a smile on his face and two cups in hand.

“Monkey King! Isn’t this great? I never thought so many of the famous heroes and legends I read about my entire life would someday just...talk to me! I...I never thought I’d get to be a hero too. So, well, thank you. For being here. For letting me have this.”

Sun Wukong offered is tudi a small but genuine smile. “I’m glad you feel that way, bud. It’s only what you deserve.”

Qi Xiaotian grinned wider at his shifu’s words, and then offered the Monkey King one of the cups. It was, so Qi Xiaotian informed Sun Wukong, filled with plum wine that the Long family had ordered specifically for this get together, and it was, so his tudi continued in a tone that made Sun Wukong realize the young man was somewhat tipsy, absolutely delicious. Its fragrant scent certainly seemed to stand testament to its undoubtedly wonderful flavor. And yet. And yet.

“It’s real nice of you to offer me some, bud, but I....”

Remember how you spent your nights binging with friends and your days killing more humans than you could count. Remember how you quashed any secret misgivings towards your decisions with false cheer and plum wine. Remember how your party crashing and drunkenness in heaven ended with your children all dead and you cursed with immortality and now there’s no being but one who doesn’t hate you and it’s your fault your fault your fault YOUR FAU-

“...I don’t drink. Not anymore.”

#monkie kid #monkie kid sun wukong #qi xiaotian #there is quite a bit of indication in the og classic that the monkey king was among other things a violent alcoholic #but you could argue that in the lego show verse those were in retrospect the most successful and happiest years of his life #oh no

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elkian · 2 years

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This is something that’s occurred to me before, but I just realized it’s only come up in writing projects I haven’t uh... actually finished, let alone posted:

Vulpes Inculta Lies To Your Goddamn Face.

When you amble into Nipton, you can ask the furry with the chainsaw what happened to the good people. To paraphrase, he answers, “What good people? Everyone here was evil to the core and I did the world a service.“

More relevantly, he goes on to say that none of the townsfolk, not a single person, not a one, does anything to stop the Legion. He says they all sat back and waited passively for their turn to die, in the hopes that they might be the lucky survivor.

Okay, pause for a sec.

Have you ever met a human being?

Humans are deeply spiteful and contrary - not everyone, mostly not all the time, but it is something that comes up again and again in history. Rebellions, slaves fighting back, oppressed classes protesting and fighting for basic rights. We aren’t perfect, but we are capable of of saying “fuck the status quo”.

Now, importantly, this is Nipton’s first (and last) official interaction with the Legion. It sounds like a spy or two were sent in before “Mr. Fox” came by to bait the trap, but this was an independent town that notoriously served its own interests alone, refusing to side with or against the NCR, Powder Gangers, nor presumably Legion.

This is not a population used to the way Legion does things, indoctrinated former tribals or those born into its world, these were free contractors.

When the fuck have humans ever said “oh you’re going to kill all but like 2 of us? guess I’ll sit by and wait my turn!“ *

Not to mention this is the Wasteland. Nipton is an established town and what little you look up doesn’t mention raiders, but you have to pass by raider groups both directly before and after entering it, not to mention the Radscorpions and other wildlife threats. There had to at least be a few people in town who knew how to fight, because the town was still there by the time the Legion arrived.

With me so far?

Two places stand out to me. First, one of the houses in Nipton was a pain and a half for my noob self and I ended up having never looted it, because it is abrim with traps. There’s a Mr. Gutsy, a cage full of Radscorpions, and who knows what else.

There is a dead Legionnaire in this house.

The second place is the mobile homes sort of outside the town, to the right of where you come in. In fact, you can check them out without triggering Vulpes’ conversation. There’s several dead townsfolk out here, one of whom is holding an energy weapon. There is also an ash pile. If you inspect that ash pile?

[ID: Screenshot from Fallout: New Vegas. It displays the contents of an ash pile, which are a Legion Recruit Armor and a Machete, a common weapon of the Legion. End ID.]

That is two places where you can find legitimate proof that someone, actively or passively, fought back against the fate of Nipton. You find no Legionnaire corpses in Town Hall if I recall, but they failed to clean up other locations, perhaps not even aware of their losses but I doubt it. Vulpes surely knows that the good people of Nipton fought back, even succeeding in killing his soldiers, and he lies directly to your face about it.

*Given what I’ve heard of the other Bethesda ““Fallouts”“ this might be a valid expectation in another game, but definitely not here.

EDIT: Made the asterisk more visible.

#elk text #fallout #fnv #fallout new vegas #long post tag #i got back on the game and got the screenshot so time to post this lol

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holistic-alcoholic · 2 years

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I'm thinking about civil war again. Let's ramble about it.

Disclaimer: I haven't seen this movie in 4 years and I refuse to do so because it will break my soul. But. But.

I think we're wrong to see only two teams in a conflict about the accords, Tony vs Steve. There are three: Tony, Steve, and The Government(/The System/The Man/Ross/whatever). And this triangle isn't equilateral.

The Accords were given to them from the outside source, with Ross being the harbinger, and they can't actually refuse them. There's no working world where people have this kind of power and no control from any of the governmental structures without being called criminals, but the governmental control usually Sucks Ass, so — logically — both sides of Steve/Tony argument make sense. I mean, read about the social contract and everything those old dead white men argued about — the problem of the human rights vs the governmental oversight is a real life world argument old enough for us all to be sick about it, and while mcu simplify it extremely (as they love to do), the basics still apply. Total anarchy doesn't work, an authoritarian government doesn't work, you need to find another solution to make it work.

And they could have, but here's when the personal stuff comes in.

