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elusivecagedmockingbird · 2 months

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Untitled

[jungkook x reader]

"You wanna know about art? When the class president starts touching my face on darkened street corners, and talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal."

Or THE popular fuckboy in your campus suddenly signs up as the figure model to one of your extracurricular activities and starts showing his interest in you.

A/N: I'm not sure where I went with this. Thus, untitled. I'm not even sure where this falls in the tags. But, enjoy!

Jungkook is at odds with himself.

Part of him wants to leave and forget about this stupid idea. He doesn't know what compelled him to listen to Jin. What exactly does the old man know about dating anyway? As far as he knows, he's never seen him with the same girl, so maybe he should have reached out to Namjoon instead.

The other part is hyping himself up. In about a few minutes, you’ll be coming through those doors. Besides, it would be too late to back out now. He chugs his bottled water as if he were thirsty. Jungkook thinks he'll pass out from anxiety. If not that, then from how warm it is inside this garage turned makeshift studio.

He feels the beads of sweat trickle down his back and pits.

This is not good.

The class is about to start and he'll be stripping down to his boxers and he's all sweaty. Thinking about that uneventful possibility, makes him sweat more.

Fuck.

He notices someone walk towards the corner he has been hiding in. Judging by how good-looking his face is and the vintage clothing he wears, Jungkook surmises this must be the Senior organizing this art class. Taeyong? Taehyun?

Ah, Taehyung, he remembers.

"You're Jungkook, right?"

Jungkook only nods as a response. His dry throat keeps him from speaking, afraid he squeaks out a reply and embarrasses himself more.

Thankfully, the other man is kind enough to not assume his silence as being standoffish.

"Nervous, huh?" Taehyung smirks, but Jungkook doesn't feel like he's being provoked. Rather, it actually calms him—at least the idea that it must be a common occurrence for models to exude this much anxiety that it's the first question people assume.

"That obvious, huh?" A dry chuckle following. "Do all models get nervous on their first time?" Jungkook finally finds his voice. Albeit, a bit meek for someone with a strong commanding aura.

Taehyung smiles and nods. "More than you expect. Which is understandable. Jin hyung told me you're doing this to learn more about art?"

No, he isn't, he internally protests. He doesn't know what Jin told Taehyung, but the real reason he's here on a Sunday, as a supposed 'volunteer' model for a drawing class is because of you.

The rest, he let Jin fill it out.

But of course, he wouldn't divulge those. So, Jungkook clears his throat before responding with a meek 'yes' as he shoots his empty water bottle in the can, making a clanging noise. He smiles sheepishly at the circled crowd whose attention he caught. He cringes at how much he's going out of his way to act cool. He's never this way, and yet, he wants to make sure you witness him with his best foot forward today.

Jungkook sways on the balls on his feet, taking in the space when he sees you—just as you were hooking your bag in your chair.

Goddamn, you're pretty. He's watching you laugh with another girl stationed near your spot as you lay out your tools on your table.

"Ready when you are." Taehyung breaks him out of his trance, and he replies with a sheepish nod—pretending he wasn't caught staring at you.

Jungkook starts by taking off his shoes, then his leather jacket. He unbuttons his pants and the thought that you would be looking at his crotch makes him blush. He shamelessly imagines you and him as Jack and Rose in that sketching scene. But before he can pull his jeans down, a booming baritone voice hollers at him.

Taehyung hurries towards him. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook freezes at the sudden aggression. His mouth puckers open and close like a fish coming up for air, as he struggles to come up with a reply.

Taehyung tilts his head and assesses the young man with a pout. "Did Seokjin not tell you this isn't a nude class? We just need you to strip to your shirt and jeans," Taehyung clarifies in a whisper.

Embarrassment floods Jungkook and he sputters out an apology. He silently curses himself between nervous laughs and incoherent words of what seemed to be apologies. Shy doe eyes peeps at you and the confused and scandalized look painted on your face makes him want to get swallowed by the ground and never reappear in front of you ever again.

You must think he’s some kind of a creep or worse, a flasher. With a big exhale, he tries to set aside the embarrassment and go through this. It's already bad enough that his nerves and recent embarrassment made a sweat stain on his shirt.

Not long after, Jungkook stands in the middle of the circle of easels. It actually isn't bad, he thinks. Most of the time, he's staring at wood stands and the occasional heads peeking out of the canvas.

You're on his side, so he can only see you through his peripheral vision. Even so, he can already visualize the vein popping on your forehead when you concentrate—just one of the things he adores on your face.

That afternoon, Jungkook finds out he likes the thought of you paying this much attention and focus on him, instead of the other way around.

He holds his growing smile at bay.

The hour-long class went quicker than Jungkook wanted. He takes his time picking up his jacket and pretends to search for something in his bag as he waits for you to pack up. But, you never rise from your seat.

It takes Taehyung tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your world. "You still get tomorrow, Y/N," he hears Taehyung remind you before walking around the room, checking progress.

Jungkook didn't mean to eavesdrop more, but when you stood up and followed Taehyung, he couldn't help but tune in to your conversation.

"I need a little more time to fix a few edges. Can I just extend for a while? I'll clean up the supplies room." You plead, voice kept low as if you're making an illegal trade with Taehyung.

Jungkook hears the older man sigh and call your name softly. "You still have tomorrow to work on it, and the next few days. Plus, I can't suddenly ask the model to stay just for you."

You whine petulantly like a child and Jungkook wonders if he can make you whine under different situations. Perhaps, under hi—

"He can go. I just need—"

The moment he makes out your reply, Jungkook was quick to cut you off and offer his time. "I can stay for a while."

Both you and Taehyung turn your heads to face the man who looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but he might as well have been. Your glowered confused eyes stare into him. "I-if you want," he stutters, so he tries to salvage his image with an obviously feigned nonchalant shrug.

Taehyung holds back his laugh but the sudden expulsion of air from his nose wasn't amiss, earning a side eye from you.

"No need," you answer with finality. "You get paid by the hour, right? I can't pay you and—"

"You don't have to pay me. I'm offering." Jungkook internally winces at how quick he was in offering himself. But if he were being honest, he would stay in this shoddy garage all night, through the blazing summer heat, as long as it's time spent with you.

Is it a crime that he's quick to take an opportunity when it has presented itself?

He thinks abso-fucking-lutely not.

Your eyebrows furrow, the 'I wasn't done talking' death glare you directed at Jungkook has him shift awkwardly on his foot and look everywhere else but at you.

"Still, I'd get in trouble for requesting more time, anyway. Can't have other students think Taehyung here has favorites." You press and it chips a bit of his confidence. It was obvious you didn't want him to stay. If he keeps insisting, you might think he's creepy.

Jungkook didn't want to seem too pushy anyway, and so, lets out a defeated "Oh.." and nods. His round eyes making it easy to see his dismay as it curves downwards a little at the sides.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Taehyung intervenes. The older man was amused as he watched Jungkook flounder around you, he also knows how oblivious and dismissive you are of guys like Jungkook to a fault. And so, he helps.

Ah, young love, Taehyung muses. "Just make sure to clean up and lock up after." He tosses the keys to you, but you make no movement of catching it, letting the keys hit your chest and fall to the ground.

Now your glare is directed towards your sunbaenim. "On second thought, I'm wrapping it up for tonight then." You head towards your easel to pack up your stuff.

Taehyung sighs.

He tells Jungkook to wait a bit and pick up the keys as he follows after you, calling your name.

“Just take the guy's offer to help. He’s trying to learn more about art, too,” he whispers, arms crossing across his chest. "Isn't this the piece you're submitting with your application? I know that head of yours will run nonstop if you don't finish what you intended to do tonight." Taehyung nudges you with a smile and softly jabs his pointer finger to your temple, making you chuckle with a pout. You shoo his hand away from your face and he knows he got you to stay.

This Jungkook kid owes him, Taehyung thinks.

However, from where Jungkook stands, he sees you breaking out the cutest smile at Taehyung. His eyes even going bigger at what he believes is an affectionate touch to your face when Taehyung boops your forehead.

Is that even ethical or something, he wonders irately. Taehyung isn't much older but given that he's your sunbaenim, Jungkook thinks he shouldn't be doing that. Or even be standing close to you. He's currently throwing imaginary lasers at Taehyung's back when you both turn to him and he immediately unsquints his eyes.

"Jungkook, do you still want to stay?" Taehyung shouts at the young man.

Yes.

A hundred times yes. He's a lovesick loyal puppy and if you ask him to bark, he'll bark for you.

Jungkook nods enthusiastically and rushes closer to where you stand, eager to wedge himself between you and Taehyung.

"Jungkook," you sigh his name tiredly. "I really need you to stop moving your head. Is there something more interesting behind me?" The question was rhetorical, but you're starting to wonder what he keeps on staring at behind you that you turn your head, only to be greeted with a wall filled with hanged canvases.

You hear him mumble out a you with a smirk, but was quick to cover it up with a sorry. This guy think he was slick.

Jungkook turns his head to assume his supposed pose. His eyes still filled with mirth. And he lasts about four minutes before his head starts turning towards you. Again.

You throw your head forward with an exhausted groan. This was a mistake. You're growing more frustrated by the minute. Maybe you should call it a night.

Looking back up at your model, you tell him he can leave.

Jungkook breaks his stance then quickly poses as he quickly persuades you. "No, I'll stay still. Look," he promises and follows through quickly by holding the pose.

"No, I'm just really too tired for tonight. Thank you for staying a bit longer." You busy yourself by grabbing at your stuff, cleaning pencil shards here and there to keep the lurking unease.

You can't have a breakdown here again, you admonish yourself. And it's going to feel worse after, if Jungkook's here to see it happen. You keep your head down while your hands wipe the charcoal dust on the table.

You hear footsteps nearing you, and you pray to whoever listens that he's not actually coming closer. He calls your name, his voice close and soft. You hum in response, head still hung low, refusing to face him.

Jungkook sees you rubbing an eraser at a blank surface and purses his lips. He finally got the chance to spend time with you and he was hoping to break the ice and get closer to you, but he does this—he upset you and wasted your time. You're not gonna want to spend more time with him after this.

"I-I'm sorry. I really wanted to help. I can stay again tomorrow to make up for tonight," he offers. Everything about him screams eagerness and he must really be interested in art to be willing to stay in the garage-slash-studio during this Summer heat.

You feel the tingling pressure in your throat and your lips quiver. You clear your throat and will away the tears before it breaks through your paper wall.

"No. You did great, Jungkook. I'm just not feeling well tonight." Your voice was too soft, but at least it didn't break.

Jungkook walks past you and turns to face you, hands making contact with your shoulder. "Are you sick? I have some medicine in my bag," he offers. He retracts his hand and unzips his bag to take out whatever medicine he had stashed inside.

It's his genuine concern that does it for you. You suddenly sob and cover your face with your hands.

"Oh, Y/N, are you okay? Does something hurt?" He didn't expect this. Jungkook was taken aback and his worried eyes looked for signs of where you could have been hurt.

Your sobs turned to full-on bawling and Jungkook was quick to take you into his arms. He lets you cry and occasionally whispers assurances between your weeping despite not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears.

