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beautifulsnake2162020 · 2 years

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Beautiful Anomaly (Part 7): Morpheus x FReader

Gif from tumblr user "the-darklings" post: https://at.tumblr.com/the-darklings/matthew-calling-wanderer-lady-dream-killed-me/psm2s17nu4so

Morpheus x FemReader (present day, its a little hard to explain)

A couple of disclaimers:

1.) This is all based on the Netflix show and I have 0 background on the graphic novel it is based on (so don't expect it to be faithful);

2.) This is a fan work, the only benefit I derive from this is sharing it with the community.

AN: Hello thank you for your patience. This is going to be shorter than the other chapters but don't worry we'll pick up where we left off in Part 8. Btw I have gleaned that some of you may or may not be comfortable with smut or sex scenes (there's none here don't worry and I don't proclaim to be very good at them), and just so you know, Part 8 onwards I'll do my best to save the love scenes for the very end part so it doesn't break the flow of the story but you can leave without having to read it.

For those of you who are new. I highly recommend reading the previous parts first because I don’t know if you will understand everything without first reading those.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4/ Part 5 / Part 6

Taglist (if you want to be a part of the taglist just comment requesting so) : @winxschester @true-queen-of-mischief @laydreams @memento-mora @daydreamin1220 @kuchokitty @fate-huntress @igotanidea @mikariell95 @seninjakitey

"What do you think will happen once we go to the Threshold?"

"Knowing my sibling, they may probably use any means to turn us against each other."

"But what would be the point?"

"It doesn't matter. They are simply fulfilling their urges. Whatever they do doesn't need to have a point. Only that it has fulfilled my sibling's whims."

You take a breath as the portal to the Threshold opens and taking his hand (only for safety since you haven't went into the Threshold from the Dreaming for as long as you can remember) you two emerge through it. You immediately let go once you've ascertained that you safely made it from the Dreaming into the Threshold.

"Dearest sweet Life. It's been awhile since you've been here. Although why you would choose to be here with Dream is almost beyond my understanding."

"We know what you've been doing my sibling. And I have previously warned you of the possible consequences that should occur."

"Hmm as far as I remember, your threats were only about your affairs, not the affairs of others. So this really shouldn't count."

"Both of you, stop it. It is me who has been the most injured this time Morpheus, let me have my say. And you, Desire will give me answers." You say sternly looking at both of them. You wait for Morpheus to briefly take a step back before turning your attention to Desire. He doesn't leave the area but he does allow you to have the space to lead this confrontation.

"What is your point in your recent machinations against me? Is it because I sent Despair crying at her failure in making me remove my mental barriers? Last I checked we were quite civil during the lifetime I gave the world Melike. Tell me Desire, short of the unreasonable what do you have against me?"

Desire makes a scoff before a sarcastic laugh. And as most of the time you've seen Desire, their smile doesn't reach their eyes.

"We are still civil Life, you may not believe me for I can feel your urge to punch and strangle me right now, but I truly do care for you. As for what you may think are machinations working against you and serving as obstacles as you live your lifetimes, I'm actually doing you a favor."

"Well sorry for being concerned that my life and the world was in danger. You are the only person apart from Despair that could have told Mark Gal Lanes of my abilities as well as the mental bonds I have with all of my children. Do you realize that had I been forced to do what he demands, not only would mine and his life end but also that all life as we currently know it would also end?"

"But it didn't." Desire moves to put themselves closer to you. Not quite personal space invading yet but definitely to force you into being more rigid that you involuntarily cross your arms on front of your chest in your disapproval.

"I knew that your desire to save the world and do your duties was too strong for that to happen. And I also knew you were smart enough that you wouldn't be naïve to simply rescue your child without bringing harm to yourself. As I've guessed you were able to ask help from others, and Mark Gal Lanes didn't really pose a threat to you."

"You're evading my question Desire, what was the point of having him abuse my daughter, and through her suffering not only was I placed in danger since it is no secret that I would help my children but I was also made aware that someone outside the magical community knows of the bonds that I have with my children and the misconception of what my powers can do. Will you please just get to the point? If this is for some sort of revenge over what I have done or if this is for me refusing to simply do what you will beyond reason then just say it already."

Desire laughs, and it makes you uneasy for it is clear that from their non-verbal response that the answer is not one of your guesses.

"The point dearest Life, is that this is all a test for your benefit." You feel yourself raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"And what was it for? That I am still the barometer of balance of the Endless family?"

"Oh you're quite mistaken." They say as they show you a huge smirk.

"It wasn't to test you. It was to test Dream." You feel your eyes widen and his footsteps towards the two of you.

"Have you not considered the threat I gave you last time." Morpheus says, his tone low and almost growling.

"Oh I have considered it, and this is hardly any of your affairs big brother. You volunteered to involve yourself yet you still had the choice not to do so."

"I do not like being played with sibling."

"Morpheus please allow me." You tell him with warning to back off.

"What were you testing him for? And get to the point please." You say in a tone that hopefully left no room for further side comments.

"Life, I know you're a lot smarter than that. But because I do care about you, and while the way that you think gives me immeasurable entertainment, I'll tell you." Desire responds with a grin that makes a part of you uneasy.

"This was to test how Dream here would react and how compatible would he be for you."

"As what?"

"As a romantic partner of course. Isn't that what you've been doing all this time Dream?"

"But why take the initiative to set this up?" You ask before Morpheus could respond.

"I've already said that I do care for you, even though you obviously don't always see it that way. Dream here has not only blamed me for the past failures of his romances, but as you know has a tendency to overreact and even sabotage them completely of his own doing."

"I was doing what I thought was right."

"Which isn't always the case. Just because Nada defied you didn't give you any reason to place her in Hell. Calliope was one of the lucky ones who left you before things got worse between the two of you over what happened to Orpheus." Desire says with unhidden wrath. Even though it wasn't directed to you, you nevertheless felt the sting of his words.

"Don't forget brother that no matter what you do, I know what any being desires, even you and even Life here. And I will be damned if she more than anyone would suffer the consequence of your affections when you yourself are either ignorant of it or simply refuse to see it."

"Do you Desire? Or do you want her for yourself?"

"Oh please Dream, if I wanted her for myself, I would've manipulated her desires a long time ago."

"Since I am your test subject, what was all this to prove?"

"It was to see what you would do, what you would say if something were to happen to Life beyond the ordinary hazards of her duties."

"You were the one who placed me there in the first place!"

"A risk I would rather take than you being heartbroken by this oaf over here who couldn't even directly tell you his own desire for you."

What?

Wait

What?

"Isn't that right Dream? There is no use denying it."

"You've been known to lie."

"All three of us has. And honestly brother, you are the worse among us here in this case. You know of her subconscious thoughts even though you give her the agency to choose what to do with them. You've known for awhile even before you two argued over your silly little contract that caused you two to disconnect. And yet you did nothing to let it be known to her."

You find yourself looking at Morpheus as he glares at Desire.

"Morpheus? Is that true?"

"Oh that's not even the worse part of it. One of the things I despised was that he had the gall to say he does things for the sake of his love for you. Haven't you noticed dear life that most frequently he would only engage in romances only after some arbitrary hidden confirmation that you've somehow stopped loving him and have moved on to one earthly lover to the next? I may know the full extent of your polyamorous heart apart from you, but to him and his fixed ways he would rather be the mournful regretting lover over something that was never his to possess. You can ask him for the details later when the two of you are alone, but that Hob Gabling contract? He did that to understand humanity yes; but most of all it was all made in an effort to woo you with sudden new insights on humanity. And we all know how that turned out."

Maybe it was just because you were still asleep and dreams are hardly the time to have so many information simply dumped on your human brain. But you feel dizzy from what Desire has just revealed to you. You could even sense that right now they aren't even lying.

"Again Desire, what was the point of all of this? Was Despair making a visit to me just this the entire time?"

"The point in everything so far, has been to expose Dream's flaws as a lover. You more than anyone already know of his flaws as a being. But a lot of times you are blind to his flaws as a partner. Recently he has been starting to make attempts to actually woo you and I had to act. I know how both of you are when you two experience heartbreak. The Endless may be unable to recover if you were to experience the ultimate heartbreak from Dream of all beings."

"I would never do that to her."

"You say that now, but your history says otherwise. Life is one of us Dream, she is above a mere mortal that you could condemn to the deepest parts of Hell or a Goddess you could simply leave. She is the reason why we even exist and why mortals think of us. If after this you still decide to pursue her and if she will still have you, I will be closely watching your ways. Because if you two should break each other's hearts, the possible consequences will be felt by all of us more than just a vortex."

"So is this it then? You would rather there is discord in our relationship just as the two of us resent each other? Just so she would become closer to you and -"

"Let me stop you right there Dream." Desire says in a dangerous tone that wouldn't allow room for any argument or interference.

"It is not up to me what happens next. And I'm tired of you blaming everything you do simply on me. I may have played a part - I am the embodiment of desire after all. But what you do with those feelings is on you, brother. Whatever your relationship with Life is, it cannot go on any further. This mutual longing ends after this conversation, Death is not the only one tired of this. And I am putting most of the blame on you."

Morpheus lets out a sarcastic chuckle matching his expression.

"Why?"

"You knew of her feelings. She didn't know about yours. She didn't tell you of her feelings out of insecurity. You didn't tell her that you knew of it or that it was returned out of some sick sense of focusing simply on duties. A pathetic excuse that lead to a torture almost worse than death. Not knowing if what you feel would be returned or would change anything. All this coming from the being who began having feelings for Life the moment he discovered that she had survived the latest mass extinction."

"And what is my fault then?" You quickly ask sensing that Morpheus may do something that he may regret later on.

"Simple, you've survived wars, assassinations, affairs, espionage missions, sabotages, and many kinds of betrayals. And yet despite that courage, you didn't have enough to risk it all and simply tell him your feelings. Had you done so then maybe many things could have been different. I'm not saying you've never loved anyone else. But for some reason Dream is the exception to that."

You forget how you awakened from that conversation. If there was one beneficial thing that came out of it it was that it didn't allow you to forget your dream once you've awakened. You and Morpheus agreed to discuss what you've learnt in the waking world on the weekend when you were free. You both needed sometime to process and discussing it while the revelations made by Desire may only lead to more discord than actual communication.

Thankfully, for that weekend you had your apartment to yourself for whatever might happen. You take a breath before using your powers in your immortal aspect to take his sigil out of what you now call your sub-space after watching many sailor moon episodes and reading a lot of sailor moon manga.

"Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, I stand in my living space as I hold your sigil. If you are free I'm ready to talk of what we've both learned from Desire."

"Wait for me, I'm coming through. Just keep holding my sigil." You hear his voice from the sigil and before you know it you hear his movements from behind you. You turn towards him and on his hand you see a familiar glowing rose (the glow coming from inside the stem and is spread all over after exiting the rose's stamen and pistil) with two branches. One branch had no thorns while the other had plenty of them, both of them at the same height and their leaves positioned diametrically opposed to each other.

"You were going to call me?"

"We did agree to meet on this day, I didn't know who would call who."

You two take a seat once again across each other. Both of you were tense, possibly nervousness of what is to come and how this may force both of you to change your relationship. A part of you wished that it would have remained the way it was before Desire had interfered. But you also knew that Desire was right in saying that it was a test that was needed and that this longing which you've only learned was actually mutual, needed to stop. The consequences for longing too much for two beings such as yourself and Morpheus could be more disasterous if nothing was done about it.

You're the one who begins.

"How long have you known?" He straightens his back and moves himself forward towards you.

"When you first arrived in what would now be called Malaysia, during the early days of humanity."

"Just after you've condemned Nada to Hell?"

"Yes, but back when I came to that knowledge I wasn't in the appropriate mindset to study it further. And when I began to really notice that it never went away, you had already moved on with one or two lovers. Who was I to distrupt your life like that. And so I too moved on."

"But from what I understand there were times when neither of us had lovers or commitments. Why didn't you tell me then?"

"I could ask the same of you. For all this time I had thought your feelings for me was something you thought shameful and wished you didn't have. Whenever you fell in love, you almost always didn't mind sharing your feelings to their recipient. But whenever I felt you speak of your romantic feelings towards me, it was almost always in a hushed conspiratorial way. Almost as if you had a shameful secret that you wish you could be free of. At first I thought it was because I was not mortal, but then neither were some of your lovers. You've fathered children with Goddesses, had three daughters with the Grim reaper, a subordinate of my sister, among others. With all that considered, I had thought that you thought negatively of how you feel for me for you have done nothing acting on those feelings."

You take a deep breath, taking a moment to collect your thoughts before you finally let out your own confession.

"I don't remember when it became something more. Looking back now you were probably right in not doing anything at first."

"Why?"

"Like with many of my romances, it started with infatuation and so I thought nothing of it. I didn't think it was worth telling you since you've probably encountered your fair share of being infatuated upon, I didn't see how this is supposed to be different from all the others. Infatuation could simply fade away once the façade of perfection or unhealthy obsession has been broken."

"So you did nothing hoping that it would fade away?"

