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yelena-bellova · 3 years

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Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty: Party on Pasaana

Plot: Poe, Y/n, Finn, Rey and the rest of the gang journey to Pasaana to try and find the Wayfinder.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: none really

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: I’M BACK! This is by no means my best or favorite chapter but it moves the story along and boy, is there a lot coming...Hopefully you’ve stuck around this long and if not, I’m not offended. Hope you enjoy!

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Despite the fact that I’d spent my day fixing the Falcon, me and Chewie still ran every diagnostic possible on it before even thinking about taking her up. She was too temperamental to be treated any differently.

“You know I love flying with you, but don’t feel like you’re obligated to come with, Chew,” I said, closing up the last panel on the underside of the ship, “This one isn’t going to be a simple supply run.”

Chewie groaned in protest at my offer to let him stay on base, reminding me of the promise he’d made to Dad. That he’d protect me and he didn’t intend to stop doing that anytime soon.

I conceded to the Wookiee and emerged from underneath the Falcon. I found Rey finishing her repairs as Poe stood nearby, patting her on the arm, “We’re going with you. Chewie, you get that compressor fixed?” “No, I did,” I answered, dusting off my hands on my pants. The two of us still hadn’t spoken since our fight earlier in the day. “What do you mean you’re coming with us?” Poe separated from Rey, revealing Finn and the droids behind him, and led me to the side of the Falcon. He kept space between us, probably because he didn’t know where we stood after our fight.

“Do you honestly think we’d let you guys take this on by yourselves?” he asked.

“Poe,” I shook my head, “Rey and I don’t even know what we’re walking into, I don’t want to throw you guys in the line of danger.” “So it’s too dangerous for me to risk my life but not you?” he asked with raised brows, wedging me between a metaphorical rock and a hard place, “Y/n, we’re a team. If one of us goes, we all go.” I hung my head in frustration, these were the type of situations that I hated the most. I couldn’t protect everyone, that had been made clear, and I certainly couldn’t justify to Poe why it was okay for me to charge headfirst into a fight but not him. Though I’d try every time, even if it was bound to end in failure.

“Fine,” I relented, shrugging and letting my hands fall against my legs, “But I’m flying us there.”

“Understood,” Poe agreed, pulling a corner of his lip up in an almost smile, “I am sorry about today, y’know…It was stupid of me not to think about how much the Falcon means to you.” “Me too,” I sighed, remembering all the harsh words we had flung at one another in contrast to the white flags me were now waving. This wasn’t the first makeup we’d had lately. Not by a long shot. Poe and I had been fighting more than usual, tensions were high with all that was going on and our relationship wasn’t escaping un-scorched. There was never any doubt as to whether or not we still loved each other, but we needed to find better ways of dealing with our stress rather than taking it out on each other. “Chewie told me there was only one escape route and you took it. You guys coming back alive is more important than anything else.”

Where there should have been a kiss or intertwined fingers, there was only silence and our best attempts to smile. There was so much lying underneath the surface that we didn’t ever have time to deal with.

“I wish you’d tell me.” I tried my hardest not to look phased, “Tell you what?” Poe swallowed as he stared into my eyes, “Whatever it is you’re keeping from me.” Every hair on my body stood to attention and fear shot through my veins. I knew he’d become suspicious of me but we hadn’t addressed it out loud before. Once the words of distrust hit the air, it became a true issue. The bottom line of it all was if Poe knew I had been in contact with Ren, he would never trust me with anything ever again.

My tongue peeked out to wet my lips as I nervously shifted my weight to my other foot, “I need you to trust me that what I’m doing, I’m doing for the good of the Resistance.” “We don’t keep secrets from each other, Y/n,” he shook his head and placed his hands on his hips, “That’s not us.” “You wouldn’t understand it, it’s Jedi stuff.” He bit his lip and nodded sarcastically, “Oh, so because I’m not a Jedi, my little average brain couldn’t possibly understand whatever problem you’ve got? Thanks for clearing that up.” “Poe,” I took a step and reached out to grab his forearm, “I didn’t mean it like that. Just please trust me. Everything I do, I do it to keep us safe.” I watched the emotions flicker in his eyes, changing from confusion to anger to desperation to hurt. The thought of confessing to him came through my mind at least ten times a day, but it wasn’t possible. Selfishly, I didn’t want to watch him learn of my betrayal. He would never look at me the same way and I wasn’t ready to lose that.

“I trust you more than anyone,” he finally said, stiffening his voice to hide his emotions, “I just wish you felt the same way about me.” He shrugged out of my hand’s hold and made his way up the ship’s ramp. I chewed on my bottom lip and leaned my forehead against one of the Falcon’s legs. There was nobody on any planet in any galaxy who I trusted more than Poe. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me and the fact that he was beginning to doubt my trust in him was a sucker punch. This time he wasn’t at fault, he only wanted to help me shoulder the burden. But there was nothing he could do to aid in the mental torture I was inflicting on myself.

I turned on my heels to go find my mother but froze at the sight of her and Rey locked in an embrace. I could sense the sadness in Rey that came with leaving her, the only mother figure she could remember having. Watching as she turned away, clipping Uncle Luke’s lightsaber to her belt, I took my cue to say my farewell.

“We’ll check in when we can, if we can,” I stated, partially as a commander but also a daughter to her worried mom, “Who knows, maybe we’ll be back in time for dinner.” A lame attempt at humor, yes, but there was nothing I wouldn’t do to try and make her smile in the most concerning of hours. “Look out for each other, don’t take too many risks,” she instructed, taking my hand in hers, “And come back in one piece.” There was some feeling in the air that I couldn’t put a name to, but it was there nonetheless. I never liked leaving Mom but with the stakes as high as they were, I felt a new sense of dread. I wasn’t immune to fear of losing my life and the reality of something happening to me and leaving her on her own caused a new urgency inside me to come back alive.

“I love you,” I whispered, squeezing her hands tight as tears began to fill my eyes, “So much.” “My darling,” I could hear the emotion in her voice that she was pushing down, “You are the greatest love I could have ever asked for.”

There wasn’t much more that could be said as I bent down to hug her, there was so much meaning inside our few words. We’d survived for a year as a family of two, something we were never meant to do, but we’d somehow done it. Mom’s health had begun to worsen with her age, but the incident on the Raddus had forced what was natural to happen prematurely. She got tired quicker, she required a cane sometimes and needed my help more often, though she always tried to avoid asking. I didn’t think it possible but we’d somehow grown closer in the last year, which made it all the more important that the mission go right and I return safely.

She whispered against my ear, “May the force be with you.” I pulled back with a watery smile, “We’re gonna need it.” With a kiss to her cheek, I forced myself to head back to the ship with a deep pain in my chest. It felt like I was tied to both the Falcon and Mom, the more distance I put between her and I, the more I began to hurt. It lit yet another flame of determination inside me to come back victorious.

Rey had waited for me outside the Falcon, attempting to act like she hadn’t witnessed the tender moment. The two of us shared a hopeful smile before we walked up the ramp together. When we arrived in the cockpit, it was apparent that it was going to be a tight fit. Rey moved to take the empty co-pilot’s chair with Chewie standing in the back, waiting to be called to action. Poe and I didn’t bother to make eye contact choosing instead to bury our pain for a later date. I gave Finn a good natured slap on the shoulder before sinking into the captain’s chair. I’d flown the Falcon hundreds of times by now and yet each time I took the controls, I felt like a child way out of their depth. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, there was no time to waste on fear. All that mattered was the mission.

“Next stop,” I narrated as I readied myself to lift the ship off the ground, “Pasaana…” ————

“You sure this is it?” Poe asked from the front of our group.

“I followed the coordinates perfectly,” I panted, already missing the jungle heat as opposed to Pasaana’s dry kind, “Right, 3PO?”

“Mistress Y/n is correct, these are the exact coordinates that Master Luke left behind.” We rounded the bend of the hill we’d climbed to find the least likely scenario on a planet we’d thought remote; a party.

“What is this?”

“The Aki-Aki Festival of the Ancestors,” 3PO explained, “This celebration occurs only once every 42 years.” “Well, that’s lucky,” Finn commented from beside me.

“Lucky indeed, this festival is known for both its colorful kites and its delectable sweets.” Under normal circumstances, I have had all the patience in the world with the droid I’d spent my whole life around. But now, overlooking the obstacle that would make it harder to find the Wayfinder and ultimately save the galaxy, I joined my friends in staring him down. “3PO, read the room.” “Let’s get down there,” Poe directed with a thumb tucked into his holster, “This is gonna take way longer than it should.” Having spent the better part of my life traveling, I loved getting to immerse myself in different planet’s cultures. It was one of the reasons my diplomatic skills were so highly tuned, I knew how to connect with all different types of people. So there was a small part of me, though stressed, that made a note to take in the sounds of the Aki-Aki’s chants and the array of colors in the crowd. I wasn’t the only one interested in the details either…

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” a wide eyed Rey commented as Finn and Poe passed us by.

“I’ve never seen so few Wayfinders,” Finn retorted.

“Take in what you can, we won’t be back for another 42 years,” I bumped Rey with my hip before following our group.

“There’s always random First Order patrols in crowds like these, so, keep your heads down,” Poe turned to look back at us, zeroing in on the only one tall enough to stick out, “Chewie. Let’s split up, see what the locals know.”

Rey was too taken by her surroundings to fully register what Poe was saying and Finn had gone with my boyfriend, leaving me to follow along with them. As soon as I did, Poe turned to me, “What are you doing?” “…Coming with you?” “We’ve gotta cover as much ground as possible,” he gestured over towards a grouping of tents, “Try talking to some of the traders, see if they know anything.” Thinning my eyes at him in shock that we were on a mission and Poe didn’t want me with him, I decided that now wasn’t the time to fight back. “Fine, Bee,” I called to my boyfriend’s droid hovering near Rey, “You’re with me.” The two of us made our way through a couple vendor’s booths, unsuccessful in getting any information about the location of the Wayfinder. I didn’t even have to do much talking with them, my senses could tell me whether or not my question brought up any memories. Which was good for me because I wasn’t in the mood to do a lot of chit chatting. Bee must have picked up on my silent frustration because he nudged me in my calf, urging me to talk. “He could have said it about ten other ways,” I vented, “But instead he had to make it sound like I was doing something wrong by going with them.” You know how he can be when he’s stressed. “I’m stressed too,” I cried, gesturing to my chest, “And maybe I wanted to go with him because I feel a little less worried when I’m with him. It’s never mattered what’s going on, we’ve always partnered together on missions. Clearly he doesn’t need me this time.” Didn’t you two have a fight before we left? Do you think it has something to do with that? I sighed defeatedly, “Probably…Or the fight we had earlier today, or the one we had just before he left a few days ago…” There was no shortage of examples I could have given as to why Poe didn’t want to be around me. “Things aren’t great between us right now.”

Maybe you should talk to him about it.

“Not right now, Bee. There’s bigger things at hand then Poe and I fighting. Nobody here knows anything, let’s go find the others.” When we made it back, Finn and Poe were engrossed in a conversation with an Aki-Aki. He turned his focus to me, “Got anything?” “I’d probably be a little more enthusiastic if I did, Dameron,” I remarked, taking a spot across from him instead of next to.

He looked between me and Finn, who was trying to remain focused on the Aki-Aki in question, “Whoa, what’s going on?”

The saddest part of why I was angry was the heart of the matter, Poe and I weren’t functioning like the inseparable couple we’d been for the last year. We were functioning like soldiers, ones who bickered at any chance we were given. And while I wanted nothing more than to talk to him about how I felt and ask him when things had gotten like this, not even love could come before war. I looked up at him, the frustration and hurt clearly painted clearly across my face, “Nothing that matters right now, I’m gonna go question some others but don’t worry, I’ll do it by myself.”

Just as Poe was opening his mouth to reply and I was ready to turn away, Rey came running in our direction. “We have to go. Back to the Falcon, now,” she ordered.

“Why?” Finn asked. “It’s Ren.”

Despite the anxiety running through my veins, I took a contradictory step forward. “He’s here?”

“He’s on his way,” Rey answered, her eyes wide and locked with mine.

“Then let’s get the hell out of here,” Poe began tracing our path back to the Falcon with his eyes, “It’s back this way.”

We ran through the festival with our heads on a swivel, until Poe shot his arm out as a barrier when we came face to face with a stormtrooper. “Freeze! Hold it right there. I’ve located the Resistance fugitives, all units report-“ A dart whizzed past us and landed perfectly in the trooper’s eye. We turned to see a figure holding a crossbow standing behind one of the tents, dressed in robes and his face covered with a helmet. “Follow me.”

With no other options in sight, we trusted in our mysterious savior and followed him. We climbed into his vehicle slowly rolling through the festival. “Leia sent me a transmission,” his modulated voice said before speaking in an alien language to the driver. “Okay, how’d you find us?” Finn asked what we were all thinking. The man reached to take his helmet off and I was greeted by a face I hadn’t seen in years. He grinned, “Wookiees stand out in a crowd.” “Lando!”

Chewie moaned his excitement at seeing his old friend and shoved his way past us all to hug him. “It’s good to see you too, old buddy,” he laughed before turning to me, “Look at you, the princess is all grown up.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and breathed for the first time all day, “I can’t believe you’re here.” “This is General Lando Calrissian,” 3PO said from behind us.

“We know who he is, 3PO,” Rey gently admonished.

“It is an honor, General,” Finn said, a big smile gracing his face. “General Calrissian,” Poe spoke up, “We’re looking for Exegol.”

Lando looked between our crew before centering on me, “Of course she’d send you.” I scrunched up my nose and tilted my head, “I didn’t give her much of a choice.” He shook his head with laughter, “You’re her daughter alright…” he flicked his wristlet on and a holo of a Wayfinder appeared, “Only two were made.” “A Sith Wayfinder,” Rey said, “Luke Skywalker came here to find one.” “I know,” Lando chuckled, “I was with him, Luke and I were tailing an old Jedi hunter,” he changed the image on his holo to a creature, “Ochi of Bestoon. He was carrying a clue that could lead to a Wayfinder. We followed his ship halfway across the galaxy here. When we got to his ship, it was abandoned. No clue, no Wayfinder.” “Is the ship still here?” I asked.

“It’s out in the desert where he left it.” “We need to get there, search it again,” Rey suggested.

My posture straightened as the sound of ship engines filled my ears. I peered out a window to see a small bunch of First Order ships flying towards the festival grounds.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Lando muttered before turning to us, “Ochi’s ship is out past Lurch Canyon. Go!” “Thank you, General,” Poe said before beginning to help each of us out of the crawler.

Chewie moaned his happiness at seeing Lando again, something he reciprocated. Before taking Poe’s extended hand, I quickly embraced my non-biological uncle. “We’re on Ajan Kloss, come join us. We need pilots.” “My flying days are long gone,” he gently declined before taking my hands into his, “But do me a favor, give your mother my love.”

“I will, as long as you consider coming,” I said before kissing his cheek and allowing Poe to help me out. My heart ached to walk away from another member of my family…

“Can’t believe I never put it together that you’re a princess.” Poe said from beside me as we sprinted through the desert. I was hoping no one had noticed Lando’s long standing nickname for me.

“Of a planet that ceased to exist long before I was born,” I panted, “I don’t think that counts for much.” “Doesn’t matter, I’m still going to call you Your Highness,” Finn called from ahead. “There,” Poe pointed, “Those speeders,” he tossed his gloves off, slid beneath the vehicles and began hot-wiring the vehicles. The yelling of a group of Aki-Aki, presumably the owners of the speeders, made him hurry through his work. “We gotta go!”

Finn, Poe and 3PO hopped into one while Rey, Bee, Chewie and I crowded into the other. I didn’t have time to look back as I began steering but I could sense that Poe was surprised that I didn’t come with him. The urge to turn around and yell at him for the exact same thing that had happened moments before was strong, but once again not our highest priority. What was important was the stormtroopers tailing us. Rey took over on offense while I piloted us, it wasn’t until her cry of my name that I turned around. The troopers were flying through the air using jetpacks, something none of us had ever seen.

“I can’t get a clear shot!” Rey yelled.

“Switch with me!”

She continued firing her blaster as she moved to the front of the speeder where I let her take the wheel. I ducked down next to Bee and calculated what angle I needed them to be at for my plan to work.

I’ve got an idea. “Bee, not now,” I shouted over the engine, turning back to the problem at hand. Ignoring my ignoring him, Bee began tapping away at a stray canister in front of us until it shot up into the air. A yellow explosion burst from the canister in front of the stormtroopers. When one emerged from the cloud, his disoriented driving sent him off a ramp like cluster of rocks. Rey turned and took a perfect shot, the trooper’s speeder exploding in the air.

“Never underestimate a droid,” she grinned.

“He’s doing my work for me!” I replied, standing back up and nudging Bee, “Now where’s Poe and Finn?” “Y/n, look,” I joined Rey at the front of the speeder, “Ochi’s ship.”

Parked atop a large structure of rocks was a modest craft that hopefully contained the answers we needed.

Rey’s face turned serious, “I’ve seen that ship before.”

“Y/n! Rey!”

I whipped around to see Poe and Finn’s speeder flying up behind us, “You get all of them?”

As I inhaled to answer triumphantly, the speeder was thrown forward and us with it. We flew through the air before landing roughly in a pile of dark sand, the screams of the rest of our group following directly after. I rolled over with a groan and looked up to see one last trooper whizzing through the air. Finally getting to go through with my original plan, I got to my knees and raised one of my hands, force pushing him into one of the cliffs.

“So they fly now,” I exhaled, falling back on my heels. As soon as my full weight landed in the sand, it began collapsing into itself.

“What the hell is this?” Poe exclaimed, I looked over to see the same sensation happening to him.

“Sinking field,” Rey cried, “Try to grab something!”

I struggled against the pull of the field to try and reach a piece of our smoking speeder, but my torso was already below the surface making it nearly impossible. I had landed somewhat near Poe and tried to wriggle my way to where he was, him already doing the same. I stretched my arm out as far as it could and barely brushed his fingers when his head dipped down below the surface. “Y/n!” he called out just as I lost sight of him. “No!” I yelled, throwing my arm into the pit and fishing around to try and grab him. “Rey, Y/n,” Finn said frantically, “I never told you tha-“ he disappeared into the black sand, lost to us. “What? Finn!” Rey called, it was the last thing I heard below my body was pulled under fully.

What followed was pure darkness, I kept my eyes squeezed shut as to not get anything in my eyes. In a flash of panic, I flailed about and tried to swim upwards back to the surface for a breath of air. All I could do was struggle and pray that I met the bottom, I didn’t want to die in a pit of sand. After a few seconds, I crashed through something hard and my back hit open air. I fell to the ground with a groan, Bee’s beeps and squeals a homing beacon in the dark. “Poe,” I sat up, feeling around the dimly lit cave for him, “Poe…” “I’m here,” he replied, I could barely make out his silhouette as he crawled on his knees to me. His gloved hand wrapped around my arm, making his close presence known, “Are you okay?” In a rare moment of tenderness, something we hadn’t felt in a long time, I reached up and laced my hand through his curls bringing his forehead down to meet mine. “Where’s everybody else?” Poe pulled me to my feet and unsheathed his flashlight, “Rey! Finn!”

“You didn’t say my name, sir, but I’m alright,” 3PO said, coming in from the other side of the cave.

The sand seeping out of the ceiling of the cave followed by loud grunts sent Poe and I bolting towards it just in time for him to catch Rey and ease her down to the ground. “You all right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, “Where’s Finn?” “Where’s Chewie?” I asked, rotating my head rapidly to try and get a full scope of the cave. On cue, Chewie dropped harshly from the ceiling with a moan, I ran over to him and helped him sit up.

Finn climbed out of a hole behind us, “I’m good. What is this place?” He stumbled towards us, the four of us huddled together for a relieved reunion.

Poe had one hand on Finn’s shoulder and one clutching my waist, he pressed a quick peck to my temple. “I thought we were goners,” he panted, I savored the feeling of being close to him even if it had taken thinking we were going to die to get there.

“Which way out?” Finn asked.

I squinted as I looked at our surroundings, “Can’t see a thing.” One step ahead of me, Rey unclipped her lightsaber from her belt and ignited it, lighting our path. Poe stepped forward as well, clicking his inferior flashlight on as if it would make a difference next to the luminous weapon. Shaking my head at my boyfriend, I ignited my own saber and followed Rey, “We need to hurry if Ren’s on his way. “So what was it?” Rey asked as Finn joined us.

“What?” he replied confusedly.

“What you were gonna tell Y/n and I?” A beat passed, “When?” “When you were sinking in the sand, you said ‘I never told you…’” Rey spelled it out for him.

He inched closer to the two of us and lowered his voice, “I’ll tell you later.” “You mean when Poe’s not here?” the man in question asked from behind us, staring Finn down as he squeezed between the three of us.

“Yeah,” Finn replied confidently.

“We’re gonna die in sand burrows and we’re all keeping secrets?” Poe deliberately turned his head to look at me when he hit the word ‘secrets,’ a wave of guilt washing over me.

“I’ll tell you when you tell us about all that shifty stuff you do,” Finn fired back, referring to to hot-wiring of the speeders and no doubt something else he’d seen Poe do recently.

“I do not wanna know what made these tunnels,” Poe commented as he took the lead at the front of our group.

Ever the helper, 3PO jumped in to give an answer. “Judging by the circumference of the tunnel walls…” Poe turned to the droid, “I said I do not wanna know. Not,” he realigned his focus ahead of us, spotting something in the shadows, “What’s that?” “Is that a speeder?” Finn asked. “An old one,” Rey answered as she got a closer look. “Wonder if it still runs,” I said, running a hand over the dusty vehicle, “We’re gonna need a way out of here.” “Perhaps we will find the driver,” 3PO said hopefully. I think they’d be dead by now.

“Yep, BB-8, I think dead too,” Poe responded to his droid’s astute observation.

“Oh, my,” 3PO pointed towards the symbol on the front of the speeder, “A hex charm.”

“What’s a hex charm?” I asked, shining my saber over the detail and getting a look at it myself.

“A common emblem of Sith loyalists,” 3PO answered. “The Sith…” I mumbled under my breath, running a finger over it and catching the dust in my hand.

“This was Ochi’s?” Finn asked. “Luke sensed it,” Rey stepped forward, “Ochi never left this place.” “And he ended up down here,” Finn continued the train of thought.

“He was headed for his ship,” Poe completed the sentence, “Same thing happened to us, happened to him.” I followed Rey who was hot on the scent of something, the two of us spotting the skeleton at the same time. “So how did Ochi get out?” I took a breath, “He didn’t.” The four of us moved as one to examine the carcass, mangled and broken into pieces but clearly bearing resemblance to a creature. “No he didn’t…” Finn muttered.

“Bones,” Poe said from beside me, turning away for a second to stifle a gag, “I don’t like bones.” “Bones? Never a good sign,” 3PO commented.

My eyes flitted over the scene while Rey searched deeper, spotting a bump in the sand with Bee and helping him to unearth it. She pulled out a unique carved dagger, I could sense the same thing upon seeing it that she could. “Horrible things…have happened with this,” she trembled. “The writing…” I crouched down next to her, running a finger over the weapon and trying to figure out what language the script was written in, “I don’t recognize it, 3PO?”

The loyal droid came forward and took the dagger from my outstretched palm. “The location of the Wayfinder has been inscribed upon this dagger,” he announced, “It’s the clue that Master Luke was looking for.” “And? What does it say?” I asked with a hopeful smile.