In that moment, you stood illuminated by harsh yellowish fluorescent lights like a Gustav Klimt painting on display. The A/C humming noise drowned out by your hiccups and his whispers.

You were the first to pull away. He didn't mean to, but the moment you separated from Jungkook and lowered your hands from your face, he laughed.

Offended at his reaction, you push him away and quickly gather your bag hanging on the chair.

"Wait," he calls for you as he fumbles to pick up the bag he let fall to the floor.

He calls your name but you decidedly ignore him, feet shuffling quickly to leave the garage.

Fucking ass, you think. You're mortified. You already dread tomorrow as your imagination runs wild. What if he tells his friends about your ugly crying? You think you don't care what frat guys think, but you still definitely don't want to be the talk of the campus. You've only transferred here last year and after being briefed by your friend on who to avoid, you made sure not to have a run in with guys like Jungkook.

This is exactly why you were holding everything in earlier. Every stereotype of frat guys being huge assholes behind the charming facade were true.

A flash of high school memories ambush you and you just want to get to your dorm and hide in your blankets. You'll just have to miss tomorrow's class, you plan.

You violently shrug when you feel a hand grip your wrist.

"Hey, will you wait," Jungkook pleads. You turn to face him and see him reach something in his pockets.

Fuck. He's not going to take a photo, isn't he?

You were ready to lunge at him, anything to prevent him from taking a snap at your post-bawl blotched face, when all of sudden, a soft cloth touched your face.

Jungkook chuckles at your startled face.

"You have charcoal smudged all over your face," he points out. His bunny teeth peeks through his curved lips and the sides of his eyes wrinkle from amusement.

"Oh." You visibly flinch when he uses his thumb to brush the apple of your cheeks.

"There," he smiles, eyes fixated on his finger caressing your skin.

"You know you really have pretty eyes."

If you were in a romantic movie, his line would have panned out well. But you're not, so cue the sound of glass breaking to signify a shattered moment.

To think, you bought his act. You thought, here's a deviant frat boy species. Maybe not all of them are only interested in girls and booze. You even thought this Jeon Jungkook isn't so bad.

Until he says that.

Breaking away and stepping back from him, you humorlessly laugh in disbelief.

"You're a fucking cliché, Jungkook. Does this babble usually work on chicks?" You take a look at him and he has the audacity to look unaware of how hokey the situation is.

"Wha—" Poor boy couldn't even finish his sentence, you thought.

"Y/N, I'm not following."

You were about to make a joke on flies flying straight to his agape mouth but you hold yourself back. Instead, you make a gesture of shaking your head as you force out another dry laugh. You look at him one last time and walk away from the frat boy once again.

You hear his footsteps follow you, along with calls of your name. "Did I say something wrong?"

You stop as you reach the threshold—you're almost out of the garage and out into the cold dark night, ready to rush into the safety of your dorm and away from sleazy college boys.

But something in you compels you to turn, and so you do. "Yes, Jungkook. You did." Your hands grip your bag tighter, feet taking a couple of steps back into the garage, to the shoddy light so he can see you.

"Did you really think this charming ‘oh-i’m-clueless act was going to drop panties? You wanna know about art?" You hurl the question; voice no longer shaky and unsure. "When the campus playboy starts touching my face on dimly lit spaces, and starts talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal." You roll your eyes at him before making your exit.

It takes a minute for Jungkook to get his body to move. And when he does, you're already a distance away. Almost gone from his sight.

This is the second time today that you rendered him immobile and speechless. Just what the fuck did he do?

Meanwhile, you cursed at Jeon Jungkook on your entire walk home. Fuck him and his round innocent eyes for throwing the bees and butterflies in your stomach into chaos.

You tell yourself you dodged a bullet and that was just a ploy for him to get into your pants. You should actually congratulate yourself for turning away one of the notorious womanizers. Your roommate would be proud of you.

Still, you couldn't deny the jolt you felt in your chest when he touched your face and spewed those cheesy lines about your eyes.

You grunt as you slam the door to your dorm.

"Damn. Who pissed you off?" Jihyo, your roommate stares at you across her table.

You heave a sigh of exhaustion and plop yourself on the carpeted floor. "Had a run in with a frat guy," you spit with a scowl. "You remember the guy you were talking about last week? Jungkook? He's the model for this week."

"Seriously? That's..." Jihyo's head tilted sideways as she looked for the right word, brows furrowing. "Out of character for him."

You raise your head and prop your arms to face your roommate. "Right? That's what I thought, but Taehyung said he was interested in learning art."

At this, Jihyo pauses while eating and guffaws. "Is he for real?"

You roll your eyes at no one in particular and rest your head on your palms as your other hand plucks at the carpet. "Nah, I'm pretty sure he was just there to pick up girls."

Jihyo squints at you, suddenly alert as she senses something you haven't told her yet.

"He hit on me," you start. Already growing flustered at the recollection of the afternoon. "You know those cheesy lines from romcoms, he actually used them on me." You went on detail by detail about what happened and ended your story with a shudder. "This is the first time I might dread going to the class."

"Yep, I see why he thinks he could get away with the cheesiest line," Jihyo murmurs. Apparently, during your story, Jihyo picked up her phone and started to stalk Jungkook's profile. "I mean shame it wasn't nude because have you seen this body?" She flips her phone so you can see her screen.

"What? That's not Jungkook." You stand from your spot and walk closer to Jihyo and snatch the phone. "This isn't Jungkook."

"What are you talking about? That’s literally his profile,” Jihyo takes her phone back, wanting to take another look if you’re looking at the same thing. “See, Kim Jongkook. He’s the notorious fuck boy, probably in all departments. Good thing is, he’s graduating this year.”

Oh, fuck.

>> Still Untitled

#jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts fic

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heich0e · 7 months

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choso/f!reader

The light from the signs that line the street around you makes a dull, irritating ache throb behind your eyes.

It’s a migraine. Or exhaustion maybe. Regardless of the cause, the pain carves its way through you like rot. You lower your eyes to the pavement, hoping that by averting your gaze from the fluorescents you may find some temporary reprieve.

It doesn’t help much.

You fish the little paper packet of cigarettes out from inside the small purse you wear over your arm. There are only three left in the pack, but you swear there should be more. You’d only bought them that morning—no, wait, yesterday morning, since you’d gone a night without sleep. You suck a little hiss of disappointed air in through your teeth, plucking out one of the last lonely cigarettes from inside the pack and then retrieving your lighter too. Though inadvisable by anyone medically qualified, you hope that maybe the hit of nicotine might help the headache while you wait.

Cigarette between your teeth, you lift your little yellow lighter to the end. Pressing down on the safety that covers the spark wheel you draw it quickly back, but the tiny flame that appears momentarily flickers out just as swiftly. You repeat the motion, pressing and dragging your thumb to light it, but you find no more success than you had upon your first attempt. Your lips pull into a tighter line, pressing into the spongey filter of the cigarette in frustration. You shake the lighter a few times, hoping that whatever meagre amount of fluid left in it might suddenly decide to make itself known.

You light it again.

Nothing.

“Here.”

You glance up.

Choso stands before you, his arm extended in your direction with a lighter in his hand. It’s green—a less neon shade than your own lighter—and has something scrawled across it in smudged ink that you can’t make out in the night. Your eyes meet, a momentary look passing between the two of you. Recognition. Greeting, maybe.

You don’t take the lighter from his hand. Instead, you steady the cigarette between your lips in the V of your fingers and lean towards him. He understands without it needing to be said, clicking his own lighter to life and holding it to the end until the cherry flares red on your inhale.

Your eyes meet again as you angle yourself into his space, closer now than before. The same street signs and their glowing lights that had been so irritating to you catch in his glassy brown eyes, framed by long lashes that flutter in a blink.

He looks tired. But he always looks tired, and you’re sure you’re not faring much better—so who are you to judge?

You pull away once your cigarette is lit, taking a drag and then blowing the smoke into the wind.

“You’re late,” you say quietly. Not a hello, nor a thank you.

“Sorry,” he replies. “My little brother had cram school. I had to wait to make sure he got home safely.”

Itadori Yuuji—15, a high school student, not his brother by blood.

You nod a little bit, dismissive more than it is accepting, and take another long drag from your cigarette.

Choso watches you raptly, his eyes following every movement. After some time passes, you hold the cigarette out to him in offering, though it’s mostly burned away.

“No, thank you,” he refuses you politely, dipping his head.

You finish the cigarette off, and then drop it to the ground and crush it under the pointed toe of your high-heeled shoe.

There’s a mint in your coat pocket, and you quickly pop it into your mouth to chase away the lingering taste of tobacco. You love the nicotine rush, but you still hate the bitter flavour that lingers on your tongue even after all these years. Choso watches that too—his eyes following your hand until the little white pastille slips behind your lips.

Your gazes meet.

You take a step towards him, wrapping your hands around his arm and tucking yourself against his side. It’s natural. Familiar. Easy. He smells like soap, and this close to him you can see the way his dark hair—down today, and tucked behind his ears, rather than in the two twists he often wears—is faintly wet, like he’s only just showered.

“Let’s go.”

Inside the shabby lobby, there’s only one person lingering—a man, standing behind the counter—who pastes on a small but notably insincere smile when you and Choso step through the door.

“Good evening,” he greets you with a slight bow.

“A room, please,” Choso says to him, to the point but not unkind.

“For how long?”

You feel the man’s eyes on you then, and you know what he must be thinking. It’s not hard to tell, looking between you and Choso, what the two of you are doing—even less so at a love hotel on a seedy side of town where you can book rooms by the half-hour. The differences between Choso and yourself are many and obvious; what with your skimpy little dress and your heels in contrast to his jeans; raggedy, thick-soled combat boots; and windbreaker. And that’s to say nothing about the differences in your countenances: Choso looks stiff, uncomfortable even, under the scrutiny of the man at the front desk, but you’re largely unbothered by the judgement in his gaze. You lean a little more into Choso’s arm where you’re wrapped around it, tucking your face into his collar in a show of diffidence but you meet the man’s eyes with a flutter of your lashes.

He licks his lips a little, a flush appearing just above the collar of his rumpled dress shirt, and you resist the urge to sneer in disgust.

Once the two of you receive the key to your room, you quietly make your way there—still sticking close to Choso’s side as you depart from the lobby towards the elevator. You don’t cross paths with another soul as you travel to your room on the third floor, the only sound to be heard is the mechanical fwoosh of the elevator as it climbs, the hum of the vending machine selling variously erotic wares you have to pass to make it to your room, and the quiet beep as Choso unlocks the door.

Just as the two of you are about to step in, a door at the other end of the hall opens, and Choso swiftly wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you in front of him to usher you across the threshold first—using his body to shield you from the eyes of the man who passes down the corridor behind him as the door swings shut. There’s something almost charmingly conscientious about the gesture, though it seems to have been more unconscious than anything.

The room is just what you expect it to be. Plain. Somewhat sterile. Not uncomfortable, but not particularly homey, either. There’s a bed, two bedside tables, a television mounted at the foot of the bed. There’s a door that leads into the tiny washroom, where the shower seems to take up most of the floorspace. The room is dim, likely intentionally, even once you flick the overhead lights on.