"Yes, plenty of times a crush is just a crush nothing more nothing less. I always thought it was similar to what Petrarch or Dante Alighieri had to their muses that they barely knew anything about. The people and beings around me had often thought that it was simply devotion to you or whichever being they thought I was committed to. It's what happened to majority of the people I find myself attracted to. Over time it's simply an acknowledgement of what attracted me to them, then reflecting what I wanted in a relationship. It didn't occur to me that these feelings would only deepen and would simply be somewhere in the background. Not always interfering with how I lived but nevertheless there."

"But what we had was different from Petrarch or Dante. Aside from Death and Lucienne, I always considered the two of us to be close. When you had an issue with me, you have always managed to make me receptive to such criticism without me feeling threatened."

"Which is why I thought it would simply fade away. I am more than aware of some of your flaws, what you seek to do, and the burdens you have. When I realized that it had become deeper than what I had first thought, I still hesitated to tell you because of how focused you were on your duties as the King of Dreams and the prince of stories. I never forgot how you played a big part in saving me before the previous Universe was destroyed."

"That left me more cautious of vortices and how to deal with them. It was my mistake that almost forcibly killed you. And if the Universe couldn't be saved, then the least I could do was to keep your essence in the Dreaming before this Universe had the right balance of allowing you to live and thrive once again."

"Even when I didn't have consciousness back then? When I was back to my prokaryote and simplified eukaryote forms of bacteria?"

"My birth was triggered from your subconscious thoughts... the very first set of subconscious thoughts in existence. The very first of many. Deep down I have always known that even if you would have forms that didn't have consciousness, somehow in some way you would somehow develop a form that regained it." In your periphery you could see that the sun has now reached its peak and it was time to close the windows. Being in a tropical country, one of the biggest environmental threats was getting sunburnt. You were too lazy to put on sunblock and any more heat would make your cotton long sleeves and loose lounge pants more burdensome than lazy relief.

"Anyway, going back to why I didn't do anything about them. I knew better than to further burden you with something that wasn't yours to deal with in the first place. It was my feelings towards you the recipient. Therefore it is only I who should shoulder the burden of having to deal with them. I thought I was doing you a favor since nothing has really changed except perhaps for my perspective. You were closed off because within you, you contain all thoughts and all emotions of all beings. I understood why you did it because I did the same thing with my own memories. And so I did nothing but feel and silently deal with them hoping that doing so wouldn't cause you more pain and burdens than what you were already dealing with."

"Your feelings would not have caused me more pain."

"Can you really say that? It's easy to say that now with the benefit of hindsight. But in the moment I highly doubt you would have felt that."

"And do you have any idea about my own agony? The anxiety of similar sentiments ignored and possibly considered irrelevant?"

"Is that what you've felt? Was what Desire said true that you've started feeling that way towards me ever since the last mass extinction in this earth?" It was his turn to pause. He looks down before meeting your eyes again.

"Yes, it was when I discovered you have managed to survive it despite it almost entirely killing all life on earth that I realized that I wanted you as my partner." Your eyes widen at this revelation.

"Bu-but I didn't have a human form back then." At this he leant closer towards you from across yourself, his form telling you that it was his turn to confess.

"It was your spirit, your mind, your persistence in managing not only to survive but thrive despite almost entirely dying completely...it was my appreciation of those things about you, and even your own paradoxical nature of needing an environment to be well-balanced for you to even exist that made me realize that I want you."

"Is that why Death began inquiring about my consciousness and spirit way back then?"

"Possibly, there were many times when I was tempted to save you again from the mass extinctions that came before. But Death did not allow me to do so. She always told me that I should have more faith in your abilities. Initially I admit I was skeptical because among all the celestial bodies in this galaxy, it was only earth that allowed for the conditions for you to actually live. And with everything needing to be in balance, I saw it as fragile and awaited the days when you would once again regain your consciousness. The moment you did...the moment you were able to dream again, even though you were not always aware of it...it was then that I did everything that I could to ensure that you would thrive. Only to find myself surprised again and again of how you would survive and thrive without my help after every mass extinction. I found myself fearing for you as each one happened. When you emerged from the last one, I could not resist denying my feelings toward you any longer."

"Then why didn't you do anything?"

"My feelings were not reciprocated. In the span of your existence on earth, my discovery that there may be a chance that you may have also felt what I have been feeling towards you was only recent. Like you I have also fallen for others. But unlike you they somehow almost always end in some sort of disaster."

"I've had disasterous relationships too."

"You have the benefit of being released from them because of the human lifespan. I do not have such privilege."

"I thought those were just a consequence of not falling in love with a mortal. Which is why I was surprised to learn that you and Calliope separated and ended your marriage."

"As you can see this also affects my lovers who are immortal." You take this chance to stand up, stretch and head to the kitchen to prepare for lunch. Your stomach begins growling and unlike Morpheus you still needed to eat. You hear him from behind following you.

"Then was Desire right in also saying that there are plenty of things you've been doing to try to woo me or understand me? Such as the infamous Hob Gabling contract?" There was a pause as you begin taking out ingredients from you refrigerator.

"Yes, I will admit now that it was a mistake. You were right in saying that if I wanted to understand humanity...that if I wanted to understand what you see in it, I should first consult you before anyone else."

"That was your attempt to woo me?"

"No, Desire was referring to my recent involvement with you." You feel your heart skip a beat. Suddenly Emira's observations didn't seem so outlandish after all. It turns out you weren't going crazy or reading too much into his actions as simply wanting to restore the friendship you two have lost after your argument over the Hob Gabling contract.

"You were courting my children so that they would put in a good word for you?" You turn to look at his gaze with an eyebrow raised.

"Only initially."

"And you expect me to believe that?"

"Believe what you want to believe, but even you must sense that I do genuinely care for them."

"So let's say I choose not to have you as my partner, can you say that you would still help them if they call on you?" He nods.

"They wouldn't even need to call me just for me to help them." You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding.

"Well at least that is settled."

"Life." He moves closer to you. Your bodies nearly touching with only enough space that allowed either of you to still move away.

"Please...I apologize for my past mistakes, for not telling you that I have known about your feelings, for all of it. Caring for Emira, Jared, and Ana all came from how I care for you. I still want you to guide me to become better. I still want to be the few whom you can go to and say almost anything without judgment."

"Morpheus." You take a breath and briefly close your eyes. Even now you can't find it in yourself to stay angry at him for long. Desire was right in saying you also played a part to where you both were currently.

"You say almost?"

"I know better than to usurp Death's position as your first confidant." That made you smile just a little bit.

"I'm sorry for not being open about my feelings. But I'm not sorry for what has already happened. What's done is done, and it seems we have forced Desire's ire."

"That is something that I possess long before."

"My point is that perhaps Desire is right in saying that prolonged longing will only result into greater torment. In my defense I didn't know and I wasn't sure if my feelings would have and were ever returned."

"...And now that our feelings are out in the open...how do you want to proceed?"

"Morpheus." You take a bottle of chocolate flavored soymilk from the fridge. It will do for now to sate your hunger. You'll need to wait to continue your lunch cooking after this conversation is finished. You were not going to involve semi-concentration around tools that could possibly slice your fingers. After opening the bottle with the bottle opener, you take a sit at the dining table and gesture for Morpheus to do the same. He once again sits across you.

"I need time to consider what to do. I'm not even sure if I'm even emotionally or mentally available for a romantic relationship right now. And there are plenty of things that needs to be discussed before that even happens." He now bears a fallen expression at your response, but from what his body is telling you, he also understands where you are coming from despite what he wants to happen.

"Please Morpheus, can we go back to what we were before Desire interfered? While I'm reflecting on how to proceed."

"Of course. And let me assure you that no matter what you decide, I will care for you. I know my previous actions suggest otherwise but that is the truth."

And that ended the first part of your conversation. You spend the week contemplating if it was even worth it after all this time.

"All I've ever known was to love from afar that it almost feels like a hidden trap and something is bound to go wrong." You say as you have a video chat with Tala, Lucy, and Nadia on Friday evening. Tala and Nadia had also reported that they should be finished with the counter spell that would remove the coma from Ana's parents by Sunday and hopefully by that evening, the magical community's cover enforcements - similar to the specialists from Vampire Academy - would arrive that evening and would begin to do their work to set up and make paper trails on why her parents were in a coma and whatever story they've decided on to explain Ana's PTSD to the non-magical public.

"Have you already gone through the practical things in your head?" Lucy asks as she begins the first of many steps of her nightly korean skincare routine.

"Yes, many times. And yet a part of me wants to at least try despite it all."

"Then what's stopping you? If despite the practical issues your heart still desires it then go for it."

"Thanks Tala, but it almost seems too good to be true. How will I know that he doesn't one day get tired of me. Or that one day we both feel like it's better to stop and part ways?"

"Then that day simply comes." Nadia responds as she sips her homemade multicolored cocktail from a large transparent mason jar.

"You're insecure about what could or could not happen. You didn't bring this up asking for advice on your possible relationship with Morpheus, but rather of your own insecurities."

"Yeah Dr. Nadia has a point. You've been in several relationships before, but you're scared of what might happen because both of you are essentially immortal and the consequences may spell disaster for not just both of you but for the whole universe." Lucy says before briefly leaving to wash her face from the cold cream makeup remover.

"Which while reasonable also seems to sound like an excuse of even starting a relationship in the first place. Not to force you it's still your life and your decision but it would really suck if after all this initially unrequited longing you would turn down the chance to make it a reality."

"I think what the three of us is saying, you won't know until you actually try. Give him all the preliminaries, set the boundaries for your safety and for the rest of the universe, and other things that need to be discussed, then give it a try. If it fades back into friendship then it'll go back into friendship. If it becomes something more serious then we'll all anticipate your wedding. But you can't know that unless you take the risk." Nadia says as she takes a bigger gulp of her cocktail.

"Besides you've had relationships with deities and other immortal and anthropomorphic figures before. If you're really concerned about him getting tired of you eventually just give him the condition that your relationship slash marriage is only valid for this lifetime. If he wants to continue being your partner then he needs to romance you and marry you again in your next one. That way if either of you has moved on by then, no extra baggage or having to wait around."

"In my off the record semi-professional opinion I recommend you make that as one of your non-negotiables since inherent in your functions is the unpredictability of your environment in each lifetime."

You find yourself smiling and some of the weight lifted from your shoulders.

"Thank you girls."

"Oh and in my very medical opinion." Lucy says as she returns and dabs her face with a small cotton towel.

"From a practicality standpoint you may want to discuss how reproduction could work."

"LUCY!"

"No, actually she has a point."

"Aren't you asexual Nadia?"

"Tala I could still clinically view sexual stuff. As long as I don't have to see or to be involved in it I'm generally okay with it."

"Going back to my medical recommendation. I don't know if him being the King of Dreams would mean if you two could conceive in the dreaming or if he has control of that within his realm. I don't even know if you could conceive only there, here, or whatever. My point is to keep a condom nearby at all times."

"Can't you just recommend me one of your fellow Gynecologists that could give me an IUD?"

"And how are you going to pay for that without your parents knowing? And you can't use your periods as an excuse to them because your periods are now on a regular schedule."

"Damn, good point."

After sleeping on it you decide to call Morpheus the following day. Exactly one week from your last conversation.

"I've decided I want to try." You could see the delight slowly and subtly creep into his face.

"But there are several things that we need to discuss first before you officially begin courting me. You may want to sit down this could take awhile. Would you mind if I ate breakfast while we discuss?"

"Not at all, go on." You serve yourself your first batch of scrambled eggs while you wait for your baguette to be toasted in your mini oven and for your butter to slowly transition from fridge temperature to room temperature and make it easier to place on the baguette. You intentionally called him at this time since you've anticipated that this would be a very long discussion and it may as well take place while you ate breakfast food, your favorite types of food such as waffles, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and the like.

"First no matter what happens I would like for the two of us to still be friends no matter what. I don't know if or how long the romance between us will last but no matter what happens I want to hopefully still call upon you as dear friend."

"You and I have the same wishes then."

"I feel like I need to point this out since sometimes you can get lost in thought or forget things every now and then." You take a moment to pour orange juice from the carafe into your glass.

"Second, if we do have a romantic relationship, however long it lasts it is only valid for this lifetime of mine." He gives you a pointed look.

"Are you serious?"

"I am, I don't know if and when we'll be tired of each other for the rest of existence. And as Desire has pointed out the consequences of a very aggravating breakup between the two of us could have massive consequences for everyone else. This is a safety measure."

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"Morpheus this is simply giving you the option to exit without any baggage, and for it to be as amicable and painless as possible. We can try being partners in this lifetime and if you still want to continue being partners then romance and marry me again in the next. If you don't, then you become a free again to pursuit whomever you want with no strings attached to me." He takes a breath before you see that he concedes.

"If it makes you feel any better, this is the condition I've always told my past immortal lovers before I allowed them to have a relationship with me. It keeps things from getting messy from one lifetime to the next."

"Is that why the Grim Reaper no longer visits you."

"Possibly, it's also possible that our three daughters are still in the after life and they resemble my form back then too much that he can't help but think of them. Which leads me to my next point about my polyamorous nature."

"I am listening."