3PO turned to our group, “I am afraid I cannot tell you.” “20.3 fazillion languages and you can’t read that?” Poe asked in confusion.

“I have read it, sir, I know exactly where the wayfinder is,” the droid responded, “Unfortunately, it is written in the runic language of the Sith.” “And?” I asked, inklings of impatience seeping out of my voice.

“My programming forbids me from translating it.” “So you’re telling us the one time we need you to talk,” Poe shook his head, “You can’t?”

“Irony, sir,” the droid answered, backing up to face us head on, “I am mechanically incapable of speaking translations from Sith. I believe the rule was passed by the Senate of the Old Republic.” I wasn’t listening, none of us were listening as he went on, instead focusing on the large serpent that had appeared behind 3PO with a growing growl. The four of us took a startled step back and held out our various weapons. It let out a meaning roar followed by a loud hiss, alerting 3PO to its presence. “Serpent! Serpent! Serpent!” Surprisingly, Rey placed a hand on top of Poe’s blaster and lowered it as the serpent showed off its razor sharp teeth once again. Keeping her eye trained on the beast, she blindly handed her lightsaber out for Finn to take. “Rey…” he cautioned, gripping the weapon tight in his grip. I could sense what she was sensing as I watched her approach, the serpent was crying out in pain more than anything else

“I’m gonna blast it,” Poe said quietly, his blaster once again aimed at the snake.

“Don’t,” I whispered, contradicting my words as I kept my saber activated in my hand, ready to fight if necessary. Rey kneeled down next to the snake, her eyes still locked with it as she laid her hand over its body. It snarled at her but she didn’t flinch, shutting her eyes and doing what I suspected she would do. She healed whatever wound the serpent had, receiving a small non-threatening moan in thanks. It snaked away down another pathway of the cave, revealing an exit that lit the cave up with the sunlight of Pasaana.

Bee rolled forward to ask Rey what she had done as she rubbed her hand, “I just transferred a bit of life. Force energy from me to him. You would’ve done the same.” “Luckily, we won’t have that problem again,” I said as I deactivated my lightsaber and clipped it back onto my belt, helping Rey up after, “Nice job.” Our group climbed out of the hole and we got a good look at the rock structure that displayed Ochi’s ship we’d seen during our speeder chase. “Looks like we’ve got our ride,” Poe commented as we walked up the rocks.

“We cannot possibly fly in that old wreck,” 3PO interjected.

“We gotta keep moving, find someone who can translate that dagger,” Poe replied, “Like a helpful droid.” “I suggest we return to the Millennium Falcon at once,” the droid said as forcefully as he was capable of being. “Troopers’ll be waiting at the Falcon,” I said, pausing my steps to try and shove aside the pain I felt at the thought of leaving my beloved ship behind, “We’ll find a way to get it back.”

Not more than two seconds after I spoke did each hair on my body stand up straight and a cold wave run through my body. I twisted to look out upon the miles of sand and rock, sensing the familiar presence of Ren yet not being able to see him. Rey and I shared a look, concern mixed with understanding that someone had to deal with it. I could feel that it was her that needed to confront him, I wasn’t the only one that shared a complicated history with the Supreme Leader. I nodded understandingly to her, the two of us not needing to speak a single word.

“What is it?” Finn asked, approaching the two of us. “I’ll be right behind you,” she said, handing Finn her staff and bag, “It’s okay.”

She passed by both of us, heading back down the way we’d come to go deal with our problem. “Let’s go,” I directed, turning back towards our new ride, “She’s got this.” The rest of us climbed the rest of the rocks until we hit Ochi’s ship, opening the ramp and heading into the heart of it. “Let’s see what we’ve got,” Poe said, switching on the flickering lights, “Let’s get those converters fired up.”

Finn, Poe and I marched to the cockpit, swiping at dusty cobwebs that adorned the ship. Poe flipped open the shutters and started her up proudly while Finn and I were more focused on looking out the windows for Rey. “Where is she?” he asked me.

Poe interrupted before I could form an answer, “Guys, help me out over here.” “Chewie, tell Rey we gotta go,” Finn ordered the Wookiee, who looked to me for confirmation. I gave a short nod and ran off the assist Poe in getting the ship up and running.

“What is she doing?” he grumbled as he sat down in the captain’s chair. “She’s helping us out,” I sat down in the seat next to him, “Trust me.” “That’s all I get?” he asked annoyedly as he flipped various switches, “Another Jedi thing I wouldn’t understand?”

“Are we really doing this right now?” I snapped, pressing a few buttons to help prep the ship.

“We wouldn’t have to if you would just tell me what’s going on,” Poe shot back, his voice raising to match mine. “It’s Ren,” Finn interrupted our fight, anxiety creeping into his tone. He bolted out of the cockpit leaving Poe and I to ourselves. “Finn, wait!” I yelled, taking off after him before he tried to intervene. I caught up to him outside of the ship, “Finn, you’ve gotta let her do th-“ My feet stopped as I spotted what Finn saw as well, Chewie was being loaded into a First order transport along with the dagger. Finn and I dropped to the rocks, crouching down and watching the scene unfold as the Wookiee pushed forward into the ship, hunched over and handcuffed. My natural instinct was to run and free him, but I knew that spelled too much potential danger for us all. And with Finn’s hand tightly gripping my arm, there was no way he’d let me go. It was one of the worst tortures I had to endure.

“We need to find a way to stop the ship,” I said quietly through my unshed tears, “If Poe could get that thing in the air…” “If we fire, the whole thing goes down,” Finn ended the idea as soon as it had been born.

I buried my face in my hands and rubbed furiously, my mind spinning with adrenaline and worry. The sounds on an approaching ship caught my attention, I rose to my feet and followed the noise across the rocks. Yards away from us stood Rey, lightsaber ignited with her back turned to the ship that undoubtably belonged to Ren. She took a running start as the craft advanced toward her and what happened next even I could hardly believe as I watched it. Rey flipped up in the air, letting her arm hang down and slicing off one of the ship’s wings. While she landed gracefully in a cloud of dust, Ren’s ship split violently until it was just the round cockpit rolling across the field of sand before exploding against one of the rocks. My breath caught as the flames engulfed what was left of his ship, I searched for any life left in the wreckage, sensing that he wasn’t dead yet. With my focus momentarily on Ren, I hadn’t noticed Finn had climbed down the rocks and was calling out for Rey.

“They got Chewie! They got him!” he pointed to the skies, I looked up to see the transport containing him had taken off.

“No,” I mumbled to myself, sticking my hand out to stop the ship using the Force. Rey had the same idea and aided me in my efforts. At that moment, a familiar cloaked figure emerged from the flaming wreckage, slowly making his way towards us. I could feel his stony, emotionless stare even with the great gap between us. Even so, I kept my focus on trying to pull the ship out of the sky. Ren extended his hand as well, creating resistance for Rey and I that only made us try harder. The three of us stood locked in our stances, throwing the ship from side to side as we battled for the life inside.

Then suddenly, the fight was over. From Rey’s outstretched hand came thick strands of lightning that wrapped around the ship. It took mere seconds until an explosion ripped the ship apart.

“Chewie!” Rey shrieked in horror. “No!” Finn cried.

I dropped to my knees in shock, watching as the wreckage floated to the ground, Chewie buried somewhere inside. One loud guttural sob escaped my lips and I clutched my stomach, crying out for the loss of another part of my family.

“Guys!” Poe’s voice broke through my grief, “We gotta go! They’re coming!”

Through my tears, I looked above to see Poe standing above me next to the ship and heard the noise of incoming fighters. I had to summon the strength to rise to my feet, my eyes drifting back to Chewie’s fiery grave one last time. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. I spared a final look to Ren, who I could sense was just as shocked at what had happened as I was. I sensed something in him, the same thing I had sensed when Mom had been thrown out of the Raddus. Sorrow. I wished I could have said I cared, but all I felt towards him was anger. He had contributed to Chewie’s death.

As Rey and Finn approached, I snapped back into action and climbed the rocks, Poe helping me and pulling me up the final foot. We bolted for the ship, racing to the cockpit and taking our assigned seats. He had gotten the thing in flying shape and as soon as we had everybody on board, Poe lifted it off the ground and shot us into the sky and away from the fighters. It was only when I knew he could manage without me that I slipped out of my chair and out of the cockpit.

A distraught Rey was waiting in the hold for me, she stood as I entered, “Y/n, I’m so-“ I breezed past her and Finn, I ignored the droids, I didn’t even think to go to Poe for comfort. Instead, I locked myself in the refresher and let my tears freely fall, mourning the loss of my life long friend.

----

A/N: I promise the next chapter will have little more going on...Let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged ☺️

Taglist: @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @springfox04 @constantdisgrace @holybatflapexpert @seninjakitey @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet @leilei-draws @eternal-fandoms @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @imaginecrushes @eternallyvenus @thescarletknight2014 @simplybarnes @captain-america5 @breyasficletblog @caseymcflurry @stumbleonmywords @april-14-blog @i-ievu @ultrunning @desperatelytryingtosavemyself @caswinchester2000 @meraki-loki @lovinnholland @wishing4wishes @fruitloopzzz @bbuckysbeardd @justanotherblonde23 @ace-fiction @abysshaven @thisshitfucks @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @itsfangirlmendes @superbookishhufflepuff @zoriis @hybrid-in-progress @chloe-skywalker @lovinnoya @horsedragonllama

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x solo!reader #poe dameron imagine #star was imagine

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accioromione · 4 years

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I loved the fic where Hermione was jealous, can you plz do something similar with Ron? There's my idea. Ron finds out that a colleague of Hermione is flirting with her(maybe Harry told him😉) and like that's not bad enough the guy is handsome, wealthy, top of his class(head boy) at hogwarts and now has a very successful career in the ministry. Rons insecurities start coming back and he is afraid he is going to lose her😱.... do you best! 👍

“Harry I’ve told you countless times that-” Hermione began in the ministry elevator as the doors closed , but she was interrupted by the elevators opening once again due to somebody stopping the closing doors with their briefcase.

“Sorry,” said a tall handsome man walking in, “didn’t want to wait for the next.... oh wow it’s Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, what are the odds,” he said. “Albert Wildsmith,” The man added, holding out to shake Harry’s hand and then Hermione.

“Wildsmith?” Hermione asked, as she shook his hand. “As in Ignatia Wildsmith? She invented Floo Powder.”

The handsome man chuckled, “it is true what they say about you then” Hermione blushed, “the one and only, I don’t take credit for her work though- the gold she left behind is more than enough.”

“Well nice to meet you,” said Harry, looking at him suspiciously.

“What floor?” Hermione asked, going to reach to press a button.

“Six,” said the man,

“oh that’s my floor too, are you new then?” said Hermione.

“Oh yeah, well here, after graduating I got a placement in France because I can speak it fluently, but I got offered the assistant head position, and it’s quite nice to be back in England. I missed it.” said Albert.

“So you went to Hogwarts then?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, I graduated in 1993.”

“Yeah that would have been our third year-” said Hermione thoughtfully.

“What house were you in?” Harry interjected.

“Ravenclaw” said Albert,

“Oh, you were head boy weren’t you? I remember an Albert who was a Ravenclaw head-boy!” Hermione said excitedly, Albert smiled.

“That was me,” said Albert smiling, “impressive how you can remember, looks and brains you’ve got” Hermione blushed.

“So you’ve been in France since?” Harry asked.

Albert nodded sadly, “yes... I wish I could have been there...for you know.. the war.”

“Well France didn’t ban you from coming back did it?” Harry asked.

“Harry!” Hermione said.

Albert smiled sadly, “I had ministry restrictions, France wasn’t prepared for me to leave.”

“How lucky,” said Harry. “We know a girl from France, she came to England, married Hermione’s FIANCEE’S brother, she helped out even being from France and all.”

“Harry!” Hermione said again.

Albert smiled at her, “it’s okay- I understand, I would be that way as well. Fiancee eh? Lucky bloke.”

Hermione’s face flushed.

“Yeah Ron Weasley, sure you’ve heard of him if you’ve heard of us,” said Harry annoyed.

“Oh...I have heard of him... well... lucky guy anyways,” said Albert.

“Floor six” a lady’s voice said coolly.

“Well that’s us I guess,” said Albert, “it was nice meeting you Harry,”

“Oh I’m coming, Hermione and I have to talk about....ministry matters.” said Harry, Hermione looked at him confused.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“Yes Hermione I have to discuss something of great importance with you,” said Harry puffing out his chest.

“O-okay?” Hermione said.

The doors opened and the three of them walked out.

“Well, nice meeting you Albert,” said Hermione walking to her office. “Let me know if you need anything,”

“Will do,” Albert said smiling at her “pleasure again Harry,”

Harry followed Hermione to her office and turned at her at once.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, annoyed.

“What?” asked Hermione confused.

“He was flirting with you!” said Harry.

“Oh Harry stop...no he wasn’t.” said Hermione absentmindedly. “That’s seriously what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“You’re not going to cheat on Ron are you?” Harry asked sternly.

“Cheat on.... are you crazy Harry? I would never.” said Hermione.

“Good,” said Harry crossing his arms, “because once he hears about-”

“What? Oh don’t tell me you’re going to tell him!” Hermione said.

“Well why not? Since you don’t think its a problem!” said Harry angrily.

“I don’t,” said Hermione, “but you know how Ron get’s... he’ll be jealous for no reason, don’t tell him Harry. It will cause trouble for no reason.”

“Fine,” said Harry walking off, “he seems like a pompous git anyways.” Hermione rolled his eyes and Harry walked away.

“Harry I’m serious, don’t tell Ron!” Hermione called back as he walked away.

“I won’t!” said Harry, leaving.

xxxxxx

“What’s his name again?” Ron asked.

“Albert,” said Harry.

“Sounds like a git,” said Ron.

“That’s what I said.” said Harry.

“Bragging about being in France during a war, Fleur’s from France, she helped.” said Ron angrily.

“That’s what I said!” said Harry.

“Well I reckon I need to place a visit to Hermione’s office today,” said Ron sternly.

“Er-” said Harry.

“What?” asked Ron.

“I kind of told Hermione I wouldn’t tell you, she didn’t think much of it,” said Harry.

“Right,” said Ron getting to his feet, “well, I’ll just pay a visit, make sure the bloke see’s me, and if I happen to injure him accidentally well, so be it.”

“How tall is he again?” Ron asked looking back before leaving the room.

“Still shorter than you,” Harry responded.

“Right.” said Ron, “Well thanks mate, can always count on you.”

Ron left the Auror department and headed for floor six.

“Oh hi Ron!” said the secretary,

“Hi Janice,” said Ron, “Hermione’s in her office right?” he said loudly.

“Um, yes?” Janice responded, confused at the loudness in his tone.

Ron leaned into whisper, “do you know an Albert?” he asked, Janice giggled, “yes” she whispered back.

“Do you mind telling me where his office is?” he whispered again.

“609,” Janice whispered, giggling.

“Right, thanks loads.” Ron said, he figured he’d ‘accidentally’ knock on room 609.

He knocked the door to room 609, no response, he sighed, just his luck.

He figured he’d go see Hermione to remind her that she was in fact engaged to him. He knocked Hermione's office door and opened it, “Hermione love?” Ron said entering the room. His mouth gaped open as he saw her sitting down at her desk, laughing, with another handsome man seated right across from her.

“Ron!” Hermione said nervously.

The man turned to face Ron. Ron was boiling with anger.

“A-Albert this is my fiancee, Ron Weasley,” said Hermione.

“Pleasure,” said Albert getting to his feet and reaching to shake Rons’ hand. Ron did not shake Albert’s hand back.

“R-Ron this is Albert Wildsmith,” Hermione said, “he’s new to the department, just transferred from France.”

Ron looked at him, “You’re fluent then?”

“What?” asked Albert.

“Oh you sure know how to pick them Hermione, fluent in French..what else?” Hermione glared at him and Albert’s face flushed.

“Oh-oh yes.”

“Nice, real impressive” said Ron, “I’ve learned a few phrases myself,”

“Oh really?” asked Albert intrigued, Ron nodded his head.

“Yes..let’s see...I’m a a bit rusty....umm oh yes!” Ron said snapping his fingers, “tu misérable petite baise”

Albert’s eyes widened, “I er...”

“A veela taught me that one,” Ron said proudly. “Funnily enough Hermione doesn’t like it when I talk to French Veelas, looks like she has no problems talking to French ... how do you say .... wankers in French?”

“Ron!” said Hermione.

“I-I’ll just go,” said Albert.

“Oh no stay Albert, Alberto, Big Al, Al the pal!” Ron said, helping him sit back down

Albert looked at him awkwardly.

“I um...” Albert began,

“Oh let it all out Albert, heard you had lots to say with my fiancé over here, why you were just laughing five minutes ago,” Ron said.

“Ron seriously you’re over-” Hermione began and Ron lifted her hand to silence her.

“Listen pal,” said Ron loudly, “you may think you’re some big shot because you lived in France and you’re handsome and your great ancestor invented Floo Powder, but let’s make three things clear.” said Ron now holding up his three middle fingers.

“One,” Ron said, “I hate baguettes,” putting down his pointer finger

“Two,” Ron continued, putting down his ring finger so that only his middle finger was stuck up. “The Floo Network is a right MESS, and most people apparate or use portkey’s now.”

“And THREE” he said touching Albert’s nose with his middle finger, “I don’t know who you think I am, but I am not afraid to fight any French pansies and ruin their handsome faces, GOT IT?” Albert gulped and nodded.

Hermione put her head in her hands,

“Now you’re off with a warning but if I hear you come near my fiancee again we’re going to have some major issues. Got it Napoleon? AU REVIOUR.” Ron said and Albert got out of the seat and ran out of the office.

“Ron,” Hermione said shaking her head, “he was signing documents,”

Ron looked at Hermione angrily, “must have been some funny documents,” he said snatching the paper from her desk, “ah yes policy eighty five, HILARIOUS”

Hermione shook her head, “Why are you like this?” she asked desperately.

Ron looked at her in disbelief, “You’re flirting with some random bloke! You expect me to be over the moon about it? YOU SET BIRDS ON ME WHEN I TALKED TO ANOTHER WOMAN.”

“That is not the same thing, I wasn’t flirting,” said Hermione.

Ron rolled his eyes.

“first of all, who trusts a brit who willingly moves to France?” Ron asked.

“Ron this is not the hundred years war- I should have never told you about muggle history” Hermione said.

Ron looked at her furiously.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” said Hermione “but you really have nothing to be worried about.”

Ron crossed her arms and Hermione approached him slowly.

“seriously,” she breathed, “that-that doesn’t even cross my mind,”

“well letting him flirt with you is just as bad,” said Ron, slowly melting at her touch.

She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, “what do you expect me to do? Be mean to him? He works in my department.”

“Yes,” said Ron.

Hermione laughed, “ugh you’re so annoying... but endearing at the same time,” she said as she placed a kiss on his lips.

“He’s handsome,” muttered Ron.

“So are you,” said Hermione, Ron’s ears turned red.

“He’s rich,” said Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “yes because I definitely am looking to get more money,” Ron laughed despite his anger. Him and Hermione had gotten so many promotions that they were making well above average income alone let alone together.

“So I have nothing to worry about?” said Ron.

“No you jealous idiot,” said Hermione, Ron grinned.

“I will punch him you know,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “I know,” she said, “but no punching is permitted, we all know how brave you are,”

“He was scared wasn’t he?” Ron said, “ran out like a pansy,”

Hermione crossed her arms. “I told Harry not to tell you because I knew you’d be like this,”

“Well I for one am thankful someone has my back in this god forsaken place,” Ron said, Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Why must you be so dramatic?” she asked “now he’s scarred and will be too scared to talk to me again,”

“Good” said Ron.

Hermione looked at him, “fine, I’ll be nicer... but if he flirts with you again, it’s my fist he’s getting in his face.”

“Noted.” said Hermione

“And tonight... I’m reminding you of why it’s me you’re with.” Ron said sternly, Hermione’s face turned pink.

“Oh?” she asked.

Ron nodded angrily, Hermione bit her lip.

“S-so like...y-you’re going to be l-like that other time?” Hermione asked, her breath hitching.

Ron nodded angrily, “yes like that time Harry told me when you talked to... wait a second,” Ron said with a look of realization hitting his face.

“What?” Hermione asked innocently.

“You sneaky witch!” Ron said, “you did it in front of Harry on purpose because you knew he’d tell me because you... you... wanted me to... like last time!”

Hermione’s face flushed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said.

Ron grinned, “you’re sick.”

“A-and what are you going to do about that?” she breathed.

“Oh you’ll find out tonight... don’t overwork yourself... you’re going to need some energy when you get home.” Ron said, Hermione bit her lip. Ron shook his head angrily.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered to himself exiting the office, Hermione smiled as he walked away, excited for what tonight had in store for her.

#romione #my fic #honestly proud of this one

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skye-huntress · 3 years

Text

RWBY V8 Episode 12 “Creation” Reactions

I don’t even know why I’m surprised. If there is one thing that Ironwood is consistent at it’s his incompetency. All his plans are full of holes and blindspots so of course like all of his other plans his plot to threaten Penny into complying would fall apart as fast as he put it in motion due to factors he is too stupid to consider, you know like the fact that members of his own military have enough of the integrity he lacks.

I’m not surprised by the kill on sight order. When RNBWPM set off the alarms in the military compound, Ironwood authorised lethal force against them

Vine seemed to be reflecting on their choices and was perhaps starting to realise they have been on the wrong side of this conflict all along but too little too late

Emerald playing a Penny double is something we all called, but I didn’t expect Winter to be in on the whole plan. Smart of her to coordinate with her sister in order to neutralise Ironwood

“You did the right thing.” “I have. Feels weird.” But you’re smiling so I guess its the good kind of weird, or it’s the euphoria from pulling off such a great con on a massive douche

With both JNPR and Winter ambushing Jimmy, they certainly took no chances with him, which again, smart

Meanwhile, one of the things I’ve hoped for and predicted was Marrow using Stay on Harriet! I mean, it was all three remaining “Ace” Ops, so it’s not personally targeted at her but I’ll take it

Also, BTW, I think I covered this last reaction but Marrow... Great of you for having enough integrity to understand what Jimmy was doing was very wrong, but try to think through your response to things before you got yourself in trouble, or shot. Good thing Winter managed to keep her head and knew they’d need an actual plan and help

So their plan was to use the staff to solve their other problems with the evacuations and Penny. And with the gravity dust Atlas has they have a brief window but it is as I suspected. You can’t have the staff as such an important part of the show and not use it so Atlas was always going to fall, but it hasn’t yet. This of course is going to cause all sort of problems later but more on that later

Quite the hole Oscar left. I love seeing Ruby use the new application of her semblance, it opens up so many possibilities.

I didn’t quite catch Creation Jinn’s name so I’ll call him Blue until I look it up later. May I just say, I love Blue throwing shade at the idea of a floating city. When you think about it, the then Kingdom of Mantle would have probably been better off keeping their feet on the ground.

Before we continue, I’m just going to say something so people are clear why I stand on this, Penny is, always was, and always will be a real girl/woman. As a transgender woman myself, I know better than most that the parts we are made of do not necessarily define who we are. Whether she is made of flesh or metal, human or faunus, Penny is Penny

It feels a bit like cheating, doesn’t it, like they bent the laws of the universe a bit, but hey, desperate times. I can’t pretend to understand it and I don’t even think Jinn could explain it in a way I could but the results are what matter. Besides, bending rules to save the day is very much a Team RWBY thing

I admit it was unnerving watching Penny’s old body die, the way it reached out like even though it was soulless it still had something of her left like memories of what it had lost. Not to mention a clear visual of what almost happened

So throughout this show, Penny has given and received a lot of great hugs, but never thought much about how she feels them. In hindsight, not exactly something I would want to dwell on since it wouldn’t change unless the tech in her body change, or so I thought. She is just so precious how she is now not only showing her affection but enjoying the physical act of doing so. I want to see more cuddly Penny going forward, for the rest of the show. Because Penny is not going anywhere.