“That guy was creepy,” you sigh, stepping away from Choso and further into the room towards the bed.

“Who?” he asks.

“The guy at the counter,” you sniff, flopping down at the edge of the bed. You throw one leg over the other, crossing them at the knee, and lean back on your elbows against the mattress. The linen is surprisingly soft considering the inexpensive rate. “You’d swear he’s never seen a call girl before.”

Choso is still standing by the door, looking as uncomfortable as ever. He reaches up and rubs his neck, peering around the room seemingly just as an excuse not to meet your eyes.

“So,” you call to him, beckoning his wandering attention back to you. You tilt your head to the side once his gaze connects with yours. “Did you bring it?”

Choso’s hand flutters to the pocket of his dark windbreaker, and part of you wonders if he even knows he did it. You always find that part of him so curious—his sincerity. How easy he is for you to read. You can’t help but question if he’s like this with everyone, or if there’s something about you that makes him this way.

He nods.

The mint you popped into your mouth before entering the hotel has melted away to nothing on your tongue now, but the lingering freshness remains. You feel the mentholated burn as you suck in a little breath, a pleasant tingle in your throat.

“Let’s see it, then,” you say, holding out your hand expectantly.

He hesitates a little but then he approaches, pulling a creased envelope out from his jacket pocket and handing it to you. It’s folded in half, and theres a grease stain at the corner of the white paper envelope—not uncommon for a mechanic, you suppose.

Choso’s hands are always so clean when he meets you, though.

Inside the envelope is exactly what you came here for.

“This is perfect,” you remark, thumbing through the papers as your eyes quickly scan across the pages to surmise their contents.

Choso is very still as he stands in front of you, towering over where you sit perched at the edge of the love hotel bed and watching as you flick through the papers he’s just delivered into your hands. There’s something sort of expectant in the way he waits for you to speak again.

“And you’re sure this is all of it?” you ask him, glancing up from the pages in your grip.

He nods. “That’s everything.”

“Gojo’s gonna lose his shit when I slap this on his desk,” you remark to yourself with a snort. You can already picture the absolute dismay on Satoru’s face when he realizes that you beat him to the punch in securing the information that he’s been after for weeks now. You’re sure he’ll be whining about it to Geto for days.

Choso fidgets slightly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Nice work, kid,” you commend him, looking up at him with a smile.

There’s a shift in expression on Choso’s face then—not quite a pout, but a definite air of disappointment or displeasure. He says nothing in spite of the look, and you don’t ask anything, either. That’s not what you came here to talk about, after all. For all intents and purposes, your businesses began and ended with the stack of papers in your lap.

Contained within the pages Choso brought to you is every vehicle (make, model, VIN number and plate) that Choso’s garage has worked on or modified for the crime syndicate currently wreaking havoc in the city under Sukuna’s command.

“I’ve got your payment here,” you say, fishing out an envelope of your own from inside your purse. There’s enough cash inside the crisp manila envelop that you produce to reimburse the cost of the room he’d paid for and to compensate him for the information. “The rest of it went to the cram school to cover your brother’s tuition, as usual.”

Choso takes it from your hands, his long fingers brushing gently against your own as it passes between your grips, and he doesn’t even bother checking the contents before he slips it into his pocket.

“Thank you, Inspector,” he says quietly, dipping his head in a bow.

Your lips purse as Choso stares down at his feet, observing the way he seems to be avoiding your gaze.

Choso’s been working as an informant for the past few years. It started off just passing small pieces of information here and there, having established a rapport with your previous chief in his late teens following the murders of his two brothers thanks to the early days of the gang that would eventually grow into Sukuna’s organization now. Choso was born into that life—cursed by his own blood—but he’s made a conscious effort in his adulthood to keep on the straight and narrow, largely for Yuuji’s sake.

You’ve been meeting him like this for a little over a year now, building your own relationship with him now that the chief retired. Choso’s mechanic shop sees all kinds of people coming in and out, good and bad, and he gleans a lot of information in his neutrality. He’s useful to you.

You understand the risk that Choso takes by meeting with you. By working for you. It’s a truth you recognize as well as he does. But he’s never hesitated to get you the information you ask for. Has never denied you anything you seek. All he asks in return is a meagre compensation and the assured safety and education of his little brother.

You wonder why he’s willing to go so far, and for whose sake he does it.

You flop back onto the hotel bed, one hand resting over the papers in your lap to keep them from slipping onto the floor.

“I’m beat,” you complain, throwing your other arm up over your eyes and hiding your face in the crook of your elbow.

“You’re not sleeping?” the soft rumble of Choso’s low voice is strangely comforting like this.

You hum. “Haven’t been home in two days.”

“You need to rest,” he chides you, and there’s something funnily maternal in the way he says it. He’s suddenly every bit the big brother you know him to be. You shift your arm so you can peek up at him from where you’re sprawled across the bed.

He’s inched closer to you since your eyes were covered, hesitating at the very edge of the mattress beside you. He’s staring down at you with a serious expression on his face, slightly pinched in reproach but softened at the edges with concern.

“Yeah, yeah,” you snort, lifting your hand and waving it dismissively. “I’ll get there eventually, kid.”

Choso catches your wrist in his hand before you can let it drop again, suddenly kneeling against the mattress so he’s looming over you. You’re surprised by the gesture, a sudden falter in the steady thumping of your heart as he stares down at you.

“I’m older than you,” he says quietly, somewhat sullen but simultaneously sheepish. His eyes bore down into yours. “Please stop calling me 'kid'.”

You know he’s right. You know just about everything there is to know about Kamo Choso on paper, having researched him and his background extensively before you got involved with him like this. You suppose you picked up the habit thanks to the chief, since that’s how he always used to refer to him. As Choso hovers over you, his big hand still wrapped around your wrist and his broad frame blocking the rest of the hotel room behind him from view, the truth of his remark rings palpably true.

You suddenly aren’t sure how to respond, your lips parting but no words slipping out.

Choso lets your hand drop after a moment, shifting to sit beside you on the bed. There’s no other seats in the small hotel room, so it’s not particularly unexpected, but you’re strangely conscious of him now in ways you don’t like.

“You should sleep here for a bit,” he says, his eyes glancing over to the clock on the bedside table. “We have the room for another hour.”

You don’t ever leave the hotel room before a realistically inconspicuous amount of time has passed, but suddenly the prospect of spending another hour with him makes your stomach twist.

“I’m fine,” you try to brush him off, sitting up and neatly stacking the papers so that you can slip them back into their envelope and tuck them safely into your purse. Your face feels hot, and that ache between your temples is back again. You contemplate another cigarette.

A gentle touch against your elbow makes you freeze.

You glance over at Choso from the corner of your eye, and find his dark gaze on you. His eyes are imploring, soft, and seemingly fathomless.

“Rest,” he insists again. “I’ll wake you before we need to leave.”

Your eyes scan his face. Your headache throbs.

There are a hundred reasons to deny him. A thousand reasons you shouldn’t listen to what he says.

But there’s one—a distant, whispered reason, that you don’t want to acknowledge—that tells you differently.

“Move over,” you grumble, letting your purse fall to the floor with a dull thud!

Choso obeys immediately, shifting so you can crawl into the bed beside him and rest against the pillows. You squeeze your eyes shut the minute your head hits them.

“You should at least take your shoes off,” Choso remarks. You flinch a little as you feel the warmth of his hand on your ankle, holding it steady as he gently slips your shoe from your foot. He repeats the same motion for the other.

Your eyes remain shut.

After a moment of stillness, you feel the mattress shift slightly and the warmth of his body recede. When you crack one eye open to survey what changed, you see that Choso’s slipped down to the floor, resting with his back against the side of the bed and his legs crossed underneath him. His eyes are shut now too, and you watch his profile for a moment as he breathes.

You close your eyes again.

“Wake me up in thirty minutes,” you mumble, and Choso hums in response. “I’ll leave first."

But even in the stillness of that little hotel room, even in your exhaustion, neither of you manages to fall asleep.

#choso x reader #kamo choso x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #writing #tw smoking

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misguidedasgardian · 9 months

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I need to... (1)

1... Get the f*ck out of here

MASTERLIST

Summary: An awful event leads you to rethink of everything

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader (for now)

Warnings: There are mentions of them being Minors! at some point in their relationship, cursing, cheating, angst, depression, age gap (not for reader), coercion, toxic relationship, drinking alcohol to cope, in some countries it is underage drinking, (reader is 18). might forget some warnings…

Wordcount: 4 k

Notes: This just started like a blurb, and now we are here. AAAHHHH this is going to be soft, romcom sort of thing, but a bit angsty at first…

You knew him like the palm of your hand, and that is how you could pinpoint the exact day something went wrong, were perhaps his affair started, you couldn’t be sure

You wanted to go to Winterfell University, it was far North in the continent, they say it was always winter there, cold, and wild, but you had seen pictures and had been there briefly on vacations with your family and you absolutely loved it, besides, it had a great program on what you wanted to study, you wanted an adventure, you wanted to completely change your surroundings, get out of your comfort zone, fly off the nest.

But Aemond, your loving boyfriend and highschool sweetheart didn’t think so, you didn’t want to break your relationship, besides, Aemond’s family owned an airline, it would be a four hour journey to meet you there. But he insisted it was too far. You believed that on the one hand that a time apart could be good for you, you would miss him more, and therefore your reunions would be way more intense and hotter, but no.

An that time it made sense, you were drawing your future together, so he convinced you to go to Dragonstone University with him. The university of his dreams.

It was completely his environment, the university specialized on what he wanted to study, diplomacy and political sciences, so for him it was a perfect fit.

But not for you

All the alumni were perfect, serious, dressed like they all belonged to old money, just like Aemond, he was like a fish of the same pond, and you? were a fucking Alligator. You felt big, clumsy, unwanted.

There wasn’t a career in design, like the one you wanted to follow, instead, there was plastic arts and photography, even architecture, so, in your first year, you made sure to take a couple of subjects leading in all of those directions.

That was your first mistake.

You should have stayed in architecture, maybe, photography even, but instead, you decided to take a course with Professor Alys Rivers. In a plastic arts class

That was your second

Soon you became some sort of friends

She was tall, beautiful, dark long locks, big green eyes, the woman was stunning, young, just started teaching, and soon she became your mentor

You liked her

She realized you were frustrated, and take special care in you, mentoring you, and keeping you close to her, she told you maybe you would be good at teaching, and maybe she wouldn’t have taken so long in deciding she wanted to teach

She was thirty five years old

But as Aemond was thriving, you were quickly losing yourself

Classes were boring, didn't raise your interest, the people here were strange, you were afraid to say you weren’t making any friends and not for the lack of trying

It got so bad you only went out with Aemond, who was even after a few months, the most popular guy in his class, it was becoming a very unbalanced relationship

You and Aemond had grown up together, you were neighbors with his nephews Jacaerys, Lucerys and joffrey, the first one being your classmate with Aemond

You played together as children, and in eleventh grade he had formerly asked you to date him, to be his girlfriend

Both your families were ecstatic

HIghschool sweethearts, you knew each other forever, you were going to marry and live a perfect life, Aemond wanted to be a diplomat, and you were catching up to be his beautiful, smart, joyful trophy wife.