"I feel like I need to thoroughly discuss this with you since from what I know of your romantic history you've been exclusively monogamous. And yes this includes your affair with Titania, from what I have heard she was the reason you made that deal with Shakespeare."

"It wasn't the only reason."

"My point is that based on what I know of, you're not one for sharing partners with others."

"I've been cheated on by -"

"And that's not what I mean by polyamory. If there's no consent from all parties involved then that's simply cheating." The mini-oven's bell rings signaling that your baguette is now toasted. A well needed pause from correcting his misconceptions on what polyamorous relationships actually are.

"Also before you bring it up, I highly doubt what the romantics practiced was truly polyamory but more of simply sleeping with whomever they wanted. I have a feeling that there was little to no consent from the cheated party of the free love system they had."

"I see."

"I can't change the fact that there may be some people or beings that I will feel attracted to in the waking world. And I also couldn't control whomever you feel attracted to, so I wouldn't. I cannot predict the future but I do want to establish that if anything should become serious and we are still together, then before it goes further we need each other's consent."

"And if I don't give my consent what happens then?"

"Then depending on the situation I either stop pursuing the other party or breakup with you first before pursuing the other party. Same thing if the situation is reversed."

"I see." He pauses.

"Why do we need to discuss this?"

"Aside from the fact that I am polyamorous by nature, it's also somewhat practical. You don't have a consistent presence in the waking world and a legal marriage requires legal personality to engage in. As powerful as you are I'm not sure your powers could suddenly make you possess legal documents suddenly out of nowhere. At least that's what I know of."

"I may think of a few ways." You give him a pointed look before continuing on.

"Speaking of my nature, do you still want me as your guide?"

"Yes, my position hasn't changed on that one."

"Just checking. You seem overwhelmed from all of the things I have demanded on so far."

"It is surprising, yes. But having heard why you needed them...well I may not thoroughly understand them yet but I could catch a glimpse of why you have them as conditions."

Much of the discussion after that was on practical matters that was just a blur on your mind. Things that plenty of times you had to endure but none of the other Endless have to think about since they've typically observed from afar or at the very least from their respective domains.

Then it was his turn to discuss things that he wanted.

"I hope this won't scare you away."

"What is it?"

"I am courting you with the hope that one day you would be my spouse."

"And your consort?"

"Only if you are comfortable with it yes, our domains influence the other's to a higher degree. But that is not what matters to me. I want to marry you, but I will not force you if the idea of marriage is unsuited for your liking."

"Well marriages have changed now from the past centuries. I wouldn't mind being married to you. But the question is can we get there?" He looks at you with tenderness in his face.

"I hope so."

You then agreed to have your first official date next Saturday.

"In dreams or in the waking world?"

"In dreams, for practical reasons." You tell Emira over the phone as you heat up a batch of pre-made garlic bread.

"And you allowed that?"

"I'm giving him his home court advantage of doing his best to woo me. I already told him it should be something intimate but not chokingly so. Just enough to make my introverted self comfortable enough to not care about anything else but him."

"Isn't that what you already do?"

"Not really actually. I barely remember any of my non-intentional dreams."

"Non-intentional?"

"I mean when I didn't deliberately went to the Dreaming to do something else like going into it to confront Desire with Morpheus."

"Oh I see. You two have known each other for awhile so I have a feeling that it's going to be at least decent."

"I'm hoping it doesn't become awkward either."

"If it ever does, there's always the next one to improve on. At least you're both on the same page about wanting to have a long term. That was always the struggle on my first dates and they would always say 'Oh let's just keep it casual and see where this takes us.'"

"Tell me Emira, do you think I was too demanding of him discussing my conditions before actually starting?"

"Not really. I wish I had the benefit of doing that first with my boyfriend but I think you were just establishing your boundaries. You know him better than I, but no considering what you've told me and how dramatic he can sometimes be, you did good mom."

"Thank you dear. Any advice you'd like to give me before I go into the dreaming tonight?"

"I don't know. I've never dated anyone who was my friend first before the first date."

"Weren't you classmates with your current boyfriend first?"

"Yeah but he was just that, a classmate. An acquaintance at most before he asked me out. So maybe um when in doubt just treat it as hanging out with a friend? Since the two of you want to be friends no matter what. Sorry that's the best I could do since all my other advice is about dating in the waking world and not in the dreaming."

"Hahaha don't worry Em, still that's good to keep in mind."

"Oh by the way mom, what do you think of the King Raven plushie for Ana?" She sends through the messenger chat a screenshot of the squishables King Raven plush. Since Ana has officially returned to her still coma recovering parents who are still being taken cared of by the cover enforcement, she's been chatting with everyone of you. Or rather she's talking with everyone she didn't have a mental bond with. And since she can't rely on messenger alone, you all decide to send her a care package containing various items that acts as your "sigils" in case she has no internet and she needs someone to talk to. These things have to also be regular items so it cannot compromise the magical community.

"Is there a smaller version of that? Something cheaper? As cute as it is I don't want you spending too much money."

"Yup, there's a mini version that's about 10 inches."

"That's the smaller one?"

"It's the cheaper one."

"Well okay, if you're sure you want that as a sigil item for your sister."

"I'm sure, is the Plague nurse your sigil item?"

"No, I picked that simply because it's cute. My sigil item is this." You take a moment to picture the jade pendant hanging around your neck.

"A Hello Kitty shaped jade pendant?"

"She loves Hello Kitty and this just so happened to be available when I was online window shopping."

"Is that even real jade?"

"Probably not, I picked it because of the Hello Kitty form and she could wear it always. That way she'll somehow have some form of my protection."

"Okay, good point."

You check the time and it was about 1:47 pm.

"Do you think it's too late to change plans a bit?"

"Please tell me you're not planning on cancelling your date. How can you backout of a dream?"

"No don't worry I'm not planning on backing out. I just feel like things might be a little less awkward if maybe it started with a dinner in the waking world."

"OOH You're planning on taking him out?"

"Not really. Just maybe a dinner here before we move into the bedroom-Not like that."

"Not like what?" You could hear the grin in her voice.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, it's for going into the dreaming not for sex."

"I mean, let's not rule it out."

"Emira."

"Kidding, just kidding. Would you like me to come over and help?"

"That depends are you finished with your case digests?"

"...Okay tell me how it went. Bye mom."

And with that you make your preparations.

Author's Note: I've decided to end it here because it felt right and Part 8 officially begins the start of their courtship.

1.) This is my Hello Kitty pendant that is referenced (the pendant is actually very small so I just tend to hide it under my clothes):

Zoomed out

Zoomed in 1

Zoomed in 2

2.) This is the (mini) Plague Nurse plushie - and yes I only got her because she's cute.

3.) This is Mini King Raven squishable plushie - I don't actually have this one (I'm saving to get the Plague doctor and the grim reaper) but this plushie reminds me so much of Matthew, you'll see why Emira chose this to be her "sigil" (or for the Supergiant Hades fans out there, the "Keepsake"/"Companion") in the next parts.

4.) Just to clarify, all of Life's children with immortal partners are demigods or demigodlike (the point is they can still die) since Life is the mortal half and is what makes them a part of life and death. Currently they are all in their respective afterlives.

5.) I asked my friend whose a fan of the Sandman graphic novels about why Desire and Dream are so hostile and she explained it to me and also gave me some insight into why Desire is the way they are. Since Part 1 already establishes that while Life doesn't entirely trust Desire, she's at the very least civil with them and a little bit more empathetic to them than Dream is. Since Desire is shown in canon to be an antagonist already I've decided to have Desire genuinely care about Life and to have them be the one to force them to confront their mutual longing for each other.

6.) I've also looked into a little bit of Dream's romantic history based from general tumblr posts and how at least according to graphic novel Marvin, Dream has a tendency to want to be the brooding figure and has a way of self-sabotaging relationships. With this in mind, I hope its understandable why Desire did what they had to do. It was one thing for it to happen to mortal women, goddesses and other worldly beings to suffer the consequences of Dream's overreactions, but it's another if Dream will subject Life to the only way he knows how to respond to anything he doesn't like about being in a relationship.

Once again thank you so much for reading :)

#Beautiful Anomaly #Dream of the Endless #The Sandman netflix #The sandman #Morpheus #morpheus x fem!reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #Morpheus x y/n #Dream x reader #dream x fem!reader #dream x y/n #dream x you #Life incarnate #Dream x Life #desire of the endless #Desire

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culttvblog · 1 month

Text

The Guardians: Part 9 - I Want You To Understand Me

Another slight change of pace back to straightforward political intrigue in this one.

This is not to say there is no emotional stressing in the form of discussion of the PM's son's rather bruising love affair. It has taken me a while to think why i so much dislike the emotional angst of this show. I just think that probably in the situation described there would be less emotional stressing about sex, affairs and so on. In comparison to the bigger political things going on it comes across as out of context.

Quarmby have developed a habit of sending reel to reel tapes containing demands through the post. Therefore one of the subjects of the episode is again information and disinformation, because the government are completely wrong-footed and unable even to identify what Quarmby is. The government have delightfully taken in every citizen actually called Quarmby over the age of twelve for questioning. They've been made a fool of.

Quarmby have also taken a significant hostage and they only have one demand: they want the return of the Queen to England. Now if you're watching this in any number of far away countries that don't have constitutional monarchies, this may sound strange, but don't forget that we once tried being a republic and it was terrible. As far as plot is concerned it becomes clear that this return of the monarch is something that the PM could simply do by calling an election. For the viewer this plot device therefore transforms the PM from the previous appearance of manipulated puppet and makes it plain that actually he is responsible for the regime which rules the country and for the collapse of democracy. This is one of the things I like best about this show so far, because it's successfully given the viewer (at least me) the wrong impression of the Prime Minister by making him a sympathetic character when actually he could just stop this at any point.

The significant hostage that Quarmby have taken also carries on the theme of disinformation because the hostage is the official state executioner. From previous episodes we know that executions in 1980s England are actually done by a medic by lethal injection and not at the time announced. The executioner is therefore actually an actor who plays the role for the public and has never executed anyone in his life. Quarmby have therefore taken on an innocent hostage who is part of the government's own disinformation. Phew.

I don't know whether the viewer was intended to make the connection but the house where the executioner is held hostage is in Warwickshire, and the significance could be that the Civil War (between supporters of king and parliament) really kicked off in Warwickshire with the Battle of Edgehill. He is therefore being held in the place where history reflects the show's struggle between the government who have exiled the Queen and Quarmby, who want the monarch back.

My only criticism is that the thread where the PM's son is stressing about his bruising love affair was unnecessary and could well have been omitted completely.

Otherwise this is an excellent episode of this show, with real intrigue, developing the plot of the series.

This blog is mirrored at

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Archives from 2013 to September 2023 may be found at culttvblog.blogspot.com and there is an index to the tags used on the Tumblr version at https://www.tumblr.com/culttvblog/729194158177370112/this-blog

#70s tv #the guardians

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the-letter-horror-lover · 2 years

Text

What could have happened

Its_natalie_here123

Summary:

This is basically if died at any point past book of circus, while he was still a kid. Not including book of Atlantic as I have not seen that yet

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

*READ THIS IMPORTANT* I'm not going to be doing any of the starting parts as that will make this even more cringe then it already is. It's going to start off where everyone is in the "Judgement room" and a random angel is going to be reading out the events of his life. It's not going to be word for word, just like how you would explain that or something else. A short brief description of what happened.

"We are gathered here today to see tp the Final Judgement of Ciel Phantomhive. To do this, we will need to be looking through his memories with someone of the people who have effected him the most in his life, of whom are already deceased. We will be bringing his parents, some of the friends he made-" Before the angle could go on, he was cut off by your favorite reaper.

"Yes, yes, we know now move on. You're getting awfully boring." The Undertaker interjected.

The angel glared for a quick second before announcing, "Fine, BRING IN THE GUESTS!"

Basically the people who were tagged were brought in. (They were already informed of the situation)

Everyone who was brought in was sitting at the humongous table in a tense silence. Eventually, someone brought Ciel in.

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I NEED TO TELL YOU! DON"T F**KING TOUCH ME!"

The people at the table were either shocked done to their core, or snickering at him.

The other angels were trying to get him to calm down but it clearly wasn't working. Ciel, finally have enough starting yelling, "Sabastian! Come here right now and get these fools off of me at once!"

"Yes, Young master."

Time skip to after Ciel calmed down and things were explained to him.

"I have to stay in here with that THING while we read my memories." Ciel complained in a disgusted tone while pointing at Kelvin.

At that Victor, Ciel's father, got defensive. "What's wrong with him. When we met he was pleasant to have around as he is now."

Ciel just stared for a moment then snorted. "Suuuuuuurrrrreeeee. What ever you say. Wait why is he even IN Heaven. You should have see his cinematic record by now."

"U-Uhm, MOVING ON!"

Ciel and a few others suspiciously glanced at him but didn't say anything.

"Whatever let's start."

"What a wonderful Idea."

Forgiveness

TwilightKnight17

Summary:

Parties are an excellent distraction, but being a reaper means you can never be completely content.

Tipsy reapers discuss their (assumed) reward.

Notes:

Originally posted to my tumblr a while back.