Also, when of the first things I noticed about Penny was that she had a blush!

So begins the Fall of Atlas. And as Jaune begins his broadcast, it goes down. That’s probably not a good sign and the fact they weren’t able to fully explain the situation will likely cause problems further down. But also why? The likely culprits would be Watts and Cinder, and the goal would be to sow confusion as well as make it difficult to communicate via scrolls

Ah, Jacques is still around, somehow. You know, it occurs to me that with the entire Kingdom being reduced to rubble, so goes most of the SDC’s assets. While it’s not entirely clear where he’ll end up, yet, he will have still lost everything he had built up and I find that very satisfying. As for Weiss, her home is her family, that’s all she needs and more than Jacques ever had

So now the critical part, getting everyone out of Solitas before the inevitable. Already, the confusion and hesitancy going around is going to slow things down, and every second is going to count. Then there’s the pocket realm Blue created, where if you fall off, well, I’m guessing there is nothing that will ever break your fall and once the Staff is used again, that whole realm and probably everything still in it may cease to exist

Then there’s the final destination. Before the events of the show, Vacuo would have been considered the least ideal place for a whole Kingdom of refugees to go, and the last Kingdom for Atlesians to go to for help given how their ancestors played no small role in its exploitation and decline. But Vacuo is the only Kingdom Salem has yet to attack and the only one not dealing with any direct fallout. Still, resources are scarce enough in what is basically a wasteland and accomodating such a sudden influx of refugees is going to be impossible. Not even touching on the political shitshow it’s going to be

Now, the outstanding issues. It’s like some kind of cruel joke, Ironwood initially stopped the Mantle evacuations because he thought that was how Cinder got in. This time she actually has planted herself among the refugees. Neo and Watts, too, no doubt. The advantage is theirs and their targets are Ruby, an exposed staff, and Penny who is both unarmed aside from her magic and not quite as durable as she used to be. Three villains, three targets

Then, there’s Salem. Not only are they racing against the Fall, they’re also racing against her resurrection which could happen any moment. And the only way to stop her and her Grimm from following is to close the “doors” which might require creating something else. But who would make that call, and when. I suppose if they manage to keep hold of the staff, the most logical thing to create would be a “temporary” shelter for the refugees. Considering anything Blue creates is temporary, it can be as sturdy as they want

We still somehow have two episodes to go and so much that can and will go wrong. I don’t like it!

Final note, I want to hug Penny, too!

#rwby #rwby8 #rwby8 spoilers

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck Restrospective: The Raider of the Copper Hill! “You Got Rich Son”

Hello all you happy people! And welcome back to my retrospective of the Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck! It’s been far too long, almost three months since we last checked in with Scrooge and frankly I feel i’ve been spacing these entries out too much for this one and for the retrospectives that aren’t paid for in general. So expect at least one McDuck adventure a month till I finish, possibly two when I can swing it like this month.

Now i’m done beating myself up, when we last left off a younger more naive, more optimistic and less experienced Scooge took up a career as a cowboy for Cattle Baron, gained his first sidekick in the form of his Horse Hortense, and took out some cattle thieves with the help of Teddy Fucking Roosevelt.

This chapter marks the end of the story’s first act. The first act is about a younger and far nicer Scrooge: still onrey and still a cheapskate, but still a good kid and far more outwardly friendly and welcoming, a far cry from the bitter untrusting man we come to know. This chapter is one of the reasons why, as Scrooge learns a hard lesson about wealth and success, the sacrifices one needs to make for family and about sticking your hand in a lightbulb while it’s plugged in. So join me under the cut as Scrooge meets another valuable mentor, one of his greatest enemies, and about 50 feet of barbed wire.

We begin with the end of Scrooge’s time as a ranch hand and cowpunch. With homesteaders moving in and dividing up the land, Murdo simply dosen’t have the space for cattle baroning anymore and has to let Scrooge go and head back to texas. We do get a great bit of Scrooge wrapped in barbed wire, having gone to cut some down so Murdo could move the herd out.

So with his Job done and parting on good terms with his old boss, Scrooge sets up his own homestead on some land near the Anaconda Silver Mine, trying to make it as a prospector, starting on the path that would eventually lead him to riches.. in about a decade and a half.

So Scrooge bemoans his rotten luck over Dinner with a stranger, Marcus Daly owner of said mine... who just.. randomly sat down to have dinner with a 17 year old.

Marcus belays his own woes: While Scrooge has failed at what he tried to do, having gotten into both steamboating and cattle punching too late to go anywhere with either, Daly has a silver mine that’s full of copper: decent amoutns of it but still not what his investors wanted.

Both however find their fortunes reverse in an instant in the weirdest way possible. The light goes out at their table and Scrooge tries to adjust it only to electcute himself. To his shock...

He finds out it’s running on electricty, which is starting to become widespread.. and requires vast amounts of copper wiring. Scrooge is back in the game but finds trouble getting equipment as the local seller naturally is a jackass who jacks up the price. Scrooge instead sells the gold teeth his dad gave him to the nearest gentleman after talking him into it. . And i’ts not even the weirdest transaction i’ve seen this week.

For the record those weird things are the guy on the left’s skinflakes, his power is to make naked golems of himself out of his dandruff and skin flakes and what have you, while the guy on the right is paying for a mutant with a star for a head. So yeah a scottish cowboy selling his ancestor’s dentures to pay for mining gear is refelshingly tame after all of this.

So we get the comic equivleant of a montage as Scrooge starts his work at prospecting, making a portable homesteader shack as a miner owns any land he lives on, and moving around to try and find it, but he runs into a problem: with his last two careers he had mentors to help him learn what to do: Pothole taught him riverboating and Murdo helped him learn to ride the trails. Here he has no one and while you can self teach a lot of things prospecting isn’t one of them.

He end sup finding one though as a rich gentleman asking about the mine happens to wander by: Howard D. Rockerduck. If that names sounds familiar it should as he’s indeed the father of exactly who your thinking of and we meet a young 10 or so year old john who asks him to stop dealing with a grubby workman. We also find out whose responsible for him turning out ot be such a piece of work as his mother’s response to his father telling him “I used to be a grubby workman is well... word’s cant’ do this amount of classist bulslhit justice.

Seriously his unnamed wife is so odious it hurts. And how the fuck did an honest, kind man like Howard end up with this bitch? It’ sbaffled me every time i’ve read this: did he marry for money? is he a gold digger? go down gold dig get down? Is she just THAT good in bed? Did he just make a horrible mistake one night? Did she lie to him about who she was? Was she replaced by a skrull? I have questions no duck comic has properly explained.. and if they have please tell me. Also it does tickle me we’re getting a bit with a duck named howard though sadly he wears a top hat instead of a nice little bowler. And if you don’t know who howard the duck is.. shame on you. And if you’ve seen the movie.. my deepest sympathies.

While Howard laments wanting to horsewhip his son, this was a century ago with change mind you standards were different and also John sucks. Howard crticizes Scrooge’s techqniue after introducing himself, and Scrooge and him get into a bit of a tizzy, with Howard offering to teach him for two cents.. but the hostility quickly desolves hours later as Scrooge realizes Howard was right and he’d been doing things completely wrong and the thrill of hard honest work again has washed away any ego driven competiviness.

I”ll get more into Howard in a second but he does eventually strike copper, and while the vein is full it’s also thin. But Howard has one final trick and takes Scroogey for an ore test. I tried to find more on this but just found a lot of ways to do it yourself and what not. I”m now really intrigued how they did this and found the content of minerals. I know it’s a dull subject but i’m curious how they did it with the technology of the time. Did they just use acids like I found? If so how’d they get them? I do say this is one of the great qualities of Rosa’s works: he makes you want to learn more about history. I looked up more about TR after the last chapter and now I want to know how the hell metallurgy worked in the late 1800′s.

We then get an intresting interacton as Scrooge.. warmly greets the townsfolk and vice versa.. yes the same Scrooge who as an adult would be introduced proclaming...

Is warm, optimistic and wholeheartedly belieives...

As you can probably tell by Howard’s reaction and what Scrooge becomes.. this story’s all about shattering that notion and is the first of two to shatter the poor kid’s trust in people and make him into the bitter old sod we know.

The sample comes back 55% positive... which leaves Howard rushing to get Scrooge to a court house. As it turns out there’s an old, very real for the time, mining law called the Law of Apex: whoever owns the land closest to where an ore vein is on the surface owns the whole thing... so legally Scrogoe owns the ENTIRE ANACONDA COPPER MINE, which at this point as detailed in the time skip has gone from struggling to utterly thriving and sucessful. Whoever owns the land at the time the Judge rules it gets the mine.. and Scrooge’s friends, who seconds ago were concerned about him being dragged into court.. are now all scrambling to take his fortune, something Howard dosen’t seem at all suprised about.

But while this may be a kinder, more naive Scrooge McDuck, it’s still SCROOGE MCDUCK. His response is to cut a nearbye power wire and swing it tarzan style over to hortense and ride her back ahead of the mob... with the electric wire slapping her rear and causing her to go extra fast.. and also quit. So Scrooge stands alone but manages to take out some of the ruffians with his shack while John and the Judge rush to the site. As for Scrooge well... you want to see what a McDuck family beserker rage against an ENTIRE angry mob of opportunistic assholes look like?

And this isn’t even the most badass thing Scrooge will do this series. Or even in the next few issues. That’s how awesome this series is: fighting an angry mob SOLO with simply his pure rage and whatever he can grab and throw. And he WINS. He’s exausted and passes out, falling out of the sky on his final opponent.. but he took out what was at the LEAST 50 men, and ONLY passed out because one of them threw dynamite in his out house.. and even THAT didn’t kill him or put him out, simply casuing him to land on said dynamite throwing idiot and wins.

We find out Rockerduck actually was one of the mine’s owners but helped Scrooge anyway: he has more than enough money and all it’s going to do in the end is go to a greedy brat. Marcus Daly shows up and while he’ll get the law overturned eventually, he still has to shut down while that happens and finds the right officials to bribe. And this is the 1800s... you gotta go by train to do your bribes. You can’t just do that shit over email and hidden bank accounts. Daly offers him 10,000.. but given what Scrooge could earn even before he got his mine back, Scrooge turns it down.

However this victory is bittersweet as Scrooge warmly greets his friends.. only for one to cuss him out and the other to tell him to get loss. We then get one of my faviorite exchanges in this story.

This whole Panel is a masterwork. The sheer INNOCENCE on Scrooge’s face, almost looking like Donald, desperately wondering what he did, when as Howard points out.. he did nothing wrong. He simply got successful and they resent him for it.

This has been a hard paragraph for me to write as I want to tread carefully. People do have good reasons to scorn the rich or celebrtiies sometimes. Some rich people or those in the media are genuinely terrible. Jeff Bezos, Tucker Carlson, Mel Gibson, Louie CK, Joss Whedon and even someone as low on the totem pole as Doug Walker is odious. And of course we all can think of one odious example of rich bastard i’d rather not think of, especially when thinking of John D Rockerduck and what he’l lbecome as an adult that i’m not giving a pleasure of the name drop but came to mind.

But even for good people becoming succesful puts up a barrier between you and other people: Fans of yours will admire you or write fanfic or what have about you without even knowing you, i’ve been on that side, and some people will hate you just because without valid reason, especially in this day and age. Success breeds resentment and even people you trusted and loved can sometimes turn on you. It’s the double eged sword of achieving your dreams: You get what you wanted but you often loose what you had.

And it was no diffrent two centuries ago, with Scrooge’s friends only being friendly as long as it suited them, turning on him first to steal his chance at glory and then to scorn him for daring to achieve it. Some people.. are only there for you as long as your not above them. And sometimes you can be happy. Look at Tom Hanks, who has a lovely family and a long and storied career. Or Linkara, a youtuber who has been at this for over a decade, has tons of fans, a loving wife with her own succesful channel, and just recently got contacted by his childhood heroes. You CAN be happy and successful.. it’s just very hard to make it that far.

One of the central points of life and times is that’s often not the case: You can get what you want but it comes at a cost. And it’s how you pay that price that will determine how happy you are. Another central point intertwined with it is it’s not the journey but the destination, and i’ts how Scrooge takes that journey that ultimately leads him where he ends up good and bad. And we get an all to telling all too foreboding hint in how he takes everyone he knew for at least a year turning on him overnight.

When faced with his first real loss on this Journey that wasn’t material.. he dosen’t care. He has his money and riches and that’s enough. And as we’ll see that attitude will cost him greatly. Howard is irate for a moment, hoping he wasn’t wrong in trusting Scrooge.. and indeed, for now, turns out to have placed his faith in the right person as Scrooge gets a telegram: his family needs him. And while he could stay, turn his back on them, and earn MILLIONS.. he tells Howard to tell the owner he’s taking the deal. For now when given the choice between his family and his fortune, SCrooge will choose them. Sadly.. that won’t hold true forever.

With this being the end of his time in the story, as he has a still insufferable John buy him a horsewhip for horrific but darkly funny reasons, as John brags about how rich his father is not realizing he’s buying his own whupping tool, i’d like to touch on Howard D Rockerduck and how amazing he is. Rosa managed to pack a throughly interesting, throughly engaging character into only 8 pages. While Rockerduck DID show up earlier in of ducks dimes and destinys, he wasn’t really fleshed out or named and only showed up for one page so still 9 pages total.

But in those we see a kind and noble man whose easily what Scrooge COULD have been, kind, noble, generous, hardworking and willing to give up money to help people. He’s a good man.. but even he’s seen the sacrifice Money brings. He’s clearly lost friends, lost a sense of peace, and married the wrong Woman, whose poisoned his children into a spoiled brat who will only grown into an even more spoield adult in both continuities.. if raised quite a bit earlier in the 2017 cartoon as he was made scrooge’s contemporary there rather than a child, but semeantics. Point is Howard hismelf isn’t wholly satisfied with his success.. and that’s what he and Scrooge will forever have in common, with Scrooge, likely as a result of meeting the Rockerducks, fearing an indadiquate inheritor and someone squandering what he worked hard for. Though his reasons for not taking up a wife as we’ll see eventually, if outside the main 12 part story but I intend to cover the subchapters in their own time, aren’t entirely motivated by avoiding goldigging but a broken hard and his own stubborness.

For now though we bid Howard and america adue. Scrooge however for once ends an occupation with less bitterness. Unlike his last two ventures where he made it out with only enough to get to the next one here he made it out ahead: he now has a decent suit, likely bought for him by Howard given he hasn’t cashed the check yet, I know this as it’s a major plot point for next time, 10,000 dollars.. and experince. He may of not gotten all the money he was due on this venture, but he learned more valuable skills and he feels with a land like america, the next opportunity to earn some dough is just waiting for him to get back. And as the chapter ends he muses that maybe the country could use a symbol of this countries boundless opportunity...

Final Thoughts for the Raider of the Copper Hill:

This chapter is one of my favorites. It’s nicely paced, something Rosa himself admits was often a struggle as he had to cover years at a time, has a wonderful new mentor for Scrooge, and sets up a lot of the tragedy to come in the last act beautifully. It’s a nice closer for our first act, showing Scrooge has come out of his first trip to america wiser, more experinced and more hopeful, but at heart still the same kind and noble kid he left Glasgow as. The next act is about the change of that boy into a man, how he will finally find his fortune after some more adventures.. and how the last viestges of his kindess and optimisim towards others die at the hands of a certain fake scotish gentleman.

Next Life And Times: As is tradition for this series act openers, Scrooge returns home.. and just in time to get his castle back, fight a duel and go to heaven and back. So an average McDuck tuesday then.

If you liked this review follow for more. And if you liked it a lot join my patreon so I can keep making these and hit my stretch goals. Even at just the 2 dollar level you get access to my discord and your pick of shorts whenever I do a series of them and with Goofy and Donald’s birthdays being the next ones to be celebrated you can’t pick a better time. patreon.com/popculturebuffet See you at the next rainbow.

#ducktales #the life and times of scrooge mcduck #the raider of the copper hill #scrooge mcduck #john d rockerduck #howard d rockerduck #howards bitch of a wife #mining #prospecting

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phantoms-lair · 3 years

Text

I’ll Face Myself Part 3

Woot, actually got it out in time for the new video!

As Lewis entered the cave it began to fade around him, leaving him in a much smaller and narrower space, the rip being the only thing that stated the same.

“Lewis you need to stop antagonizing him.” Lewis opened his mouth to argue but Mystery cut him off. “He didn’t take Arthur to the actual place he died, he turned this truck container into a recreation of it. He’s powerful enough to warp reality, so badly it tore a hole in space and time. He’s powerful and unhinged and you need to be more careful.”

Lewis swallowed and nodded. As much as he wanted to dig some more at the wraith’s stupidity, it showed it didn’t think of collateral damage and there was an injured Vivi out there. Bracing himself, he exited the back of the truck. But whatever he was expecting, it paled in the face of what he was seeing.

Kingsmen’s was a place he’d been countless times before. But it was currently a warzone. The van was crashed into the side of the building. Vivi was injured on the ground, clutching a sword. Lance was standing over her, the smoke from his shotgun showing he’d just fired it.

What he’d shot was a strange plant lady, half her face missing but rapidly regrowing. She was fighting off what looked like a giant Mystery and the Wraith with an oversized pair of shears.

It was almost too much to take in, so Lewis focused on the important part. If Vivi was still on the ground while this was going on she was definitely hurt. He ducked over to where she was, ready to carry her away in the confusion.

“Wha-Lewis?!” Lance asked in disbelief. “Where the devil have you been, boy?”

“I don’t know, apparently undead and out of my freaking mind?” Lewis couldn’t keep his panic out of his voice. Vivi was nowhere near as bad as Arthur was, but she still looked like she’d been knocked around a bit.

“Have you seen Arthur? I can’t find him.” Lewis was sure Lance had wanted to ask a whole bunch of other questions, but of course that one took priority.

“Apparently Anger Issues over there accidentally ripped a hole into the past and future Arthur fell out of it. My Vivi and Arthur are taking him to the hospital. Mystery and I stayed behind to distract the wraith.”

“Hospital?” Vivi tried her best to sit up. “Lemme up. I need to get to Arthur.”

“Oh don’t worry, we’re getting you to the hospital as soon as we can.” He glanced up. “Do you think we can sneak her out?”

“Not sure. The plant lady was pretty focused on her.” Lance huffed.

Lewis glanced around. There wasn’t much cover, besides the truck he had emerged from (and damn, apparently the chaos had overwhelmed Mystery. He was just sitting in front of the trailer and staring). “The rip is in the truck. If we can get Vivi there, we can go back to the present and hopefully lose her.”

“That’s where Arthur is?” Vivi asked hopefully. “It is,” Lewis confirmed.

He and Lance helped her up and led her towards the portal when the plant lady gave a sudden shriek and rocketed towards them, blades first. Lewis pulled in front of him and curled around her. He only hoped those shears weren’t powerful enough to go through him and into her.

A blur of white and red whooshed past him as Mystery, the one who’d come with him, collided with the plant lady. Only now he was the size of a small horse with far too many tails.

Apparently the canine who has been fighting the tree lady didn’t just look like Mystery.

Speaking of, the tree lady seemed shocked by a second Mystery and was thrown off enough that the wraith and his Mystery was able to drive her back. The older, more injured Mystery limped toward them. He stared at Lewis a moment. “Time Travel?” he asked. “Thanks to my idiotic future self.” Lewis grumbled.

“Future self?” Lance turned an incomprehensible look on him. Apparently they hadn’t put it together that the rampaging wraith was his ghost. “You’ve been trying to hurt Arthur?” Vivi’s voice was a growl, fierce despite the fact that she couldn’t stand on her own. “You know I would never- Father Wennel.”

Vivi’s face cleared immediately. “Oh...oh that makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Lance’s tone was dark. “Father Wennel was a priest whose church was a station on the Underground Railroad. He was caught and tortured for other locations, but died rather than give them up. Because of his violent death he came back as a wraith - and immediately attacked his former comrades.” Vivi explained.

“All he could remember about his death was their names and locations, the information he was trying to hide.” Lewis continued. “And in his altered state mistakenly believed the information was of the people who killed him. So if I died violently while worried about Arthur-” “And Arthur lost his arm the same time you disappeared.” Lance finished sadly. He glanced at the burning wraith.

“Don’t pity him.” Lewis said heatedly. “That thing used to be me, but it isn’t anymore. It’s dangerous and will stop at nothing to hurt Arthur. It needs to be put down. If we’re lucky it and the tree lady will take each other down.”

“No chance of that.” Mystery said grimly. “He is exceptionally powerful for a ghost, especially for a new ghost, but Shiromori is on a whole different level. I know no way to permanently defeat her, and the only one who can stop her, even temporarily, is Vivi.” “Me?” she asked, surprised.

Mystery nodded. “She was sealed away by your ancestor centuries ago. You could redo the sealing-” “How?” Vivi demanded. “-by driving your ancestor’s blade through her.” Mystery finished. Vivi shot him a look. “Two problems with that. One, I have no clue where it is, two I can barely stand much less wield it.” “The first is not a problem, it can be summoned. The second is more pressing.” “Which is why we should continue with the getting out of here,” Lewis pointed out. He tried to pull her towards the truck, but a wall of plant matter burst through the pavement blocking their path. “Makes sense, if I’m the only one who can stop her, she won’t let me go.” Vivi gritted her teeth. “Okay, Mystery how do I summon the blade?” “You must speak its name.” Mystery leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. Vivi nodded. “Okay, big guy, can you support me? I need you to be my framework.”

“No problem.” Funny, though, it was usually Arthur who called him Big Guy. He leaned down, supporting her weight on his arms. He closed his hands around hers, steadying the bat she was holding like a sword. “Thanks,” she said, then shouted something in Japanese.

Lewis couldn’t understand it, but it apparently infuriated the tree lady, who abandoned her fight with his Mystery and his ghost, and made her charge towards them.

“Lunge forward when I say.” Vivi instructed. She gripped the bat tighter, causing Lewis to improve his grip around her.

Tree lady’s shears was uncomfortably close when Vivi shouted “Now!* along with something else in Japanese. The previously blunt bat glowed and extended into a blade, right through the enemies chest.

The monster looked shocked and horrified. She dropped her shears as the excess vegetation shriveled and died. The shears fell from her grasp as her body shrunk in on itself until there was nothing left but a twisted vaguely human shaped tree.

“Holy fuck.” Vivi whispered, staring at the tree.

Lewis’s Mystery collapsed in relief, shrinking back to a dog, while the future Mystery nuzzled Vivi. “You did amazing.”

“You have so much explaining to do buster.” Vivi breathed heavily. “But not now. We got to go through that tunnel and find Arthur.” “*ArThUr…”

Oh yeah. That. “Get over it!” Lewis snapped, forgetting what Mystery had told him about not antagonizing the wraith. You know the story of Father Wennel, Vivi told us ages ago even in my time. You know Arthur would never want to hurt me, especially not for as stupid a reason as that.” “Of COURSE I know about Father Wennel!” The wraith snapped back. “But he couldn't remember his death. I very clearly remember Arthur laughing as I fell to my death. And then having the nerve to ‘look’ for me as if he didn’t know what he’d done.” “He didn’t!” the older Mystery protested, drawing the attention of everyone there. “I changed my mind.” Vivi said shortly. “Start talking.”