You didn’t see it that way then

You wanted to follow a design career, he didn’t take you seriously, but encouraged you

The problem is that Winterfell was too far away, so he convinced you to take architecture courses in his university, the best one in the country for what he wanted, the kind of university that grooms the men and women that were going to take over the world one day. It was huge, a big castle from five thousand years ago, the least you could do was enjoy the architecture.

He was the perfect man, the perfect boyfriend, the one your parents would adore, and they did, he was chivalrous, patient, kind, generous…

You introduced him to your favorite teacher hen you ran into each other at the campus’ coffee shop

That was your third mistake, to invite Alys to join you both to take a cup of coffee,

If you only payed attention to the looks they gave each other

“So she is the teacher you have talked to me about”, Aemond said sheepishly, you only hummed as you kept reading a tome about a tyroshi painter who was the first in drawing the human body in all its forms, he was sort of famous, had lived more than a thousand years ago

“Yes, she is so sweet”, you whispered, “she is an artist, but so down to earth you know?”, you said without even thinking, “you can completely see the process behind her works, she is amazing”

Aemond had the luck (or money), to get single in the dorms, so he slept alone, so you could stay with him anytime you’d like, and you really liked it, your roommate was a bit mean.

And suddenly, Aemond has to study… a lot, you didn’t sleep with him anymore, even though your after class activities were as active as ever.

He was concentrating on his classes, (or that is what you thought), so you were going to start and do the same, and you tried, so so hard

But you were failing

You were already started the last month of the semester, and two of your teachers told you unceremoniously, that you were failing

BAD

You barely contained your tears, your lips were quivering and your nose tickled, and you went to the only person who could bring you comfort… one of the two… your professor Alys, whose class you had been getting pure A’s in

You never saw it coming

Her classroom was the last one in one of the towers of the incredible castle, and when you started climbing up the stairs, your stomach sank

It was late, the sun already hiding on the horizon, but you knew she was still in her atelier, and there she was

You could what the moans and whispers before you saw them, your cheeks heated and a sick curiosity made you sneak a peek inside the classroom

Oh how you wish you didn’t

There she was, your thirty five year-old teacher being pounded by your nineteen year old boyfriend

You’d recognize that silver hair anywhere, everywhere

You wanted to throw up

Alys and Aemond, Aemond was fucking Alys

Together

Fucking

Sweating

You just stood there

Your arm moved alone, as you raised your phone and took a picture of them, you could need it for later, but it wasn’t you who made that decision, it certainly wasn’t you

You were crying

You covered your mouth to sob outloud and for them to hear it, and you walked away, it was a miracle you managed to went down those treacherous steps and not smash your head, perhaps you would have preferred it, to smash your head against the stone floors, to turn off your head

the tears stopped, and your feet moved on your own as they took you out of there, you didn’t want anyone to see you, you didn’t want to give this university more of you, not your tears, not more of your efforts, no nothing

You didn’t go to your room, you couldn’t, you know she was going to be there, Maris Baratheon, and you couldn’t face her, not now, not ever.

You needed something else…

So you walked to the only bar near campus, many of your classmates would call it a “slum”, it wasn’t very popular with students, and that’s exactly what you needed.

You sat on a stool on the bar, and waited for the bartender to get to you, didn’t push him, just looked at the

“looks like you need a drink”, you looked to the side to find a young guy, maybe short twenties, dark born hair, green eyes

“Don’t I?”, you mocked, smiling shyly, he was cute. You couldn’t help but notice his Winterfell University Jersey. He offered you a pint, and you took it gladly, you really needed it, “aren’t you a bit far from”, you pointed at his chest where the varsity letters told you where he was from, he only chuckled

“They sent me in a… diplomatic mission”, he said with a mystery tone, and wiggling his eyebrows

“Are you recruiting students to go to the far North?”, you said, and if he said yes, you were going to beg him to take you with him

“Yes”

“Oh”, you seemed truly amused so he offered you his hand

“Ben Tallheart”, he whispered, and you shook his hand, giving him your name. “What do you know about the university anyways?”, he asked, taking a sip of his beer

“I wanted to apply there”, you answered, and he looked at you surprised, “I wanted to take the designer degree”

“Why didn’t you?”, he asked

“I decided to follow my boyfriend here, who I just found out is screwing my plastic arts teacher”, he spitted his beer

“What?”, he asked, not knowing if to laugh or just be horrified

“Yep”, you said, taking a long sip of your own beer

“Uf, that must be tough”, speak of the devil, your phone started ringing, to no surprise, you discovered it was Aemond who was calling you, and fuck it hurt

“I’m gonna need something stronger than this”, you said to him, canceling the call, you just wouldn’t let it ring, you wanted him to realize you had hung up on him. Ben smiled, asking the bartender for two tequila shots

It was to pints later and five tequila shots, that you were laughing your face out, hugging him with one of your arms the shoulders of Ben

“I want to go to Winterfell, fuck this college”

“Yes, fuck it!”, he said, “this college sucks, filled with stuck ups…”

Your phone had ringed so much it vibrated off the table and it was currently missing from your earshot and eye shot

You didn’t want to know either

“You think they’ll take me?”, you asked him with teary eyes

“Of course they will!”, he laughed

“Half semester?”, you asked

“Of course!”

“Let’s fucking do it!”, you cheered, and everyone in the bar cheered with you, “I need to get the fuck outta here”, you said, and Ben laughed wholeheartedly.

The rest of the night was a blur, you knew Ben had walked with you back to campus and accompanied you to the door of your room

“My stuck up roommate is probably in”, you told him, and he nodded

“If you meant what you said”, he said, “and you are truly interested in coming to Winterfell University, here”, he passed you his presentation card, “give me a ring tomorrow”, you only nodded

“Thank you”, you whispered, and he only nodded, and left you.

You entered your room and there she was, your roommate, putting innumerable creams in her face

“Eh, where have you been?”, oh that tone

“What?”, you asked, already coming down from your binge, “what do you care?”

“Ugh, you’re drunk!?”

“A little”, you grumbled, dropping to your bed

“Iu”, she whined, “Aemond was here you know, looking for you”, she told you, “you truly don’t deserve him, he was so concerned”

Oh poor Aemond, he couldn’t find you after he was fucking your plastic arts teacher, i bet that filthy motherfucker didn’t even shower before he came looking for you

“I bet”, you whispered, you then remembered you couldn’t find your phone, probably was still on the floor of that bar… Shit you were going to need it if you truly planned on contacting Ben for that transfer.

But tonight you couldn’t do anything because you were practically kicked out of that bar, it had to be tomorrow, so, to the horror of your roommate, you just dozed off, dressed in the same clothes, reeking of bar and secondhand smoke.

The next morning you woke up and thankfully, you were alone, your head hurt, but not as much as your heart.

Gods it hurt

You had burned the image of Aemond and Alys, fucking on top of her desk, and you couldn’t believe it. Aemond, your Aemond.

Your nose started to tickle, knowing you were about to cry you stood up, and searched for a change of clothes, you took your towel, and went straight for the bathroom, to wash your night off of your hair.

That morning you had classes with profes-… with that bitch Alys, so you didn’t even bother showing up. And since most of the college was in classes by now, you found yourself alone in the big bathroom.

You hadn't cried until now, but as you undressed yourself and got under the generous flow of water, something inside you just… unraveled. You started weeping uncontrollably, choking with your tears and the water, you hugged yourself under the falling boiling water seeking for comfort, but you couldn’t find any

Every breath you took hurt, deep within your chest, and you cried and cried until you felt your eyes sore

Your Aemond, your boyfriend, the one that gave you a promise ring… the one you knew since kindergarten, the one who was your first kiss, your first… everything! He was cheating on you with your own professor, Alys, the one that encouraged you and tried to nurture you, and guide you through this uncertainty in this part of your life. The one that you considered to be your only stone here besides your loving boyfriend

What was wrong with them?

What was wrong with you? What did you do wrong? you chose school because of him, you changed careers, you endured a hell for him, you dressed how he liked it, to arranged your hair the way he liked it, you stopped doing things you enjoyed, stopped watching films that made you laugh because they were “childish”, you stopped listening to upbeat music because it wasn’t “proper”

Everything for him

You loved him with all your heart

You knew Friday morning he had this debate class, very important and he couldn’t miss it, or he would have been throwing your door down, so you took that as a sign, you needed to work fast and sneakily.

You needed to get out of here

You didn’t want to see him ever again

So you ran back to your room, got dressed quickly, and the first thing you did was run back to the bar, where the cleaning lady returned your phone to you.

You turned it on and to no surprise, you found thousands of texts and missed calls from Aemond

“love where are you?”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m coming to your dorm”

“Maris says you were not there, wtf? where are you?”

“You clearly don’t want to speak to me, but I just wanted to know you are ok”

“I don’t understand why you are doing this to me, did I do something wrong? Are you mad?”

“The least you could do is face me like an adult”

You rolled your eyes as you read the messages, he growing angrier, trying to turn this on you

But then he sent a video of a instagram story, of you and Ben hugging and laughing, taking tequila shots, it was uploaded by a classmate of Aemond who had clearly saw you

“I see that you were not alone, I can’t believe you would do this to me”, he wrote, and you chuckled darkly, the audacity of him had no limits whatsoever, “I just wanted to see you, and be with you, I wanted you to help me study for my finals, I know this few months had been hard on you, but I least I thought we had eachother”, but then it got worse, he send you a picture of a flower bouquet and a dark red box, “I wanted to gift you this, to show you how much I love you, and how much I was looking forward to a future with you”, you couldn’t kept walking, you had to sit down in a bench looking down at a cliff, you couldn’t even walk because of how much you were crying.

You couldn’t believe this

Why would he do this to you? you had given him your everything, you had sex almost every day, you complimented each other, you told each other everything, you were what you thought a power couple, only that he had all the power while you were his cheerleader….

This fucker, you wiped your tears angrily from your face.

You were feeling a pain in your chest and you truly believed for a second you were having a heart attack, that you were positively going to die right here in this rusty bench, alone.

Your drunken thoughts from last night came rushing back in, of wanting to transfer to Winterfell University half semester.

It was an insane thought

But you also believe you couldn’t stay here, for what? this isn’t what you wanted, the only thing you thought you had was Aemond, who you just found out fucking YOUR teacher in the classroom. Staying here was insane, you had no friends, now you had no boyfriend, no career

When you finally calmed down and walked back to your dorm room, Aemond was waiting for you right outside.

And it's like all your convictions of leaving him and this school faltered just like that, just seeing him like that standing, his furrowed brow looking concerned for you. He was worried bout you, for a second you even believed that this was all a misunderstanding, they he couldn’t possibly do this to you

Right then and there you just wanted to beg him to stop, to stop his affair and look you in the eye and promise you it was never going to happen again, that he loved you, that you were the one. That he was drunk, or she made him do it. She coerced him into it.