Steve doesn't truly get the need for the Accords, and that is rooted in his own experience — he never truly felt The Guilt before this movie. Some guilt, yes, compassion, yes, but it was never tied up to his identity. He was always trying to do the right thing, he succeeded in all his personal battles, and while yes, there was collateral damage, there's still a knowledge in him that he did everything he could — because he did, because it mostly worked. He was formed and bred as a hero by the army, he accepts the fact that sometimes death is inevitable (Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?). And he has an objectively amazing ability to stay his ground and change the narrative around him until he gets what he wants just by the power of his will. Bucky is captured? He goes on his own and saves him. He leads the commandoes to the war and he goes to the front door and he doesn't care about the enemy: he just does it, straightforward. He's not used to failing, to compromise, because he never needed it, because before his will and righteousness were strong enough to bend reality and get him his win.

So, two points: 1) Steve doesn't get the need to yield and compromise, and 2) Steve doesn't get the Guilt and the constant uncertainty about whether am I doing the right thing.

On the other hand, there's Tony and Natasha — the loudest voices of the pro-accords team — who Get It. Tony's whole motivation is this guilt, he sees iron man as an impossible penance. And obviously — I think I would just cut the wire — he knows about compromises and hard decisions. His MO is to find some tricky solution that will save everyone, and fix everything. And Nat's the same in this.

The tragedy is — their only way to get out of it is to be united, both Steve & Tony vs The System, because Tony sees the Accords' necessity and can work with them, but he needs Steve's uncompromising will to stand his ground, to argue every fucked up rights violation. But they lose — both of them lose before Zemo, even — because they can't fucking talk to each other.

But, I think, this is also the moment where healing can begin. Because the Accords argument? After cw Steve can finally understand it, because he's finally in a situation where he made the wrong choice and Fucked Up Real Bad (and, also, going by this logic, Bucky would be pro-accords, because of The Guilt and the need to have a failsafe for when he can't control himself, so with Bucky the whole dynamics of team cap in the accords argument change).

While, you know, Tony has his own guilty freak out about the secret prison and how can he fix the government fucking up everything with its power grab wishes.

Which would make for really cool character development for everyone. Just imagine the payoff.

#cacw #tony stark #steve rogers #cw meta #marvel meta #this is a rant about my personal feelings about this movie and I don't want any critisis #m #because while I accept that you can think differently I don't care