Sascha and Rudgar's characterization is based on how an RP partner of mine plays the two of them, including Sascha being referred to as "they".

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Reapers had to take their opportunities to be social where they could get them. The job was demanding, and while that was to be expected considering the circumstances that it was given to them under, it still wore on them all. There wasn't time for vacation, either, which mean that there were even fewer opportunities to see friends in other branches.

Every year, there was a huge conference that brought together representatives of all the different Shinigami Dispatch Association branches. While the Board hoped it would be a dignified affair, and for the most part it was, it inevitably ended up dissolving into a raucous party as reapers who didn't even necessarily speak the same language ended up joined in the common language of drinking too much and passing out all over the hosting dispatch.

This year, London was hosting, and Eric and Grell along with Ronald and many other enthusiastic Juniors had made sure that that there was plenty of liquor in the office. After all of the official meetings and socializing had finished, bottles had been cracked open and reapers, especially Collections reapers, proceeded to get completely smashed.

It was several hours later when Eric found himself on a couch in one of the break rooms, with Alan, who had never been one to hold his liquor well, asleep half in his lap and half in Grell's. Ronald had been dragged off by a few of the Archives girls an hour ago, and Will had apparently gone home based on what Grell had said. Two of their friends from the German dispatch, Sascha and Rudgar, were piled on the other couch along with a passed-out Felice, one of Eric's friends from the Italian dispatch. They'd all had at least as much alcohol as they would on a standard night out at a bar, so all of them were tipsy. That was probably what prompted Eric to comment absently, "Has anyone actually seen somebody get outta here?"

Rudgar stirred, blinking dark green-gold eyes at Eric. "Vhat do you mean?" he asked, as Grell made a sleepy noise of interest. Sascha was distracted playing with the end of Rudgar's tie, but tilted their head to indicate they were still listening.

"This," Eric said vaguely, waving his hand at everything and nothing. "Dispatch. Work. Bein' a reaper. We're supposed t'be workin' towards forgiveness, righ'? But has anyone actually got it?"

All of the reapers listening glanced at each other uncomfortably. It wasn't really a topic most of them chose to talk about, considering the unpleasant memories it could summon up. After a long moment of silence, Rudgar said gruffly, "I've heard of people being forgiven, but I've never known any of 'dem personally. 'Dey are usually from ano'der branch."

"That's what I've heard, too," Grell drawled. "I've never heard of anyone who actually knew someone personally who was forgiven." He leaned on Eric's shoulder, head lolling. "But I don't caaaare~ I like this~! I get to paint as many people red as I'm assigned~"

"I do, too!" Sascha chimed in, not seeing the way their partner cringed a bit as they spoke. "It's so interesting getting to watch every'ding and observe humans. I like being a reaper."

Eric frowned, glancing down at Alan. "It's no' really abou' whether we like it or no', though. It's s'posed t'be a punishment, an' they promised us an' endin' when we'd earned it." He carded his fingers absently through his partner's hair as he spoke. "But if no one ever earns it... Is th' whole system jus' broken? Are we gonna be stuck like this f'rever?"

"Nein!" Rudgar snarled, almost lurching to his feet save for Sascha grabbing his arm to keep him down. "Don't talk like 'dat! Of course ve're not going to be stuck like 'dis! Ve can't be." He knew he wasn't the only one for whom the thought of forgiveness was the only thing that kept them going some days. Reapers cracked every once in a while, fleeing the Dispatch and becoming fugitives or turning their scythes on themselves in desperation. Even a reaper as great as Legendary Death hadn't been immune. So the idea that forgiveness was an impossible goal was something that couldn't be entertained. Ever.

Sascha clung to their partner, still slightly dazed from the alcohol but aware enough to know Rudgar needed to calm down. "Nein, Rudgar, es ist in Ordnung. Wir sind in Ordnung. Wir werden eines Tages vergeben..." they mumbled, losing their grasp of English in their buzzed haze. Rudgar looked down at them, sighing, but fell quiet.

"I'm sorry. I just get a bit...touchy about 'dings relating to forgiveness."

"No, no, I get it," Eric assured. "I get it..." He eyed the narrow, branching scar around Alan's wrist, just visible where his sleeve had ridden up as he slept. If there was no forgiveness waiting, he wouldn't be able to handle eternity without Alan. He knew that.

Grell stretched, almost dumping Alan's legs off the couch, and nudged Eric. "Forgiveness or not, darling, worrying about it won't get us anywhere. Either it will come or it won't."

"Easy for you t'say, Red. Ya don' care whether we get it 'r not."

"I'm telling you to relax, Eric. There's nothing we can do but do our jobs." And for a moment, there was a flicker of seriousness in Grell's expression. "Don't dwell on it. That's how reapers go mad." Then it was gone, and Grell was leaning over to try to see the table on the other side of the room. "I wonder if there's any bourbon left..."

Normally Eric would be all over more bourbon, but he just nodded, waving Grell off to find the liquor and stroking Alan's hair. Rudgar sank back into the couch, sipping absently on a beer that he still had left and trying to manage Sascha, who had crawled into his lap sleepily and was trying to get comfortable. They locked eyes for a second, understanding in their expressions, and then settled back to their own thoughts. Grell was right, after all. There really wasn't anything they could do.

Just carry on...and hope that one day it all worked out.

Notes:

Sascha: "No, Rudgar, it's all right, we're all right, we'll be forgiven one day..." Courtesy of GoogleTranslate. X'''D

Series this work belongs to:

← Previous Work Part 3 of Reaper Oneshots Next Work →

Tanaka's Secret

rosabelladarling

Summary:

Ciel searches for the missing Tanaka and finds a secret of Tanaka while going through his stuff. Work by gothic carousel of BBNet.

Notes:

This fanfiction was written by the wonderful gothic carousel at BlackButler.net. If you enjoy this piece and would like to learn more about the reasons that Sebastian and Tanaka should be together, please join us in the "The Tanaka X Sebastian FC ("Ho Ho Ho" means "I love you")" fanclub. We look forward to praising this ship with you.

Work Text:

The rain poured on relentlessly in Victorian England, as Ciel finished his paperwork. It had taken him a while to finish his work because he kept getting distracted by Bard yelling in the kitchen about how much it rained in England. Now that his paperwork was done, Ciel was hungry. He had already eaten dinner and dessert, but now he was craving something warm and sweet to eat in this cold rainy day.

"I'm in the mood for some freshly made chocolate chip cookies with warm honeyed milk", though Ciel. He straightened up and yelled, "SEBASTIAN!!". Nothing happened. Ciel waited a few more minutes and called his butler's name again. Once again nothing happened. Ciel proceeded to do this twenty times, and each time there were no results. "Where the hell is Sebastian!?", yelled Ciel as he got up from his chair.

"Um, master Ciel, are you alright?", said Mey-Rin as she and Bard and Finny entered Ciel's office. The three of them had worried looks on their faces. "Master Ciel, you called Sebastian's name many times...more than usual and louder than usual", said Bard. Ciel dismissed Bard's claim and asked, "Have any of you seen Sebastian?"

"Not since Dinner sir!", all three of his servants replied. "Do you want us to search for him master Ciel?", asked Finny. "No, I will go do it", answered Ciel. He motioned for them to leave and said, "Mey-Rin go help Bard clean the kitchen and Finny, go trim the bushes in the garden".

"Um, its raining outside master Ciel", said Finny. "Oh, right. Well go help the other two in cleaning the kitchen then", said Ciel as the servants nodded and started to leave. Ciel realized something was missing and asked,"Hey, where are Tanaka and Snake?". Bard scratched his head and said, "The cold weather has made Snake a bit sick so he is taking a quick nap for now and I don't recall seeing Tanaka at all today". "Me neither", said the other two servants. Now Ciel was confused. Before he gathered his thoughts, he allowed the servants to leave. For now, Ciel set Sebastian's whereabouts to the side. It was Tanaka that he was worried about. Tanaka was seen everyday by at least one servant. Everyday someone at least knew his whereabouts. It was strange for someone as calm and relaxed as Tanaka to just disappear, even if it was for a few hours.

Ciel left his office and headed to Tanaka's bedroom. "Maybe the cold and rainy weather has made Tanaka sick", he though. "Nah, Tanaka is incredibly healthy for his age and he drinks lots of good tea, so it must be something else."

Ciel finally reached Tanaka's door and turned the doorknob when he realized that the door was locked. Now Ciel became more worried. A master swordsman like Tanaka never locked his door. Ciel recalled all those faint memories of him playing with Tanaka as little toddler. Tanaka would always let Ciel go to his room to play and that is why he always let the door opened. Ciel would play hide and seek with his mother and Lizzy, and he always chose his room to hide in. His mother could never find him in hide and seek, but Lizzy always did. Since the young Ciel loved hiding there, Tanaka never locked the door.

Ciel was so confused, "Since when did Tanaka lock his door?", he asked himself. "Did he start doing this after...the fire?", he though. Ciel got closer to the door and pressed his ear against it. He heard nothing. Now his confusion turned into curiosity. He wanted to go in the room so badly now, he didn't know why, he just wanted to go in there. Ciel wanted to feel nostalgic about his more innocent younger years and this room was a way to achieve that nostalgia.

Tanaka had a small room with only two ways inside. The first way was the locked door and the second way was a small window. This meant that Ciel's only other option inside was to go outside through the rain and to the window. He slipped outside through another window near Tanaka's room as he did not want the other servants notice him leaving. As Ciel stepped outside, he was met with harsh cold rain. There was no doubt that he was going to get sick after this. Ciel finally reached Tanaka's window and opened it after a lot of effort.

Ciel quickly stepped inside and closed the window. He was shivering pretty badly and grabbed a small blanket to warp himself around with. He stood for moment to examine the room. It was the same as always, but there seemed something different about it. He walked around this simple room until his shoes hit something. One of tiles in Tanaka's room was a bit raised. Ciel kneeled down and tried to take the tile off with his cold delicate hands. After a few minutes and a small cut, Ciel succeeded in removing the tile. Under the tile, there was a small ornate wooden box. The box looked extremely well made and it had Japanese art and writings all over it.

Ciel opened the box to discover a bunch of old paper written in Japanese. Thankfully, Sebastian had taught Ciel a bit of Japanese, and unfortunately Ciel never paid attention. So Ciel was only able to decipher some of the faint writing. Ciel could only make out the following words: I'm sorry, fire, loved, samurai, and my fault. The word fire was written the most.

As Ciel picked up the last paper, he saw a photograph at the bottom of the box. It was old and seemed as if it were taken 50 years ago. He picked it up and examined it. He cried in horror when he saw the contents of the photograph. In the photograph there were three samurai. The one in the middle had a face that Ciel did not recognize. However, Ciel knew the faces of the other two samurai. The left samurai was non other than Tanaka, who while young, was still quite recognizable. The samurai on the right was non other than Sebastian.

"What the hell!!?", screamed Ciel. Never had Ciel felt so lost in his life.

The doorknob started turning quickly and Ciel tried to reach the window in hurry. The door opens to reveal Tanaka, looking mortified. "Ciel, what are you doing here!?", he yelled.

Ciel held on to the blanket with one hand and held the photograph towards Tanaka with the other hand. "What's the meaning of this Tanaka!? How long have you known Sebastian!?", he screamed.

Tanaka started crying and said, "Ciel let me explain...my secret shame has come to light". Tanaka looked at Ciel, straight in the eye and continued, "Before I became a servant in the Phantomhive Manor, I was a samurai in Japan. As Japan opened its doors to the western world, the number of samurai dwindled. My friend Makoto and I were one of the only samurai left in Japan. Even as we were one of the few, there was still a lot of competition among samurai to be one of the best. My friend Makoto was obsessed with being the most strongest and powerful samurai in all of Japan. He somehow got in contact with western traders who happened to be occultists. Makoto summoned Sebastian and with his help, he became the most powerful demon in Japan. Afterwards, Sebastian consumed his soul."

"During the time in which Sebastian served Makoto, I started having feelings towards Sebastian. He was perfect Ciel, the most perfect being in the whole world. I loved him. When Sebastian consumed Makoto's soul, I was horrified that Sebastian was going to leave me. I couldn't let that happen. I just couldn't."

"After many years of sadness and regret of not confessing my love to Sebastian when I had the chance, I decided to retire from being a samurai. I was walking in the streets of Tokyo one day when I overheard of a man talking about how he wanted a foreign butler with good skills. I wanted something to forget my love for Sebastian, so I offered my services to the man who was non other than Vincent Phantomhive."

"Yet, as a butler in England, I still couldn't forget my love for Sebastian. I wanted to summon Sebastian but I wasn't in the right state of mind and emotional stress to summon a demon as strong as Sebastian. Everyone I knew had perfect lives so they didn't need a demon."

Tanaka looked at Ciel in the eye and continued, "One day I woke up and decided that Sebastian had to be with me. That day, I killed the other servants of the Phantomhive manor and set the manor on fire. Whoever would survive the fire would be in the right amount of emotional trauma to summon Sebastian."

"I injured myself to make it look like I wasn't a suspect and retreated to safety while I waited for one of the Phantomhives to survive. Unfortunately, Rachel and Vincent perished and you, Ciel, went missing. I lost hope immediately."