But then he looked at you, and his concern went to annoyance

“Where have you been?”, he asked, walking towards you, “I was concerned for you!”, he immediately went to himself and what he was feeling, and you didn’t know where you got the strength from, but you looked at him, serious in the eye

“I failed color theory and anatomy drawing class”, you said, looking him in the eye, and the worst part is that you weren’t truly lying. His face softened as he looked at you with pity, “I feel like a massive failure, and I didn’t want to cry to you because you are already in the excellency program”, you whispered, looking at the ground in front of you

“So your solution was to go drink at a bar?”, he asked then, again, annoyed

“I found this guy that was from Winterfell University, the one I wanted to go, and asked him about the programs…”, he sighed

“We talked about this”, he said, “that college is not even ranking…”

“I don’t care Aemond”, you whispered, “I just need to sleep, please, and you are going to be late”, you whispered, not daring to look him in the eye

You believed you knew his schedule, but apparently not, because when he was supposed to be in study group, he was fucking your teacher…

“Are you going to be alright?”, he asked, “because I need my study partner”, he said, trying to sound hopeful. Yes you helped him study, you prepared flashcards for him, because you knew he had visual memory so he studied better with colors and images, so you prepared his study material and quizzed him

Maybe a couple of times with stripping quizzes…

Oh how foolish you had been

“Yes Aem”, you said, managing to smile at him, “I just need some time”

“You have it love”, he whispered, “I love you”

“Love you”, you closed the door gently, leaving him outside, and threw yourself in the bed, hiding your face in the pillow and weeped a bit more.

Perhaps you should face Aemond, hear what he has to say, you wanted to believe it so badly, that there was something else to it, that perhaps…

You were a fool

They were fucking on top her desk… what else is there? he was cheating on you, she was violating hundreds of protocols, so was he

You dozed off to sleep

You woke up when your roommate entered the room

“You still drunk?”, she sneered

“No”, you whispered, “just tired”, you didn’t even know why you bothered

You have made a decision…

You were going to leave this place

You were going to leave and not tell a soul, not even Aemond, you were going to disappear from his life, from one hour to the next

You contacted Ben, and he told you everything you need to know, the semester was almost over, but the next one was just around the corner, and you had to do this, not even for spite, but because this is what you wanted from your future

So you did the only thing you could think off

So went to speak with the dean

She was an old family friend, she knew your parents and family since forever, she was very professional and never showed favoritism, but, you knew you were on her good side

“I want to know if I can transfer to another university”, you asked shakily, once she invited you to take a seat in in front of her desk, she looked at you puzzled

“Did something happen? the school year is not even over yet”, she said with her kind eyes, truly worried for you

“I realized I didn’t choose the university for the school path I wanted to take”, you tried to explain, but the sorrow in your face made her believe you were not being truthful, or that you weren’t telling her the truth, “I choose Dragonstone because of love”. you continued, “and now I don’t have that love, and… I want to study a design mayor”

“I see”, now she was more pleased, “Where would you like to go?”, she asked

“Winterfell University”, you said without even thinking about it, she only nodded

“I have a good friend up there”, she said, “so the change wouldn’t be the problem, you have the grades and the Maester exams scores in your favor, but, are you sure this is what you want?”, she asked.

“More than anything”, you said with a smile

Rhaenys Targaryen was the cousin of Aemond’s father, but they didn’t get along very well, it was messy, she was the Headmaster to Dragonstone University

“You will have to start in the middle of the year”, she warned, and you only nodded

“It’s what I want”, you assured her, she looked at you, analyzing you

“Good, but first, I need you to finish the courses you are in”, your face said it all as it froze in place, looking at the face of that witch is the last thing you wanted to do

“That is expected of me”, you said, and smiled, she smiled back

“I’ll start with the paperwork, I have already received a letter of recommendation from Ben Tallheart, a representative of Winterfell university that is in the grounds this week”

“Yeah, I’ve met him”, you said smiling shyly

“Good luck finishing the rest of the courses”

Luck, you will need.

After chapter notes: look, if I stopped and wrote all the details of their relationship, this whole fic would be around them, so I narrated what happened instead of making the reader “live it”, get my meaning? This is about healing and seeing that there is something more than “that great love”, so I didn’t stop to focus on the toxic relationship with Aemond, so… One mroe chapter of reader's mess, and we are off to Winterfell! jeje

taglist!

@mxtokko @princesssterek @thefandomimagines @iamavailablesstuff

#misguidedneed #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hbo house of the dragon #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan stark

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sky-kiss · 1 month

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Lucy & Cooper: Eye to Eye

A/N: So short but needed it out of my head. Vague spoilers for the end of Fallout's first season, so be aware.

L & C: Eye to Eye

Vaultie doesn’t talk much for the first couple of days.

Coop tries not to dwell on it—lot easier for him, lot safer for them, if she keeps her mouth shut. Just…well, hell, it’s one of those things that niggles at him, twitching in the back of his mind like a worm on a hook. Dumb fuckin’ fish that he is, Coop lets it draw him in.

The ghoul gives her a once-over as they settle in for the night. Blood’s still crusted on her uniform, near the corner of her mouth, some of it flecked into her hair. A mottled bruise stretches across her cheek and up over her temple, purple at its center before paling to yellows and greens on the edges. Coop knows it hurts, but Vaultie doesn’t say shit.

A noose and a prolonged stay on death’s door, dehydration, and irradiation hadn’t shut her up, but she’s sitting there, staring into the fire, all banged up and silent.

Cooper chews a sardine ponderously. There’s no taste, not anymore, just the tension of flesh and little bones giving way beneath his teeth. He grunts before sliding the rest of the tray across to her. Vaultie doesn’t take it. He clucks his tongue. “Eat when then eatin’ is good, Vaultie. Get deeper into the Wastes and…well.” he shrugs as if the silence should be all the answer she needs. And it should be, but she just goes on staring with her huge doe eyes.

“I’m not hungry.” Almost as an afterthought, she adds. “Thank you.”

“Do what you like. You’re a big girl. And I ain’t your daddy.”

The phrase jostles something in her head. Vaultie’s whole face screws up—nose scrunching, lips curling—and she opens her mouth as if to speak, only for it to snap shut. A muscle twitches in the corner of her mouth and it’s…it’s a hell of a thing.

He doesn’t see his daughter in her face…doesn’t see Barb. He’s looking in a mirror. It’s two centuries ago, and he’s staring at himself—all offended dignity as he reads something unsavory in a script or listens to a suit wax philosophical about a battlefield they’ll never see.

Vaultie must clock something about his reaction. All the stiffness leaves her posture. She just…deflates, eyes dropping. “I know that,” she says, voice soft. Not the “let me de-escalate this situation” bullshit she’d put on in Filly…just human. Very human and so tired. “I’m sorry—it was wrong of me to snap at you.”

Coop almost laughs. He holds his arms out wide instead. “No harm done.”

She goes back to her staring, back to her silence. Something howls off in the distance.

Out of nowhere, and because it’s all just fuckin’ disorienting—the silence, having somebody around again—the ghoul says, “Reckon you’ll kill him?”

“Excuse me?”

He picks nonexistent grit out of his teeth and spits. “Think you know exactly who I mean, sweetheart.” Vaultie cocks her head to the side. Firelight licks at her skin—it makes his hard lines harder, edges more jagged, but for her? She looks soft and young…a gross oversimplification. There’s steel in her eyes. Coop shrugs, flashing a smile that must look horrible. She doesn’t shrink back. “You find it offends your finer sensibilities and I’ll do it for ya.”

“No.” Her tone leaves no room for debate.

“Vaultie, that’s not a word I’m in the habit of hearing.”

“It’s Lucy,” she corrects. “And I…said what I said.” The girl hugs her arms around herself. “He’s still my dad. I don’t want him…” Vau..Lucy pauses. Her brow furrows, “...Well, I guess I don’t know what I want yet. But…I have time.”

“Less and less of it every day.”

She screws up her nose again. “Maybe. But it’s my choice.” It’s the damnedest thing: the words just hang there for a second, silence broken by the crackle of the fire. And then she seems to actively register what she’s said. It’s Lucy MacLean’s choice. She smiles and nods—brilliant and bloodied and somehow still clean. “But…thank you for offering.”

Like he’s suggested giving up his seat on the bus and not filling her daddy full of lead. Fuckin’ Vaulties…Coop shakes his head, “Anytime, sweetheart.”

#fallout #lucy maclean #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout tv #fallout spoilers #fallout fanfic #lucy maclean x cooper howard #dunno that I should tag it as shippy it really isn't #i can feel the hyperfixation growing

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yourheart-inmyhands · 1 month

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I don't know what i should be saying but can i maybe request a part 2 for the yan nuevellete omfg his name its been so long and i cant remember it with the fisherman post sorry if its bad my social skills are trash🥹

ah it's ok and yes his name is very ridiculous lol, sorry this took so long, not sure if you're still interested in reading my content but i tried my best to make this one nice for you :]

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including kidnapping, mentions of reader having a fishhook stuck in them, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Neuvillette is fascinated by what he’s seeing, the sand shifting from soft and loose to tightly packed together and damp from the rolling waves. Normally he would’ve been more mindful to not sully his attire, but right now his attention was on the individual to whom his melusines seemed so attentive.

It’s not surprising that the melusines are so desperate to help, the kind creatures were always the first to lend a hand or rather a paw when they could. But what did surprise Neuvillette, more so than the fish hook, was the creature it was stuck to. Approaching the group, Neuvillette makes his way through the small crowd as gently as he could.

His heart nearly stops when he finally lays eyes on you, your hair still damp with seawater as you try to hold still. The hook is nearly removed by now, but the mark it left behind will surely be permanent.

“I was under the impression that all fishkin were extinct. We have not seen any of you on land in… in decades.” Neuvillette can barely mask the awe in his voice, his eyes flickering over every detail of your form. He can’t believe that he’s actually seeing a real fishman with his eyes, for decades the dragon had believed them to no longer exist, just as every other person living in Fontaine.

“Not extinct, we just stay under the water.” Neuvillette is impressed to hear this, while fishman have always been incredible, they must’ve gone through years of evolutionary changes to be able to survive in such depths. This only draws in more questions and curiosities though. If they were so intent on staying underwater then what was this one doing on land? Surely they wouldn’t dare come close enough to land to get caught in such a simple fishing hook?

Seeing you up close and in person doesn’t nearly curb as much curiosity as Neuvillette would like, so it’s no surprise that he finds some excuse to keep you around for longer. He says he needs you to come into the city with him to file a proper report on what happened, after all this was protected land, there should not have been any fishing gear brought around.

Neuvillette has no intentions of just letting you return to the sea though, instead, he finds some excuse to invite you back to his home, wherein he introduces you to your new place of residence. He’s no monster, he allows you to stay in the pool room where you can dive into the depths of the pool, but until he has satiated his need for knowledge, he is determined to keep you.

It’s sort of the same feeling of having a new little pet, the desire to want to spend every second with them, watching and learning and playing. He understands your frustration, smiling fondly to himself as you sit at the bottom of the pool, pouting. But he simply can’t find it in himself to be sorry. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and he’d be foolish to let it pass him by.