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neonthewrite · 2 years

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Circus Mouse

The prompt today is "Exhausted" and I really wanted to do something with Gailen, a character I don't think I've had the pleasure of sharing anywhere yet.

~~~

A high wire made of yarn pulled taut. A hanging hoop made of reeds twisted into shape. A couple matchstick trapezes. The miniature acrobatics course stood sturdy on the center of a solid wooden table, carefully arranged to not shift in place. It hadn’t had a net beneath it for a long time. Gailen always took extra care when running his routine, with flips and turns and balancing acts all coming one after the other at a rapid pace. One step out of line could get him a bruise, at best, and a sprain or a break at worst.

Then, it’d be up to the whims of the Ringmaster to see how much worse his day would get. With that in mind, Gailen hadn’t misstepped in years.

He caught the trapeze and used his own momentum to swing forward, letting go at just the right moment to flip gracefully backwards through the air. As soon as he was upright again, he stretched out his legs in preparation and landed squarely on a tiny platform suspended a foot and a half over the surface of the table. Compared to his three and three quarter inch height, the drop below was perilous indeed.

He paid it no mind at all as he bowed deep, one hand over his chest and the other spread to the side in a flourish. His tail, a wiry length that ended in a tuft of honey-colored fur the same color as the hair on his head, curled behind him in a way that showed off what an exotic and fancy little creature he was. As if the tailor-fitted outfit wouldn’t do that enough.

The room filled with delighted applause from the ten or so patrons, some of them letting out wordless noises of amazement for the finale of his act. Gailen panted but straightened up to offer them all a showman’s grin, hiding his exhaustion.

Giant faces all smiled at him but they didn’t really see him. He might be the star attraction of Sal the Happy’s traveling circus, but he wasn’t classed as a performer like the others. His name wasn’t used to pull in curious patrons, he didn’t get paid, he lived in an old shoebox with the lid fastened on it when not working.

He was a prisoner with a work ethic born out of necessity. So he waved happily to the patrons as they filed out of the small tent, chatting excitedly as they went. So long as they didn’t see through the smoke and mirrors of the circus, he could go another day without meeting the gripes of the Ringmaster.

Indeed, it seemed Sal was pleased; the human stepped around the table from where he’d mostly hidden himself out of Gailen’s spotlights, looming despite being a stout, dumpy man. He always had a smirking sort of quality to his smiles, even when he didn’t seem all that smug otherwise. His bright red coat and top hat were meant to make him look like a jolly, friendly circus man, and they mostly succeeded. Even having seen his bad moods, Gailen almost believed it sometimes himself.

A white-gloved hand reached out and snatched Gailen off his suspended platform with little warning. Gailen knew to curl himself up safely until he was brought before the man’s face, where he could stand freely on a palm. Sal always held him so close to his eyes as if worried he might slip away otherwise.

“Excellent work, my boy,” he said, his voice loud and jovial. Gailen’s ears, long and covered in honey-colored fur, flattened back from the noise. Sal never quieted himself for Gailen’s benefit. “I dare say they may come back the next few nights before we move on.”

Gailen couldn’t really argue. Sal knew people better than Gailen did. “They did seem pretty impressed.”

Sal smirked again and used a finger on his free hand to ruffle Gailen’s hair. “So modest, little Gailen. They love you. The crowd can’t get enough. Now, are you ready to start again? The next group will be eager to see you.”

Gailen wasn’t, but he nodded anyway. One blessing of his smaller size was that Sal couldn’t see the quivering of his muscles very easily, even from this close. “Better put me down and get out there so you can rile them up first.”

The Ringmaster chuckled, but did just that. As soon as his hand was close enough to the table, Gailen hopped down and hurried over to the starting point for his routine.

Just a few more left in the day. Then he could go back to his box and collapse on his tobacco-tin bed.

#gtjuly #gtjuly2022 #mywriting #gailen the wisper #whisper on the run #circus #gt #g/t #giant tiny #captive tiny #circus tiny #mouse like #handheld #g/t handheld

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melissabetancourt-drawing · 14 days

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Final Curated Portfolio Drawing 1300c

First Day Boxes

Gesture Drawing Week 2

Gesture Drawing Recent

Contour Drawing

Neg/Pos Assignment

Blind Contour Drawing

Composition Analysis

Cross Contour

Cross Hatching

Ink Drawing Assignment

Ink and Color (Paint) Assignment

Museum Assignment (one sketch)

Sketchbook Drawings

Midterm

"Unveiling Within"

Final

Painting based on Article 1 of The Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.

For my painting I chose to do a group of people protesting what belongs to them by right. The posters consist of on going issues that America is facing today. I excluded the faces on every person because normally when you distinguish someone it is always the color of their skin, not what their facial features look like.

Artist Statement

I really enjoyed the learning experience I had in this class. I learned many things, including how to let my eyes do the work and not my mind. I still have some more learning to do when it comes to that, but with time I am sure I will get there. I also loved the experience of being in an actual artistic setting. I was not used to having a class where I was standing for a long period of time with professional drawing easels.

After taking this class, my goal is to succeed in other art classes and use them as an opportunity to create a great portfolio for when I transfer to another school for my Bachelors degree. I expect to try new things and other ways to express myself through my art.

My favorite materials so far after taking this class are paint, graphite pencils and ink. For graphite pencils, I love how they are easy to blend and are easy to use when adding details. They also have different values, which makes it easier to determine which shades are perfect for specific sections in the drawing. When it comes to ink and paint, I like them because you can be free with it. It doesn't have to be perfect. For this instance you can let your mind work more than your eyes because you have free will to create whatever it is you want to include in the painting or drawing.

My favorite assignment has to the midterm where I drew a still life with a self portrait. It is my favorite because it let me see what I am capable of as an artist. I always thought that I was not good enough and can never draw something that complex and time consuming, but in the end I was able to and succeeded.

Some obstacles that I experienced in the class was letting my eyes speak for the drawing and not my mind. Like I said before, it is something I hope to learn more with time.

Going into the class I didn't think that I would be good enough, that for some assignments I wasn't going to do well. I overcame that mindset by telling myself that I was going to try hard and do my best to know what I am capable of when it comes to art. I first overcame that entirely when I drew my first detailed still life and then followed the midterm assignment.

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ambiebambie85 · 8 months

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Some Faye art 🥰 I have a bunch of art of Faye, she’s one of my favorites to draw! WARNING: MILD NUDITY! Descriptions of death and violence. So minors DNI!