"One day, you showed up again with the love of my life. I almost cried but I had to act surprised in seeing you."

Before Tanaka could continue, Sebastian entered the room all wet and carrying hundreds of cats. He was blushing and looking at Tanaka. "Ta...Tanaka...I didn't know you felt this way about me!"

Ciel was still in shock. He glared at Sebastian and yelled, "Sebastian I can't believe that you spent hours bringing cats from the rain! And don't come near me! You know I'm allergic to cats!"

Sebastian stared at Ciel, "My lord, can you believe that there are thousands of cats out there that don't have a home? Thousands! Can I keep them all?", he stated.

Ciel ignored his reply, "That doesn't matter Sebastian. Just kill Tanaka! He was the one that started the fire that killed my family and destroyed my innocence and happiness! This was part of our contract! Kill him Sebastian, and then you can have my soul!"

Sebastian dropped the cats on Ciel. "My lord", he said, "Forget the contract, you can live happily now."

Sebastian walked towards Tanaka and proclaimed, "Tanaka, I didn't know you felt this way about me. You don't know how many times that I looked at you with such longing. Now that we expressed our feelings for each other, let's run away in Hell together!"

"Yes my love!", cheered Tanaka as they both ran towards the sunset together while the rain stopped and Ciel drowned in cats.

Series this work belongs to:

Part 1 of Tanakabastian Takeover 2k15 Next Work →

#black butler fanfiction

0 notes

inkdrinkershadowsinger · 4 years

Text

ACOTAR Couples Headcanons

Rhysand and Feyre

They are the Pottery Barn couple one hundred percent.

Still wildly in love even centuries later because they genuinely believe that no one is better than the other person.

If Harry Potter existed in this world, you cannot tell me that Feyre wouldn’t be a diehard Potterhead.

Rhysand is one of those people who genuinely believes in conspiracy theories. He would have a tumblr dedicated to them.

Midnight cookie baking is a thing. The warmth of oven, the whispers because they don’t want to wake Nyx, and the complete and utter happiness of just being able to be together.

Lucien and Elain

Elain thinks that there is no one Earth who is more of a gentleman than Lucien. And Lucien definitely bumps up that gentlemanly behavior because he knows that she likes it.

Elain may not be a big reader, but she loves poetry. She loves how people can use words to mutate meaning and declare feelings that they wouldn’t be able to otherwise. She wishes that she were more eloquent, but since she can’t be, she allows poetry to do that for her.

Lucien can’t keep his eyes from Elain, and not in a, “You are so beautiful. I can’t stop staring at you way.” But in a, “Is this real way?” He doesn’t realize that when he’s not looking, Elain is looking at him in exactly the same way.

The parties that these two have are legendary. Their parties are always at the same time the best, the wildest, the calmest, and the place to be. They just have that energy that can shift and become whatever the people around them need them to be.

The two of them have the most lavish mating ceremony. He is the son of a High Lord and beloved of many Courts. Between them most all of the Courts demand an invitation, and it becomes quite the state affair.

Azriel and Gwyn

Azriel is known for his straight face, but when Gwyn’s around you can see everything that is thinking, whether that is thinking about how beautiful she is or smirking because she said something funny or contemplative because he’s thinking deeply about what is bothering her. Around her, he is an open book.

Gwyn is an absolute weirdo, but only because she is so academic. She is constantly studying a hundred different things at once, and she can recite any of those things at the drop of a hat. She is ridiculously intelligent and well spoken. Azriel will always look to her first when seeking information or an opinion.

At first, Azriel is weary of the services that are offered in the Library. He knows that they are meant for the women there so he doesn’t want to intrude, but when the priestesses decide to host a special service in the training area, Azriel joins them. He sings beautifully, and more than one person is brought to tears when he and Gwyn sing together.

When Gwyn is pregnant and her body seems to be betraying her. No sleep. Upset stomach. The only thing that calms her is when Az takes her flying. In the air, they take in the sight of Velaris, and something about the wind and the cool air settles Gwyn. It is no surprise when the baby is born with wings.

When Azriel and Gwyn have a child, Azriel can’t help but to look at the differences between his scarred and bloody hands the innocence of this child, but one talk from Gwyn and he realizes that he is being stupid. “You are whole because I love you,” she tells him. “And I am whole because you love me.” “And together, we will be more than enough for this perfect child. We can do anything, together, as a family.”

Mor and Emerie

Mor and Emerie are that couple that are never home, but when they come back from whatever far away land, they always have gifts for everyone. Sometimes, Mor even lets Emerie pick out the gifts though she still insists that she has the best taste.

Mor has never been obsessed with anyone quite in the way that she is with Emerie. If she weren’t so dang cute, Emerie might find it a bit weird, but Mor is Mor, and she is gorgeous, and Emerie loves her. So what if Mor keeps a scrapbook of their time together. Emerie will appreciate it centuries later as much as she appreciates it now.

Emerie has and always will be a badass on the battlefield. There is something about battle that gets her blood pumping. Maybe it because she wasn’t allowed to fight for so long, that now she loves it. When she and Mor are on the battle field or in the training ring together, nothing can stop them. The two move in perfect unison, and their blades and hands are deadly instruments.

When Mor finally decides to come out to her family, Emerie is right there by her side. Emerie, the woman who never gave into her own bigoted family, is a support for Mor when she needs her. And she is a fist when Keir tries to humiliate Mor. “She is in charge here,” she says. “Not you. She has always been better than you, and she always will be.” Keir leaves their presence with more than a broken spirit, a broken nose.

The pair are always holding hands. They love just being around one another, and it shows to everyone that they see. For years, Mor has had to hide who she is, but now, she walks the streets of Velaris hand in hand with the person that she loves most in the world.

Amren and Varian

Amren never knew what it meant to love. She still isn’t sure that she loves Varian, but she is suspicious of how much she cares for him. She knows that if anything happened to him, that she would want to burn the world to the ground. Rhys informs her that the feeling is very much love, and she considers it before deciding that maybe it’s not so bad.

Amren goes to the summer court on occasion, and she gets a little jolt of pleasure when someone remembers her past, and jumps at her presence. Varian laughs along with her. Nice isn’t meant for everyone. Amren will be Amren. And he likes her just the way she is.

The pair love to swim together in the Adriata. The sun glistens off of their skin, and each think that there is no better picture in the world.

Game night is a blood bath. Amren and Varian versus whoever, it doesn’t matter, Amren plays to win, and Varian plays to help Amren win. No matter what.

A mating ceremony may not be in the cards for them, but when Nesta tells them about the human concept of marriage. Amren demands a wedding. It is held in Velaris. The dress is huge. The cake is delicious. And Amren smiles.

Cassian and Nesta

Cassian and Nesta are the definition of ‘’I can make fun of them, but if you try it, you die.”

Nesta has never been partial to animals, but Cassian can’t seem to keep from bringing them home. Animals are just attracted to him. Nesta is the father that doesn’t want the dang animal to begin with, but then secretly gives it cuddles and treats whenever no one is around to witness her. They end up liking Nesta more than Cassian.

Cassian and Nesta love to talk. They just love to hear each other speak. It can be about important matters or it can be about nothing at all. But they always have their best conversations in the middle of the night. Lights off, the house quiet the pair whisper back and forth about books, about life, about love, the future, the past, nothing if off limits.

When the two have a daughter, she is the best parts of each of them. She challenges them in her teenage years, but even when the trio argue, they always come back together again because they are family. And no one knows what that means more than Nesta and Cassian.

There is not a night that the pair spend out of each others’ arms. They are simply the most comfortable and the most at peace when they hold each other as they sleep.

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 3 years

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if you’re going my way, i’ll go with you - chapter 1

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, character!Thomas Rating: Teen & up (see Warnings) Relationships: Parental Virgil & Roman, Analogical, eventual Dukeceit Warnings: Language, very vaguely implied child abuse Word count: 3398 Notes: Superpowers AU with found family!

Read on AO3!

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Summary: Virgil has a comfortable and steady job as the main supervillain of Sandersville. He has a routine. Life is good. He wasn’t planning on a new superhero showing up—and he especially wasn’t planning on this Prince Creativity figure turning out to be a literal child whose home life clearly isn’t the best. Virgil isn’t a dad. But when he winds up taking Roman in, and what was going to be a day of protection turns into weeks of bedtime stories and helping with homework and making home-cooked meals, he realizes that maybe he could be. -- Basically: have you ever seen those tumblr posts that are like “what if the supervillain found out the newest superhero is a kid and immediately adopts them because clearly all the adults in their life are shit if they allowed the kid to do this” ? This is that, with protective supervillain Virgil adopting energetic kid!superhero Roman and proceeding to give him all the attention and love he's been craving his whole life. Found family shenanigans galore.

Chapter 1

“Villain!”

Virgil sighed, drifted to a stop, and twirled slowly in midair, straightening his shoulders and taking on a threatening pose. “What do you wa—?” He broke off and stared at the superhero who’d challenged him, blinking. “Who are you?” There were a lot of heroes in Sandersville, but he could usually at least recognize them. This person—short, pale skin and a few dark freckles, with a outfit of glittering white material with gold trim and a red sash vaguely reminiscent of a Disney movie, oddly padded in the shoulder and chest area as if to conceal the wearer’s build—was new. Their face was entirely covered by a standard eye mask (but more glittery than the standard) and a second, plainer mask—the only non-glittery part of their outfit, in fact, now that Virgil thought about it—that covered the lower half of their face and had some sort of device built into the front.

The person put their hands on their hips and tilted their chin upward, their sparkling red cape flowing in the breeze behind them. “You can call me Prince Creativity,” they announced, and Virgil came to the realization that the device on their mask was likely a voice modulator. “And I’m here to—”

“What are your pronouns?” Virgil interrupted, bored already, examining his fingernails.

“...What?”

“Mine are he/him,” Virgil offered with a shrug.

“Um.” The person stared at him through their mask—a glittering red affair that matched the cape—seeming bewildered by Virgil’s lack of dramatics.

“You do have the right person, yes?” Virgil gestured towards the logo emblazoned on his chest. “The Nightmare? Scourge of Sandersville? That’s who you were looking for? Cool. Can I have your pronouns before we fight and I hand out your semi-weekly humiliating defeat, or whatever, please?”

“I—he/him,” the Prince said. His tone was hard to read through the voice modulator he spoke into. “Not that you’d care.”

“Excellent, thanks. And actually, I would care, that’s why I asked. Getting misgendered sucks, I don’t want to do it to anyone else. Now that that’s out of the way, I am going to let you know right now that I’m a very busy villain and my services are in high demand, so if you’re going to want to fight me on the regular, I’m going to need you to book those. You’re new, so today can be a freebie, but I do like to know my schedule ahead of—whoa!”

The Prince had evidently not been interested in learning how to schedule an appointment with Virgil; he’d shot a blast of shimmering glittery substance out of his bare hand. That was new.

Virgil ducked, mostly due to instinct, and threw up a shield. “That is not nice,” he said, not bothering to be particularly polite about it. “Not very heroic when the villain has the better manners, now is it?”

“You hurt people!” Prince Creativity snapped, sending another blast of glitter at Virgil’s shield. This one actually held a form, creating some kind of blade that knocked against Virgil’s purple energy shield.

The shield dented, which Virgil had not been expecting. “Not true. I have a strict policy against injuring civilians,” he said, trying hard to play it cool. “It’s actually publicly available. My villainy is perfectly ethical.” He focused on the shield, coaxing its magic back into shape.

“Those two words don’t even belong in the same sentence!” The hero sent another blast, and Virgil swore under his breath, flying downwards a few feet.

“Name one person I’ve hurt outside of the Heroes’ Guild,” he challenged, reaching into one of the pouches on his utility belt.

“Stop avoiding me!” the hero snapped, pushing a blast with two hands this time. It curved through the air as Virgil dodged and clipped his ankle, leaving his entire foot painful and tingly.

Virgil sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth. “Alright. I tried to be nice, but somebody didn’t bring any manners to the table. Don’t you lot have a code of ethics?” He launched the item he’d pulled from his utility belt into the air—a device that dampened shadow- and light-based powers. He wasn’t sure if it would work on the Prince’s glitter bolts—he’d never seen those before—but it seemed like a good first thing to try, and Virgil had more than enough powers to fall back on when his shadows were inaccessible. The device paused at the peak of its arc, high in the air above them, and hovered there, emitting a faint peach-colored glow.

“What is that?” the hero said, a note of trepidation making its way through the modulator. He gazed up at the device.

Virgil took advantage of this momentary distraction to unhook his general superblaster–one he’d equipped with a dozen of the common settings he used. He switched it to scuffle mode. It should land hits, but not dangerous ones. He fired a warning blast at the hero’s shoulder.

Prince Creativity was knocked off balance; he cried out as he went tumbling head over heels in the air, and Virgil noted that his flight ability seemed to fall into the category Virgil had dubbed “invisible floor.” The Prince didn’t lose any altitude as he fell or as he regained his footing. Good to know.