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x male reader #neuvillette x gender neutral reader #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette x gender neutral reader #yandere neuvillette x male reader #yandere genshin #genshin yandere #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette yandere

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klausysworld · 1 year

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Can you make a smut like just pure smut klaus x reader (preferably black/mixed reader)reader is hope Mikealson’s best friend and reader is finally meeting hopes family and she is all hot and bothered by klaus and klaus can tell

“Hii how are you could you maybe make a smut klaus x fem reader hopes best friend (reader)finally meet hope’s family and reader is drawn to klaus and can’t take her eyes off of him and he notices and something happens between them :)”

this was also requested and i wasn’t sure if you could respond to two at once??

Hope and i had been best friends for a while now and i was so nervous about meeting her family. I’ve seen pictures and been told all about them so hopefully everything will be fine but i sort of already have crush on her dad even though i haven’t actually met him?

Hope knows i find him attractive and always makes jokes about it, thankfully she finds it funny instead of making it weird

“i know they’re all gonna love you! You, y/n y/l/n, are gonna become an honorary Mikaelson… or maybe an actual Mikaelson if you marry my dad… will that make me your daughter? should i start calling you Mommy?” i shoved her as we laughed and got out of her car to start walking to to her house, i ended up chasing her most of the way to the door as she fake screamed and ran

“i call maid of honour!” she called as we got to the entrance

“who’s getting married?” was said from behind me making me jump forward towards Hope, she had a big smile on her face as she grabbed my arm

“Dad!! this is y/n remember i told you all about her!?” my face heated up as i ran a hand down my face and glanced at Klaus who looked somehow even better in person than in the photos

“oh god what did you say?” i mumbled shaking my head and both she and her father laughed

“nothing bad love, in fact she said many wonderful things, you enjoy art?” i side eyed a very smiley Hope who was practically buzzing

“she does, she paints too, she’s really good, i think you should show her your art room cuz i know for a fact that she would just looove it, i showed her some of your pieces and her mouth was hanging open like a fish she looked adorable” she rambled but i don’t think Klaus was listening much, he was looking straight into my eyes as his pupil dilated as he licked his bottom lip and hummed

“well them we’ll take her up yes?” he cut hopes rant off and she nodded excitedly

“sure well im gonna see aunt Bex so if you take her to see that- the art! i’ll see you both in a moment” she literally slid out of the room as she slipped and skidded round the corner

“you don’t have to, i think Hopes in a…funny mood” i explained and began walking after her but his large hand took ahold of mine and he spun me back to his chest

“we should go see the art, if she thinks we should see the art then it’s what we should do” i whispered an “okay” in response and he led me up the stairs.

He showed me many paintings and sketches letting me touch the different textures and flip through his books. All the way through he kept a hand on my waist, his face was practically sat in the crook of my neck and he whispered stories of why painted different things. One sketch book had paintings of naked women, or hands touching intimate parts of someone, i felt my panties dampen at the thought of him painting my body, his hands cupping my breasts. He inhaled deeply through his nose and let out a little grunt

“which is your favourite?” he muttered as he bushed himself against me letting me feel his hard on against my ass

“probably that one…” i said quietly pointing to the painting of the women lead on the bed with her back arched and her head thrown back

“mm that was actually a very interesting person, she had very lovely hands you see?” he moved my hand to where hers were, she was squeezing her own breasts, i realised that was the main focus of his drawing, her hands

“you’re very talented Mr Mikaelson” he smirked and rubbed my hip with his thumb

“1000 years of practice can do that, perhaps…you’ll let me do you?” i gulped and slowly turned around so our chests were touching, i was breathing pretty heavily and could feel my breasts brushed against him, i locked eyes with his sapphire ones as i tilted my head up. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine which i immediately reciprocated, they were plump and soft making me push my tongue through them and taste his. He tasted rich and intoxicating making me moan into his mouth and moved my hands to hold the back of his head while his held onto my waist pulling me tightly against him. He moved a hand down and lightly squeezed my ass under my skirt. He pushed his leg in between my thighs and moved me along his jeans, the fabric quickly darkened with my wetness as it went through my underwear onto him. I panted when he moved his mouth down to suck along my jaw and then down and back up my neck finding my sweet spot just below my ear and paying it extra attention. I moaned again louder and i began grinding against him harder. He brought his hands down to lift me up by my thighs, i wrapped my legs around him as he connected our mouths again.

Our tongues entwined and the sound of pages scattering the floor filled the room, i was put into the now empty table, i was pushed flat on my back and my legs were pulled to the edge

“you look so bloody beautiful spread our like this, suck a lovely dress” he told me and kissed down my neck to my cleavage, he ran his tongue along the swell of my breasts. I arched my back and moved my hands up to undo some of the buttons going down so he had better access to them. Klaus gently cupped them both and then attached his lips to my left one making me gasp. He tugged on it and swirled his tongue around it before giving the same affection to the other one. He undid the rest of the buttons and pushed it off my arms leaving me completely bare for him.

Nervousness flooded through me and i brought my knees up to my chest so i was covered

“i want to see you y/n, all of you” he whispered and pulled my knees apart to look at my most private area. The vulnerability of being so open for him while he was still fully clothed had me avoiding any eye contact as he studied me.

“you are magnificent you know that? absolutely divine” he announced moved so he was off the table and pulling me to the edge, he went down onto his knees and held my legs open

“do you want this, love?” he whispered locking eyes with me

“i- i do” he smirked in response and his tongue darted out. His hot tongue kitten licked at my clit, my hands flew to his hair and pulled him towards me breathing out his name as though it were a prayer

“lay back love” he instructed before his actions became more. He was now sucking harshly at my clit and his tongue teased my entrance making me gasp a moan. I opened my legs as wide as they would go when his skilful tongue entered me, he expertly plunged it within me and i called out for him desperately. The dreams i had were no where near as brilliant as the real thing. I could feel myself fluttering around his tongue, his thumb went to my clit and drew figures of eight upon it, he gradually got faster and i pulled at his sandy locks. The burning sensation pulsed through me, my nails scratched his scalp, his groan adding to the pure pleasure coursing inside while my toes curled and i came into his mouth. His thumb slowed and gently tapped my clit as he licked up every last drop that escaped me.

“You taste fantastic y/n” he whispered and kissed me again letting me see how sweet i was in his mouth.

“can you take your clothes off now” i asked shyly still playing with his curls. He smirked and kissed my lips again

“i suppose it’s only fair” he said while removing his shirt. I gaped at his toned body and couldn’t help but run my fingertips down his torso as he undid his belt, when i glanced down to his underwear i audibly swallowed

“i know you’re going to be so good for me” he uttered stroking my cheek with his palm while palming himself

“how…how do you want me?” i hesitated before asking still eyeing his thickness, almost drooling when he twitched

“Let’s get you on the floor” he pulled me down from the table and onto the floor

“hands and knees love” he whispered and i did as told. He disappeared for a second before returning with a pillow, he stretch my arms and and told me to rest my head on the pillow. I arched my back for him and shivered at the thoughts running through my mind

“you’re sure?”

“i’m positive” i replied

A moment later his tongue was in my folds again gathering my juices and sliding into my centre before exiting again and shifting himself forward, his hands rubbed my ass and down my back, he gripped onto my hips and guided me onto his dick. My tight walls swallowed him as soon as he entered his thick length and we both moaned.

“oh god” i mumbled and stretched myself further

“not god love, just me” he slowly removed himself until just is tip remained inside me before thrusting back in forcefully and building a rhythm from there

“i don’t think ‘just me’ is a fair answer there, you’re basically a god” he gave a breathy laugh and continued moving, i had never felt so full in my life, his cock buried far inside me hitting my g-spot just right making me cry out for him to continue. He gave guttural moans from behind me. His hands moved up my back and got ahold of the area between my neck and shoulders, he pulled me back into him to meet his forceful jolts. I tightened around him and i could feel my clit screaming to be touched, almost as if he could read my mind one hand left my shoulder and went to his mouth before down against my bundle of nerves.

“you going to cum for me sweet y/n?” he asked as he twitched inside me and his thrusts became slightly sloppy. I nodded rapidly and my body shook with the force he used to fuck me. i squeezed the pillow between my hands and cried out a moan of his name as i clamped around him and let him fill me with his hot fluid.

He rocked into me for a while longer before slipping out of me and letting out a sigh of contentment. My body relaxed and my face pressed into the pillow, my ass was still propped in the air and i groaned at the ache in my core pushed myself up on my arms and then my hands and rolled over to sit down

“did i do okay?”

“you did perfectly, come here” i crawled over to him and he tilted my head to kiss my lips slowly and softly

“Hope’s waiting for us and you need to meet everyone else but next time i’ll take you out for a romantic dinner, i’ll get you another pretty dress, your favourite flowers which i already know because Hope has told me everything i could need to know and then if you want something like this again ill have you in my bed” i blushed dark and nodded smiling

“i’d like that very much”

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clone-anon · 8 days

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Alrighty, the finale had me growing gray hairs, and I desperately need some fluff...

(Which you can take as long as you need to write it cause I'm sure we're all in the same boat processing this shit-)

Aaaaanywhoooo- it's Chopper (which, is it really a surprise by now??)

Could I possibly get a Crosshair x m!reader who are in a relationship who get a cute date on the beach? Swimming, hanging out, having a good time on Pabu? (We all know that boy needs a vacation)

I am still processing, but this is something I think I can write. As we all know, every clone is still alive on this blog and I have my thoughts about who is actually still alive in canon. That said, @chopper-base I hope you don't mind me replying here instead of an ask so people can see the prompt. I know the gif doesn't totally fit, but he is happy here as he deserves to be.

You watched Crosshair mess with this cybernetic hand at the breakfast table. Of course he knew you were watching. He still had tremors. Losing a hand didn't fix his mind and if anything the phantom pains made it worse.

You crawled on to his lap and gently took his hand in yours. He smiled at you cautiously, but trusted you. His wrist shook, but as you massaged his arm and silently invited him to take some deep breaths with you, it started to subside.

"We should get you some swim trunks," you suggested seemingly out of no where.

"Swim trunks?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Unless you want to go skinny dipping," you added with a grin.

"Maybe not on this particular island. Too many sets of eyes," he answered.

Crosshair had never seen or heard of swim trunks in his life until he met you. He had never gone swimming for fun. It was part of his training as a cadet, but he had never seen anyone just get in the water and play around until he saw you on the beach one day while taking a walk with Batcher.

You got up and took his hand in yours and walked to the shop. Pabu didn't have everything in the galaxy, but there was a nice variety of clothing and he felt heat run to his cheeks the moment you picked up what looked more like underwear than swim trunks.

"You could so pull these off," you said with a hopeful smile. Crosshair was tempted, but he already felt vulnerable enough with this missing hand. He instead decided on a pair of teal and orange trunks that ended about half way up his thigh. You stopped at home again to change and Crosshair decided to leave his cybernetic hand there. He wasn't sure how well the electric components would do in the salt water and he didn't want to be stressed about it. Batcher decided she wanted to come along. You covered each other in sunscreen, grabbed a shaved ice treat to share, and wandered down to your favorite swimming spot.

You got in the water and Batcher followed, splashing and barking. Crosshair couldn't help but smile. How did he get this lucky? He felt he was barely out of prison and he found a boyfriend. A partner, even. And when he came back with a hand missing you never thought less of him. In fact, you seemed more worried about how it would affect him. You held his wrist as if it didn't bother you.