This got long! I’ll need to post a part 2! I totally didn’t plan on telling her entire backstory 😅😂

Part 1: You're here! Part 2:

Thousands and thousands of years before OM! Events, Faye was a white witch living in a peasant village in, what is now The UK. Unsurprisingly, witchcraft was expressly forbidden. But, even so, Faye used her white magic to heal the sick and poor, but she had to do it in secret.

Of course, that secret didn’t stay hidden forever. Someone reported her magic use, and, she was burned at the stake for the entire village to see. Her execution caught the attention of a certain, famous angel who refused to let this stand.

That angel was Lucifer. He had know Faye. The two were close (another secret that had to be kept) and the love that bloomed between them couldn’t be denied. Even though Lucifer interfered with the execution, he was still too late to save Faye. There was nothing to be done, so he continued on with his life, never forgetting Faye.

After the Fall, when Lucifer and his brothers were turned to demons, Lucifer still thought of Faye and how he couldn’t save her. The guilt of that, on top of everything else he felt responsible for, ate at him. Perhaps an angel couldn’t save Faye…but could a demon do something? Whether or not he COULD do something, Lucifer could not fight off his desire to try, and, if a demon desires something, they have to do it.

After what felt like centuries, Lucifer discovered a way to revive Faye, using his new demonic abilities. He attempted his spell, and he succeeded, bringing Faye back…kind of… She was alive, and she knew who she was, and she remembered everything…but she was no longer able to use her white magic. With Lucifer’s demonic power reviving her, parts of her soul were darkened, and all she wanted was revenge…and she got it.

Even though centuries had passed, and the ones who put her to death were long dead, Faye still descended upon the village and burned it to the ground, leaving no survivors and essentially cursing the land the village had once been built on. Keep in mind, this is still many thousands of years before the game’s events, demons had free reign to come and go to the Human World as they pleased without having to obtain permission, so nobody stopped her. Not even Lucifer. In fact, he had actively joined her, his own being having been corrupted.

Faye remains in the Human World, her most basic whims easily attained with her newfound power. She continues to grow stronger, but, eventually, she notices herself aging as humans do. She doesn’t want this, but how do you stop the aging process? Well…Faye figured it out. Her offspring made perfect vessels for her to use to remain young and beautiful forever. How lucky for Faye that all her children with human men are female. She has many daughters over the centuries, and she raises them before, when she starts aging, she magically takes their bodies as her own, effectively killing them so her soul may settle into the body. When the soul settles, the body looks no different than Faye’s usual one in its prime.

#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #om! swd #om! nightbringer #om! oc #obey me lucifer #backstory #long post #fanart

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child-of-the-cataclysm · 11 months

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Chapter Six: Walls Like Mountains

I woke to the sound of low conversation, peppered with the kind of angry whisper that slowly spirals further and further away from an actual whisper and into full-on shouting. It was dark, to the point that I could barely tell that I had opened my eyes.

It took me a few moments to realise that the physical sensations of things were strange - not absent, but steady and unchanging in a way that such sensations rarely were. My mind was still groggy enough that the meaning of the difficulty I seemed to be having moving my limbs was difficult to parse at first. Only after I tried to sit up and knocked my head against hard wood did I realise what was happening - I was in some sort of closed-off wooden container.

I tried to stay calm, but couldn’t help but to panic a bit as I began to press against the wood, hands and knees slamming back and forth wildly. The sounds of conversation from outside faltered, and I went still, holding my breath and hoping that the box would be opened. The sound of something heavy being placed atop the box prompted further flailing from me, and I slammed my hands against the wood of the box again and again, tears beginning to drip from my eyes and back into my hairline. I hated the sensation of the tears trickling into my ears, but couldn’t reach up to brush them away.

Within the box, moments quickly seemed to stretch into hours into days into weeks into months into years - with nothing to track the time by, my panicked mind convinced me that I was in the box for so long that not even the obvious flaw of my continued survival despite no consumption of food or water knocked me out of it. My hands were quickly knocked bloody against the wood, and splinters found their way into parts of my body I hadn’t even thought of as possible for that to happen to.

When the light finally came, it hurt my eyes. Instinctively, I curled into myself as best I could, hands weakly going to shelter my eyes. A faint, sadistic laugh came from somewhere nearby, and I let my hands drop, forcing myself to adjust to the light, painful or not. Standing above me was Rahkor, a smirk on his face, with an array of purple-clad men and women standing in a loose circle around him, the box, and me.

There were trees overhead. We weren’t in the outpost anymore.

My brain whirled back into action as best as it could in my dehydrated, panicked state. If we weren’t in the outpost… Had the attack succeeded? Or was Rahkor taking the spoils of his victory somewhere else? Where was the rest of the Hand? Where was the fox?

I tried to push myself to my feet, but between the damage I had sustained in the battle at the outpost and the time in the box, I barely managed to sit up. Rahkor and the others shared a bout of cruel laughter, and I glared weakly up at them.

Rahkor gestured down at me, adopting a showman’s stance. “See its eyes, honoured ones? The rebels had a monster among them.” His smirk, crueller than ever, drove home his meaning, and my stomach sank. “How did they manage to get one of you to pretend at humanity for so long, little monster?” I settled down into myself, desperately reaching for the silver world and doing everything I could to avoid responding to the provocation until I could be sure that it would respond. Rahkor seemed to take that as shrinking from the question, and let slip another laugh, his voice becoming oddly shrill as he did.

“It seems the monster cannot even speak! Strange, that; it played at words when last I spoke to it.” A soft breeze stirred by his movement touched my skin, letting me know without sight that he had stooped down over me. His voice came again, soft and dark, a promise of violence which seeped into my mind no matter what I tried to keep it out. “You’re going to the capital, monster.”

What came was utter misery, in a way that I had never experienced before. Every few days, a period of time marked only by these events, Rahkor would bring me out of the box, parade me in front of pompous nobles from whatever tiny splintering town we were passing through, make a show of how he had captured a monster from the rebellion, give me a pittance of food and water, and place me back in the box. It was a cycle of torture that left me practically wasting away in a sense that I could physically feel, even when I didn’t have the light to see it.

Along the way, Rahkor’s showmanship and the reactions of the small town nobles told me that the rest of the Hand was alive and well - they had taken the outpost successfully and they had the Crown on edge and on guard. It kept me going, and without those crumbs, I think I may well have gone crazy. Or crazier, I suppose.