“I tried being nice,” Virgil said once again with a shrug. “But, I mean, if you want to play with the big boys, who am I to judge?” He kicked off of nothing, noting that the foot the Prince had hit a moment ago was almost back to normal, and soared about twenty feet into the air, dodging a retaliatory blast the Prince aimed at him. Hm. So his powers still worked, even under the damper, and they weren’t noticeably diminished. Pity.

Virgil was half of a mind to draw this out and gather as much information on the new guy’s powers as he could, in order to begin properly formulating a decent strategy of defense against him for the future, but he did have a meeting later that afternoon. It was probably best to conclude this now.

That in mind, Virgil shifted into an actual “fight” mindset. He sped forward, dodging the couple of blasts that the hero shot towards him, and zapped the hero with a bolt of static as he whizzed past him.

Prince Creativity yelped, whirling on his heel and flinging up his hand—but Virgil was ready and began shooting nets of the same energy his shields were made of to catch the glittery substance and stop it from reaching himself. This worked out surprisingly well—very little of the substance made it through the net, and once it lost its shape like that, it dissipated into the air.

Virgil shot his blaster again, a burst of energy designed to knock the Prince off his feet long enough for Virgil to get a nice one-liner in and leave.

But the hero nearly dodged Virgil’s blast; instead of hitting him square in the chest like Virgil had intended, it skimmed his face and knocked his mouth mask askew with a rip of fabric and a crunching noise that sounded a lot like breaking electronics.

“Ow!” the Prince cried, his voice no longer distorted by the mouthpiece and much higher than it had been before. His hand flew to his mouth, tugging desperately at the piece—which Virgil was realizing must be a voice modulator—and crying out in pain again when it let out a crackle of electricity.

“You—are you a child?” Virgil pulled back, flying several yards backwards.

“No!” the boy, who definitely was a child holy shit his voice wasn’t cracking because it wasn’t even deep enough to crack, insisted. He lunged forward. “Fight me! I’m a hero, you have to fight me!” He shot another blast, this one desperate and poorly aimed.

“I’m not hitting a child!” Virgil snapped, dodging easily. “Do your parents know you’re out here?”

“I’m not—I’m not a kid!”

“Yeah, pull the other one, it’s got bells on.” Virgil put his hands on his hips. “This is dangerous stuff, you shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re not my mom!” The little hero tried once again to tug his mouthpiece back into place, like fixing it would undo Virgil’s new knowledge. He yelped and shook his hand, dropping it almost instantly.

Virgil hesitated. “Hey.” He gentled his voice as much as he could, given that he was still internally panicking. “Let me help with that.”

“No!” Now it was the hero’s turn to scoot backwards through the air, hands flying up into two defensive fists, trails of glitter shimmering around them.

Virgil sighed. “I’m not going to hurt you, kid.” He shoved his blaster into his belt and held out his hands palm-up in what was hopefully a nonthreatening manner. “I just don’t want your voice device thing shorting out right next to your face anymore. Okay?” He moved closer, testing the waters.

“No!” the hero insisted shrilly, backpedaling further. “You’re a villain! It’s your job!”

“Listen, my job is to fight idiots in brightly colored pantyhose. Not kids. You should be”—Virgil paused, trying to think of what kids did in their free time—“I don’t know, building a treehouse, or something. Not fighting crime. And that gadget is clearly not safe for you right now. Let me help.”

“No!” The kid hiccuped, which cued Virgil in just in time to notice the tears slipping from under his upper mask. Virgil was relieved to note that this was still safely in place, concealing the kid’s identity.

Virgil sighed. “C’mere,” he said, done playing whatever this game was. “You can come over here and let me fix that, or I can wait until you change your mind, but I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe. I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

The boy crossed his arms. “Why should I believe you?”

“Jesus! Because you’re a child, what part of that is hard to understand? Now, are you coming over here?” Virgil pointed at the patch of air in front of his feet.

He didn’t miss the child’s barely perceptible flinch at the sharper tone. The boy didn’t come closer like Virgil had asked, but he stilled, hanging in midair and waiting, watching Virgil warily.

“Okay, I can come over there if that’s easier,” Virgil said. He made his movements large, slow, and deliberate, easy to track. The boy stayed still, tense, and didn’t speak.

Virgil stopped when he was just within arm’s reach. “I’m going to take the mouthpiece off so it can’t shock you anymore, okay? I won’t touch your mask or do anything else.”

The kid wrinkled his nose. “Whatever.”

Virgil reached out and unhooked the mouthpiece from the ear it was still dangling from, careful not to dislodge the second mask over the child’s eyes. A loose wire sticking out of the broken contraption brushed against his glove and zapped him; he bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t react. “This seems pretty busted,” he said lightly. “You should get Dr. Logic to take a look at it.” He examined the mask until he found the power switch and flipped it off. “See if he can make it sturdier.”

The boy blinked at him, wide-eyed. “You know Dr. Logic?”

“We’re acquainted,” Virgil said with a shrug. “The Doc is pretty much the only hero smart enough to actually be an annoyance to me. He should be able to set you up just fine.” He held out the mask. “Get him to fix it up. Talk about it inconveniencing you and he’ll probably invent you a new one overnight that’s ten times better. Also please stop trying to fight adults, you could get seriously hurt.”

The kid crossed his arms. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Right. Right. Okay, here’s what you’re going to do. I’m going to back up and you’re going to blast me once with your weird glitter stuff, and then we’re both going to leave. Okay?”

“Huh?”

“I need to look like I was incapacitated for long enough for you to get away, since I’m not fighting a kid. Blast me once and leave, I’ll say it was a lucky hit. No strings attached. Okay?” He backed up and spread his arms out.

The boy stared at Virgil for a moment. “You’re sure?”

“I get worse every week. Go for it.”

The kid squeezed his eyes shut and pushed wildly at the air in Virgil’s general direction; Virgil went tumbling backwards in the air, his whole body lighting up with tingly pain.

By the time he righted himself and blinked the glitter away, the boy was gone.

***

When Virgil got home, he didn’t even take off his supersuit before heading to his room and pulling out his personal phone. He pulled up his favorited contacts and hit call.

Logan picked up before the second ring. “Are you alright, V?” he asked. He was alone, or Virgil knew he wouldn’t have picked up, but the use of the nickname indicated he wasn’t sure he’d be alone for the duration of the call.

“I’m fine, L,” Virgil said quickly. He usually didn’t call Logan without warning, certainly not during work hours. “Sorry. Listen, you know the new super? Prince Charming theme?”

“We’ve met.”

“What do you know about him?”

There was a pause. “Dear, you know I am not comfortable having this kind of discussion.” Virgil didn’t need to see Logan’s face to know exactly the startled frown he must be wearing.

“No! Not for work reasons! Obviously I wouldn’t ask you for intel on someone. Listen, how old is he?”

“How should I know?” Logan still sounded irritated. “I don’t make a habit of asking personal questions of my coworkers.”

“No—L—would you just shut up and listen for a second?” Virgil began pacing around the room. “He came at me today—”

“Oh, dear.”

“No, no, I went easy on him, since he’s new. He’s fine. But my point is, he’s a kid.”

“What?”

“His voice thing broke. That, and his weird padded costume? Covering up the fact that he’s a child. He can’t be more than high school age. If that.”

Logan was silent for just a couple of beats. “That makes a lot of sense, actually.”

“Okay, supergenius.” Virgil chuckled. “Okay, but like, he can’t do that. Right?”

“Do what?”

“The whole super thing. You know?”

Logan hummed thoughtfully. “I do not believe we have age restrictions set out explicitly. It’s more of an understood thing. People generally aren’t eager to get involved with The Nightmare, so it’s not been an issue before. I don’t know that we could remove him on the basis of his age.”

“That’s stupid!” Virgil burst out.

He could practically hear Logan’s shrug over the phone. “Perhaps. I will look into it. But I would prefer not to interfere with the personal business of others.”

“L, he’s a kid, there is no way it’s safe for him to be doing this! What do you mean, you won’t interfere? Please interfere! Find his parents! Get him grounded! Send them the address of a super school or something!”

“That seems a little drastic.”

“If I hadn’t got the lucky shot that broke his voice modulator I could have hurt him! It’ll only be a matter of time before he doesn’t get lucky with someone else! Please, L. I can’t—”

“I’ll…” Logan sighed. “I’ll keep an eye on him. If he seems to be unequivocally biting off more than he can chew, I will see if he needs resources.”

“He’s a kid! He can’t just—”

“I am unwilling to infringe on another person’s free will unless a clear need presents itself, V. I will fulfill your request to the degree I am ethically comfortable with. I’m afraid I must go, I have a meeting in ten minutes, but we can discuss this more at a later date if you wish. Perhaps over dinner? There’s a lovely Italian place near the river where I’ve been meaning to take you.”

Virgil grumbled wordlessly for a minute, but recognized he was unlikely to get more out of his boyfriend on this front just yet. “Fine. I’m free Tuesday?”

“Tuesday it will be. I love you, dear.”

Virgil closed his eyes and smiled, pretending the phone pressed against his cheek was Logan’s hand. “Love you too, L. See you later.”

He pocketed the phone as Logan hung up and ran his hands through his hair. He’d really hoped he’d be able to get Logan to help him out with this one; Logan was by far the best option. But it seemed like the best option was going to have to wait until he could convince his boyfriend this was a serious problem. In the meantime he would have to explore other avenues.

Making up his mind, Virgil made his way to his office and pressed a button on the wall. “Hey, Thomas?” he said into the intercom.

“Yes?” his head henchman (Virgil thought the job title was pretentious, but he did have a reputation to keep up) responded.

“I need a new intel file started. New hero. Calls himself Prince Creativity.”

“Um…”

Even through the intercom, Virgil could hear Thomas’s obvious discomfort. This was not unexpected.

It was an open secret that, technically, Thomas worked for the Heroes’ Guild and was, technically, a government plant sent to spy on Virgil. Or at least, that had been how he’d started working with Virgil, nearly a decade ago. Once the city had begun to notice that Virgil—despite his startling array of powers—was really more into villainy for the aesthetics and for personal amusement rather than to cause harm to others, and especially once they had begun to notice that Virgil was able to keep all the local villainy under control better than the entire Heroes’ Guild combined, the attempts to genuinely bring The Nightmare down had casually tapered off. Poor Thomas had been somewhat abandoned by his original employers. But by that point Virgil was quite fond of him and the two had worked out a villain/henchperson rapport that worked well for both of them; Virgil had been more than happy to keep him on staff.

This was a good thing 99% of the time, and Virgil knew he wouldn’t hesitate to trust Thomas with his life if it ever came down to it. The only rough patch they consistently ran into was the fact that Thomas seemed to consider himself loyal to both his original employers and to Virgil now, and would panic when he ran into situations that created direct conflicts of interest. Asking for intel on specific heroes certainly fell into that area. But Virgil felt it was justified in this instance. Hopefully he could convince Thomas of this.

“I’m not trying to find weaknesses. I don’t even care about his specific identity,” Virgil said, and he could practically see Thomas’s shoulders slumping in relief to match the sigh that came through the intercom. “I just want to make sure his home life is safe,” Virgil went on. “He’s way too young to be out doing super work. I have serious questions for anyone who’d let a kid try and fight grown adults on his own, powers or no. So either his parents don’t know, or…” Well, he hoped it was just that the boy’s parents didn’t know. He could cross other bridges if and when they proved to be real.

There was a brief silence. Virgil counted down the seconds, wondering how close he could get to the moment Thomas would emerge from his moral quandary with the conclusion that the safety of a child was a suitably heroic motive. Three… two…

“I’ll get that going for you right away, Virge,” Thomas’s voice said over the intercom.

Virgil smiled to himself. “Thanks,” he said. “Also, when you get a chance, make sure that robbery Scorpion’s folks are planning in the south quarter for Tuesday gets shut down. If they complain, tell them—well, first of all, tell them it’s not a request.” Being the head of the Villain’s Guild had its perks. “But tell them I said I’ll find a way to make it up to them. Just keep them out of the area. I have a date.”

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scribble-blog · 5 years

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Soulmate AU, part 1

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Huge thanks to the Maribat Fandom tumblr chat, without whom I wouldn’t have made this blog or posted this piece (or probably written this at all given that it’s a maribat fanfic)! @the-fusionist and @rebecarojas07 specifically for encouraging me!

*****

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Damian is a week shy of fourteen the day the names appear inked on people’s skin, when he wakes up to ink that doesn’t wash off and the news reports that all around the world people have woken up to find the same phenomenon.

The world accepts it readily enough.

Soulmates.

There are tales of it happening before, every mythology and history and folklore delved into and the proof brought forward, but no one actually can say what triggered it, or why now.

In Paris, Marinette wakes up the day after she becomes Ladybug, a dark inked name of her own blooming vivid across her skin.

“It’s because you’re a true holder, Marinette,” Tikki says almost bouncing in midair. “People can use the Miraculous without being as in tune with them, but when we land in the hands of someone who is not just attuned, but truly meant for us- interesting things happen! Especially with the Ladybug Miraculous! These markings reveal who your Soulmate is!”

Her eyes still skim over the writing, and she has to hold in her almost immediate disappointment when she doesn’t see the two swirling A’s she wanted.