The kitsune looked visibly uncomfortable. “It was my fault. I wasn’t fast enough. The demon in the cave took Arthur’s body for his own and killed Lewis before I could move. The only way I could get it out was taking his whole arm off.” Mystery was whining through the story, the memory clearly causing him pain.

That was a lot to unpack. Lewis glanced around. He couldn’t see Vivi clearly from the angle he was holding her at, but his own Mystery was looking clearly horrified and Lance looked shocked, but also angry at the kitsune (if Lewis had to guess, for being the one who dismembered his kid).

“That sounds too convenient.” The Wrath growled.

“That sounds the opposite of convenient,” Lewis shot back.

“Arthur pushed me!” The Wraith shouted. “He killed me with a smile! Why is everyone making excuses for him?”

“Why are you making excuses for it to be him?” Vivi met the wraith’s gaze with calm certainty. “I know who you are now and I know Arthur. And at one point you knew him too.” Vivi tilted her head up and looked at the Lewis holding her. “I’ve seen how far Arthur would go for you, he cares more for you than for himself. So why are you so determined for Arthur to be the villain in your story?”

“Because he is, why can’t you see that?” The golden locket thumped on his chest in a way that looked painful. From the cracks in it purple flames seemed to lick out from the inside.

She was gone. The demon let itself relax at last. It had been annoying for her to show up right as he had finally freed himself from that cave. He didn’t know if she had left or been slain, but he was leaning towards the former. Now he could come out of hiding and continue.

It wasn’t hard to find the kitsune. He was leaking power and nearer by than could be hoped. It skittered as fast as it could manage toward the beast. There. And what luck, he was damaged too. There were others, some mortals and the ghost of that one boy it had killed the last time it had almost claimed a host, but they were inconsequential. Mortals were powerless and such a newly formed ghost would hardly be better.

True, it’s own strength was diminished enough that it would need to kill the kitsune before it took him as a host, but for trapping it in this arm, it was more than willing.

There, it was distracted, Now was the time.

The Wraith’s attempts to cast doubt on Arthur’s character was interrupted by the older Mystery screaming as something green latched onto his throat. Five thin splotches of blood began to stain his fur.

“Mystery!” Vivi called out, trying to run to him, but having her knees buckle under her.

Lewis continued the charge, yanking the thing off Mystery’s next. Then he saw what he was holding and flung it away with a scream.

It was an arm, green but not with the color of rot. The nails had become black talons now liberally coated in Mystery’s blood and a single eye stared out hatefully from the palm. But the worst thing from Lewis’s perspective was the dirty worn wristband around it’s wrist. He knew that wristband, had bought it himself as a gift for his friend.

This was Arthur’s arm.

“There,” Older Mystery gasped. “..is your killer.”

“You…” The Wraith stared at the arm, and Lewis knew he must have recognized it the same way he did. “What are you going to do about it?” taunted the demon within, in a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

And then there was fire. So much purple fire that Lewis pulled Lance and Vivi in close to try and protect them and both Mysterys stood protectively in front him. The flames devoured everything, rendering the arm into ashes as well as the demon inside. The tree that used to be a monster was unaffected, but the shriveled remains of vines and such went too. All the while the wraith screamed.

Soon there as nothing left to burn, but he continued screaming. His form flickered, first into Lewis’s face on the wraiths form, then as he was currently, and finally covered in blood with gaping gory holes in his torso and head. The screams changed too, from anger to fear and pain. The Locket was thumping like a heartbeat, with flames blasting out of it and shard flying off.

“He’s destroying himself,” The older Mystery realized. “He was formed from a hatred of Arthur and a desire to avenge himself. He’s done the latter and now knows Arthur is innocent of any wrongdoing. His power is turning itself inward.”

“That’s why he couldn’t believe Arthur was innocent.” the younger Mystery added. “His very existence depended on Arthur being guilty.” The two looked at each other then nodded and charged into the flames.

Lewis felt his heart jump into his throat and Vivi actually cried out, but the flames didn’t seem to touch either of them. Spells flowed simultaneously from both their mouths as they wove a sealing spell around the wraith. The flames vanished, leaving only silence and a badly damaged locket sitting still on the pavement.

#MSA #Ghost Writing #I'll Face Myself #Just as a note when Vivi says she knows him now she's referring to him being the person Arthur's looking for #Not that she actually rememebrs Lewis

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 3 years

Text

Dying on PLA (Pure Love Alliance)

This post was written by a former BC who questioned an authority figure on PLA and experience life-threatening consequences.

I’ll start with this: the moment I was dying was when I felt my soul sinking into the ground during the PLA 2000 tour, in a lavish town house owned by The Unification Church in Kensington, one of the most expensive neighborhoods in London, UK. I was 16 when this all happened. For some reason, my soul wasn’t rising as you might imagine when people die, probably because it was too tired, instead, it sank. I was in a sleeping bag and surrounded by 300 other kids all in sleeping bags, lined up like goods in the grocery store with little room to walk. Asleep, I slowly realized that I was sinking through my sleeping bag, past my body, into the oriental rug and through hardwood floor, deep into the ground, creeping further and further below the foundation of the building. So I knew I was dying—but I didn’t feel the least bit sad or upset. In fact I was relieved—even ecstatic. It meant that the torment from my supposed fellow BCs would be over, that this pain from the infection raging through my body that left my neck, arms, wrists wrapped in puss filled bandages, and my body so fatigued (so. fatigued.) would be over. The ground felt cool, and was getting colder, and it was really actually quite refreshing.

How great would that be to not have to wake up? Who cares if these people found a dead girl in her sleeping bag in the morning. Good for them. They might be surprised but they’d get to spin some fantastic story about my soul paying indemnity for the crimes that my Japanese ancestors committed against the Koreans; that’s apparently how they were explaining my mysterious illness to friends— an illness that had my upper body oozing a relentless and embarrassing flow of thick yellow puss, that had me changing my bandages every hour if I had the energy and a clean bandage on me. I found out that this story was making the rounds through the 300 or so BCs who were also on that tour. Before that, someone who I went to summer camp with for years, actually asked nonplussed, if I was currently struggling with Satan. Another story that others hinted to was that I was fallen. Writer’s note: At that point in time, like many of you, I had not so much as held a boy’s hand, let alone kissed anyone, made out and definitely never lost my virginity. I was precocious, spirited, ballsy—like any teenager trying to find humor in strange places. Most things I did was for the sake of a good laugh. But I was in my heart a total straight arrow, and I believed in the church, seriously, like the best or worst of them.

On this trip, there were also elders who took me aside from the group dinners and recounted the amazing stories about my dad and what a great guy he was at the religious seminary, the New Yorker Hotel, Belvedere, etc. And then they would say; Why would you disappoint him so horribly?

I wouldn’t know exactly how much I was disappointing him because I was never allowed to call him or my mom, or make any phone calls for that matter. I was being guarded 24/7, my passport was locked up, I wasn’t allowed to sleep much (I would be kept up later and woken up earlier than the others), nor take showers, which caused, what I would later find to be a trio of life-threatening infections coursing through my body. I had a very different experience from other BCs who were free to eat, shower, and sleep.

When I felt like my soul must have been half a mile below ground. I stopped, because this was it. Then I felt something big—bigger than me, bigger than everything and everyone around me, pulling me up with the utmost urgency, and I knew that this big thing gave a damn— even if I didn’t. I snapped back to my body with a whiplash that woke me up, panting, freaking out. Even if I didn’t care to live (and I really didn’t), even if these 300 other people around me, even if my religion didn’t care, God, the universe, this force, without a doubt, cared violently. This is when I realized that God did not move exclusively through organized religion, he/it moves and vibrates in anything, in everything. So my direct relationship with this force was felt for the first time under those floorboards, separate from and despite the machinations of my religion.

I immediately woke up and saw in the reflection of this gigantic ornate gold mirror on the wall opposite me, what looked like at least 20-30 white, blue glowing shadows, all very tall, standing around me and the dozens of sleeping BCs around me. Who they were, I’m not sure, I was delirious, and more importantly I was terrified that I had almost died, and so willingly. I couldn’t go back to sleep. But now I had a fire in my stomach, to get through this alive and a rabid indignity against those who’d put me in this position, including myself. I would do right by the universe, by God, by surviving this.

I got here by making the mistake of questioning the director of the PLA on the modus operandi of the Pure Love Alliance, on Day 1 of the tour. My fellow BCs didn’t make the mistake of vocalizing the inconsistencies in the logic of posing as a non-denominational group when we were 99% BCs, they didn’t stand up for the not even 1 percent non-BC kids who didn’t have a choice but to read the Divine Principle and join our prayers. If you are too precocious with too many rhetorical questions for elders, you’ll see just how nasty and how quickly the machine will mobilize against you.

Why. During the previous PLA tour of 1999 I remember lying about our religious association when being interviewed by the local news in Birmingham, AL. We were vetted and instructed to withhold our association with the Unification Church so when a reporter asked me what I was, I responded “Lutheran"— my father’s previous religion before joining the church.

I hate lying about something as grand and dumb as my religion. I didn’t think that we needed to constantly lie, it frustrated me always having to hide the church from my school friends and I wanted to do away with the smoke and mirrors and live openly about this. So at the beginning of the 2000 tour that would be marching through the US in July and then marching through Europe in August, I went up to the director and I asked him: why can’t we be forthright about who we are, if we’re truly non-denominational?

I didn’t immediately realize what a total coward he was, I just thought he was an adult, he must have some good answers. But he pandered with half answers, trotted me around the ring with half baked logic all while getting increasingly upset and dismissive: you just don’t understand; this is much too complicated for you to understand (more upset); this is God’s will; do you want to go against God’s will? And I responded with: I think it’s pretty simple, God doesn’t need us to lie. We should be honest to the press and other churches about being associated with the UC. Otherwise we should stop calling ourselves non-denominational, right? The conversation went nowhere and I eventually walked away.

I was probably earmarked as being a troublemaker but it wasn’t that bad. At least in the beginning, I hung out with my BC friends, some of whom I’d been growing up with and all was well during the tour through the US.

It was when I noticed that there were 3 or 4 non-BC kids on the tour—how they were roped in to hang out with us nutjobs for two weeks, I’m not sure, but I know everyone looked at them with a special wonder. They were special to us because we were showing them that there was this great camaraderie and communal life that we had together amongst ourselves and we really believed that we were letting them in on something special.

I noticed that while we were reading the Divine Principle and praying in circles, they were expected to do the same with us, without any opportunity to decide for themselves whether or not they wanted to in the first place. This would be a small but important gesture to extend for any organization that called itself non-denominational to the outside world; to accept and respect people of other faiths; to let them have the opportunity to pray in their own way if they needed to. It really bothered me because it seemed wildly disrespectful and a bit dishonest. If I were traveling with a Christian youth group, wouldn’t I want the right to read the DP and pray my way at 5 am in the morning on Sundays?

It became a breaking point when late one night on a tour bus in Europe, I brought up the issue again during a bus reading of the DP, and I got pissed. I openly pointed out to the bus leaders the hypocrisy of a so-called non-denominational youth group posing as such to the press, all while not respecting the faiths of others on the tour.They said that this is how it’s done, that everyone does the same thing so that they can stick to the strict schedule to get through the tour. This is the will and mission of the PLA, this is God’s will, and we need to see it through. Then I said: If they aren’t allowed to choose, than I refuse to read the DP and refuse to join prayers until they do have the choice.

I’m not really sure why I cared so much but it was because I could see my bus leaders acknowledging my logic, I could see behind their eyes that they did. But they towed the line and refused to acknowledge that there was any right. But my refusal to pray or read DP, they took very, very seriously—yet in my mind, I wasn’t doing anything drastic, I wasn’t leaving the church. That would be crazy! I was just taking a stand.

These non-BC kids were, at least outwardly, complacent. But let’s be honest we were all 14, 15, 16 years old and expected to do everything en masse, but why shouldn’t they/we have the choice to read the DP or not? What was faith if it wasn’t a deliberate, and educated choice? Shouldn’t anyone be allowed the right to question things, if only to return with stronger answers?

As soon as I had this fight on the bus, that was when the horrible things really began. I was always being shaken awake on long rides when everyone else was allowed to fall asleep, even if only for an hour or two. Lack of sleep breaks you quickly. I wasn’t allowed to sleep with my friends, instead I always had sometimes two unnis sleeping and walking with me. I could mingle with others, but I was always being watched by them close by. I was escorted to bathrooms but never allowed to take a shower, they said I could take one later, but later never came until it was too late, after my infections had become so severe they couldn’t exactly ignore it.

It was 3 in the morning when the buses filled with BC teenagers and our wranglers parked on the curve of the fucking German autobahn to let us out. We were released into the cold night by our demented but well-meaning leaders, searching along the curve of the freeway in the wet grass and mud trying to find our suitcases. Let me repeat, 3 am, 300+ teenagers trudging in the dark along a sharp curve of the German autobahn before entering what, in my mind, was the Black Forest.

I don’t even remember who was in charge of me at that point but it seemed to be predetermined that one sister became my handler in Germany. She came out of the blue, barking at me to move out, and personally marched me into that forest, literally behind me nipping at my heels, always on the assumption that I would flee sideways, off the trail, deeper into the forest, to what, I don’t know. I had no desire to leave, I was just hungry and exhausted. When we reached the top it was a huge building that wasn’t even fully constructed with insulation hanging out and utility lights haphazardly nailed and dangling from the ceilings. It was in a huge large barn like space where we convened in a long line to finally get some split pea soup as dinner, and by the time I finally got some, someone knocked it out of my hand, on purpose? Who the fuck knows. I would have cried but I was too tired and I don’t need sympathy. Some other BCs said that was too bad, but my handler wouldn’t let me go back in line to get more. Instead, we had to pitch our tents in the mud incline below the barn, my tent mate was of course my ever-watchful unni/handler.

I’m not exactly sure how the tent stood up, it was lopsided because of the mud and the wet grass, and the incline, but once that was done I went to go brush my teeth, and saw behind the barn, a bunch of white statues staggered in a terrifying symmetry along the hill; literally, I don’t think I’d ever seen anything as frightening as those statues in the moonlight. They were the true family, ghostly white and with their arms outstretched like they were dancing, I went up to them unsure as to what they were. They were smooth and so white but when I touched them, they weren’t marble, just hollow and plastic—creepy, empty lawn furniture. And for the first time in my life I saw them as this insidious, careless force who either had no idea, or simply had no compassion for the ramifications of their will and franchise. That was the night when my perspective on everything started to shift.

I wasn’t allowed to shower the next day even though I could see my other friends lining up with their towels. And I was always ferried away from communal meals, to have a one on one with some important elder who would shame me for an hour. And it worked. I remember one guy telling me with beady eyes, rather emphatically, how disappointing this will be for my father, who’s such a good guy, everyone loves him, I don’t know him, but everyone loves him— when he finds out how I’ve been working against the mission. I really tried hard to imagine if my dad would be proud or disappointed in me for taking a stand but my thoughts fizzled into a murky question mark while I stared at the white statues now in daylight. I didn’t know the answer and I was so tired, exhausted and hungry, and I was beginning to slowly not care as much.

But I also began to resent these elders for believing that I was working against them, I wasn’t! I was only asking good questions! I was on their side, and I believed I was still a good person.

Instead of not really being able to hang out with my friends, I sensed they were also avoiding me. I remember incredulous looks. It got super lonely fast.

It was when one elder oppa along with a whole slew of younger oppas in training crowded around me in a circle in front of everyone after one march to give me a talk. "Stop setting a bad example to the other sisters, this is your last warning.” Their vague warning was made abundantly clear. Even if it wasn’t true, my generation believed that I was fallen and that’s why I was acting out…

At that point I didn’t even consider the sheer stupidity in this non-linear logic, clearly, I ruined my chances of a good match! That was the end for me. No one would want to be blessed to me and that was when I began to really lose it because it never occurred to me that I wouldn’t have an arranged marriage, that my trajectory would be anything less than what was expected of me, or any different from anyone else. Even when I was asking these people seemingly simple rhetorical questions, it didn’t mean that I wanted to leave. But I was beginning to realize that it would be impossible to have a happily ever after ending in the church.

I don’t remember France, France was a blur, I just felt sluggish and horrible, light sensitive the entire time, still wasn’t allowed to sleep much and was barred from the showers. I was hiding a nasty rash that was breaking out all over my skin by wearing a cardigan, the only cardigan that I had brought on the trip.

My illness was getting bad when we arrived in the posh neighborhood of Kensington, London. The buses unloaded this shocking fire hazard number of teenagers into one townhouse that strangely appeared to have a bullet proof vestibule and a security camera at the entrance which only added to my feeling that I was being held captive. Meanwhile, nobody else seemed to care about this detail, the fact that we were in a fucking compound. You wouldn’t know it from the unassuming white exterior that blended in with the row of townhouses exactly like all the others in the neighborhood.

I remember after marching through Leicester Square, my subgroup broke off to Trafalgar Square where we shouted our testimonies at one of the fountains and anyone else who would care to stop, but no one did. My leader wasn’t really convinced by my conviction to Pure Love. It was a bit hard, being exhausted, with a fever, to be shouting about Pure Love all while being slut shamed by my generation for no good reason at all. I didn’t really feel like shouting, I just wanted rest and to be alone.

My illness was getting from bad to worse quickly, I had a fever, felt hot, then clammy cold, sweating bullets, in addition to huge open sores spreading on my neck and arms, but whenever I asked to see a Dr. they wouldn’t allow it, I later realized it wasn’t because of money, even after I offered to pay myself, it was because they were afraid that I would talk about everything happening on the tour. It hadn’t even occurred to me to go public with any of this. With what? I didn’t know that there was a story, how bad it really was until afterward.

I did finally get to take a shower in London, I think because that was more reasonable than covering up a dead girl, probably. But the shower didn’t help at that point. Whatever was happening with the sores, it was also in my blood, I felt exhausted, jumpy, crazy, sensitive to light, miserable. When they wouldn’t let me see a doctor, when the pus was spilling out of my bandages and running down my neck, running down my arms, like in some horror film, I begged them to at least let me go to a pharmacy to buy bandages, Neosporin and hydrogen peroxide. They agreed so long as a brother escorted me, a tall one who could easily outrun me if it came to it.

Maybe it was because they were making such a huge deal to keep me on watch that I began to fantasize about getting away. Not to tell on anyone or anything, with no agenda in mind, I just wanted to go home. I asked if I could get my passport and my ticket to try and go home early but that was not possible. I just wanted to get away and so on our way to one rally, I had this brilliant idea and I jumped out of a subway train and onto the platform, I only ran 5 steps before I was yanked back into the train by my unni. After that everyone thought I was totally nuts and definitely pure evil. I had no idea where I was planning to go, I think I was just going to ask directions to a hospital— at that point my sores on my upper body were just getting bigger and were oozing, no amount of soaking the sores in hydrogen peroxide or neosporin would help. It was embarrassing because it was pus and blood soaking through my bandages and into my shirts that I could only rotate so many times. People on the subway and in public were furtively staring at me, they probably smelled the disease on me, but I couldn’t ask for their help.

In my mind today, my older self rewrites the history of that trip. In my older self’s version: I’m unstoppable even though I’m sick. In a fit of manic strength, I jump out of the train, out run my guard, and I don’t stop running until I get to a doctor or to a police station, whichever happens first — then I seek protection at the US embassy despite not having a passport or money on me, and then I get to all major news outlets and I expose this youth group for their psychological and physical abuse, and for misleading the public on the PLA. By doing so, I set a chain of events on an international scale that would bring to light all of the questionable things we’ve had to quietly endure. I put a small chink in the church’s armor and it all comes crashing down. I save my fellow BCs from a life without an educated choice to believe or not, from the waste of time spent fundraising for a thankless institution while their families struggle to get by, in questionable matchings, in a sad, vicious cycle.

In actuality, after nearly dying in a sleeping bag, I’m too tired but crazy alert and a day and a half later I’m somehow on my way to Heathrow airport via the subway. On the way there I fall asleep hugging my backpack, only to wake up to find that other passengers are just looking at me horrified; my bandages had soaked through again, I was pouring pus onto my backpack. I’m so embarrassed for alarming these strangers but there’s nothing I can do, I had changed my bandages only an hour before hand, right before leaving the townhouse. All I can do is zip up my anorak and hope I can rinse these out later.

Finally at Heathrow, I’m handed my plane ticket and finally, my passport and it turns out that the tour is over. I can’t even believe it but the elders, including my handler, are walking away to catch their own planes. I curb my hysteria and get to a pay phone where I finally call my parents in Seattle on a collect call, and I’m freaking out, I’m worried that someone will come out from nowhere and cut the line, capture me, throw me in a white van, what with my luck.

My parents are so happy to hear from me! How are you kiddo? I have to fight to keep from sobbing, I’m shattering and yelling, focusing on just one thing: that they have to get me to a doctor as soon as I land, I keep repeating this until my dad promises and repeats this to me. I’m scared I just might drop dead right then and there. Once I’m appeased, I take deep breaths to cool down and I ask my mom if anyone in her family did anything to the Koreans during the occupation. She doesn’t understand the question until I explain to her the theory behind one of these rumors.

The line went quiet.

My dad doesn’t know what to say, but my mom blew her top, she was furious.

In my mother’s adorable, hot headed Japanese mom fashion, she emphatically starts yelling into the phone about how my ancestors did nothing. No one in my family served, and in fact, my family was socially ostracized for years for accepting a Korean family who were on hard times into their farming community in Shizuoka prefecture. (see Footnote)

She was furious and I think stormed away from the phone but I was happy to know, without a doubt, that this dark age posturing was completely ridiculous. My sense of what was reality and what wasn’t was a bit diminished in my daze the past few days, I was glad to have my intellect reinforced.

My parents collect me at the airport and are stunned by the shape I’m in. The doctor explains that I have several severe infections, a staph (staphylococcal) infection and impetigo— a highly contagious bacterial infection on my skin, but it was progressing as an infection in my blood—septicemia, which would have killed me in 48 hours without medical attention. I’m given a heavy flow of an antibiotic cocktail and I’m closely monitored. When I do get home, I can hardly move, and if I’m not sleeping or sitting in a mineral bath, I’m taking antibiotics and trying to heal my skin in time for the new school that I’m transferring to. But in every waking moment, I’m trying to make sense of the previous two weeks. I tell my parents that I’m no longer in the church and they don’t even put up a fight. We don’t talk about it but they can hardly believe what happened to me.

From that point on, I’ve kept my distance from every BC. I partially hold it against them for being complacent, for not chiming in with me, for not seeing the fatal flaws that were so obvious to me. I hold it against them for not standing up for me when they saw the quiet abuse that I went through. For not speaking up for me when people were effectively spreading lies about me. But I realize they didn’t really know me enough, or really even know what was going on all around us at the time, or themselves for that matter. And if I were them instead of me, would I do it any differently?

I hold it against the church for breeding ignorance and stupidity in its members and families; encouraging them to have upwards 10 kids before they can even think about what it means to really take care of them, giving them a real, true education and a fulfilling life; for grinding these families into poverty, a life partially lived on food stamps, for what exactly, I’m still not sure; for collectively instilling this insidious belief that it’s women who are always at fault/responsible in all situations and who carry the onus of Eve’s imprint on the Fall; that men are never to blame/never responsible and therefore unaccountable creatures save for their purpose of begetting a blessed family; that if you’re about to be raped, it’s your duty to kill yourself—not defend yourself and your right to live—before it gets to that; that you are anything less in God’s eyes if you are raped; that our sexuality is a fixed binary without room to account for a full spectrum within ourselves that acknowledges and respects humanity in its entirety—homosexuality and all. I hold the Church responsible for the deaths of BCs I knew, but that’s a longer, separate story.