Though it seemed nearly impossible, I began to carve out a rhythm for myself. It was difficult to stay awake during my time in the box - everything seemed so unreal and unending that each second stretched into infinity, leaving me constantly exhausted even when attempting to stay awake. During the periods where I fought off sleep, though, I found myself tapping tiny songs into the wood of the box or onto the sides of my legs with my fingertips, keeping me grounded and my brain working.

Recollections of the tales my mother used to tell turned into ballads - operatic tellings of the stories which I saw in vivid hallucinations, my mind making up the images to distract itself from the darkness. I scored them to myself with tapped music which felt consistently more real than the darkness in which I was actually living. In the sparse moments out of the box I learned to fall deeper and deeper into an observational silence, parsing out as much information as I could from the chatter of the idiotic nobles and Rahkor’s pitches without giving them the satisfaction of a response. Rahkor would strike me every so often, frustrated by my refusal to give him so much as a yes or a no, but short of an animalistic growl, I never gave him what he wanted, and found myself proud of that fact.

Eventually, the nobles Rahkor paraded me in front of became less and less idiotic. Hayseed nobles, the kind of nobility whose position is due entirely to money or family ties, who are put out in the middle of nowhere because they couldn’t be trusted with any serious position gave way to sharp-eyed capital-bred nobility. These were a different breed, the kind of nobility whose family gave them expensive educations in every minute detail of how royalty should act and anything that one in our modern age could possibly know. My education was, technically, quite similar, but I thought of them as a different breed entirely. Not only had they had such an education for far longer than I, a lifetime of common folk bowing and scraping at their every word gave them a naturally disdainful air, causing them to look down at Rahkor with almost as much disgust as they did me.

It was almost cathartic to see how they despised my captor, especially as I found myself unable to slip into the silver world time and again, losing chance after chance to escape into the woods. I didn’t know why the silver world eluded me, and though my addled mind constructed the idea of the box I was kept in being made of a secret wood which somehow dampened my connection to the Cataclysm, I suspect now it was a simple matter of the fatigue and physical stress I was under.

The bits and pieces of chatter I picked up began to shift at much the same time as the nature of the nobles did. This close to the capital, the Hand weren’t just rebels or bandits. Instead, they were “a threat to national security” or “dissidents.” And the names of my friends were apparently known now, with tales of deeds performed by each attached to them. Each time I heard of Riota torching a squadron of Crown soldiers or Lek’s marksmanship taking the commander from their unit before the battle even began, I became less certain if they were genuine, but more and more proud of my family in the Hand.

Hushed whispers began to speak of Nileas as a beautiful, dead-eyed spectre - wild-haired and wreathed in the carnage of the battlefield. I marvelled at how the nobility this close to the capital seemed to think of him as some force of nature and took note of how they watched me with more and more caution as his legend seemed to grow. Where the other members of the Hand garnered stories, what was woven around him were myths - fundamentally exceptional tales which painted him as something more than human. Eventually, another element began to seep into the whispered tales - a lost child, perhaps Nileas’ own, for whom the Hand was carving a bloody swathe through our slice of the Shattered Kingdoms.

I kept the grin off my face as best I could when I heard these stories, but no amount of self-discipline could keep me from imagining what horrors Nileas and the Hand would wreak on these petty nobles, much less what they might do to Rahkor. I admit, I had more than a few fantasies about mounting Rahkor’s head on a pike. Perhaps I would display it on the wall of the Hand’s new outpost…

Other tales came too. These were ones they seemed prouder of, tales which spoke of heroes of the Crown who stood against the “horrible acts of the dissidents.” One in particular, Ysella Ponitri, stood out. Apparently, she was a Crown-sanctioned sorcerer and officer who had been at the outpost, and had stood against the Hand until the last. The stories of her talked about her promising education and how she had been placed at the outpost in the hopes of curbing some issues with authority, only for her to prove herself in the battle by standing firm against our own sorcerer. I winced at the thought of Riota having to face a Crown-trained sorcerer when she was so new to her own power, but I had faith in her. Besides, I already knew from the stories that she was still alive. I just hoped she hadn’t been hurt too badly.

I began to half-believe, with the stories and their tone, that Nileas and the Hand would find their way to me, would save me before Rahkor’s parading journey through our slice of the Shattered Kingdoms could reach the capital.

And then I saw the walls.

The capital was constructed in the wake of the Cataclysm at the centre of the Shattered Kingdoms. These lands had been torn apart by the disastrous event more than any other, to the point that thin slices of them had been left splintered - shifted up, down and apart, with deep ravines and massive mountain ranges separating one thin slice of the Kingdoms from the others. Our own Shining Cliffs were one of those borders, and while I knew the cliffs quite well, I could not imagine what might lay on the other side.

Few people travelled from one portion of the Shattered Kingdoms to the other. With the advent of the Crown, it had become regulated and near-impossible for the average person. The few traversable areas between the slices were heavily monitored by official Crown soldiers, allowing only nobility and merchants to cross, and even then only with official permits describing their business. The one area where each of the slices could be travelled between with ease was where they had built the capital, giving them the power to fully monitor any attempt at travel between the portions of the Shattered Kingdoms.

The capital was a monstrous thing. Its walls loomed like mountains on the horizon, near-incomprehensible in their scale. Even from this distance one could tell that they were almost impossibly large. The odd white-grey stone used in buildings made in the long-forgotten past was threaded with thick metal rods and erected into the main body of the walls. Simpler wooden and stone structures dangled on the face of them. Some were visible even from here in their massive scale, while others appeared little more than specks. Above the stone and metal of the walls’ main body was another wall. This one was smaller, made of wood and brick, and though one could make it out from here, its profile was significantly smaller.

From my studies I knew that most of the structures which hung onto the face of the walls were thought of as inconsequential. Watchposts, barracks, slum housing, and the occasional hanging farm were all they were, but from here, with their size and number apparent, they were imposing. Within the section of the wall made of brick and wood were supposedly armouries and jail cells, although the idea that someone could build such a thing inside a wall had always seemed incorrect to me. Regardless, the thought of what must lay within the walls for the structures hanging off it to be considered small and pointless left me shocked and confused.