“Damian Wayne.”

*****

Marinette doesn’t let it get to her most days, the fact that the name across the front of her shoulder and the name of the boy she feels she’s lost her heart to aren’t the same.

Adrien, for his part, says nothing about what name he has, and it isn’t visible for anyone to find out.

Marinette keeps her designs modest in the neckline, always layers with her favorite jacket and does not say hers either.

The world divides into those who show them proudly, who build forums and websites and apps where people try desperately to connect with their soulmate, and those who decide that to seek it out would ruin the- destiny of it all.

Marinette doesn’t even google him.

She doesn’t want to think about destiny any more than she has to.

*****

Damian keeps it hidden from his family. Grayson has Kori’s name running down his neck, and though they don’t show them off, he’s aware that Todd and Drake have their own as well. Father’s got “Selina Kyle” trailing from his wrist down to the side of his left thumb.

Grayson asks him, once. He shuts it down immediately, and he doesn’t get asked again.

*****

Lila claims her soulmate is someone rich, reclusive, and far away. She doesn’t give details about who they are, but she can tell you millions of stories about how they met as children, grew up knowing each other, how he’d begged for her to stay by his side but she had sighed and told him she must be free to live her own life! And how he waited for her even now to return once she’d graduated and they could marry and be fabulously wealthy and beautiful and happy together.

The class fawns over it. Each time the elusive soulmate is mentioned, Marinette locks eyes with Adrien and Chloé, unable to voice her annoyance but perfectly able to share it with them.

Alya sneers under her breath sometimes, when Lila is being particularly mouthy with her lies, that Marinette has always refused to show or even talk about her mark. That perhaps she doesn’t have one at all.

Marinette doesn’t ever respond.

Adrien tried his hardest to shut them down when they start moving in towards her or Chloé like sharks. She’d lost her crush on him when he’d told her to let Lila lie, that she wasn’t hurting anyone. And then Chloé had knocked on her door one day and- apologized.

Marinette had accepted.

And then when Chloé found out that Adrien not only knew but had actually allowed Lila to continue spinning her lies, she’d taken the boy to task and explained very clearly that Lila could not be treated the same way as his Father, where staying quiet and giving in was the only way to weather his unsavory bad moods. And while his Father demanded he still associate with Lila and keep her placated, that shouldn’t stop him from standing up and doing something when she started actively going after people the way she’d gone for Marinette.

He’d very quickly apologized to Marinette and started, if not scolding Lila when she targeted Marinette, at least trying to guide her and the rest of the class away from any interactions they might have initiated because of Lila’s words.

And now, even if the hours spent at Francois DuPont were chilly and quietly isolated for the three of them, they could meet up at the bakery for lunch, and more often than not now, they would spend evenings hanging out in either Chloé’s room or Marinette’s and it almost made up for it.

*****

Damian has been dead before.

He watches a girl in his class start screaming as the name splayed across her palm withers, it almost looks like it dissolved into her veins, the ink shrinking and bleeding into normal, unmarked skin.

He goes home and he looks at the long curling script that circles the right side of his chest, sweeping across his ribs. Marinette Dupain-Cheng exists somewhere and he wonders if dying once is enough that his name never showed up on her.

He searches the last names. He finds a small but well known and very well loved bakery in Paris, France, with mentions of the owners, Tom and Sabine, and one daughter.

He closes it out.

*****

Marinette turns 16.

It’s not momentous, as she once thought it would be. It’s another day facing the cold sneers of her classmates, catching Adrien and Chloé’s eyes and waiting until the end of the day when she can go home where her parents will have a cake waiting for her, Chloé, Adrien, Kagami, and Luka over, visits from Nadja and Manon, and hopefully some calls from her great uncle Wang and her pseudo uncle Jagged with Penny. Birthdays in this class used to be extravagant, and they still are- for everyone who Lila allowed it.

But Marinette’s birthday will be a quiet affair, at home with her family and her truest friends, her team, and she can’t help but prefer that.

*****

Damian turns 17. Dick marries Kori. Father and Catwoman continue their game of cat and mouse (who is what in this scenario?) and Todd keeps leaving and coming back, and Drake says nothing but acts as if he still knows everything. Damian is, in almost all ways, more capable than most of the old men that do business with Wayne Enterprises and he still has to sit through school and act like birthday parties matter or mean anything to him.

(They do. They do. He can count on one hand how many birthdays he’s ever actually celebrated.)

He’d like to know why he feels so unsatisfied.

*****

Ms. Bustier calls her aside when they break for lunch.

“Marinette,” she begins, and Marinette sighs internally, bracing for another round of upbeat admonishments.

“As class representative, I need you to start staying after class with me for the next few weeks at least- perhaps we can start tomorrow. The submission you made to the Wayne Enterprises Community Awareness and Support Program won, and we have to start planning for the trip in July.”

Marinette stops short. “Wait, trip?”

Mme. Bustier straightens her papers and selects one, handing it to Marinette. On it is a very formal letter from representatives of Wayne Enterprises, congratulating her and her class on their community outreach and outlining the award money they have been offered to plan their trip to visit Wayne Enterprises in person.

Marinette struggles not to sit there with her jaw dropped to the floor. “I didn’t realize there was any actual- reward. I thought it was just an award or recognition?”

Mme. Bustier gives her the smile she used to give her on a daily basis, back when Marinette had cared about making her teacher that happy with every success their class had. “Well, then it’s just as happy a surprise for you as for the rest of the class! I’ll send a note home with you tonight explaining why you’ll be staying after school for the foreseeable future. I won’t ever keep you longer than an hour.”

Marinette knew that would not be true, but it wasn’t as if she couldn’t make up an excuse to leave when necessary. “Yes. We’ll want the trip to be planned perfectly, especially if we’re going to Gotham. Thank you, Mme. Bustier!”

She skips out to lunch, runs across the street to the bakery to meet her friends and tells them the news.

*****

Damian thinks about her often, even if he doesn’t want to. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the baker’s daughter somewhere in Paris, presumably, who may or may not have his name somewhere scrawled on her body.

He doesn’t search anything about her again. Even that single search that led him to her parents’ patisserie was risky.

Jon can tell him everything he wants to about the happiness between himself and his soulmate. His siblings can tiptoe around the subject, happy themselves and never bringing it up to him again. He watches people at school, wondering which of the couples are bound by the words inked into their skin and which are the ones who decided to forego fate. It takes him a very long time to figure out that despite himself, despite his brothers and his allies and his few friends, he is lonely.

*****

Seven weeks before the trip to Gotham, Marinette’s mother finds the Miracle Box.

Marinette hasn’t had Master Fu to guide her in a very long time. She is, in name and deed, the true Guardian of the Miraculous now.

Marinette breaks down on her mother’s shoulder for the first time in four years, since Hawkmoth started terrorizing Paris. Sabine, terrified and proud and angry, soothes her daughter, holds her and runs her hand over her hair, and asks her daughter what she can do.

Marinette has an idea.

#maribat #daminette #daminette soulmates #fanfic #soulmate au

2K notes · View notes

hopekiedokie · 4 years

Text

Mall is Life | INTRO : She’s Broke, He’s Broke, We’re All Broke!

Summary: Your dad thinks it’s best for you to pay off the credit card that you just maxed out. Meaning, it’s time for you to finally get your very first job…at the mall. As a true blue spoiled daughter from a very rich family, what could possibly happen? Form a labour union and overthrow the oppressive government with 7 other underpaid and overworked guys??? Or maybe just form a bond with them and have the best time of your life?

Pairing: bts x reader

Genre: mall!au, lowkey a sitcom, fluff, eventual angst, and a whole lot of pure crack

Word count: 5.3k+

Notes: As I’m doing final rewrites for this, I overheard my co-teacher call one of our students a “crack” and I honestly have never related hard to a student. Anyways, transferring this from gdocs to tumblr took sooooo long. I literally aged 10 years. I didn’t think writing in this style would be such a pain so I really do hope you enjoy this! Keep safe and hang on while the world still seems like it’s on its way to destruction.

Posted on: 8th of Jan, 2021

— • masterlist | Character Guide | INTRO | next • —

Red

Red is all you see.

Your vision has been clouded by the colour red since the moment you stepped inside the mall.

Sale season is upon you and red tags are everywhere!

Buy one get one for a girlfriend sized “boyfriend t-shirt”, a free cookie if you get 7 drinks, 5% off on your next purchase from Kucci and… Gasp! 75% off for a light sabre handheld immersion blender???

Do you even cook or watch Star Trek or whatever it’s called? Heck no.

bUT IT’S MORE THAN HALF OFF and it looks cool so might as well get it.

Right?

You saunter off towards the sights of free or marked down signs to start making damages.

“Ehem.”

The sound of your best friend, Taehyung’s voice, freezes you in place and you feel like a kid caught in the act of stealing a candy.

Literally, you have both your hands in front of you with your mouth open and watering.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” His hands are placed on his hips, like a slightly inconvenienced Karen.

“Oh, uh...I was just, you know!? About to admire the general splendour!”

He was like, ya right sweetie.

“Shut up. This isn’t a Jane Austen book.”

Well, one can dream.

And lowkey, you were kinda expecting him to not get the reference.

…or even understand what you just said.

Damn.

You really need to give Taehyung some credit.

He is after all, your best friend and that is an achievement in itself.

“Focus, y/n. FOCUS. We’re here on a mission, don’t get distracted.”

Ugh, right.

Reality hit you again like a ton of bricks.

“And as if you can afford anything! Unless, you’re in for some service water.”

You scoff hard.

Though he isn’t lying.

See, the thing is, your family is rich.

Like rich 𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑯.

Like “rent a whole stadium for your dad’s morning run” rich

You, alone, though?

ʰᵉ ʰᵉ ʰᵉ

“Sorry, you’re absolutely right. We’re here for one thing only and that is to find a job! We’re not leaving until we get one.”

And that’s what you did for the next two hours

Job hunting

You might be wondering, “If we're so rich then why are we looking for a job?”

Well kids, let me tell you a quick story.

Here’s what happened

A week ago, you had probably the most embarrassing yet most eye opening experience of your life.

You were shopping

(like duh do you have anything else to do?)

And your credit card got…

Wait for it…

…………….

🚫DECLINED🚫

◉.◉

Like, that can happen????

Next thing you know, you’re on the phone with your dad and he is MAD

You don’t even know why he is so pressed about it.

Okay, so you maxed out one of his seemingly endless supply of credit cards.

BIG DEAL.

It’s not like he lost a bunch of money.

Maybe to a normal person, yeah…

BUT to you guys?

Come on! He can earn that money back in like two days.

Besides, he always goes on saying that he'd willingly give everything for you, his one and only princess.

bUT NOoOOoo! He has to teach you to be rEsPoNsIbLe with money! You need to be a 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏.

"What? You think I'm a money making machine here?"

Well, tbh he kinda is.

"You think money grows on trees?"

Well, technically, money is paper so...ya it kinda does.

"I don't slave around just so you could plunge yourself in all of your whims!"

Uh, actually.

You kinda do though if we refer back to your whole willingly-give-everything-to-you shtick.

So that wasn't real, huh?

ＡＬＬＭＥＮＤＯＩＳＬＩＥ.

smh

Taehyung, on the other hand...

Well, his mother’s old but rich sugar daddy just recently passed away and unfortunately all his money and prized possessions were inherited by his one and only beloved son.

All they got was a couple of stupid jewelry, which did allow them to pay for a new (less glamorous) apartment, but still

Eh.

What a complete disappointment.

11+ years of being a sugar baby, all for nothing.

So now it’s back to the slums for the both of them.

Sad reacs for a fallen warrior.

I’m talking about Tae’s mother, not the sugar daddy...

THOUGh rip for him. Uh,,,,

He’ll be missed? I guess???

(1 like of this post = 1 respect for him)

DW about his mother though. She doesn’t seem quite fazed by it.

“This is why if you find a rich old bastard, make sure he doesn’t have any kids. That or have an affair with their kid. Oh well, on to the next one.” She told you and Tae during the funeral.

It’s been three months since.

She’s currently working at a hair salon and also,,,,

Taehyung thinks she’s seeing someone again cause she’s been using her designated “𝑠𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔” parfum.

WHICH you still don’t know if you should be impressed or be concerned about.

Nonetheless, you respect the hustle of this woman. ✊✊✊✊

Unfortunately, her efforts are still not enough to satisfy their expensive needs so that brings us to the present situation.

Actually, it couldn’t have been more perfect though!

You and your best friend coincidentally just happen to be in the same dilemma.

Kind of

Well, not really

Plus, it’s not really the most pleasant circumstance bUT STILL

The point is, you’re in this together and that’s enough for the both of you.

:’)

“Ugh, this totally blows.” Taehyung says as you both sit on one of the food court booths.

“Which one, us not getting any jobs yet or the fact that we’re hanging at the food court?”

“Get used to it, princess. Honestly, you'll find that the food here isn't as disgusting as you think they are." He says as he fishes for his phone in his man purse.

"Well, at this rate, I won't be able to get used to it since I sTILL haven't found a job. Why are the good stores so demanding? Like, an intensive classroom and in-store training only to have a possibility to get hired??? To think that I'm a loyal Louie Button customer!"