When and where it all went bad for the Unification Church, I don’t know. I know it was a beautiful thing when my parents joined, I truly believe that they were meant to be together. It was something that I believed in with my whole heart when I was little. I do in fact believe that I’m a blessed child— I have no doubt that there’s a divinity in me, but I know there’s a divinity in everyone, BC or not. Our lives should be lived acknowledging and honoring that little spark, that bit of magic in each of us. It’s that simple.

My only regret in leaving the church at 16 was leaving behind my fellow BCs, especially the younger ones who have no one to advocate for their choice to question. I know they’re struggling or have struggled against parents and elders who are even more forceful and too scared to ask the same questions themselves. I know their questions are harder because they haven’t seen what I have in such crazy, sharp relief. It was made almost too clear to me but for them their experience is slower, blurred and more broken. I have dreams where I’m fighting for them, but I have to leave them behind to fight my own battles. I can hardly think about the church for very long without feeling the most violent, extreme emotions, mostly on behalf of my fellow BCs. It’s part of the reason why I’ve kept away for as long as I have, I’ve forgotten names and faces, and while I’ve forgiven the church for what it’s done to me, I will never forgive what it’s done to the thousands of individuals and families raised in almost poverty because of it. In my heart, it’s not hate, it’s justice, it’s right and wrong, clean. In my heart, I am a fucking vigilante, and part of what propels me is to vindicate them. I fantasize about doing well enough in life, to have enough money so that I can buy up each of the church’s properties so that I can burn them all down to the ground, in the name of all my fellow BCs. If there is one thing that I can thank the church, it’s for making me a fiercely passionate person. To this day, I don’t think anyone can hold a candle to the flames that burn in our hearts.

Life outside of the church is hard, reprogramming the way you consider everything never ends. Dating still feels impossible even after 10 years at it. But it’s so beautiful, it’s so varied and complex and breathtaking— the multitudes, the possibilities that I’ve experienced and are still at my feet. It’s always up to me, every mistake, triumph, difficulty and opportunity is up to me, and I’m so grateful that my conclusions are my conclusions even if it’s a process. As stupid or sad as this story is, I’m grateful for it because now I have a tenacity that rivals most anything. Now, almost 14 years later, I am a fucking panther and I don’t let anyone or anything take me down. Nothing fools me, no situation happens without my consent, and I live life fully, authentically, deliberately and always on my terms. And I want that for every single BC, in the church or not.

__________________________

Silra said: This makes me so sad. I’m an ex British moonie and the PLA was a last straw for me. I was 12 during that time and remember rumours being rife amongst all the BCs. I had to say my testimony at Leicester Square where my dad was super proud. Little did he know I wasn’t happy and the rumour mill was ripe with bullshit about me. I’m sorry you had to go through that.

__________________________

Footnote

The Unification Church heavily guilt tripped the Japanese members about the Japanese occupation of Korea (1910-1945), and about the Korean ‘Comfort Women’. To understand the psychology of this manipulation used during recruitment, see:

Japanese woman recruited by the Unification Church and sold to an older Korean farmer in an ‘apology marriage’

To understand more about the Korean ‘Comfort Women’ issue see:

The Comfort Women controversy

This ‘Comfort Women’ research is very important for all Japanese members. For some perspective, here is an extract from a piece from the New York Times. There were more Korean ‘Comfort Women’ serving the US military from 1950 than ever served the Japanese military during the colonial period.

New York Times:

Ex-Prostitutes Say South Korea and U.S. Enabled Sex Trade Near Bases By Choe Sang-Hun January 7, 2009

SEOUL, South Korea. South Korea has railed for years against the Japanese government’s waffling over how much responsibility it bears for one of the ugliest chapters in its wartime history: the enslavement of women from Korea and elsewhere to work in brothels serving Japan’s imperial army. 

Now, a group of former prostitutes in South Korea have accused some of their country’s former leaders of a different kind of abuse: encouraging them to have sex with the American soldiers who protected South Korea from North Korea. They also accuse past South Korean governments, and the United States military, of taking a direct hand in the sex trade from the 1960s through the 1980s, working together to build a testing and treatment system to ensure that prostitutes were disease-free for American troops. 

While the women have made no claims that they were coerced into prostitution by South Korean or American officials during those years, they accuse successive Korean governments of hypocrisy in calling for reparations from Japan while refusing to take a hard look at South Korea’s own history. 

“Our government was one big pimp for the U.S. military,” one of the women, Kim Ae-ran, 58, said in a recent interview. 

Scholars on the issue say that the South Korean government was motivated in part by fears that the American military would leave, and that it wanted to do whatever it could to prevent that. 

But the women suggest that the government also viewed them as commodities to be used to shore up the country’s struggling economy in the decades after the Korean War. They say the government not only sponsored classes for them in basic English and etiquette meant to help them sell themselves more effectively but also sent bureaucrats to praise them for earning dollars when South Korea was desperate for foreign currency. 

“They urged us to sell as much as possible to the G.I.’s, praising us as ‘dollar-earning patriots,’ ” Ms. Kim said. ...

The Comfort Women controversy

youtube

#PLA #Pure Love Alliance #Moonies #Sun Myung Moon #Unification Church #CARP #Japanese occupation of Korea #Comfort Women

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annes-andromeda · 3 years

Text

Ragnarök: Asgard’s Twilight

Chapter 5: And In With The New

N/: Fifth chapter with the introduction of Hela. And also more family issues cause what’s the Thor franchise without it?

Thor felt as if he was going to pass out. He stepped back, taking in what was just told to him. As his head looked around, he could see Loki’s expression: eyes wide, jaw dropped, chest heaving. Both were breathing heavily, leaning against each other for support, and Loki squeezing his brothers shoulder painfully.

Odin turned away from his sons, unable to look at them. Darcy and Jane remained silent, the shock getting to them as well.

“No...” Thor rasped “That...no...”

“I’m afraid it’s true” Odin stated

Thor lifted his head, and his face was serious. His nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched. The way his fists tightened made Jane step in as he stomped towards his father. Jane’s attempts and her small “Thor, no” didn’t stop the man from confronting Odin.

“You...lied” Thor growled “All this time...making me believe that I...lying to me... to Loki... to Asgard...”

Jane’s hand was on his chest “Thor stop this, now. I know you’re mad, but please don’t start something”

Odin just ignored the whole ordeal, walking past Thor and grabbing the arm of the coach for support. He tugged at his chest, groaning in pain. Thor saw his father struggling, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Not even Loki moved from his place. Such shock had rendered their bodies motionless, with only the two women moving an inch.

“We must leave” Odin said bluntly “It is not safe here. She will come soon”

Loki finally had the gal to move “Father, no, wait-“

“NOW!” The All-Father yelled, startling everyone in the room. Jane looked over to Darcy, who was left speechless over the whole ordeal “Darcy, stay here” she told her “I’ll be back in a bit. If anything happens, call me. Please”

“Don’t have to tell me twice” Darcy mumbled

Thor stood in Jane’s path and stopped her “Jane, no. I don’t want you to be apart of this”

His voice was broken and harsh, but Jane stood her ground “I’m going, Thor. My research on the Valkyrie and your culture hasn’t just been for nothing. There are dreams that I’ve been having, visions. I don’t know what they mean, but I know it’s nothing good. Someone’s trying to talk to me, and I need to know who or what it is”

“It’s too dangerous. You could get hurt”

“Whatever it is, I’ll be ready”

Thor sighed. He was too tired to argue. Besides, he and Loki would be beside her the whole time. No harm would come to her.

“Alright” Thor finally said. He motioned for Loki to come along, the man still starstruck over the news. The only thing Thor could do was put his hand on his brothers back to support him.

Loki’s eyes were fixed on the floor, as the two walked to Jane’s car with Odin. Once he sat in the back, Loki finally spoke “My mother...is Hela. I’ve been lied to... again”

Do something, you oaf, Thor’s inner voice said. He wrapped an arm around Loki’s shoulder, but he still kept his distance. Thor felt it would be inappropriate to suddenly get so close to his brother. The gesture could’ve startled Loki. And in a way, it did, with how he fidgeted in place and only moved farther away.

“It’s-“ Thor began, but instead, he stopped himself and sighed “It’s going to be alright” Whatever he was going to say wouldn’t have mattered. As if it would stop what was already transpiring.

At the front, Thor could see Jane looking up at her mirror to see into the back. She didn’t say anything. Instead, she started up the car and made her way through the streets “Where are we going anyway?” Jane asked. Since no one was speaking at the moment, Odin had to respond “Anywhere away from here”

A sigh escaped Jane’s lips “I can take you to an open field out in the country, but I can’t guarantee there won’t be at least onlookers”

With that, the majority of the car ride was pure silence. Loki looked outside the window, not acknowledging how Thor’s arm continued to support him, even after he moved away. As for Thor, well, he never stopped staring darkly at his father. He just couldn’t. The anger that radiated from him was jarring to say the least.

“My boy,” Odin began “You must understand tha-“

“No” Thor interrupted him, his voice low “Don’t bother. Whatever you say, it’ll just be another lie, or another excuse. I truly believed that you’d be able to help, but instead, I find another truth that you refused to tell. Once again, I’m too expectant of you”

Odin pursed his lips tightly “Do not come to lecture me, boy. You don’t know what I’ve had to endure to keep the peace within the Nine Realms. So do not speak to me of taking responsibility, when you can’t even accept the birthright that you were destined to take”

“A birthright that was never even mine to begin with?” The words came with venom, eyes narrowed down and nose scrunched “A birthright that I had to live up to for nearly an entire millennium because you were never satisfied with what I had done?”

“You were selfish and cruel!” Odin challenged “Arrogant and boar-headed”

Thor scoffed “I wonder who I got that from?”

That alone resulted in both of them silencing. Loki hadn’t said a word, not even bothering with the very familiar argument between his brother and father. As if he could even call them that anymore. But he wasn’t going to resort to uncle and grandfather, when brother and father where so much easier and familiar.

The car suddenly stopped, as Jane pulled into a field of grass. There were no houses or even barns, just endless roads and greens. Jane got out the car before she turned back to check on the passengers “This should be good enough”

“Let’s go” Loki said quickly. Thor wanted to stop him, to talk to him. But his face said it all. So instead, he just got out the opposite way, with neither of them even bothering with helping their father, which resulted in Jane lending her hand, despite Odin’s refusals.

They walked into the field, with Odin at the front. Jane looked behind her to see the two brothers side by side, unable to look at one another. She sighed as she turned back, but then, she heard one of them talk.

“You alright?” Loki asked Thor.

The eldest chuckled under his breath “Finally, he speaks” It was a small gesture that made his brother smile, but the mood was still solemn “He lied” Thor motioned to his father “He lied to me. He’s my father, and I’ll love him for all my life. But to know that everything that I’ve done to make him proud was for nothing...it pains me”

Loki listened to Thor intently. It was good that for once his brother chose to talk through his problems rather than just punching out of it “He’s lied to me as well. Again. And I will love him all the same. But that doesn’t mean I have to like him. Now that Ragnarök is upon us, what more can he do?”

Thor was about to respond, but his gaze then moved to his father, who was tugging at his chest painfully. Even with his rage, Thor instinctively ran towards Odin as he dropped to his knees. Loki followed suit, with Jane bending down with her arms around Odin’s shoulders.

“She is coming”

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Off across the stars, in a hole of darkness, the goddess Hela sat in chains of gold. They expanded across the endless pit, with no one but her to hear the clanking. But then, they grew lighter, dropping to the blankly floor until they broke. Lifting her hands, Hela massaged her wrists, looking at them blankly.

A smile formed upon her lips

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Before any of them could do anything, a crack was heard and they all looked to see a black portal beginning to emerge. Odin quickly got to his feet despite the pain and looked to Thor. “Kneel” he said

Thor was confused “What?”

“Kneel!” Odin repeated with more vigor. Thor did as he was told and kneeled, but his attention was to the growing portal before him “Father-“ he tried to say, but Odin shushed him “Father wait, I’m not ready-“ “Silence!”

Loki put his arm in front of Jane and pushed her back. Thor’s breathing grew heavy and labored as his father placed his hand atop Thor’s head “In the name of Asgard and of our ancestors, you will act upon the good of the realm. You will set aside all selfish ambition, preserve the peace, and continue on our legacy, now until the end of your days. Arise now,... Thor All-Father”

It had happened. It had really happened. What he had been waiting for for so long was a reality. But at what cost?

Odin forced Thor up and huddled him closer “Seek out the fire...”

Processing the words his father told him, Thor stepped back, now standing next to Loki. They looked at each other, a silent conversation between them. Thor grabbed at his necklace, ripping it off and transforming it into Mjölnir, which he used to change into his armor. Loki had also changed into his Asgardian attire.

The portal opened wider, revealing the now escaped prisoner. There stood Hela in her broken chains, clothes torn and hair unkept. Her eyes were smoky and lifeless, a wicked smile across her lips “Odin...” She sneered

The two brothers were about to come closer, but Odin stopped him “Do not get involved, my sons” he said to them “Return home, warn the others. This is my battle”

With a calm stride, Hela walked towards Odin, a smirk painted upon her lips “Look at you” she said, her eyes examining the aged man “Such a mess you’ve turned into. From a golden king leading his men into the fits of battle, to a drunken fool needing care from a Midgardian woman. Pathetic”

Despite his orders, Thor stayed behind his father, his grip tightening on his hammer “Mind your tongue”

But Hela just chuckled and even rolled her eyes “Oh how I had almost forgotten you, brother. I must say, the tales I’ve heard of you do you no justice. A spitting image of father, if I do say so myself. Tell me, what lies has he fed you?”

“That’s enough” Loki voiced. Hela stopped dead in her tracks to look at the man. Shockingly enough, her face softened and her smile was... eerily genuine “Hello my boy” she said to Loki, a shiver going down his spine as she said that. The news still hadn’t settled for him “Tell me, did you miss your mother as much as she missed you?”

Even with genuine fear in his heart, Loki stood his ground, careful not to wear his emotions on his sleeve “Considering all the stories I’ve heard of you, I’d have to respectfully say no” That probably wasn’t the best choice of words, as Hela’s seemingly sweet demeanor instantly faded.

“Stop your jests, Hela” Odin stepped in “You’ve come for me, not them”

He walked closer towards her, while her eyes narrowed “We were the perfect match, you know?” Hela said in a sneer “I and Laufey. If not for you and your... righteousness... we could have shaped the Nine Realms into a glorious empire. But instead, you lock me away in an endless void, attack my beloved, and stole my precious son to your golden castle”

”You and Laufey would have brought nothing but death and destruction to the Nine Realms. I did my duty as King of Asgard. Your way was cold and brutal”

As he said that, Hela’s smile returned, but it was far from sweet. No, this one was chilling and unnerving, forcing Thor and Loki to brave themselves “And where did I learn that?”

Suddenly, a dark blade appeared in Hela’s hand, which she used to stab Odin in the chest. Thor and Loki could be heard shouting “No!” loudly. Odin dropped in his place immediately. A wave of energy emitted from him, leaving his body and inhabiting itself in Hela.

Needless to say, Thor was left speechless “No...that’s impossible” he rasped “The Odinforce it...But, father made me King”

Hela could only chuckle “Oh brother, such ignorance you possess” She lifted her hands over her head, creating a terrifying headdress that looked sharp enough to pierce skin “What is a King compared to raw...untamed...power” The last word came out in a snarl, and before anyone could blink, Hela pounced towards Thor.

Thor blocked the attack with his hammer, and he looked over to Loki “Get Jane out of here, now!”

But despite his attempts to move, Hela immediately noticed and stopped Loki with her swords, throwing them at him. He effectively blocked them while dragging Jane away. Thor kicked Hela in the stomach, pushing her backwards. But she retracted, and kicked him back as he dragged down into the dirt.

Thor turned Mjölnir his hand and launched it towards Hela. But what happened next left him practically dumbfounded. Hela, miraculously, had caught Mjölnir with her bare hand. It was shaking in place, but she didn’t seem to struggle one bit. The only muscle she moved was her cheeks, to which she used to form a smile on her face.

“That’s not possible” Thor said in disbelief. Loki and Jane has also stopped to see the ordeal

“Brother, you have no idea what is possible” Hela said. With that, she extended her arm and threw Mjölnir back to the ground with such a force, it sent shockwaves throughout the area as it plummeted. When Thor saw Mjölnir, it was nothing more than a pile of crumbled rock.

He turned towards Loki and Jane, and practically sprinted towards them. He held onto both of them and yelled to the sky “Skurge!”

The sound of the Bifrost could be heard, and its light carried the three away. Hela could only shake her head as she walked towards the passage, but not before looking down at Odin. His breathing was shortening and his body growing limp “Asgard...is not...a place”

Hell rolled her eyes at him “Do leave your folly for someone else, father” And with that, she manifested a sword and finished Odin off. A trail of blood left his mouth, and his pupils dilated. Hela walked without rush into the Bifrost.

What should’ve been a moment of safety turned into panic, when Thor saw Hela coming towards them. He looked to Loki, who took action and shot a bolt of magic towards Hela. But to her, it was but a fly on the wall. She swatted the bolt away and plows through Loki and Jane, sending them both out of the Bifrost.

“No!” Thor yelled. He tried throwing a punch at Hela, but she blocked it with ease. She was about to finish him off like she did Odin, however Thor saw the blade and kicked Hela. But, this resulted in him also being knocked out the Bifrost.

Now that the three of them were gone, Hela made her way to Asgard, with no obstacles standing between her.

Ragnarök had officially begun.

#marvel #my writing #fanon marvel #ragnarok rewrite #not ragnarok friendly #thor odinson #loki friggason #jane foster #odin borson #hela odinsdottir #anti ragnarok #just in case #gagnarok

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hearthandhomemagick · 3 years

Text

The Cottage Witches Journey Journal 18+ Trigger Warning (discusses adult situations and mentions abuse, assault & suicidal thoughts)

I would like to start this journal entry with who I am. My name is Carly, and my spiritual practice is focused on my Hearth and Home. I am writing this to kind of freely express myself, my experiences, and even speculations I may have. Feel free to follow me through this journey, or even offer conversation if you have a thought. I’m open for human connection and communication!

So, I’d say my journey started at a very young age. I grew up along side a river in Florida, where my family has owned land next to the water for quite a few generations. I grew up with a sizeable family and a lot of spiritual survival practices, including identifying plants and herbs for healing purposes, learning to read the land in front of me, and cleansing my heart in the current of the river when I am hurting. These were a part of my nature, and the tree bent by Native Americans, directing the flow of the water, was an asset to the land that felt like magical anytime I touched it. I was raised under the Christian faith and followed it for many many years, until I reached college. But, before I get fully into my religious transition, let me describe the woman I used to be.

As a young woman entering the world on her own for the very first time, I felt as though I had to prove my morals to the world. I felt a longing to prove to everyone why my approach to life was the best approach, and often fought with no thought to the other person in order to get my point across. I used to be fierce in my beliefs and would argue my corner until my lungs gave out. While this is admirable as a trait in defense, it is not admirable in a trait of happiness.

You see, I was learning that fighting for what I thought was right was more important than anything else, including myself. But if I am not fighting for myself, then who am I truly fighting for? The fight for “justice” took precedent over the fight for my own sanity. This was a reoccurring contemplation that passed through my mind effortlessly one day, creating an immediate explosion of, “What is Justice to me, for me?” Now, I am still no where near knowing exactly what Justice means to me. I don’t believe I will ever have a clear answer for that question, either, because it will be forever changing and growing as my understanding expands and grows. With that urge to fight my corner, I was also very extroverted with people in general. Being bullied as a kid, I never wanted anyone to feel the way I felt, so I never held back from giving positive compliments or speaking my truth. This saved and hindered me all at once because while I loved human interaction and never met a stranger, I never truly picked up on negative gut feelings for people and gave so much of my energy to everyone that I had no energy for myself. Throughout that stage of my life, I was selfish and insecure all at the same time. My roommates were from India and China in college, and were smarter than me on paper because they had better educational opportunities than I did. I say this not because I’m jealous or envious, but because they pointed it out frequently. I could feel the insecurity of my own intelligence washing over me and their comments about me being overweight didn’t make me feel any better. These insecurities caused a heavy layer of selfishness, where I wanted to only worry about my own feelings & thoughts. While a fun period I am happy to have lived in my life, it was also a side of me that should have been put into check much earlier.

At some point, I couldn’t go back to college due to finances and was thrusted back into my hometown in Florida. This sent me into an anxiety filled depression which rocketed me into fits of self hatred, lack of motivation, lack of confidence, and staring at the pill bottle sitting on my bed side table. Through this time, I was forcing myself to pray to God that everything would be okay, & that I wouldn’t hurt anymore. I prayed, and knew I didn’t believe the words I spoke.

Let me repeat that. I prayed, knew it wouldn’t work, and still I prayed. This feeling of disconnect from my beliefs and religion rocked everything I had imagined, and yet forced me to fix my problems myself. Because I didn’t believe some magic man in the sky would magically fix all of my issues, I started contemplating whether I was connected to any spirituality at all.

Now, when I had moved back to my hometown, I started looking for friendship and found drama. I would go to karaoke at a bar with my older sister, singing is something I breathe for, and grew tired of the criticism given to people who enjoyed what they were doing, but never met the standards of professionals. My sister started talking shit about people, and I wasn’t for that energy or drama so I stopped going. I started hanging with my friend Raven, but she moved to Jacksonville shortly after I moved back. I then started hanging with a high school friend named Jordan, whom took me different places to interact with people every once in a while. Jordan knew an old high school friend, Logan, and invited me to smoke cannabis every once in a while on the weekends. While hanging out with Jordan and Logan, Logan and I started getting closer. While my mind felt as though it was packed full of passing negative thoughts and deterioration, Logan was teaching me my morals again.

At this point, my faith had been falling apart, but I had not vocalized it until I told Logan. The moment I went over to his apartment and started expressing that I felt religion was beautiful and yet not for me, his eyes lit up and a spark flew. We talked for hours that night, and for hours the nights after. He taught me to be an individual and made me feel as though I was smart again, he made me feel worth it. We eventually got into a relationship together and started working together to build a heathy foundation of trust, understanding, communication & sustainability. He is my equal, and I started my spiritual journey with him by my side.

Fast forward to the end of 2019, I’m in Gainesville (Florida) with my best friend, Tiana, for Christmas shopping. We had stopped in a few stores prior and decided that going into a spiritual store would be cool, so we sought out the Bodhi Tree. This shop was a sizeable metaphysical store that I had been in every so often when in town. Once we got there, I was immediately pulled to the back of the store where the divination tools & books were located. I had always found interest in magic and the elements, especially as a child, and caught myself eyeing the oracle cards in front of me. I could feel an energy pushing me towards a specific deck, but I couldn’t figure out which it was. So I stood for a moment, contemplating why I was attracted to that area with no interest in the decks presented to me. That’s when I noticed a blue box sticking out from behind a different deck. I picked it up & observed the lovely Angels & Ancestors Oracle box in front of me, and knew from that moment on that they were meant to be mine.