If this was what the Crown was, how could the Hand, my precious family, hope to stand against it? How could they possibly save me? I did my best to disguise my suddenly hopeless feeling, keeping my face as close to an emotionless mask as I could, but Rahkor still picked it out. He revelled in it, his wicked intelligence brought to bear on the task of seeding false stories telling of the defeat of Nileas and the Hand into the rumours I heard. It took me what could have been anywhere from days to weeks to work out what he was doing and learn to pick out the real from the false, but even with the knowledge that the Hand was still fighting, I could not revive my hopefulness.

The time between my first glimpse of the Capital was simultaneously infinitesimally small and completely, utterly endless. Each time I came out of the box, those impossible walls loomed closer and closer, but even with traceable progress the time in the darkness left me totally incapable of doing the necessary figuring to determine how long it had been. Once, I saw a fox in the woods. I was briefly convinced that it was my fox, the Hand’s fox, but it couldn’t have been. Frankly, I hoped that it wasn’t, and that my little silver friend was safe with the Hand.

I was let out again in the direct shadow of the Capital. I was in a small village, which seemed to be a farming village or something of the like - although I didn’t see much of it, and it could well have simply had a farm in one portion of it. The nobles here were sharper still, their gazes hawk-like and shrewd, picking me apart in a fashion that caused me to instinctively cover myself, curling into a ball lest these… creatures descend like vultures.

Overhead, the walls loomed massively, impossibly large. They no longer seemed like mountains, this close. They seemed more like a barrier on the face of existence, insurmountable and unending. The hanging buildings on their side seemed to be almost impossibly far overhead given how close we were to the walls they hung from. I have no doubt that the time I had spent inside the box - a tiny enclosure that seemed the polar opposite of the walls themselves - coloured my perception of the walls, but it did not help to know that.

I found myself unable to look away from the walls until a sharp slap from Rahkor spun me into the ground. Weakly, I pushed myself back up, and looked at him, teeth bared in a snarl. The nobles around him were all arched eyebrows and postured disgust. I hated them all.

Rahkor laughed at my snarling, and began to tell the ‘grand story’ of how he had captured me. In his version of events, he personally threw me out a window in order to save the watch captain from “the vicious beast’s assassination attempt.” Fortunately, it seemed that the nobles here wouldn’t quite have believed him even if I hadn’t given a contemptuous snort at his self-aggrandizing nonsense. I couldn’t help but feel a little glad to see how little respect he got here, although in a distant way I suppose that made me an even lesser creature. It mattered little.

When next I was let out of the box, I was in an ornate room. Windows covered nearly the entirety of one wall, with gold-framed pictures of hawk-like nobles in bizarre, over-wrought clothing and armour on the wall opposite. Lush furniture lined the other two walls, with cushions so thick I fully believed for a moment that I must have seen them wrong somehow. I was on an elevated wooden platform beneath the portraits, with a set of chairs arrayed in front of the platform. The chairs were occupied by bored-looking folk of all sorts, though most were dressed in slim black clothing bearing the mark of the Crown.

Their bored looks faded quickly as I left the box. A few disgusted murmurs came, but one of the women near the front was leaning in, an inquisitive look on her face. Once she saw my eyes, she sat back, a faint grin replacing it. It made me uneasy, that grin. Like my own, there was a point to her teeth that gave her a feral, predatory look. It was never the sort of look one wanted directed at themselves.

Eventually, a rotund man in a garish little outfit, all purples and reds and golds, with long cloth tails at the back of his vest and a ridiculously large hat, stepped in front of me and cleared his throat. I stared at his back, confused, my hands clenching and unclenching reflexively. I strongly considered attacking him, but my instincts told me there were far too many people here for me to fight - especially malnourished, dehydrated, and unable to slip into the silver world.

Instead, as he began to speak, describing me first as a Child of the Cataclysm and second as the lost member of the Silver Hand, I backed up towards the wall, instinctively falling into something approaching a crouch. The man gestured back towards me laughingly and described me a third time as a beast, untamed and untameable.

I didn’t understand at all what was happening until the woman at the front of the crowd raised a hand and the man shouted out a number. I was being auctioned off.

#CotC

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childofthecataclysm · 2 years

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Chapter Six: Walls Like Mountains

There were trees overhead. We weren’t in the outpost anymore.

And then I saw the walls.

I didn’t understand at all what was happening until the woman at the front of the crowd raised a hand and the man shouted out a number. I was being auctioned off.

#CotC #Child of the Cataclysm

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nicholasnelsons · 2 years

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all i keep thinking about is eddie begins and how we’ve seen firsthand how eddie and shannon didn’t communicate— not to mention that eddie was scared to be a father. he’s never been one to get emotional in front of people as we’ve only seen him cry a few times—the most major time being alone— and always pushes his emotions away or finds an outlet to let them escape (S3 fighting arc).

so for eddie to break down and let those emotions out instead of bottling them in? it’s such a huge step for him, but he’s not doing it alone. he has buck with him through it all. honestly i thought the will was going to be the biggest sign of how much trust they put in each other, but eddie allowing buck to see him in his most vulnerable state truly says more than i can even comprehend. to talk about things with buck? talk about his feelings? just cry? he’s never done this with another human being before in his life because he’s never trusted someone the way he trusts buck. it’s that simple.

a lot of eddie’s emotions are going to deal with wanting to do what’s best for christopher and making sure that chris is okay, but he’s going to talk about that with buck. he’s going to talk about how scared he is to be a dad right now, which is something he didn’t communicate when chris was born. he’s going to talk about how he feels like he failed chris, and buck is going to give him a million reasons why he succeeded. he’s going to talk about the will and why he chose buck, and buck is going to tell him that they’re going to get through this together.

and then you have buck, who has always tried to be the hero in his own way. he just so badly wants to fix things for people when it’s not his to fix. abby losing her mom, maddie and doug, maddie leaving, taylor’s dad, chim leaving, eddie getting shot, etc etc. and when he doesn’t try to fix things, he runs head first into danger to prevent them. eddie told buck that he’s not expendable, but when eddie is on the ground sobbing and in need of comfort, buck is really going to see how much eddie needs him there. not to fix something or to help once and never again, but to be this partner that stands by eddie through all the tough times. for better or for worse if you will. when eddie thinks of going through life with someone, he thinks of buck next to him. and when buck thinks of going through life with someone, he thinks of a person he can come home to every night that will always have his back. he thinks of eddie.