"Come on!" you called.

He strode into the water and stood where you were treading. He was a bit taller than you were, but you used this to your advantage, leaned on him, and snaked your legs around his waist, drawing confidence out of him. He held you and walked further into the ocean until you were both drifting a bit, but not too far away. Batcher doggy-paddled past you as she tried chasing a school of fish and Crosshair laughed. Tears came to his eyes as he held you and watched her while laughing with his full chest. The damn had broken. All these things that were held in for so long came out in that one moment of seeing his dog's silliness and being with you. He pressed a kiss to your temple and spun you around in the water. It was a warm day and the first of many you spend at that spot. For the first time in his life, he was actually free and felt it.

#tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x m!reader #crosshair x reader #crosshair x m!reader #crosshair x masc reader #tbb crosshair x masc reader #reader insert #crosshair #crosshair anon #pabu #tbb fanfiction #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #swimming

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weirdmarioenemies · 8 months

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Name: Snailspace

Debut: Yo-Kai Watch 3

Wow. A regular, cartoon snail, huh? No frills, nothing? There is no clever concept on display here. I mean, a snail itself is a clever concept! A squishy, vulnerable creature that carries its own armor to retract into? That's awesome! But Yo-Kai Watch 3 did not make this concept. Animals made this concept. This is pretty much nothing but a cartoon snail.

And I love those!!! Yippee!!! You're telling me this monster collecting game lets me befriend a regular cartoon snail and train it to be a STRONG snail? And lets it follow me around town wherever I go? And lets me PLAY as it? Yowza! There must be a catch here... but there isn't!

Perhaps I am just very easy to impress in some regards, but I am very happy that Snailspace is JUST a snail, with no funny business going on. Nothing to detract from it. I can't think of an example of something that would detract. I'm tired. But Snailspace is perfect the way it is, is what I'm saying. ESPECIALLY because it has eyestalks! My favorite feature on a creature!

I would like to talk about a different collectible snail monster for a moment. Hello Magcargo! You are a wonderful snail monster! A snail made of lava with a rock shell is an extremely awesome concept, and executed well! Magcargo even has big drippy mouth drips, reminiscent of a gastropod's tentacles! But it just doesn't have eyestalks, and to me, that is a very big deal. Magcargo's face looks like a frog's, and I love frogs, we all do, but this is a snail monster! I just always think that an animal-based design should take advantage of the unique features of the animal.

In fact, I once did this little edit of Magcargo's original sprite to give it eyestalks, and I instantly love it so much more! Eye positioning does so much for a design's overall personality! Eyestalks are really just one of the coolest anatomical features a creature can have, and I don't know why, so often, they will be completely ignored in fictional snail designs, inevitably making the design LESS striking than it would otherwise be. I know not all snails in real life have eyestalks, of course, but they are really such an iconic feature, absolutely perfect for exaggerating in a design.

Maybe it's not fair to spend so much of Snailspace's post talking about a different, much more known snail monster. There is stuff to love about Snailspace itself! I love its sleepy eyelids, I love its weird tall mouth, I love its color scheme! I guess it's not just ANY cartoon snail. You know... maybe there's not a such thing as just a cartoon snail. Whether intentional or not, any given person drawing a snail will put their own spin on it, however subtle. And isn't that wonderful? No one draws a snail quite like you do!

If you are not familiar with Yo-Kai Watch, I would like to delight you with some Funny Facts. Firstly, Yo-Kai are organized into "tribes" that each tend to excel in certain battle attributes. Snailspace is a member of my favorite tribe, which is Slippery! A whole official category of slimy and/or wiggly creatures! Snailspace is right at home with snakes, fish, frogs, bananas, and even a bungee jumping teapot!

Snailspace is also classified as a 'Merican Yo-Kai. The third game features the protagonist moving from Japan to America, and meeting American Yo-Kai! The localization, however, had previously tried to convince he had been in America the whole time. How did they get around this? Instead of moving overseas to the USA, he moves further south to a different region, called BBQ! It is so stupid. I love it.

'Merican Yo-Kai are a weird category. Sometimes they're based on American stereotypes, but often it feels kind of like a meaningless title. I don't know why a Snail is specifically an American concept. I mean, I have certainly encountered many snails in America! I guess they're not wrong! But not every 'Merican Yo-Kai can be as iconic for the role as, for example, a baseball-playing chicken nugget.

Anyway, Snailspace is an excellent snail! It does not take much for a snail to make me smile! I hope this is true for you, too! Have you looked at a snail lately? Check under your local rocks in the dirt and maybe you just might find a marvelous mollusk to behold!

#snailspace #yo kai watch 3 #magcargo #pokemon gold and silver #not mario #funky friday #mod chikako

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bonefall · 7 months

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Now this had me thinking... Would Willowpelt die in the same way as canon (although to another creature im assuming since bb!badgers aren't as dangerous as they are in canon)? If she's getting kept around longer, maybe Cricketclaw is the one who sacrifices herself instead? That sounds like a fitting way for her to go, considering she couldn't protect her own siblings?

I feel like I should add a TM to anything that I'm working on in my drafts that has significant progress and is blog-plot-relevant, that will explain something exactly like this LMAO

Forgive me I am, at heart, a bear that eats half a salmon and then forgets I had a fish at all

Willowpelt's brush with death is staying, and is actually a bit plot relevant in Firestar's Quietus! I have a very specific scene which is actually totally written out-- actually fuck it, I'll just post it here

Context and narrative purpose of this scene:

Firestar is informed of a boar on the territory, and gathers a little scouting patrol to try and figure out what sort of hog it is.

VERY IMPORTANT SEGWAY. Because of how Willowpelt gets bitten here and Firestar loses a life saving Sorrelpaw, they all end up in the Cleric's den where Ferncloud is telling a story both to practice her new job as upcoming Educator and to comfort everyone.

The fact Willowpelt is not dead is how I get Littlecloud away from Runningnose and Firestar

Runningnose has a hunch, in this moment, that goody two-shoes little Firestar might be the perfect person to help Brokenstar, and teases the visions and revelations he's about to have

Establishes that boars are the new Big Bad Beastie of BB

Presents Sorrelpaw's epilepsy and demonstrates how it is a danger to her safety

(this is a lot of buildup but this is actually pretty short lmao)

So anyway before I let you go on to the readmore and a preview of Firestar's Quietus, no one takes Willowpelt's death here, and Willow is going to hang on for longer. I wanted to make sure I have a good amount of cats to kill off in the carnage of the White Hart's destruction.

Wherever Cricketclaw dies, it will be for a purpose. Either to show how bloody the TNP conflicts are, or in a greencough epidemic because I'm trying to make sure those aren't just "Kill a bunch of randos offscreen" disease anymore.

WILLOWPELT'S BOAR

The patrol is Sandstorm and Sorrelpaw, Willowpelt, Longtail and Sootpaw, and himself. It's just supposed to be for scouting, hence why the apprentices are coming along.

Unfortunately the hog has other plans, lunging out of a bush and going for Sootpaw

Willowpelt jumps in the way and gets bitten instead

Sorrelpaw acts quick, slashing its sensitive nose, drawing its attention and bolting as fast as she can

RIGHT as she crosses the Thunderpath, her body goes limp and she falls to the ground

She is having an absence seizure, and fallen flat on the road

The hog is hot on her heels, bowling after her, when a monster screeches to a halt out of nowhere

The hog is frozen in the headlights, Firestar bursts into action to pull Sorrelpaw out of the road

(i hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums) BUMP BUMP

The boar and Firestar have been hit by, have been struck by, an automobile

When he sees StarClan, they're about to greet him with love. But their faces turn to shock and fear, the scenery becoming sinister and trees falling down.

A fifth oak tree is crashing down towards them. Firestar stares at it, dumbstruck.

Just before it strikes him, his eyes snap open

Firestar resurrects with a burst of energy, dragging Sorrelpaw off the road and into the safety of a fern on the ShadowClan side

The humans are coming out of the car to examine the boar they struck, but Firestar doesn't have time to consider that or his vision.

Littlecloud's head pokes out of the foliage and he springs into action, checking them both for injury. Breathless, Firestar points behind him and rasps, "Willowpelt!"

Littlecloud nods and bolts across the road.

Runningnose saunters out from a different angle-- one where he would have been able to see the road. Everything that happened.

His gaze is unsettling as ever, pausing, eyeing the leader up and down.

He starts tending to Sorrelpaw, then mumbles,

"Brave of you."

"It's what any leader would have done."

"No. It's what you always do."

Firestar doesn't know how to respond to that, but he's glad Runningnose isn't staring at him anymore.

But continues, "You will learn terrible things in the days to come, Firestar, and StarClan will not answer the questions that find you. If you seek the truth, meet me by the mothermouth on the night after the next gathering."

Sorrelpaw is leaning up now, her eyes dazed and confused, as if she's trying to figure out what happened.

#So Crick could still get killed in the Boar Attack of BB!TNP #But I'm unsure yet. It's not a pressing matter either though #Because I also wouldn't mind just keeping her around until a Po3 epidemic #But there's THREE deadly events in TNP so it makes the most sense for her to meet her maker there.#Firestar's Quietus #better bones au

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non-plutonian-druid · 1 year

Text

[ID: 11 doodles of Umbrella Academy characters in a style imitating the webcomic Paranatural. Allison, Luther, Diego, Klaus, Viktor, and Lila are drawn as kids, approximately 12 yrs old. Ben is a similarly aged ghost. Hazel, Cha Cha, and the Handler are present as well, all looking vaguely villainous. Five is drawn to be maybe in his twenties. All of them have colorful smoke rising from them indicating the powers from Paranatural, except for Viktor and Lila, for whom the smoke is white. End ID.]

Look, a Paranatural au! I wish I had been hit by this muse in time for Masked Author/Artist, but alas it was not to be. If you've read Paranatural is you can probably guess.... basically everything there is to know about this au. If you haven't read Parantural, you should!! It's a wild ride! But also I rambled for a super long time about it under the cut

Everyone has cool spirit powers and can see the dead, so Klaus isn't special sorry Klaus. I'm making up for it by making him directly possessed by a spirit that gives him superpowers, instead of everyone else who has to use a possessed object to get superpowers. I didn't put a ton of thought into what Cool Accessory (possessed object) to give the kids so I could change that later, but for now Allison has a megaphone, Diego has a yo-yo, Viktor has his violin, and Luther doesn't have anything because his dad thinks he needs to learn to control spirit energy on his own. Klaus doesn't have any either because he's possessed directly. I adjusted the rules of Parantural slightly because [Paranatural spoilers!!] in the comic someone with white energy can connect with spirits whose energy is any color. Viktor's should absolutely be white by show rules, but that power set suits Lila a lot better. So in this au, the rules are adjusted so that white can only connect with white, and Lila's is actually colorless (IE, it only looks white now because the background is white). She can't bond with any one spirit for long, but she can bond with any of them for a short time.