As they called to me, I found myself taking them to the check out counter and purchasing them without a second thought. I had no preface of what to expect from this, nor did I know whether this was even something I would be capable of committing to. All I knew was that my body and mind owned them before I even paid for them. The Universe confirmed the connection was meant to be when we then went to a book store and discovered an array of tarot and oracle decks & books. I bought a purple velvet tarot bag, and everything started falling into place.

After a month of playing with the cards, connecting with and enjoying their messages and images, I proceeded to buy my first ever tarot deck, The Herbcrafter’s Tarot. I fell in love with this deck, even though it was hard to read. It was my learning deck and I started recognizing what my spirituality meant to me.

Over time, I remained Agnostic in terms of Religion, and focused on the energy I held & self expansion. I didn’t know what to believe, think or even how far or long I was going to venture this path. Eventually, though, I recognized why I put a besom over my door and felt protective of my home and its comfortability. I started seeking more spiritual energy in my home and was beginning my path to becoming a Hearth Witch. I got with my cousin and at the beginning of 2020, I started my spiritual awakening journey.

It started when Logan didn’t have a job to go to. I was working as a Sexual Violence Outreach Advocate and, after a few months of struggling financially, got a second job as a CBD Store Associate on the weekends. I worked harder than I ever have in my life and learned my own independence in the process. Spiritually, my vibes were low and I was experiencing anxiety, depression and PTSD from the re-traumatization of counseling Sexual Violence Survivors. I even went through a horrible time where for months on end I would wake up throwing up non stop. The doctors couldn’t figure out what it was and I lost 50 pounds from the malnutrition. I was at my lowest, and felt like focusing on myself was destroying me more than it was helping. I took shadow-work as self hatred and criticism, and forgot to put honey on my tongue before looking in the mirror. I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why I was as sick mentally and physically as I was.

Then, something happened. After a terrible event between my cousin and nieces, where my cousin told my nieces that chopped up dead children were in the walls of their brand new home, I recognized the importance of boundaries with everyone. Now, a lot more happened between my cousin and I prior to this, including her assuming my boyfriend was abusive because she received a reading that she felt was meant for me, but never was. So, after the drama settled, I ghosted.

I left everyone’s problems to themselves and started worrying about the things in my life I can change. This resulted in actual self reflection, self awareness & peace of mind. My tarot card readings became more clear and precise, and tarot decks started being given to me as gifts. Eventually, I noticed that my job as an Advocate was a huge problem in my life.

I experienced Sexual Violence in the past, and in my year as an Advocate, I had been paid $11 an hour to counsel up to 7-12 different Survivors in a week. I was asked to do everything, including my Supervisors job, and went above and beyond with little to no credit going towards my work. I didn’t even feel safe making a mistake or two, simply because I watched Advocates get fired for having a quiet personality or making mistakes and asking too many questions. The days leading up to my final day at that job, I was throwing up everything in my stomach every morning until 5 minutes before I had to leave, so I was late for work everyday.

The day after my last day as an Advocate was my first time not throwing up in months. And I haven’t thrown up since I left.

Logan started a new job that gave him ample finances, and I was making more in a week at my new job than I was as an Advocate. This is where my healing started. I started giving my mental more attention, speaking softer to myself, and appreciating the people around me. Logan even started showing me more affection, and being nicer to himself.

Spiritually we were growing together.

Ugh, I have so much I want to discuss and talk about with others!!!! There will definitely be more thoughts and entries as time goes on. Especially with the end of 2020.

So, this is where my journey begins. I am here because I like to talk, to speculate & even debate certain things and ideas. I love energy, and the energy people bring forward is always fascinating. So please, drop an ask, message me, or let me know your thoughts!

#tarot #spiritual #shadow work #religion #witch #kitchenwitch #hearth #hearthwitch #witchcraft #metaphysical #selflove #oracle #story #journal #witchy #spiritwork #witchdiscussion #babywitch

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crzynighta · 4 years

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A small angst Drabble for Yusuke’s lupin third verse that I kept to myself I think. also I hate how I wrote Goemon but fight me it works maybe.

Under read more for mentions of abuse

Both hands failed to stop their shaking as they gripped onto the owner’s frail body as the young boy kept crying to himself , seated in the corner of his locked up room. The family always treated him like dirt on the bottom of their shoe’s. That his very existence had caused so many problems that were far from the youngest Ishikawa’s fault. But it is not like a small child could understand what their parents were saying and doing were incredibly wrong whilst far from being how other parents treated their own children. He always believed everything they said and did was correct , even when nothing truly bad had been done beforehand to warrant such a reaction.

Yusuke whimpered lowly , tucking both knees further up to his chest as the tears started to leave darker patches on the hakama. Almost begging that either mother or father would change their minds and pick him up , giving him hugs whilst repeating they were sorry for always being so harsh for no real reason. Yet the voices could be heard even from where his empty cold room was located. Always so angry and full of hate towards their own flesh and blood. Though very rarely , or rare for the boy to have overheard it , a somewhat softer ( despite the actual tone ) voice could be heard. It belonged to the singular good family member he’d met so far , the apparent uncle Goemon Ishikawa Xiii. Granted the older man focused on training and jobs a lot it appeared than being there whilst also not looking like the most approachable person at times , but Yusuke preferred to be around him than anyone else. In a way like a second much better father. As the boy remained silent in crying and trying to focus on anything else , the sliding door slowly opened as whoever it was entered to kneel beside the small child. A hand gently petted the top of his head making him look up slowly and through eyes blurred with tears he was still able to recognise who it was based on rough outfit alone. The Ishikawa by normal standards would be rather eccentric yet naturally there would always be a member of that family that was even worse than the other.

“ Oigo, it is good to know you are alright. “ despite the obvious signs that everything was extremely far from alright Goemon wanted to allow his nephew to ignore all the pain occurring. It was sickening , even in the view of someone in other ways stronger , that so called caring parents could be so cold , uncaring and down right mistreat a child of their own. The complete opposite of their ancestor who’d saved his own son for the trade of his own life. Goemon struggled with how this attitude came about but there was nothing he could do except attempt to look out for Yusuke whenever possible. The corners of his lips tugged up into a loose smile as the boy was gently picked up and placed on his knee.

“ hmn … I okay. But daddy and mommy are angry at me. I broke my clothes so got in trouble again. “ Yusuke spoke between sniffles and deep breaths still greatly upset over what had happened hours ago. Whilst damaging clothes by a small amount was never a big deal and almost expected from children he had been forced to believe it was one of the worst things anyone could do. His gaze shifted towards the floor in a way scared that even the uncle would be angry at him for it. But there was no anger. Barely a word from Goemon as the man just silently stared down purely in shock by it all. Killing such people seemed like an option yet that would inevitably cause a great amount of stress as well as fear for the family member. In the end his actions would be the exact same as the ones who originally caused all this pain.

“ no need to be upset over that now. Eventually all clothing sustains tears or just gets dirty at some point. Even I am not free from that never occurring. “ Whether he was lying or not Goemon wanted the child , that deserved much better than the hell he had been forced to live in , to not be crying or shivering in fear for at the bare minimum the week he’s currently back within the household. If that included making himself seem like a complete idiot at times or that perhaps he was not as strong as Yusuke believed him to be then that would happen. Slowly he got onto his feet still holding onto the other with an arm , keeping them as close as possible before heading out the small room to stand almost immediately within the garden. Why the child was almost forced to remain away from everyone was a great mystery that in no way made sense no matter how he tried to look at it. A cold room with only a bed , clothing and required basics to not really be an issue to some but that was it. Nothing to aid a child to learn , to have fun like others his age. Sometimes the question of if there was any good type of human contact for Yusuke was on the man’s mind. It just felt like only when he rarely was able to visit that there was actual good treatment in his life.

“ come on. Let us get some food outside this place. Then we can have a little walk for a while. “ Yusuke had perked up , looking at the samurai with the smallest of smiles and gently with the palm of his hands attempted to wipe a few of the tears. Spending time with just Goemon even if it was a short amount always would be his favourite thing.

#rummaging through the scraps ー mun’s drabbles

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sweetbyte · 4 years

Text

Lessons in Magic

Intro

Rated | T

Pairing | Bakumomo (Friendship/Brotp) | Implied/Mentioned Todomomo

Harry Potter AU Short Stories

She huffed as she pushed the portrait closed behind her and closed her eyes in efforts to keep a calm composure. If she knew him as well as she thought she did, (and she really should after 14 years or so) he would be at her door very shortly and she did not want him to see any cracks in her façade. She started counting numbers in her head, not bothering to move from the entrance, enjoying the stillness of her dorm. She got up to 75 when she felt his hard, impatient knocks from the other side and tried not to jump in surprise.

She gave herself another 10 seconds before reaching for the door.

“You’re overreacting.”

“I beg your pardon?” She frowned, the portrait being completely shoved open.

“You bloody well heard what I said, Yaoyorozu, don’t act coy.” He bit as he pushed his way into her living quarters and plopped onto her sofa.

“I hardly think I am! Additionally, you cannot just barge your way into my dorm!” She chastised, exasperated, while softly closing the portrait who was outraged at the ‘unmannered brute’.

“S’never been an issue before, princess.” He replied, eyebrow arched, arms folded behind his head, feet kicked on her coffee table.

“Must you be so difficult?” she sighed, as she made her way to the small kitchenette to prepare tea, seeing as her uninvited guest was obviously not leaving anytime soon.

“Not anymore than you.” He snorted from his seat.

Momo rolled her eyes as she continued to make the tea in silence. When finished, she carried the cups into the living room where a lounging Bakugo had proceeded to rest his head back, eyes closed, in her absence. She ‘tsk’d’ at the sight of his feet still on her table and nudged them off as she set down the cups of tea. He growled “witch” but she briefly returned to the kitchenette in order to get sugar and a small jar of milk.

Momo sat down and prepared her tea to her liking aware of Bakugo’s staring. She finally looked up when she felt her skin prick at the intensity of his gaze. “Yes?”

“What good is it being the brightest witch in class if you don’t even use your magic outside of it?”

“One doesn’t need magic for everything. You know, muggles have managed to build empires without it. It’s rather fascinating, really.”

“You’ll end up sending your mother to St. Mungos if you keep talking like that…” She narrowed her eyes at him in warning causing him to roll his eyes. “Please, I’m far from being a bloody snitch”

“You maybe far from a snitch, but being a pureblood supremacist makes you no better”

“You’re overreacting-“ Bakugo hissed out again. “You know I don’t care about that blood bullshit.”

“You called him a mud-“Momo trailed off, feeling vile at the thought of completing the word causing Bakugo to scoff.

“Am I wrong? He is-“

“Enough!” Bakugo froze at her outburst as it was not in her nature nor upbringing to loose her temperament. “I do not know what it is that you have against that poor boy, but you must quit being so despicably cruel! We are not like our ancestors who fought and lost in an unnecessary prejudiced bloodbath, or even our parents who refuse to learn from their mistakes!” She quiets to regain her composure before continuing. “We are all people Katsuki; muggles, wizards and witches...even werewolves to some extent. We all have a right to live, regardless of blood status.”

“When did you turn into such a righteous bleeding griffindor?” She pointedly chooses to ignore him and continues. “Furthermore, to answer your previous question, you are in fact wrong. Midoriya’s parents are not muggles you know. You’ve been calling him an incorrect slur this whole time.”

“So you’ll feel better if I call him a squib instead? Doesn’t matter, his mother is a-”

“I would appreciate you stop tormenting him, period. You can’t call him a squib either since he can indeed use magic. His magic is quite brilliant you know, if you would set aside whatever grudge you have on him you would see an immense similarity between the both of you.”

“You expect me to look over the fact that he was born a sqiub and suddenly has awoken a fucking ‘grand magic potential’ just after being snuck into this school?”

“It could have been dormant...”

“Not likely. He is stealing that magic, and I’m going to prove it.”

“Doubtful.” She mutters, more to herself and they settle into a moment of silence.

“So, are we going to prance around the fact that you’re suddenly so invested in muggles because of your infatuation with that half-blood?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Momo responds, grateful she hadn’t been drinking tea for she surely would have choked.

"Don’t be daft now, I told you it doesn’t suit you.” Bakugou drawls, amusement very much evident in his tone. “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“It would be hopeless to lie to you, I indeed fancy him....” She sighs in defeat knowing full well that he can read her better thank anyone else.

“He’s a ponce”

“Regardless, I’ve been rebellious enough, don’t you think?” Her voice is small as she begins to fiddle with the handkerchief in her lap.

“You? Rebellious?” He snorts

“One thing is getting myself sorted into Ravenclaw-“ “Were you not just lecturing me about this?’ He sneers, and she huffs. “This is different...”

“What happened to change and shit?” He demands, and she can only shake her head at him.

“I will fight for change, I’ll make sure our child’s future is different. They won’t be raised into the same toxic environment we were”

“Or you could be the change and fight now and be happy. Honestly, what’s stopping you?” He’s pushing her, like he always does when he knows she is lying.

“I’m afraid.” She confesses, finally bringing herself to meet his gaze. “You are my safety net, you know. We’ve been betrothed since before we could walk and while you can certainly be exhausting to deal with at times, you are also always there...”

“Fuck, now I’m the bloody ponce.” Bakugou groans into his hands before standing from his seat to hover over her resolutely.

“Look, we’ve been together for a long arse time, but breaking this” He gestures between them. “doesn’t mean you’re losing me. I’ll still be there to fight the bad guys for you, even if I have to start with our parents.”

“Why?”

“You’re my safety net too, you dense witch, but I don’t want to keep being told what to do and how to live. I told you I don’t care about that shit. Let my parents strike me off the damn family tree. I’m the only heir they have.”

“Katsuki!” He only shrugged in response before plopping next to her and bringing his feet to the table again, making her his in distaste and swat at his legs. He, of course doesn’t budge and she just resigns with a final half-hearted shove.

“What happens now?” She asks out loud, more to herself if anything but he scoffs nonetheless.

“Court his trousers off, shouldn’t be too hard.” He nudges her as she tries to lean against him, and she starts to play with his hand in retaliation.

“I’m not exactly the type to court others, it’s usually the other way around.” She pinches

“Oh?” He teases

“I didn’t mean it like that! I’m just saying it’s not in my set skills. I’m extremely awkward, and I’m aware of it.” She blushes.

“Come off it, awkward or not, you’re quite the number. Blokes feel the need to let me know all the time. I’m apparently extremely lucky, blessed even” He boasts

“I’d rather you not tell me. I don’t want to be seen as just a number to impress.” She sighs

“Impress him with that bloody brain or yours then. I’m sure he’ll find that sexy. Or, maybe shorten that skirt, you’ve got killer legs.” He suggests, mischievously.

“Please, do hush up.” She implores

“Then again, you’re quite virginal. A walking wet dream.” He continues

“I will banish you from my quarters, after I spill this tea over you” She threatens

“We both know you won’t.” He dismisses

“How they made you Head boy is truly beyond me.” She mutters

He smirks. “Because I’m smart as fuck.”

‘Not smarter than me’ She thinks

A/N : Yes, hello I live! I'm slowly getting out o my writing block/hiatus so please take this as an offering? Life has been dominating every aspect of me and I apologize for the lack of activity, specially when updating Say When. Thank you for sticking with me.

Also I just binged a whole bunch of HP content so this came about, it'll just be a type of anthology/drabbles. enjoy

#bakumomo #brotp #implied todomomo #wingman baku #arranged marriage #but not the way you think #hp au #my fics #I write #ill be back #jots #my jots #lessons in magic

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ainarosewood · 4 years

Text

Whimsy

@gatheredfates

“And so Esteemed Lords, Noble sirs I humbly request that I be given leave to begin this endeavor.” Lelulu stated looking at the assembled Houses of Lords and Commons of Ishgard.

Quiet murmurs filled the room as both groups discussed at length her proposal. She stood quietly awaiting their decision. Deep inside beneath her Warrior of Light mask was a gnawing concern. The last time she had attempted something this ambitious she had be dismissed from the Studium due to offending the wrong individual. She did not wish for a similar issue to happen again. She also hadn’t added the final stipulation she had for the project yet fearing that it would be objected outright.

Finally the room fell quiet and Sir Aymeric spoke, “Due to the noted fact that the clergy themselves have already given you the go ahead to repurpose that old hot house, the House of Lords feels that there is naught more to discuss.”

“The House of Commons raised the concern of what said endeavor will cost. Much and more has already been placed into the Firmament Restoration Effort, a worthy cause to be sure. However, since you have not given the full details of this project only the statement that it has the support of the clergy. We feel a need to ask.”

Lelulu nodded she had honestly more expected the House of Lords to raise such a concern but then again the nobles of Ishgard were not know for frugality with money.

“I have already contacted, courtesy of the Adventures Guild, the artisans required for the project. All of them will be paid via the Guilds coffers for I took the liberty of putting the project in as a Leve Prospect” she stated

“And if it was refused what would have then happened?”

She gave him a smile of reassurance, “Naught, those artisans involved would have simply be informed of the projects closure and would have turned to a different one to obtain payment. Such shifts are not uncommon within the Levemet.”

“So you will not require Ishgard to pay for an endeavor that from what you are implying will benefit the City State?”

“Correct sir,” she responded, “Think of this as a gift, from me to Ishgard for the aid it gave the Scions and myself during the unrest in Ul’dah.”

The Speaker of the Commons paused turning to his fellows who all nodded in agreement before he stated, “Than like the House of Lords, the Commons has no objections provided that the financial situation remains as presented,”

Lelulu beamed then said, “Thank you honored sirs, my lords, you will not regret this decision. However I have but one further stipulation concerning the project.”

The room once again erupted in murmurs and discussion before Aymeric raised a hand for silence, “Given all that you have done for Ishgard and her people and that you are now graciously giving more pray what would that be?”

“That upon its completion, all of the peoples of Ishgard be permitted to enjoy it. From the High Houses to the Brume. That no one be permitted to use station or prejudice to bar others from it and such attempts be met with the removal of the offender.”

Once again the room burst into sound and Lelulu just simply smiled sweetly. Inwardly she was now amused she had anticipated that the reaction would be thus but was confident given all of the strides forward the City State had been making that this would be granted.

She also secretly knew that she would have Aymeric’s approval as well as Lord Francel’s and Antoriel’s. The later Lord caught her eye a gleam of approval in his eye at her ruthless imparting of it. He could see she had learned well how to play the game.

Aymeric raised his voice to be heard over the low clamor, “I do not foresee this as sort of difficulty. After all we are endeavoring to learn from our ancestors mistakes and make a nation of unity.”

The noise died down and the silence was almost more defeaning. After an uncomfortable moment the assembled gave their assents to Aymeric’s words. He gave a warm smile gratitude shining in his eyes to her as he stated, “Go then dear friend and may Halone bless this project.”

*******************************************************************

Hours later a veritable horde of adventurer artisans appeared in the Ishgardian Atheryte Plaza to be shepherded to the vault by an excited Warrior of Light and her trio of carbuncles. Covers were placed over the hot house and construction for the project began. Even before its completion it began drawing Ishgardians from all walks of life attempted to catch a peak at this gift from the Warrior who had already given them so much.

After several weeks it was finally announced that the project was finished and the gathered artisans left returning to their home Cities eager to retrieve their payment for the job. An assembly was called outside of the building and all were met with the grinning face of the Warrior of Light as she stood before the cloth hiding the building. In the foremost were all of the children of Ishgard from the orphans of the Brume to the sons and daughters of the Highborn.

“Brothers and Sisters of Ishgard,” Lelulu called her voice easily reaching the whole crowd. Allow me to present, the Garden of Tranquility and Unity.”

She then raised one of her hands in a gesture that Aymeric found quite amusing for he knew she was mimicking the very one he had used to reveal the carving at Falcons Nest.

As the drapes fell away he gasped as did all assembled. A soft snow fall was covering the roof of the hot house but within appeared as if it were a summer days in old Coerthas before the calamity. It was almost like a fairy tale land within the building and the children all squealed in delight as the impish Lalafell led them inside.

Several of the peoples gathered outside also strode in Aymeric included and all were shocked at the warmth they had entered. Once inside it was as if they were standing in said meadow the sun shining down a light breeze ruffling hair. It was as if they were transported back in time.

Aymeric made his way over to Lelulu his eyes wide in wonder, “Dear friend, how...pray tell have you done this?”

“She grinned back stating, “A little bit of botanical know how, a little bit of arcanima and a whole lot of glamour magics.”

“Glamours?” he asked his eyes wide in complete shock, “Tis as if we are actually standing in a highland meadow yet this is glamoured?”

She nodded emphatically, “Aye I have always had quite a bit of skill at getting them to be very realistic.” she then gave a sigh, “It was actually said realism that got me expelled from the Studium.”

“Well then their loss, is Ishgard’s gain,” He replied smiling down at her, “Thank you my friend and I swear this Garden shall be enjoyed by all of Ishgard.

#ffxiv #OC Lelulu Lulu #seaswolchallenge #origional story

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tsavo-witch · 4 years

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No one asked but: My thoughts on Ancestor Veneration

I appreciate this practice and find it beautiful, but so far cannot apply it to my practice. When I ponder my ancestors in the vein of ancestor veneration things get funky.

On the Maternal side it *seems* pretty straightforward overall. Aunt J did the family research that sparked the cross-country RV trip when I was a child. She traced us back to John Plantagenet (Not Robin Hood like the last name implied...and John had sooooo many children) which means I am related to Elenore of Aquitaine and Joanna from Here be Dragons.

On the Paternal side things are NOT. Grandma J can probably trace her side back for generations but is very closed mouth about information. Grandpa W is a 1-way street. He is here now and will share childhood stories...that is it. Then there’s the man (Mr. Flores is the name I am aware of) who I have pictures of from Grandma J. Mom said that Dad tried to find some information on him in Spain, but no info was discovered. If I asked grandma what his name was, she would likely tell me...but the info seems like it would cause her paid and I don’t know this person. Grandpa is my grandfather. This other man is just...bio-matter donor to me personally (Not in a bad way).

Now while the Maternal side has (or has been forthcoming) the information, I learned recently from mom that both Grandma D and Grandpa D both fled abusive families when they left Kansas. Grandpa W fled Jamaica during times of unrest (I’ve not pressed for details based on how ppl reacted while telling). That’s ¾ of my most immediate family cutting ties with their families and traditions.

Grandma D came from a German family

Grandpa D came from an... English line (Fun family tidbit about us being “Irish”)

Grandma J is more of a mutt, general western Europe (But it’s her the Native American came from, there’s a family story about someone who married a Blackfoot woman)

Grandpa W is Jamaican

Mr. Flores is Spanish (From Spain Spanish)

This both helps me and doesn’t help at all. I do not consider it appropriate for me (white, not raised culturally as anything but Protestant Christian) to practice traditions like root work or voodoo/Vodun. I myself am still vehemently against practicing magics related to Christ, the Christian God and/or Catholic practices due to personal preference. That leaves me with German and English craft heritages to draw from...and I’m less than inspired by either for the base of my practice.

I want a local practice; I want to use what is around me first rather than just buy supplies. The eclectic path called to me when I first started practicing, Pinterest introduced me to the title.. Learning about the facets of witchcraft, learning why one group does things the way they do, how they preform their ritual, what goes into their special recipes is fascinating for me. When I find a practice that calls to me (When I first started I did not know/understand much about cultural appropriation and closed cultures & religions, as such I’ve had to stop using some traditions and instead find or create others to use moving forward) I would research it, see why it was done (or item used in a particular way) and, if it still calls to me, I will then adapt it to fit my practice. This is how I got to call myself an eclectic (I still don’t like witch as the term for myself...but I don’t have a better one. It is accurate, but I don’t resonate with it fully.). I don’t love the term; I understand the issue with it...but am not sure where else to go noun wise.