never in all my years of media consumption have i watched two people have a relationship that is as close and genuine as this one, probably because they didn’t find it. they made it. i truly don’t know where i was going with this, but 5B really seems like it’s going to be eddie begins again. where buck and eddie are starting over together <3333

#trying to form a singular thought in all of this feels like i’m being held hostage by mark pellegrino as he yells ‘SORT OUT YOUR EMOTIONS’#im a mess #911 fox #911 spoilers

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moemammon · 3 years

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"I didn't mean it MC, I swear!" (Feat. Levi and GN!MC)

(Continuation of this!)

Levi

Leviathan knew very few people who could match his passion about the things he was interested in, and even then, they weren't as diehard as he was. Whether they met in online forums, game lobby matchups, before concerts, or at comicons, there was NO ONE Levi could say really understood him.

And you? You were no exception. It annoyed him to no end when he found out you were trying to learn more about the things he liked. He didn't know what you were planning, but he wanted no part in it. Levi knew you were nothing but a notice through and through, and a little studying on TSL wouldn't change that! You were a fake fan, and he’d never acknowledge you!

Or... that was the plan, at least. Somehow, you... annoying, normie, irritatingly human YOU... managed to get under his skin. At first it was subtle, in that annoying way you managed to "beat" him in that TSL quiz you initiated. Then it was the way you continued to try to learn about him and get him to open up, despite already forming your pact. If it wasn't the pact you were after, then what did you want?

There was no way you'd hang out with Levi because you WANTED to. "Why are you always coming into my room? Just because you know the password... that doesn't give you the right!" He couldn't believe anyone would choose to spend time with him so often without ulterior motives, and yet... you were doing just that. Sharing his hobbies with genuine interest, proclaiming yourself to be his friend...

But he wasn't used to this kind of attention! It was too much for his otaku brain to handle! So Levi had the tendency to put up his walls at random, and that often meant defaulting to calling you names as if he wanted to push you away. You were always "Stupid normie", "dumb human" "fake fan", and variations thereof.

Little did he know, he was sort of succeeding in pushing you away, because you were actually sensitive to his stupid insults. He notices when you asked to come to his room to play a game, and he questioned whether a "normie like you can even handle a game like this." You remained silent, choosing to quietly get up and leave without another word.

And boy did Levi fuckin panic. He knew he was being a dick, and as much as part of him wanted you to leave him alone, another, larger part couldn't stand the thought of having no one to enjoy things with. He didn't want that! All this time he thought he was better off alone, and yet when he was with you, he could ACTUALLY let loose! He couldn't even remember the last time he genuinely enjoyed another person's company to the fullest. And now he was pushing you away??

Levi frets for a LONG time after you leave. He debates texting you, calling you, sending you a dozen game invites.... He's never had to deal with something like this! Why did real life have to be so hard?! But... he read enough romance manga to know that love-... or, really strong feelings, was a complex thing. He didn't get it, but that didn't mean he wanted to risk losing you. So he settled for sneaking down the hall to your room, making sure he wasn't spotted as to avoid the "look who came out of their cave" jokes his brothers were bound to make.

He sheepishly knocks at your door, waiting for a long while before taking the initiative to enter. He finds you cursed up in bed looking a second away from crying, and the guilt immediately punches him in the gut. Levi scrambles over to you and grabs your hands before he can react to the embarrassing gesture. "YOU'RE MY HENRY-!" Levi yells out randomly, and a little too loudly. His face is beet red and he's clearly nervous, but the demon tightens his grip.

"You're... you're my Henry, so... that means you're important to me! I'm no good with irl friendships, or.. or talking about feelings and stuff, but I want you to know that you're special! I want to watch anime with you! I want to go to concerts with you! I want to talk about TSL with you!" Levi withdraws his hands, barely able to look you in the eye. "....Sorry for what I said earlier. I really don't wanna lose you. Do you want to come back..? We can play that game, and I'll let you be player one this time!"

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nordicpoppie · 3 years

Text

BTS Reaction their hybrid gets angry / pouty

Been busy the last few days but had this finished in my drive :)

If you have ideas or critisism for the reactions / scenarios feel free to let me know!

Y/F/P = Your Favourite Place

Y/F/S = Your Favorite Snack

Jin

Jin had just returned home from a long night out with some of his work colleagues. When he’d opened the door you’d been nowhere to find despite always being there to greet him. As he walked around the house he wondered why it was so quiet, even if you didn’t come to greet him he’d still expect you to be on the couch or the bedroom.

As he walked around the house he suddenly noticed the tip of a tail poking out from behind the couch. Walking around it he saw you with your back turned to him clutching something in your arms.

Jins heart immediately leapt to his throat, the worst thoughts entering his head, what if you were hurt or worse ill and he’d just spend the last 5 hours being out and having fun while you were at home in pain.

He quickly grabbed your shoulders and turned you around, only to find your face not full of tears as he expected but a small pout decorating it instead. In your arms you clutched a pillow, more specifically his pillow.

Jin looked at your face while you in turn avoided eye contact, “It’s late” you mumbled while your pout grew in size. Jins eyes went wide as he turned to stare at the clock, it was late, he hadn’t even realized how late it was. He knew you had a hard time sleeping by yourself, so he always let you sleep with him, but he hadn’t counted on you getting this pouty over him not being there.

Grabbing your hands he dragged you to your feet despite your protests and led you to the bedroom. Seating you on the bed he started putting on his nightclothes before yet again grabbing your hands, pushing you into bed so you could cuddle.

“Sorry, I didn't realize how late it had gotten.” Jin whispered into your hair while you were at the edge of falling asleep.

Namjoon

Hearing a giant bang followed by a whispered curse you jumped up from your seat on the couch. Namjoon and you had been watching a movie together before he told you he’d grab some cocoa and popcorn for the both of you. Hearing the bang your heart rate immediately spiked.

Rushing to the kitchen you stopped with a small gasp at the threshold, watching in horror as Namjoon tried to discreetly swipe the pieces of glass together. Being worried you stepped closer, about to stop his hands from moving, but then you caught sight of one piece of glass. It had the same motive as your favourite cup.

Another gasp left your mouth and Namjoon knew you’d get angry and sad. Turning to look at your face he saw the hurt and anger swirling in your eyes. Huffing you turned and walked out of the kitchen, seconds later he heard a door slam.

Namjoon knew you weren’t actually that angry, it was just a moment's spurt that made you act like a brat. Sweeping the last bits of glass up, he dumped them in the trash and went to the bedroom. He knocked the door before opening it slowly and peeking in.

You were lying on the bed with a small pout on your face, when Namjoon entered you turned to look at him. Immediately your expression changed to that of sadness, not knowing why Namjoon rushed to your side.