Hazel, Cha Cha, Five kind of, and the Handler are all members of a version of Paranatural's Consortium, which I'm just going to call the Commission again because why not. As you may be able to guess, it's slightly more villainous in this au than the Consortium. I wanted AJ to be a high ranking member, but if I made him the Handler's spirit then we wouldn't get to see him ever, so I made him Five's. This was before I remembered that people possessed by spirits look more and more like their spirit over time so the fish head thing could still totally work, so I might revisit that. Hazel and Cha Cha's spirits look like thier masks, of course. I didn't spend much time on the mask/spirit redesign so they're not as fun and funky as I'd like, but they're still reasonable stand-ins. The Handler is this version of the Boss Leader because.... duh. If you've been keeping up with Parantural and are wondering about how That One Thing About Boss Leader translates... I haven't decided yet.

Five is the Mr. Spender of this au. He is possibly the least Mr. Spender-like character to ever exist, but look me in the eyes and tell me that acting as the teacher-supervisor of a club of unruly kids that can see ghosts who is secretly part of a nefarious (?) organization is not where he belongs.

I have a few more doodles of this waiting in the wings! Mostly of Five because I love him. But also if you have stuff you want to see, send it in. No promises I'll draw your suggestion, but the main obstacle between me and drawing more of this is not having concrete ideas for situations to put characters in

#tua #the umbrella academy #allison hargreeves #diego hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #luther hargreeves #lila pitts #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #the handler tua #hazel and cha cha #hazel tua #cha cha tua #paranatural #for good measure #LORD #every time i make an ensemble art piece i forget what a gd trial tagging it is #anyway this might be the first time ive posted art featuring my bowlcut baby viktor agenda?#the agenda is that if youre drawing baby viktor in an au where he transitioned as a kid i firmly believe he would have a bowlcut #i tried out a new hairstyle on allison too #oh lmao also the worst thing about this style is that it goes all in on the eyes so pupil + iris #so for the first time i had to go figure out what color everyones eyes are LMAO.#i did not bother w this for the handler and hazel and cha cha bc i was sick of looking up reference by then #oh god dammit #i forgot to tag #my art #again. smh

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puzzled-pegasus · 7 months

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Wof Tribe Headcanons

IceWings have lots of variety in the shapes of their horns. They can be straight, curved, looped like a ram's, or branched like antlers.

IceWings can have gray or green eyes as well as blue.

Somewhat of a given but IceWings have blue gums. I noticed this while drawing one with bared teeth lol

SeaWings have a coating of slime on their scales to help them glide through the water, like a fish. Because of this, they always feel wet to the touch.

More of a redesign than a headcanon but I feel like SandWings should be able to have a gene for rattle tails instead of barbed. Additionally, they should have mouth venom like a NightWing.

SkyWings are particularly closely related to RainWings and can change color very slightly between shades of red, orange, or pink.

Solid color dragons are boring af so guess what! They can have markings! Stripes, tails of different shades, spots, speckles, freckles, face stars, muzzles, blazes, tail tips.

Many MudWings have green mixed in with their scales to blend in to more mossy or algae filled swamp land. They can also have green or yellow eyes as well as brown.

SkyWings have a holiday like Halloween, where they carve gourd lanterns and make sweets and whatnot and the high status ones paint their faces and wear costumes because it's the night where the spirits can come down from the sky and cause Mayhem and I'm not sure what other traditions it would entail but the war and Queen Scarlet and all that kinda made it not fun for a while so they stopped celebrating as much but Ruby is bringing back the Fun and doing pair costumes with Cliff

SandWings grow marijuana

NightWings can have silver freckles

The only tribes that have SLIT PUPILS should be SeaWings and NightWings because SeaWings have good night vision and NightWings also should, as they are in fact up at night.

This fact in mind, NightWings should 100 percent have LIGHT eye colors because LIGHT eye colors reflect more light so one can SEE BETTER AT NIGHT. These colors should include yellow, orange, green, and blue, maybe purple because they're all mystical. Not black eyes like are described on Darkstalker.

SandWings are often superstitious and things like magicicans, psychics, witchcraft, onstage shows are common jobs. It was probably originally an idea to trick people into paying them for lying, but it caught on and now many people believe it. Storytelling is also a common job.

NightWing wings have sort of feathery edges like an owl, allowing for near silent flight at night.

Falconry is common in SkyWings because birds of prey are the only pet they can have follow them and be even close to keeping up with them in the sky.

I've probably said this before but uh?? Where's our tribe flags??? They need flags and symbols and stuff??

RainWings have flat molars because they eat more fruit than any other tribe and have for thousands of years

SilkWings can have fuzz like moths! They can have patches of it, or a line down their back, or a tail tuft, or be completely covered!

SeaWings can have barbels like catfish. This makes them especially useful at hunting for shellfish. SeaWings and SandWings also have heat sensors.

SandWings can taste the air like a snake. Their tongues flick out whenever they are intrigued. They have a bit of a lisp because their tongues are unusually shaped.

#wings of fire headcanons #wof tribe headcanons

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gumnut-logic · 1 month

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“Hey, Virg, c’mere.”

Virgil nearly lost his drink as Gordon yanked on his arm. “Gordon?!”

His fish brother muttered something that could possibly be considered an apology in some reality, somewhere, but kept pulling, dragging Virgil across the room.

They were at a London function, dressed to the nines, cufflinks and all, and Virgil had been in a very interesting conversation with his plus one. That plus one being Cass McCready and she was dressed in a most appealing manner that had him itching for a paintbrush…among other things.

Instead, he was being dragged across the floor by his fish brother and Cass was fast vanishing behind him in the crowd.

Her amused smile was rather alluring at least.

Gordon and he were going to have words after this.

His brother finally stopped tugging when they reached a group of rather burly looking men and women. All of them were dressed in evening wear, but there was a certain anticipation in all their expressions.

What?

A small table had been set up with two chairs. A particularly large man was sitting in one of them, an air of confidence emanating off of him.

Virgil stared.

“Virg, it is up to you to uphold how Tracy honour.” Gordon straightened beside him.

“What?”

“I need you to arm wrestle this man and prove your heavy lifting muscles to these dunderheads.”

There was a muffle of snorts at that and Virgil suddenly realised he knew a couple of these guys.

This was Blue Squad. Cass’ firefighting team.

A soft sigh of silk and Cass appeared at his elbow. “Looks like you have a challenge there, Tracy.” She was smiling at him.

It was a nice smile.

“C’mon, Virg, Tracy honour is at stake.”

He turned to his brother and glared, only to find Penelope on the fish’s arm.

Oh, honour, definitely.

Shows of masculinity really weren’t his thing. Scott had been known to flex his muscles occasionally for the ladies, even if it wasn’t immediately obvious, but Virgil was quite happy to draw attention in other ways.

Cass placed a hand on his arm and whispered in his ear. “The team need a little encouragement. Show them how it is done.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. This was her squad…and then he saw the sparkle in her eye. His lips curled as he saw the pride in her people shining there.

“Virg…” It was almost a whine as Gordon tugged on his tux again.

“Okay. Fine.”

“Yess!”

Gordon should never play poker.

Or maybe he should. His military brother did know how to play a situation, after all. This was possibly all a show.

Virgil folded himself into the chair opposite and found himself looking up at the firey opposite him. “Hi. Virgil Tracy.”

“Butch Huggins.” His voice was like a rumbling rock fall and his smile ever so confident. This was definitely a guy you wanted on your side when busting into a building on fire. He looked like he could take down a wall even in his tux.

Gordon, what the hell have you gotten me into?

A glance up at the spectators involved and he found himself ringed in eager smiles, Cass’ included.

She did have a lovely smile.

“Are we doing this?” The rock fall was apparently getting impatient.

Virgil swallowed and, unclipping his cufflinks, a present from Scott some time ago, rolled up his sleeve.

Butch did the same, revealing tattoos of flame up the length of well-defined forearm.

Maybe he should have brought his exosuit with him tonight.

The image of his claw and everything it was capable of filled his mind for a moment.

Gordon was dead when they got home tonight.

One dead fish.

And Scott might even grill him. Yes, Virgil was petty enough to bring in big bro on this one.

Where was Scott anyway?

Probably enjoying some female company. This Firey’s Charity Ball was full of very capable women, after all.

Butch slammed his elbow down on the table enough to trigger Virgil’s funny bone from afar.

Okay, well, apparently he was doing this.

Why did he feel so small? He wasn’t used to feeling small.

But confidence wasn’t something he was lacking, it was just the laws of physics didn’t seem to be leaning in his direction at the moment.

Cursing his fish brother from here to Atlantis, Virgil placed his elbow on the table. Butch grabbed his hand.

It was like being grabbed by a gorilla. Honestly, the man’s hand was huge.

If he was injured doing this and off rescues for any time at all, Gordon wasn’t going to be the only Tracy death later on.

Scott would kill both of them.

Cass was watching, though.

Virgil kicked himself for being so stupid.

Could he kill Gordon twice?

“Okay, we ready?” Gordon was flicking his eyes between Virgil and Butch.

“Ready.” Seriously, the man had a crumbling mountain for a voice.

“Let’s get this over with.” Virgil glared at his little brother.

Though something was warm in his stomach that Gordon was proud enough of him to set him up like this.

A little warm.

Very little.

“Ready, set…” Focus. “Go.”

And suddenly the mountain was falling on him.

Butch grunted, obviously throwing himself into this.

But Virgil Tracy had had mountains fall on him before and his shoulders were well trained in catching them.

The force travelled up his arm into his shoulder. His bicep was assisted by a considerable trapezius and deltoid, and while his forearm worked, his well-built pectoral joined in the refusal to move. Virgil pivoted just a little in his seat as practised reflexes took the strain.

And negated it.

Butch yelped as his hand was flexed backwards and slammed elegantly to the table top.

Oh, shit.

Virgil let go immediately. “Are you okay? Let me see that.” He reached for the man’s hand as it was quickly yanked away the moment he released it.

Butch stared at him. “How the hell?”

But Virgil didn’t have the chance to answer as the crowd around them erupted into cheers and hollers. There were hands patting him on the back and grabbing at him.

Someone kissed his cheek.

He blushed as he realised it was Cass.

Suddenly appreciating that he was still sitting down and there was an entire squad of fireman glaring at him…with some respect along with the outrage, Virgil hurriedly clambered to his feet.

“Way to go, Virg, I knew you could do it!” Gordon was bouncing on his feet.

Virgil shot him with his eyes.

The fish ignored him and kept bouncing until Penelope wrapped an elegant hand around his arm and distracted him with a smile.

She winked at Virgil.

A strong hand wrapped around Virgil’s bicep in almost a mirror move. “Smooth, Tracy. Huggins needed to be put in his place. I can use this to up the training regime. You’ve slapped down a benchmark.”

Virgil turned to find that beautiful smile on her face again. Her squad was grumbling behind her, shooting admiring glances mixed with glares in his direction.

Maybe he should join the squad next vacation just to fix that.

Yes, that was the entire reason why that suddenly seemed even more attractive.

Cass’ smile widened as she tugged gently on his arm, letting her head drop to his shoulder as it became a laugh.

Hmm, maybe he should thank the fish after killing him.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #cass mccready #nuttyfic reblog #romance #but only a hint #a reblog to make up for the lack of fic in my previous post

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