This is an ancestor related ramble, so let’s get back to them. I don’t have any “well known” or famous relatives closer than the 1200’s. Family stories go back to my grandparents and STOP. I know more about the nuns that taught Grandma J’s school in Puerto Rico than I do about her parents. TBH Sister Mary-Doberman is more real to me than my own great-grandmother who gave Sister Mary the nickname. Grandma D’s family name is Buttermore (Buttermoor?)...and she was German.

Currently I’ve got 2 dead relatives I could consider venerating, my father and my aunt.

That’s all I’ve got. No info on great grandfathers from either side. From about 1200ad-1900ad I’ve got 0 known relatives (known to me)...and a lot happened during that 700 years. I might be able to ask family more details, but that’s a “Over the Holiday’s” problem, not one for now. Overall Ancestor worship is not something I currently practice, but I am always interested in the concept. I will keep exploring and poking at this area of work as life progresses.

#mine #witchblr #ancestor #ancestor veneration

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nunaya-business · 4 years

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Hi, Let’s Talk About Some Controversial Shit Yeah?

So lately people have been telling Horikoshi Kohei to go kill himself, because they’re trying to be a shitty version of Shane Dawson exploring conspiracy theories that have no right to exist. I don’t even know where to fucking start, but since I’m not a YouTuber, but I’m a writer, I decided to ditch my phone for this one, and am currently typing this shit out on my laptop. Yes, that is how pissed I am.

A new decade and a new start to the shittiness that was 2010-2020. More and more people of the LGBTQ started coming out of the dark and trying to accept who they are to the chagrin of assholes who have no business in their lives anyway. I feel like there’s been a lot more racism here than there was from 2000-2010, or maybe that’s just me. I think it’s because people are getting more vocal with their opinions as the earth goes to shit. We are slowly killing it after all. Not only is there more racism, sexism, anti-LGBTQ pricks, and people prejudice against other religions (the prejudice against Muslims is a big one. Poor Muslims, it’ll be okay, Brookie’s on your side), but there are now people who don’t like freedom of speech, or the right to write a story, and people who are just plain pussies because they don’t wike dere wittle feewings huwt 😥.

I could write for hours about all of those subjects. But since I’m an aspiring writer myself, I picked the right to write. What do I mean by that? I mean the right for an author of any kind to write their story, their way, without these little pussies coming around and being like, “bro can you not mention the Mongols breaking through the Great Wall of China? Yeah, because I’m from a Chinese family and I don’t want to be reminded of my ancestor’s tribulations even though it was 800 years ago. Thanks”. Let me break this shit down like I’m in debate class and my entire University grade depends on me winning this “argument”.

Writing is an art. Duh. People don’t write because they had a good life, I don’t care what anyone says. Writers write because it relieves stress, allows them to get their feelings out in a healthy way, take them away to their own little world in their own special way to escape the hell they’re living through, lets them vent the dark desires and thoughts they may have, and get their opinions out there when they feel like no one listens. Writing is a cure for depression for some people. It’s a healthy kind of drug that doesn’t make someone overdose (unless they’re like me and write’s for hours on end losing sleep and starving themselves just to write an idea down before they forget it).

People write about what they can’t speak. My mom has this saying “say it forget it, write it regret it”, and in certain contexts that saying is a good moral to have, but that’s not always the case. My mom and I watched the movie “Her” the other day and (spoilers) at the end of the movie, the main character Theodore, who’s a writer, writes a letter to his ex-wife. He writes about how they met, how they grew up together, how they grew to be the best of friends, then lovers, then built a trust they couldn’t replace, and the sorrow he felt when the relationship started crumbling. Joaquin Phoenix did an amazing job lamenting about the character’s past, most likely because he’s been through a lot too, and the character did an astounding job putting his words to paper (or in this case email) and getting out years of stress and sadness so that he can start loving life again.

The point of me describing that scene was to show the impact writing has on some people. It’s the escape they need and sometimes the emotions they feel put into a context where they can explain it all they want without having to waste a breath.

Now, picture if you will, that you’re a writer down on your luck. You have an amazing story to tell and the audience in mind that you want to tell it to, but no one believes in you. They want to alter your story to suit a wider audience, but, you don’t give a shit about appealing to people, you’re telling a story that helped you and may help others too, no matter the money you might lose or recognition you’ll never gain. Imagine that you found a way to both appeal to a wider audience and tell that story you have in your mind’s view. It gets more popular than most media to come out of your country and helps you bring in more than enough money you need to survive. Suddenly people are falling in love with the characters you wrote in more ways than one. People are starting to call it a modern classic and then, you start getting letters from people all around the world telling you how much your writings helped them and that they’re living better lives because they were inspired or motivated by the words you oh so carefully put onto a page, with the art you spent hours, upon days, upon weeks on opening people’s eyes to what they’re capable of.

I may have put some personal shit in that last paragraph, but I was mainly talking about the subject of this... (essay?) Horikoshi Kohei. A man who never gave up because dammit, he had a story to tell and fuck anyone who doesn’t want to hear it. All that matters to real writers is that someone feels special because of the words you put together on a page. Horikoshi puts a lot of time and effort into My Hero Academia, and what does his fans do? They tell him to kill himself because he dared wordplay to get the names of some characters. Y’know it’s funny, I don’t hear a lot of Jews, trans, gay, or Polish people complain about the shit their ancestors went through 70 years ago during the Holocaust like they went through it as well, but I always hear about Korean, Chinese, and Black people (off the top of my head don’t @ me) complain about shit their ancestors went through from 70 all the way back to a thousand years ago. Not to say that everyone in those races do that. because they don’t. I’m sure a majority probably doesn’t give two flying fucks what someone writes as long as they aren’t being personally targeted or threatened. But go on Horikoshi’s Twitter once and tell me that you don’t see hundreds of his followers (mostly Asian) threatening him and criticizing his naming of his characters. If you’re Korean or Chinese and you find issue with the fact that Horikoshi named a mother fucking villain character after a place where your specific race was tortured and experimented on, decades before were even fucking thought of, please tell me why. If you feel personally attacked then you’re... (I don’t wanna use retarded because people will automatically stop reading and DM me about my word choice) doltish. That’s a fancy word for stupid by the way. Maybe if it were one of the heroes named that way then I would completely understand, but it’s not. It’s a fucking villain.

But hey, what do I know? I’ve never been through shit. I’m just a plain, short and chubby little white girl with a big mouth that’s never been the victim of prejudice or racism. No one’s ever taken a look at me and judged me based on my ancestors or religious choices. No one’s ever made fun of my accent or the color of my skin, or the birth defect that effected my feet and slightly effected my hands.

Oh by the way, my mom’s a closet Psychopath that wasn’t diagnosed because the rest of the family is too fucking psycho for anyone to notice her torturing animals at a young age. My dad was a Paranoid Schizophrenic with an undiagnosed Psychosis and severe PTSD (diagnosed) that grew up in a home with an abusive father and a mother that was too busy grooming her oldest son (take that how you will) to pay any attention to him. Not to mention she also killed him. It’s not like my dad’s dad was also a psychopath that purposefully killed my unborn brother and laughed when my mom miscarried It’s not like my life was at risk because there was people shooting at my house (where I lived with my grandfather) and I could hear the bullets bouncing off of the trees. It’s not like I was bullied when I was little leading to a brain injury that caused my memory to be fucked up and my speech to slur and stutter. Oh and I definitely didn’t have to start being a second mom to my brother, and an actual mom to my little cousin because my family doesn’t give a fuck how their actions effect others.

I didn’t have the worst life by all means. There’s a lot more people that I know personally that have had it way worse than I have. I’m just saying, don’t take shit so fucking personally. Grow some goddamn balls and stop telling people to go kill themselves because they named a character something you didn’t like. Stop bringing up shit from the past unless people ask about it, or you’re telling you life story. It’s 2020. It’s time to stop being pussies and act like functioning members of society.

Oh and one last thing. Ya’ll are telling a man to kill himself while the corona virus is spreading like the plague. I think we should be more fucking worried about the fact that humanity could easily be wiped out thanks to the Chinese government silencing a scientist who know about the damn virus a year ago. If anything, we should be targeting them and Trump for being awful, not a poor mangaka that was just word playing with the names of his characters.

#fuck this shit im out #horikoshi kohei #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #corona virus #shane dawson #japan #china #south korea #her #jaoquin phoenix #im taggin all this shit so people see this #go i hope it works #i spent an hour just typing this shit #rant over #*mic drop*

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parkhabits · 6 years

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Crescent Bound {M} - Yoongi

Min Yoongi x Reader Genre: Werewolf AU / Smut Word Count: 8,567 Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content

Crescent Bound Masterlist | Jungkook | Yoongi | Jimin

Min Yoongi always had a temper. His patience easily wore thin and even the little things would set him off. Countless of times in his pubescent years he found himself being escorted to the principal’s office for misbehaviour or lashing out. He never understood why he always felt this lingering rage and anger bottled up within. On top of that there was always this persistent heat that radiated from his body. At times he felt like his blood was actually boiling. His childhood friend would tease him, saying the unexplainable warmth of his body coincided with his hot temper.

Then one night, he woke up when his body went into a sudden frenzy of uncontrollable heat. He writhed in pain while grasping onto his wrist. It felt like a hot branding iron was being pressed onto his skin, but there was no one, there was nothing. In a panic he reached over to his nightstand, flicking on the light to see the cause of the agonizing pain. When he pulled his opposite hand away his eyes widened in shock as he saw the raised reddened edges of a crescent moon appearing beneath his fingertips. It didn’t end there. His body shook, he couldn’t help but cry out in pain. At the sounds of his shouts his parents bursted into the room. Yoongi looked up at them and the minute he did his mother gasped, covering her mouth as she stared at him. His father immediately leaving her side. The pain that radiated throughout his body made their words incoherent. He couldn’t focus on anything they were saying, everything muffled as his ears rang and his vision blurred. His opposite hand still holding pressure on the mysterious marking that had made its appearance. Just before he passed out from the excruciating pain he saw two tall figures walk into the room before things went black.

That night and the next few days after, he found out he was a werewolf. Bound to the moon. A very important detail in his life that his parents held from him until he transitioned.Tales of his ancestors and his generation were told to him. It was now three years since his transition. The third member to have joined the crescent pack but certainly not the last. There were four others after him. In fact, it had just been a little less than a year since the youngest and most recent member joined. Though he had a sure feeling that Jungkook would be the last. Oddly, with the seven of them it felt complete. Through the years he had learned and discovered much about himself. He tried to use the excuse that he was werewolf to explain his hot headed temperament though he could never really admit it outloud to anyone outside of the pack. However, the rest of the pack members didn’t seem to have an “anger management” issue like he had. It was Namjoon, the leader of the pack, that taught Yoongi to control his anger, even suppress it. The first few months, were a struggle. Countless times he had shifted into his primal form. Almost causing harm to others or had been close to exposing their supernatural identity.

He tried to avoid things that triggered him and spent a vast majority of his time trying to stay in control of his temperament. If it wasn’t for Namjoon and the rest of the pack members he could only imagine what kind of trouble he could get himself into. The amount of close calls had been too many to count. It’s why he never bothered to associate with anyone else. Better safe than sorry. As long as he had at least one pack member by his side he’d be okay.

Normally he would have classes with Jin. The oldest pack member who was in the same year, but to his dismay he had every class with him except for one. Everything was managing fine, he kept to himself and didn’t care for anyone else in the class. Didn’t bother socializing and always opted to work on assignments alone even if though there was an option to work in pairs. That’s the way he preferred it. He was the literal definition of a ��lone wolf” in that class.

He came to class just like any other day. Bag slung over his shoulder as he proceeded to sit in his usual spot at the back of the class. Instantly slouching deep into the chair, crossing his arms and closing his eyes, doing his best to block out the frivolous sounds of his classmates around him. If there was one thing he disliked that came with being a werewolf was the fact that he could hear everything. The whispered conversations that weren’t so hushed to his ears, the littlest sounds of someone fidgeting with their pen, sometimes even the sounds of their breathing during tests when the room fell silent. Sounds were sometimes the reason he grew so irritated, he disliked too much noise. With a sigh and already feeling the annoyance of the rambunctious teenagers around him, Yoongi reached into his pocket to pull out his headphones. He was just about to put the second earpod in when he heard your voice.

He didn’t know what it was about you. The minute he heard you introduce yourself to the professor he looked up. Maybe it was the frequencies of your voice that caught his attention or the soft honeyed tone of it. Whatever it was about you, had grabbed his attention.

Being a transfer student in the middle of the term was no one’s ideal choice but you didn’t expect your mom to be reassigned to another city. Leaving everything behind to start anew. Not that you really had anything to leave behind, there was no dramatic goodbye between friends, it was more between you and your teachers. Maybe this time would be different, this time you’d try and branch out of your little academic bubble and create a social life, friendships, maybe even find love.

When Min Yoongi walked into the classroom, his backpack slung over his shoulder and his usual impassive demeanour you couldn’t help but have your eyes follow him. Going as far as glancing over your shoulder as he took to his usual desk at the back corner of the room. The first time you met Yoongi was your very first day of school. Lost in the overwhelming feeling of unfamiliar faces and hallways, someone accidentally ran into you, your transfer papers and schedules all falling to the ground.

“Damn it,” you huffed as you knelt to pick them up.

“The least that idiot could have done was say sorry.” A voiced muttered, you looked up as the dark haired boy crouched in front of you. His brows furrowed as he helped pick up the remaining sheets of scattered paper.

“Thanks,” you said as you took the sheets from him.

He didn’t say anything in return. Didn’t even smile in acknowledgment. He shoved his hands in his two front pockets as he walked away, joining a group of other guys who stood by. Unsure as to why all of their attention focused on him and your brief encounter.

It didn’t take much long after to learn his name and inevitably figure out that Min Yoongi only associated within his specific group. In the one class you two shared together he always sat in the back, arms crossed and eyes closed. He never spoke unless called upon and when he did speak you were amazed at how intelligent he was. For a guy who seemed to be sleeping majority of the time he always gave the correct answer, even answering more in depth than need be. His tone always matched his expression, indifferent. It could have even come across as stuck up. Yet you didn’t know why after that one very brief encounter with him, you became intrigued and drawn to him.

“Don’t even bother with him,”

“Hmm?” Your attention shifted away from Yoongi who sat leaned back in his chair in the midst of the cafeteria with the six other guys.

Yuri leaned forward across the table. “Min Yoongi. You’ve been staring at him for the past five minutes,”

“I- I wasn’t staring,” you flushed.

Yuri laughed, “Fine, I’ll correct myself. I meant to say drooling,” she glanced over her shoulder to look at the seven boys. “I can’t blame you though. All seven of them are gorgeous and apparently too good for anyone else,”

“What do you mean?” you asked pushing your lunch tray away from you, more intrigued to finally talk about them than you were the slop in front of you.

“Haven’t you noticed? They only stick to themselves, Min Yoongi especially.” Yuri brushed her hair away from her shoulders. “Rumors say that they’re all part of a gang or a cult,” she whispered in quiet tones.

You glanced towards Yoongi again. He laughed with the rest of the guys, eyes lighting up as the guy named Hoseok held spoons to his eyes for some strange apparent reason. Yoongi rarely ever smiled around anyone else but you watched him grin, smacking Hoseok on the shoulder.

“Anyways, don’t set your heart on him,” Yuri says “Your chances are slim to none,”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you shrugged. When you looked up one more time to steal just one last glance your eyes met his and lingered. The color rose to your cheeks and you quickly broke eye contact glancing over your shoulder to see if Yoongi was looking at someone else but he wasn’t. He was looking at you.

You never had difficulty paying attention in class, until now. Your thoughts kept lingering to Yoongi and the brief moment in the cafeteria. Were you imagining things? You were being ridiculous, maybe he was staring off into space and it just happened to be in your direction. No matter the reason, you had to fight every nerve in your body that wanted you to turn around and look back towards the desk where he sat. At the same time, you couldn’t get over the strange feeling that he was looking at you at this very moment. The tingling feeling at the back of your neck under what may be his watchful gaze. When the bell rung and you turned to put your books in your bag you quickly glanced towards his direction but he was already gone.

The diner was the local hangout spot. The place where everyone seemed to loiter around in between breaks and after classes. Everyone had their spot, bandies would be by the old school jukebox, cheerleaders and jocks at the back corner, the booth closest to the door was where Min Yoongi and the rest of his crew hung out. What you had come to learn was that other people from different cliques would sometimes interact with each other, but no one interacted with the seven guys and vice versa.

They didn’t come across as hostile or unfriendly. Most of the time they laughed amongst themselves, acting like the typical guys your age. Yet there was something that made them stand out from everyone else.

“Come on Y/N, come join us over here!” Yuri called from the table she sat at.

You smiled, pointing to your laptop on the counter. After moving to your new house your mom decided that it was best to get renovations done before everything got unpacked. Therefore considering you didn’t have a desk let alone a kitchen table, you tried your best to get as much assignments done as you could while at the diner.

The sound of Yoongi’s name being chanted behind you caught your attention. When you looked over your shoulder you saw the six boys laughing, ruffling his hair and pushing his body. You saw the smile tug at his lips, though his arms remained crossed as he tried to maintain his composure. Yet the boys kept hounding him until you finally heard him let out a breathy chuckle.

“Alright alright fine,” he laughed getting up from the booth, putting the blonde haired boy beside him into a quick headlock before leaving the table.

You tried to turn your attention back to the homework in front of you until Yoongi approached the cash register beside you. You couldn’t help but side glance towards him, watching as he reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. As he did so you caught sight of a faint scar, shaped like a crescent moon on his wrist as he handed some cash.

“Is that the source analysis paper you’re working on?”

It was a simple question that only needed a simple answer, one that you could have easily responded to either by saying “yes” or nodding your head in acknowledgement. The fact that it was Min Yoongi asking the question, unexpectedly and completely out of the blue was what had your mind completely turn into mush, losing any ability to formulate a simple response.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to glance at your laptop screen,” Yoongi said scratching the back of his neck. Internally he cursed himself, unsure as to why he all of a sudden asked.

You shook your head, waving your hands to brush off his comments, “No it’s totally fine.” You pointed back to your laptop screen, “Yes, I’m working on the source analysis paper.” you finally managed to say.

It was silent between you two. Yoongi buried his hands into his pocket as he began to rock back and forth on his heels. You began to tap your finger against the counter beside you thinking of something else to say to him.

“I’m Y/N by the way,” you smiled reaching out your hand.

“I know,” Yoongi said, his hands remaining in his pocket. He felt the warmth of his hands radiating against the denim fabric of his jeans. He knew it came across as rude but the unnatural warmth of body wasn’t something he liked explaining to others and he didn’t want to come across as weird.

“Is our Yoongi bothering you?” A dark haired boy teased and wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s neck.

“Tae…” Yoongi sighed.

“Not at all,” you smiled, pushing past the faint humiliation of a rejected handshake.

“Well I don’t mean to interrupt but we’re heading out. Unless Yoongi you’d like to stay and chat with…”

“Y/N,” you finished his sentence.

“Unless you’d like to stay and chat with Y/N,” Tae wiggled his eyebrows, giving Yoongi a little nudge.

Yoongi closed his eyes, “I swear to god Tae. I’ll see you around Y/N,” Yoongi said, grabbing Tae by the back of his neck and walking off to meet the rest of the boys who stood lingering by the doorway. All eyes focusing on Yoongi.

At night you laid in bed, replaying the encounter with Yoongi in your head. Analyzing every small detail of that brief interaction. He approached you first. You didn’t think much of the fact that he didn’t shake hands with you. In the darkness of your room you thought back on all the other moments with Yoongi. Was it just a coincidence that you two made eye contact in the cafeteria or that strange feeling that he was looking at you in class? The short interaction in the diner was that him being nice? Perhaps you were over analyzing everything because you never saw Yoongi talk to anyone else that wasn’t part of his clique. Your eyelids grew heavy though your thoughts ran free. The last thing you that came to mind before you dozed off was Yuri’s voice.

“Your chances are slim to none.”

You were never a fan of partner work. Though it wasn’t because of the actual work itself and the issues of dividing it up. It was the fact that whenever partner work was an option, you never paired up with anyone but that hadn’t been your choice. You never took the time to get to know any of your classmates, always focusing on your academics that eventually you became the loner in class.

“You can pair up or work individually. I’ll give you all a few minutes to decide,”

You flipped through the textbook searching for topics that you could work on individually.

“Hey Y/N, who are you working with?” Jackson was part of the basketball team. A popular guy amongst the student body, especially amongst the ladies. He pulled a chair in front of you, straddling it as he rested his arms across the back. “I was wondering if you want to work together?”

“Oh um-”

“We can work at the project at my house, maybe use this as an opportunity to get to know each other better while we’re at it,” he pushed.

“Y/N will be working with me.”

You recognized the voice that hovered over you and the widened eyed expression on Jackson’s face as he looked past your shoulders confirmed it. Yoongi stood behind you, arms crossed as he eyed Jackson evenly. Even the rest of the class fell silent, your peers glancing back and forth from each other.

“You’re working with Yoongi?” Jackson raised his eyebrows.

“She is. Problem?” Yoongi answered before you could say anything.

Jackson stood up meeting Yoongi’s gaze, “I’ll catch you later Y/N,”

You glanced around, the rest of the class just as taken aback as you. Yoongi pulled out a chair and sat beside you.

“I’m okay with working by myself,” you stated blushing under the watchful gazes of your classmates.

Yoongi side glanced at you, “You don’t want to work together?”

“No it’s not that it’s just…” The only excuse you had was to tell him that you’d be too distracted by his presence to actually focus on the project. Obviously, you kept that to yourself. “Never mind,” you sighed.

Yoongi studied you for a minute, “Sorry I guess I didn’t really ask if we could be partners.”

“No it’s fine,” you smiled. You started flipping through the book, “So mythical creatures. Any suggestions?”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” he shrugged.

You flipped through the pages, “Fairies?” Yoongi scrunched his face. “Okay, how about werewolves?”

“No.” His voice tight, his brows furrowing as his mouth drew into a tight line.

“Why not? They seem pretty straight forward. How different can they be from a dog?” You chuckled.

The loud sound of crashing startled you and those around as Yoongi jerked up from the chair, pushing at the tables in front of him. He didn’t even say anything as he pushed through your classmates and left the room. You sat there gaping after him, confused as to what just happened. Did you offend him or was he that strongly opposed about choosing the topic of werewolves?

Later that afternoon you sat at the counter of the diner again. Flipping through the pages of the books you got from the library about werewolves, jotting down notes into your notebook and flagging pages that had interesting facts. After Yoongi’s strange outburst you assumed you were back to doing this assignment solo. Though you wondered what you did to upset Yoongi so much.

“She’s over there. You can go and apologize now.” Hoseok nudged Yoongi.

Yoongi sighed, “I should just stay away from her. It’d be better that way. Look how easily I lost my temper.” ��

“To defend you she did compare us to a dog,” Jimin laughed.

“I’m surprised you even offered to be partners with her. You don’t even want to be partners with me.” Jin said shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.

“I don’t know why I did. I just overheard Jackson asking to be partners and all of a sudden I’m standing there saying that I’m her partner,” Yoongi rubbed his hands over his face.

“Someone is smitten,” Taehyung teased, clutching his hands over his chest and teasing Yoongi.