Grabbing onto him tightly you mumbled into his shoulder “I’m sorry for getting mad at you”. Namjoon sighed, he knew you felt guilty, even if you knew he didn’t take the small anger spurt seriously. “Don’t worry, i’ll buy you as many cups as you want, as long as you don’t get seriously angry the next time i accidentally break one” he said laughing together with you.

Yoongi

Taking his headphones off after several hours of working on mixing and editing music Yoongi sighed and stretched his back. He turned to look at the clock realizing how late it had gotten. He was sure he had forgotten something but he wasn’t yet sure what it was.

Getting up he walked to the kitchen to grab some food, on the way however he noticed the dining table had been decorated and plates and glasses were standing ready. Cursing out loud Yoongi turned around to look for you, hoping you’d still be awake with how late it had gotten.

He found you in the bedroom, talking with Jimin on the phone, tears in your eyes. When you noticed Yoongi had entered you quickly hung up and wiped any escapen tears, letting a big pout overtake your features. You turned from him, walked to your side of the bed and laid down with you back facing him.

Yoongi knew it was bad, he had promised to have dinner with you but had forgotten. Putting on his own nightclothes he hopped into bed with you, trying to grab you though you resisted before finally settling.

Yoongi grumbled in his head, how would he make it up to you, he couldn’t stand you being angry at him and especially not if it was combined with tears. Leaning over he asked you, “Are you free tomorrow?”, wondering what he wanted you simply shrugged.

“I’ll make it up to you tomorrow then, we’ll go out and get some nice dinner after going on a date, whichever place you pick”. Taking the bait you turned your face lit up “Even Y/F/P?” to which Yoongi nodded happily, he's succeeded in making up with you.

The day after you were all smiles and excited, no one would have thought you’d be capable of being angry, that was everyone but Yoongi.

Hoseok

It was a completely normal day, you were sitting watching tv with no special interest in whatever was being said. That was until they suddenly mentioned Hoseok and the other guys. Grabbing the remote you turned up the sound listening more intently now that it was about Hoseok.

Hoeseok left the room to go grab some sandwiches for the both of you, while you continued watching the tv. Much to Hoseok's surprise when he returned the couch was empty, though the news was still one.

As he turned to turn the tv off, he saw himself on the screen, talking with another hybrid. Something he knew set you off as hybrids of your species easily got affected by small changes.

Turning the tv off he went to find you, not surprised to find you sitting in his room with his pillow in your arms, nose buried in it. When he entered you fixated a small glare at him showing your clear distaste.

Hoseok went towards you, grabbed a blanket and threw it around you, he then took the pillow and threw it on the bed. You started to complain a bit as you were covered in the blanket and lost the pillow, however Hoseok shushed you as he pulled you into a hug.

Leaning against him while he hugged you tightly he whispered “you know i only did it for the views and because the company wants me to do it right?”. Nodding you tucked your head further into his shoulder.

A few minutes later Hoseok was lying on the bed with you tucked into his arms making sure your scent was all over him.

Jimin

Walking through the door with angry steps you slammed it after you, quickly throwing off your shoes. Jimin was in the living room watching the news when you came in and he was shocked at the way you entered the apartment.

Not knowing what had happened or why you were upset he went to follow you, but not before he saw the news switch to an article about him. Or rather an article about him and a co-star who had been out shopping together.

As Jimin stood watching the TV he knew that was probably the reason you'd gotten upset. You were already plenty insecure being a hybrid together with a human, but having that same human walking around with what you considered a more beautiful person didn't help.

When he went to the bedroom he couldn't hear anything from inside. Lightly pushing the door open he saw you laying face down on the bed, not moving when he entered the room fully.

He went over and sat beside you on the bed, quietly stroking your hair and back. You were angry and upset but you weren't going to avoid his skin ship, it always felt nice no matter what.

Suddenly you felt the bed sink more, as he leaned more weight on it. Moving to get up to see what he was doing you were surprised to see Jimin with a small package in his hands.

Noticing your state he handed it over to you, telling you it was a gift he purchased with the help of his co-star. Quickly grabbing it and opening it you saw your favourite accessory inside. Jumping up you quickly hugged him tightly.

Jimin knew you'd forgive him easily, you always did.

Taehyung

You and Taehyung had been out at his company to celebrate the 50th anniversary since its opening. It had been a nice pleasant evening, except for one event.

While you had gone to the bathroom to relieve yourself, a person from his workplace had taken their chance to get close to him. So when you returned you not only saw Taehyung with another person, it looked like they were flirting with him too.

Already getting upset both because of the flirting but also because of Taehyung's lack of movement to stop it. You walked over to prevent any more flirting from happening.

As you got closer you heard the person lowly insult you, claiming a hybrid should never be with a human. Immediately that lit a fuse within you, walking over you grabbed Taehyung's arm.

Snarling at the other person you proceeded to drag him out of the venue and towards the parking lot. Taehyung could not only hear but also see how angry and upset you were.

When you reached the car he stopped you and pulled you into a hug, nuzzling your hair. Mumbling a small sorry together with some praises he pulled back and helped you into the car.

As the venue got smaller in the rearview mirror you relaxed more and more.

Jungkook

Slamming the refrigerator shut you huffed quietly, quickly opening the cupboards and searching through them. Not finding what you were searching for, you opted to go ask Jungkook.

As you got closer to his room you heard him shouting along with Taehyung. Probably playing some games on their computers you thought as you pushed the door open.

At first the boys didn't realize you were standing there, until you cleared your throat. Taehyung acknowledged you with a small nod while Jungkook turned his head to look at you questioningly.

Just as you opened your mouth to ask if he knew where Y/F/S was, you noticed it sitting at the table between the boys. Jungkook noticed the way you stared at the snack and immediately realized what he'd done.

Quickly getting up he rushed after you as you angrily left the room, going to the entryway. Glancing through the window you noticed it was raining heavily, but you had really been craving the snack so you'd have to make due with some water.

Jungkook however thought the opposite, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back from tying your shoes. Just as you were about to tell him to let you go, he presented a brand new packet of Y/F/S.

Looking first at the snack then at him you reached out to grab it. "You didn't think I'd just eat your snack without getting you a new one right?" Jungkook asked you while you smiled guiltily, making Jungkook chuckle.

Later you joined the boys while they were gaming, happily eating the snack.

#bts reaction #BTS jimin #BTS jin #BTS jungkook #bts #bts yoongi #bts namjoon #bts hoseok #bts taehyung #kpop scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #bts hybrid fic #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid

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