“Shut up Tae,” Yoongi rolled his eyes, glancing over to where you sat at the counter. He didn’t know what it was about you. Part of him was annoyed at you. He was aware of your presence every time you entered the room. He could pick out the sound of your voice amongst the busy hallways. He knew he should have just let it be, let you be and treat you like he did everyone else. Ignoring them and keeping to himself, but he couldn’t.

“Hi,” Yoongi said taking the stool beside you.

“Hi.” Though your heart fluttered you kept face, barely glancing his way as you continued to write in your notebook.

Yoongi winced at the cold tone in your voice. “I want to apologize for acting the way I did earlier and I’d still like to be your partner if that’s alright with you.”

You set down your pencil folding your arms over your chest, “So what was it?”

“What was what?” He raised his eyebrow.

“The reason behind your little scene. I mean, do you really hate werewolves that much? Or if you had another topic in mind you could have just said so,” you glared.

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck, “No it’s not that. Werewolves are cool,”

“So then what?”

The only thing he could think of was to be honest. No matter how strange it sounded. “I uh.. I didn’t like how you said they were like dogs,”

A few seconds passed as you stared at him before a smile tugged at your lips and you burst out laughing. The sound of it catching Yoongi off guard. You didn’t make any comment about it. Just continued to laugh as you pushed the textbooks towards him.

“I already started,” you said resuming to pick up your pen and writing again. Yoongi smiled as he started flipping through the pages.

You weren’t the only one who found it strange that Yoongi was working with you. You’d catch the watchful stares when he sat beside you during class, or hear the hushed murmuring from others while you sat at the diner. No one, could fathom that Yoongi had partnered up with the new transfer student. At least that’s what Yuri told you the next day when she came running up to you in the hall.

“It’s really not a big deal. We’re just partners,” you shrugged as you gathered your books.

“But Yoongi never partners up with anyone. Heck, he never talks to anyone besides his own group of friends. This is a big deal Y/N,” Yuri said with hopeful eyes walking with you to your classroom. “He lives in Namjoon’s mansion. Maybe you’ll get a chance to see it,” she winked at you.

Just then Yoongi walked past you two, backpack slung over his shoulder. You smiled at him, but there was no greeting from him, he barely even glanced your way.

Yuri looked at you, “Or not. I thought you guys were supposed to be friends.”

You rolled your eyes “I told you. We’re just partners,” but couldn’t deny the slight disappointment you felt.

It annoyed him. Their watchful eyes, hearing their conversations every time he walked into the diner with you. All he wanted to do was work on the project in peace but he couldn’t. He hated when the attention was drawn to him and it seemed like every time he tried to interact with you he was being harassed under watchful gazes. The pack loved to tease him and various times he got into a scrap with Taehyung and Jimin before Namjoon and the others stepped in. The shortness of his temper worsened when he came close to heat. The members knew to steer clear of him when it was his cycle. Except, he didn’t know what it was about you that had his temper always fired up. Jealousy, was a natural human feeling everyone experiences, but for wolves it’s different. Just like all other types of senses and emotions that type of feeling is heightened. A possessive claim that would be intolerable to those who weren’t already capable of handling that emotion. He wouldn’t call what he felt for you possessive because you weren’t his to begin with, but it was hella close.

“You okay?” Jungkook placed a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. He followed Yoongi’s gaze to where you stood by the lockers with Chanyeol the class representative leaning against it talking to you. Jungkook smiled, though he was the last of the pack members to transition, he had been the first to find his mate. He had been all too familiar with what Yoongi was probably experiencing right now. “The new transfer student seems to be popular amongst the guys. She’s the one Tae and Jimin keep talking about right? The one that has the nice-“ Yoongi slammed the locker shut, interrupting him before he could finish his sentence. Jungkook smirked, placing a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, his reaction only confirmed his notions. This was only the beginning, as someone who had went through it before Jungkook knew, Yoongi was in for a long ride.

Yoongi knew he shouldn’t be doing this. It was too risky but he had reached the final straw. He lived with the rest of the pack in Namjoon’s manor which he inherited from his great grandfather. Bringing you to a house full of werewolves wasn’t his ideal option, but he was left with no other choice. He already warned the rest of the pack to lay low whenever you were around, Jimin and Taehyung especially. He couldn’t wait until the project was over. One, because he was sick of pretending to be fascinated by the false facts and overly romanticized notions of werewolves and two because you were driving him to the peak of insanity. If he trusted being downstairs without Taehyung and Jimin harassing the two of you then you two would be at the kitchen table instead of in the confined space of his room. Where every now and again your shoulder would brush against his and the sweet scent of your perfume filled the air and lingered after you left.

“And done,” you sighed, stretching your neck from side to side. You glanced at Yoongi whose eyes remained on his own screen. His room suited him, plain but with dark furniture to accentuate the room. There was a keyboard but you were too shy to ask if he played so you just assumed. Finishing the project was bittersweet. Solely because you wondered if it meant the end of you and Yoongi’s interactions. You didn’t know whether or not you were friends or you two would part ways. Back to strangers who would just pass each other in the hallway, barely glancing each other’s way in class thought that was more Yoongi than you. The thought of it being like that panicked you.

“Hey how about we celebrate tonight for being done and all.” You suggested. Yoongi looked up from his screen, “Jackson is throwing a party tonight. You and I should go,” It would be your very first house party experience and you figured you could hit two birds with one stone. Experience the typical highschool Friday night while also spending more time with him that didn’t involve books.

“No thanks.” He immediately rejected “I don’t like loud music and people annoy me,”

“I see,” you nodded, feeling shot down. You started to pack up your bag, “I guess I’ll see you in class,”

Yoongi should have suggested that you two do something else. He should have asked you to stay a bit longer and hang out. But he didn’t and regretted it the minute he was left alone in his room.

It wasn’t as fun as you thought it would be. Definitely not how the movies and tv shows portrayed it. But maybe that’s because you kept thinking of Yoongi and how you wished he was here. You could have easily used the excuse that you were drinking to celebrate being done your project but that wasn’t the case. You were drinking the pain of Min Yoongi’s rejection away though you knew you shouldn’t have taken it personally. You shouldn’t be disappointed that he didn’t agree to come knowing full well he doesn’t interact with anyone else, but you were. If Yoongi wanted to be antisocial then so be it. You had made it a pact to yourself that you wouldn’t be that way. Yet you stayed against the wall sipping at the lukewarm contents of the solo cup someone handed you on your way in. Watching as other people participated in the usual drinking games or dance in the small spaces of the packed house, loud music and indistinct chattering surrounding you.

The alcohol must have been stronger than you thought as you squinted at the figures that walked into the door. You must have been tipsy because you were hallucinating that Yoongi walked through the door, Taehyung and Jimin following in tow. It wasn’t until you looked around and realized that other people saw what you were seeing. Everyone just as equally shocked as you were. Yoongi was here and as his eyes met yours from across the room your heart fluttered in your chest though his face seemed unamused.

He shouldn’t have mentioned it to Jimin and Taehyung that you had asked him to the party. Due to the fact that he didn’t keep his mouth shut and keep the wallowing to himself they had been very persuasive to get him to come. Though their persuasion was mainly for the benefit of themselves also giving them a reason to go and experience what “normal” humans do. The tip of the sword was when Taehyung laid out all of the unpleasant scenarios that could potentially occur because he wasn’t with you.

“Imagine Y/N, getting drunk and having all those horny teenage boys taking advantage of her.”

He imagined it. In fact, he couldn’t stop himself from ruminating over various scenarios that could potentially occur. From having a guy all over you to finding your way home drunk with the chance of passing out along the roadway, all of those unseemly yet highly possible scenarios were the driving reason he ended up here. And all of them had him seething. Though none of them had occurred he was already annoyed, his temper melting the tip of the iceberg that had him entering deep into a place filled with the stench of alcohol and loud rambunctious teenagers. His blood started to boil the minute he laid eyes on you for various reasons. First because it was you that made him come here. Second was due to the fact that he realized he developed feelings for you. Third was because at this very moment Jackson had you pressed up against the wall. Lastly at the most inconvenient time, his heat cycle began.

It was all a blur. From where he stood by the entrance of the door to where you stood with Jackson. In less than a few quick strides Yoongi was pulling Jackson by the shoulders. Acting on instinct driven by lust, Jackson had his hands on what was his. You stared up at Yoongi wide eyed.

“Yoongi,” your voice was distant as he gripped Jackson by the collar and from the corner of his golden gaze he saw your shocked expression.

It wasn’t long before Jimin and Taehyung were flanking Yoongi’s side. A worried expression on both their faces.

“Let him go,” Jimin barked.

He only tightened his grip, a low growl reverberating at the back of his throat.

“What the hell man,” Jackson choked.

Reluctantly Yoongi let him go, shoving him backwards. “She’s mine,” he said pressing his finger into Jackson’s chest.

Before anyone could say anything Yoongi grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from everyone else and leading you upstairs and away from the party area.

It wasn’t the warmth of his hand that burned hot against your skin as he gripped your wrist that caught your attention. He was staring at you with golden iris’ yet that wasn’t what surprised you. It was the gaze behind it that entailed something dark and lustful. Your hands balled into fists at your sides as he stepped towards you, licking his lips as he backed you into the wall.

“Should I mark you right here,” His voice was a low, dark whisper. “Right now?” Yoongi’s mouth hovered inches away from yours.The gaze from his hazel eyes bore into you.

“What do you mea-” Your question was cut off by his lips.

Yoongi could feel the heat radiate through his body, circling to his core. A low growl reverberated in the back of his throat as your lips parted in response. Granting him more access in which he graciously took in an aggressive and frenzied kiss. Pressing you against the wall with his body, his hands gripping your waist. The sounds of the party downstairs grew distant, replaced only with the sounds of the low moans that escaped both of you. Every moan and whimper that escaped between your breaths, Yoongi greedily took. Relishing in the feeling of the warmth of your lips, the taste that he wanted to continue to savor for as long as he could. If only the heat didn’t drive him to take hungrily. Yet the need for you was never ending, only stoking the fire that burned for you instead of soothe. As if the taste of you wasn’t enough to send him off the edge, the scent of your arousal created an even bigger lust for you. You quivered when his hand made his way between your legs, his fingers tracing along the laced that covered your core. His other hand hiking up your skirt higher.

“Jesus, you’re so wet.” Yoongi breathed, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. “Do you like this baby?” You nodded your head in response, biting at your swollen bottom lip. When his fingers pushed past the lace barrier between your wet folds you moaned his name, your head falling back against the wall as your hands gripped his shoulders for support. “What about when I do this, do you like this?” He asked, his voice primal. You moaned in response as his thumb began circling your clit.

He couldn’t help but smirk in response as your breath hitched with each movement against your bundle of nerves. Both of you cursed when Yoongi’s fingers entered you. You were so warm and tight around his fingers, he could only imagine the way you’d feel wrapped around him. His cock twitched in response to that thought, growing harder and straining against the denim fabric of his jeans. With every pump of his fingers into you, the heat within him built. His body pining for some form of release, yet he remained patient. He knew very well that as long as he was in heat his hunger for pleasure wouldn’t end until his cycle was over. At this very moment he had his fingers curling into the only one who could even possibly subdue his need, the only one he wanted. It would be so easy to mark you, make you his and show everybody exactly who you belonged to. His mouth came down hard on yours again, pumping his fingers in and out of you as the sounds of the music and lively party downstairs were filtered out by your moans in the dimly lit hallway.

You whimpered, your walls tightening around his fingers. Using him as support as you start grinding against them. He barely hears you moan his name, lost in his own frenzy and the heat that was controlling his very actions. When you moaned again, your head tilting back against the wall, Yoongi’s mouth moved to your jugular. Sucking and planting kisses until he made his way to the crook of your neck. Yoongi wanted to mark you his. His canines just barely coming in contact with your soft skin. Mine. The words were loud in his head. Mine, his thoughts screamed as his tongue traced the crook of your neck. Mine, the words repeated as his canines came in contact with your flesh.

“Yoongi,” you cried out as you hit the pinnacle of your orgasm, becoming a hot mess into his palm.

In that brief moment as you moaned out his name and in the midst of the heated passion, Yoongi was hit with the realization of his actions. It took everything to pull away from you. You stared up at him with dazed eyes and flushed cheeks from your climax. He glanced at your neck where he had come close to marking you. So close to binding himself to you. You didn’t know who he was, what he was capable of doing. If he ever lost his temper around you, ever came close to hurting you and showing you the side of him that only his pack members have seen, his transitioned phase. Could he risk that? An even bigger question, would you accept him, would you still want him if you knew that he was the mythical creature you two had spent weeks researching. The heat in his body urged him to continue but he couldn’t.

“Yoongi?” you reached out to him but he took a step back. If you touched him, if he tasted your lips again. The little ounce of control he was holding onto would snap and he didn’t know if he would be able to control himself. He wanted to take, ravage your body and render everything about you his. He knew that even without the heat his feelings would still remain the same. Now you stared up at him eyes glossed, lips swollen, the smell of your sweet arousal intoxicating his senses. Should he tell you? Have you think he’s either crazy or even run off afraid because he’s a beast. Should he hope that you were drunk enough to forget that this was all happening.

“Yoongi,”

Both your attentions turned to Taehyung who crept up the stairs. He already called Namjoon, the rest of the pack waited outside in case Yoongi came unwillingly or another encounter with Jackson happened. Taehyung stepped towards both of you hesitantly, both hands up as a sign of peace. He knew what it was like to get interrupted in the middle of heat, especially if you were in the midst of relieving that heat. Taehyung braced himself when Yoongi walked towards him.

“Take Y/N home,” Yoongi huffed, pushing past Taehyung. “Directly home.” he glared over his shoulder before heading downstairs, leaving you behind.

Since transitioning Yoongi had went through multiple heat cycles. This by far was the worst he ever experienced. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t have any normal thought process that didn’t revolve around you. Throughout the hours of the day he was awake he would ruminate over what it was like kissing you, your warmth around his fingers and the scent of you. At night when he tried to sleep was worse, your voice calling his name as you climaxed haunted him. If he managed to fall asleep then his dreams consisted of him fucking you. It felt like there was no bitter end to this damned cycle.

Yoongi ignored the knock on his door. He kept himself cooped up in his room staring at the ceiling as he waited out the end of his heat, luckily chains were unneccesary. Another faint knock and he hoped that whichever pack member it was got the hint that he wasn’t in the mood to be bothered.

“Listen Jimin if you knock one more time I’ll kick your ass. Leave me alone,” Yoongi groaned.

“It’s not Jimin,” your voice echoed from the door.

Yoongi sat up straight your honeyed voice instantly sending an urge of desire through his system. Yet he didn’t know if it was his heat setting delusions of you once again. Even as you opened the door and entered his room Yoongi couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Hoseok let me in,” you stated, “I wanted to talk to you at school but you’ve been sick?” You raised your eyebrows.

Yoongi cleared his throat, “Yeah. You should leave Y/N. It’s contagious,” he fidgeted. The sight of you alone even in just denim shorts and a tee had him yearning for you. His body reacting to your presence. Internally he cursed at the bulge that started to form in his pants.

You turned and shut his door. Turning back to face him, brows furrowed and a frown on your face. Yoongi swore again, now he was boxed in with you.

“You really shouldn’t be here Y/N,” Yoongi spoke through gritted teeth.

“Why because you’re a werewolf?”

If it weren’t for the bruises on your hips you would have thought that night never happened, that you had drank too much or even worse had been drugged and out of your mind. It didn’t make sense at first. It was as if you could still feel how hot his palms were against you. If it weren’t for the dreams you had of him, with his golden eyes and the snarl of his teeth waking you up in a cold sweat you may not have pieced things together. After pouring over the mythical creatures books you still had lying around from your project the only thing left to do was confirm your notions.

“You’re in heat aren’t you?” You questioned. You saw the glint in Yoongi’s golden eyes and took his silence as an invitation to step forward. “If you aren’t going to admit it then can you tell me that I’m being crazy or tell me that we didn’t kiss.” You let out a frustrated sigh, running your hands through your hair “I feel like I’m going crazy,”

Yoongi stood up from his bed and walked across his room to you. He hesitantly reached to brush the hair away from your face, before placing his hands on your cheeks. The warmth of his hands just like from the night before. “You aren’t crazy and I did kiss you.” Yoongi leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours. “Just like this.” Your lips felt the same as the night of the party soft, subtle. You didn’t even stiffen, not even when you had your suspicions about him. Instead you yielded against him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him back.

He tugged lightly at your bottom lip before pulling away to look at you. “You know what I am.” His heart pounded against his chest and if he listened closely enough he could hear yours as well. “Are you afraid?” He asked looking into your eyes.

You shook your head, “I’m only afraid that you don’t want me as much as I want you,”

“Believe me sweetheart. I want you more than anything else right now,” Yoongi smiled before closing the distance between your lips again.

This time his kiss differed. It wasn’t gentle but filled with the urge to show you how much he wanted you. How much he needed you to dwindle the heat that ran through his body. He caressed over the curves of your body as he kissed you. Your waist to your hips before he moved to squeeze your ass, bringing you closer to press against him; Where you already felt his arousal hard against your thigh. His breath hitches as you take initiative, your hand making its way to the waistband of his sweatpants. He doesn’t break away from the kiss. He bites down on your bottom lip with a low growl forming in the back of his throat as your hand wraps around his cock, fully hardened under your palm. The full length of him had you in awe with every stroke of your hand. Although you knew he was a werewolf far more stronger than you could ever be capable of, you felt control as he shuddered under the work of your palm. In reciprocation Yoongi’s hands moved from your ass to unzip your shorts, bringing them down until they pooled at your feet. The familiar aroma of your arousal had him already knowing you were wet without him even touching you yet. His fingers traced along your slit confirming his notions.

“Yoongi,” you rasped as his fingers slid under your panties, collecting your arousal and gliding over your clit. He didn’t care if his pack members heard. He loved the sound of it. The way you moaned his name and alongside that the sound of how wet you were everytime his fingers thrusted into your core. Your hand still continued to stroke his cock, your thumb grazing against his tip.

Yoongi pulled away from you, “I need to fuck you y/n,” His heat was driving him to the edge. The only thing that kept him clinging to his sanity was the fear that he could hurt you.

“Fuck me then,” you dared, your voice unshaking as you stared into his golden eyes.

“Get on the bed,” he commanded.

You didn’t hesitate, following his instructions and getting on his bed and onto your knees. You studied it in your books, werewolves could mate like humans or their primal forms however given the fact that Yoongi was in heat you figured he’d prefer it if he mounted you. You positioned yourself on all fours and rested against your elbows, raising your posterior to present yourself to him hoping to please. You glanced over your shoulder, finding satisfaction from the way his gaze lingered over you immensely, his pupils dilating in response. His fingers intertwined with the waistband of your panties pulling them down and off of you. The weight of the bed shifted behind you, the heat of his hands caressing your hips and squeezing your ass.

“As much as I’m appreciating this view, love. I prefer to see your face while I fuck you,” Yoongi said as he quickly maneuvered you and flipped you onto your back. He parted your legs, using his knees to hold them spread as he leaned over you. Your eyes dropped to his crotch as he pulled his sweats down. Though you had an idea of what to expect after stroking him, the full sight of him still had you in awe and aching in your core to feel him fill you. His hand slid up your shirt, hot against your bare skin. He only showed you a taste of his strength as he ripped the rest of your garments away, your naked body exposed. His gaze raked over you in adoration.

“You’re going to make such a beautiful mate,” he cooed. His hands exploring the curves of your body, causing you to shiver under his touch.

You wiggled underneath him his words adding to your arousal. “Yoongi,” you moaned as you felt his cock align with your entrance.

“So tight. You haven’t been with anyone else have you?” He rasped.

“You’re my first,” You breathed as you felt Yoongi slowly push in you. Gripping the sheets beneath you as you felt the head of his cock begin to stretch you.

“And I’ll be your only,” Yoongi said through gritted teeth, feeling himself stretch out your warm walls inch by inch.

“Oh fuck!” you cried, arching against him when you felt him bottom out in you.

He kept still while inside you, wrapping his arms around you to soothe you until he felt you finally relax. Once he was sure you were accustomed to the feeling of him within you he began to move. Rolling his hips into you, slowly at first then again, increasing the pace gradually. You took each thrust of him inside you so well that it fascinated him. The way your walls clenched around him was as if you were made to take his cock and be his mate. His mouth moved to your encompass your nipple, his canines grazing against your aroused buds that sent the electrifying waves of pleasure throughout your body. He hiked your hips up higher so he could fuck deeper, harder.

You tried to be quiet, for the rest of his pack members whom you saw downstairs but you couldn’t choke back the moans as Yoongi thrusted deep in you. Lewd sounds escaped with every plunge inside you and you tried to hold on as long as you could. Yet he looked unphased, barely a droplet of sweat forming on his brows. Yoongi had mentioned the word mate more than once. You knew what it entailed from your research. In the midst of his heat, werewolves let their primal instincts take over he was taking care of you, in control of his own actions. His whole-being showing you what it is like to be his. His mouth exploring and claiming every inch of your skin. The warmth of his hands coaxing you while his cock continued to bring you sheer amounts of pleasure. Then you feel it, right as his mouth comes in contact with the crevice of your neck. The spot in which Yoongi seemed to enjoy lingering the most. The low growl in the back of his throat, the graze of his canines along your skin. It wasn’t painful, warmth consumed you. He marks you, claiming you his and he to you. Your vision freckles and for the brief moment as his canines are sunken into your skin you see a splendor of light until you’re writhing beneath him. Deeply sensitive and aware of Yoongi’s cock continuously fucking you as you coil over the edge of an orgasm. You cry out his name with every glorious thrust and the euphoric feeling you’re experiencing. Yoongi’s mouth covers yours as if trying to muffle your ardent moans from the ears of the six pack members downstairs, yet they’re probably more than aware of the sacrament between you two that has just taken place. A violent groan escapes Yoongi through clenched teeth. The sheets beneath you tearing as his nails rake across the sheets as he delivers rough snaps of his hips into your raw and oversensitive core. You arched against him as you felt the spurts of warmth deep in you as Yoongi came, releasing himself in you.

“Mmm Yoongi,” you writhed beneath him, grinding against him to coax him through.

“My mate takes my cum so well,” Yoongi praised, his thrusts slowing. Until every last drop of him was milked from him, Yoongi collapsed in defeat on top of you. The two of you catching your breath, your hands limply resting on his back. The moment doesn’t last long before Yoongi raises his head to look at you. His eyes still golden, a smile tilting his lips.

You look down at him and grinned at him playfully, “So now what?”

Yoongi brushes the hair away from your face, “Now, I get you cleaned up.” He chuckles, shifting his body weight off you.There was much you had to learn about werewolves. For example, Yoongi’s definition of clean up meant his tongue lapping up every surface of your body with his tongue, right down to your core. Once he was satisfied with his cleaning and after another glorious orgasm due to his oral aftercare he held you in his arms.

“You’re going to have to enlighten me on what is fact and fiction about werewolves,” you said, snuggling closer to him.

Yoongi chuckled, “You can start by throwing out the whole book you got from the library. Do you know how painful it was to read that bullshit?”

“Well, can we confirm if one thing is true?” You got onto your elbows to look at him. “This mark,” You said glancing to the crescent bite, “Am I yours now?”

Yoongi pressed his lips against the bite then looked at you, “Yes, just as I’m yours.”

You grinned, “One more question,” Yoongi looked curiously at you as you began to straddle him. “Is it true what they say about a werewolves stamina?” you bit your lip as you looked at him, already feeling him hard beneath you.

Yoongi grinned, “Let me show you.”

Lea ♡

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