(A/n: This is actually a real procedure for Louis Vuitton, at least in my own experience. But I only applied and never went through with the training cause I figured that it just ain't for me.)

You continue ranting your little heart out about how you could sue these stores for unfair treatment.

Taehyung, though, has long tuned you out and has pointed his full attention to his phone.

This is turning out to be a lot more disastrous than what he anticipated.

So he needs to phone a friend in.

Orrrrr a couple.

He's getting desperate, okay??

The entire spring collection was practically screaming out to him when they entered Kucci.

He's a 𝓚𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓲 𝓫𝓸𝔂 through and through.

He hasn't missed a single Kucci season collection in years.

IN YEARS, PEOPLE!

He can feel his right eye twitch at this blasphemy.

"I'm telling you! These stores are absolutely ungrateful-hEY! Are you even listening??"

"No. I thought that was obvious the second I whipped my phone out."

( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)

Rude

He didn't even try to deny it.

"You know, I really don't need you to be mean to me right now."

"Sorry y/n but this…" He lifts his phone up, "is more important right now."

What could possibly be more important than your current problem??

If you don't leave today with any form of productivity, you just might have to sell the entirety of your closet.

And we all know that ain't happening.

"By 'that', you mean?"

His phone vibrates a couple of times, indicating that he just received a bunch of messages.

He instantly opens them, disregarding you once again.

I-

Seriously, thIS bOy!

"Hello???? I'm still here and we're still hideously unemployed!"

He looks up to you with a smile that seems a tad bit too eerie.

Okay, this is somewhat alarming ngl.

"I called in some reinforcements."

Reinforcements... Huh?

What's that supposed to mean?

You stare at him with scrunched brows and mouth slightly agape.

And as if on cue, a male voice rings from behind you.

"Tae! We're here!"

"Jimin! Seokjin hyung!"

Ohhhhhhh

*Looks at the camera*

Them.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

For everyone's information, Taehyung grew up a hair away from the poverty line.

He was in his preteen years when their family found success through his mother's sugar daddy.

He didn't grow up rich whICH there's NOthing wrong WiTh THAT.

A person's financial status does not define them.

Taehyung's friends, however, already have a collective definition in your head.

One word

༼ つ ◕◡◕ ༽つ MESS™

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

A hot mess you are so not willing to become a part of.

Tae keeps them away from you because he knows that they are not the type of people you would associate yourself with.

Which is why you've never met any of them.

...Until today.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

Guess being besties with a broke Taehyung means it only makes sense that you finally meet them.

♫︎dUN dUn- ok that's enough of that.

"We got the Code 17 message. I can't believe I'll ever get that from you. This is history, man! We need to celebrate!" Someone says accompanied by what sounds like someone wiping a window.

You look at Taehyung with a very displeased look.

May god and every higher being out there give you strength.

He doesn't even look the slightest bit bothered by what might be one of the boldest crossovers to ever happen.

Also, "Code 17"??? Wth?

"What's wrong? You never ask to meet at the food court… And who's this with--oh." A different, softer voice talks this time.

"You guys remember my bestie, right? Y/n? Well, I think it's time you guys finally meet."

From behind you, Seokjin and Jimin share a slightly wary yet excited look.

Jimin, being the natural people lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to have another best friend.

From what he's heard from Taehyung, you two are slightly alike, being a total softie.

So don't be surprised if a montage of things like the two of you going on picnics at the mall garden or watching the premiere of the next Disney movie plays in his head.

Seokjin, on the other hand, being the woman lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to score big time.

He's heard a lot about you from Tae but the only thing that stuck (and pretty much the only thing that matters) is that you are HELLA rich.

$ ℂ𝕙𝕒��𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 $

So are we even surprised that what he imagines is him breezing through the luxury section of the mall, with his personal butlers in tow, and having everyone swoon at him?

“Y/n,” Taehyung gives you a pointed look as if telling you to be nice. “Meet Seokjin hyung and Jimin, two of my other best friends.”

Alright, you heard that these people work here at the mall.

So you’re gonna have to suck it up if it means being stuck with them for god knows how long.

You just hope they have some level of bearableness.

(Oh and some form of acceptable fashion taste too please, thank you very much!)

As much as you're not in the mood to smile, you still plaster on the sweetest one you can muster and turn around to face the two----

(o.O)

oh oh oh oh ho ho ho ho

Hello

hELLO indeed.

One of them has a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slim fit trousers, and a brown newsboy cap like a cherry on top.

He's also wearing a brown apron with a small name tag that says 𝓙𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷.

The other guy's more casual with his baby pink t-shirt, french tucked into his black ripped skinny jeans.

Personally, you wouldn’t really call them amazing outfits…

bUT SWEET BABY JESUS ARE THEY DOING THINGS.

GREAT THINGS

(Tbh maybe it’s their handsome faces that do it for you)

"Hi, I'm Jimin! It's very nice to finally meet you."

He extends his hand and you take it in a heartbeat because my god that smile.

Wooooooooooo

Now, that's what greets you into heaven.

"Tae says a lot of good things about you and I think- oof."

Cute pink shirt guy (rudely) shoves him to the side.

Jimin almost topples to the ground and it makes you want to stand and check up on him.

The poor cutie.

For some reason, you feel like Taehyung and pink shirt guy get along well.

"AND I'M Seokjin!"

This time, Seokjin swiftly takes your hand without any warning which leaves you feeling flustered.

“Umm… Nice to meet you..?” You manage to politely croak out.

He gives your hand a kiss and then drops you a sultry wink.

Thank god you're sitting right now.

You'd be a lying fool to say that that didn't make your knees weak.

But ngl, that’s a face that definitely greets you into hell.

Like, no offense to his handsome face but you are sure there’s something completely devious going on underneath.

No one can change your mind on that.

"OKAY! Enough introductions, we’ll have plenty of time for that later... Where are the others??”

“Hoseok hyung said that he's with Jungkook and they're on their way to get Namjoon hyung." Jimin says as he fixes his hat that slightly slid off.

"Well, they better hurry!"

Taehyung DEFINITELY did not have any reasons to cut your introductions off.

He just did not like how you are practically drooling over Jimin and Seokjin.

He’s nOT JEALOUS OR ANYTHING

It’s just...

It’s not like you’ve never been close to any hot guys before.

Uh hello???

HE’S HOT

And you’re with him 24/7

Wait…

Do you even think he’s hot???

Okay now that’s a thought he never considered before.

Damn bro

Now Tae’s having an existential crisis…

anD hE’s dEfiniTEly NOT jEALous!!!

ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

"WE'RE HERE!"

All four of you direct your heads to the sound of a new voice and you start to think that Taehyung might actually be playing a joke on you.

Come on!

THREE 👏 MORE 👏 HOT 👏 GUYS 👏

???

This can't be real.

This is literal heaven!

Gasp!

Are.

You.

DEAD?!

Maybe you're right about Jimin being what greets you into heaven!

It all makes sense.

“Dude, we came as soon as we could. We even pulled Namjoon out of his rabbit hole.” The handsome one wearing a sports jersey says.

“This better be important. I didn’t even get to ask permission to take a break! I’m supposed to be stocking utensils right now.” The handsome one wearing an atrocious outfit of a bright blue shirt and a much brighter yellow pants chimes in.

The handsome one wearing loose fitting jeans, a plaid button up and a black t-shirt underneath just stayed at the sidelines not saying anything.

Out of all of them, you think he’s the most stylish one.

Your eyes meet while you are assessing his outfit but he instantly looks away.

A noticeable blush blooms on his cheeks and you almost swoon.

Awww he’s extra cute.

“Yeah, cause organising cutlery is more important than a friend in a literal crisis.” Taehyung says in a sarcastic tone.

“So what are we doing here?”

“What is this ‘crisis’ you are referring to?”

“Yo, who is she?”

Namjoon, Jin, and handsome jersey boy all talk at the same time.

Ugh you need a massage.

Being surrounded by these broke handsome men is making you lightheaded.

“This is Y/n. You know, my other best friend.”

“Oh, your money buddy.” Handsome jersey boy butts in.

Uh EXCUSE YOU, WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

You scoff hard and loud.

Taehyung clears his throat and you thought he was going to make a comment defending you or something.

Oh honey, you are wrong.

Because for the nth time today, he just brushes you off.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyways, Guys, meet Y/n. Y/n, this is Hoseok hyung, Namjoon hyung, and Jungkook.”

You didn't think it'd be possible but for the first time ever, you so badly want to rip someone's hair out.

And not just someone, it's Taehyung.

Normally, a sassy, moody, rude boy Taehyung doesn’t affect you at all.

But then again, his negative vibes were never really directed to you.

And given the current circumstance, you’re also not in the best mood as well.

So you aren't as inviting as you usually are when you shook hands with the three boys.

Somehow, even their overflowing handsomeness did not do anything for you now.

Your presence, however, did something to the three boys.

AND I MEAN A LOT.

Confused, attracted, intimidated, confused, in awe, slightly scared, nervous, confused, hungry…

What? Hoseok hasn’t had lunch and coincidentally, he started feeling his tummy rumble when he looked at you.

…..

Fun fact: Hoseok is DEFINITELY NOT A CANNIBAL NOR HE EVER PLANS ON BEING ONE.

If ever you were thinking...

“Okay, so here’s the sitch.” Tae starts to explain your situation and everyone listens to him intently.

Little did you all know, the final member of the friend group just arrived at the food court and is now walking towards where you all are.

It wasn’t difficult to spot your group with Namjoon’s obnoxiously brightly coloured towering self and the few girls hanging around.

Probably Jimin’s fanclub.

“And so, here we are!” Tae finishes, keeping everyone updated.

"Wow, so you two are looking for an actual job? Like, here? At the mall??" A very baffled Seokjin asks.

Tae rolls his eyes.

"Yes. Is that really hard to believe?"

"Actually, yes. It is."

Another male voice is heard coming from someplace.

“Yoongi hyung!”

Oh great! Another one.

Surely, this guy’s not that interesting.

I mean, what are the fricking odds that he’s also an immaculate being??

You turn around and your mouth drops to the floor.

No no no no no.

No way!

Another freaking gOOD LOOKING GUY HAS WALKED UP TO YOUR GROUP.

Okay, this is getting unbelievable now.

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Like, where and how on earth did Taehyung manage to get and round up SIX insanely good looking guys??

What is this? Are you on The Bachelorette??

Wait no

It's like Oprah!

And instead of cars, she's giving away handsome men

You get a hot Asian man, you get a hot Asian man, you all get a hot Asian man!

OR MAYBE

Are you on MTV Punk'd?????

Statistically speaking, a hot guy can have two or maybe three equally hot best friends

BUT SIX???

ARE YOU KIDDING?

Is Taehyung like Thanos? Collecting the six infinity stones?

Thanos? lol.

If anything, he's more like Henry VIII with his six wives.

“So you guys didn’t even wait for me, huh?”

Yoongi, oh so casually, just takes a seat beside you

Without even giving you a single glance or whatnot.

“I didn’t know you'd be here at the mall today?”

“Yeah, what are you doing here?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “It’s a free country, I can be here whenever I want to be.”

Well, can’t argue with that logic.

The mall is practically your second home at this point.

“... Also… uTunes is hiring and uh… I’m applying...”

You don’t understand why but everyone else looks either shocked or annoyed at Yoongi’s announcement...

Are you missing something here?

“Man, you need to give it up! That place can suck it.”

Yoongi gives Seokjin one of the scariest glare you’ve ever seen.

It could rival against your dad’s famous death glares that he gives to his incompetent subordinates.

Namjoon shakes his head disapprovingly, “You’re applying there again?? I can’t believe it.”

Yes, again.

This is going to be the seventh time he’s applying at uTunes Records, the most popular music shop there is.

So many people flock to it even though we’re already in the digital age.

But he doesn’t question it.

All he cares about is getting a job there because the employees get to play their own music in the store.

Do you know how much of a popularity boost that is?

A CRAP TON.

On top of that, one of the employees gets a chance to get signed by a record label every year.

And if you're not awarded by that chance, you can still meet agents and get signed through their many parties.

Because of that, so many people also apply for a job there.

But they unfortunately have such high standards which is why even after three years, he still hasn’t passed their vibe check.

"Listen, seven's a lucky number. I have great feelings about this one. Besides, I've built up a strong résumé. Winning one of uTunes' own rookie dj contests must mean something, right? They can't not take me!"

Wow.

You've only known Yoongi for a solid three minutes, but you can already tell that he's quite passionate about this.

"Hyung, all we're saying is that maybe you should consider doing something else? You could do so much more than run after that store." Jimin says and pats Yoongi's hand a couple of times.

"All of you perfectly know getting a job there could quite possibly set my music career!"

"Is that really it? Or is it because of a certain Daphne??" Seokjin teases him.

The rest just mutters an "ooh" or an "aah".

You seem to have been turned into an accessory.

You so cannot relate to anything they've talked about since Yoongi came.

It's like you're at one of your dad's social gatherings and all you can do is smile and nod.

"ANYWAY," Yoongi interjects in their teasing. "So Tae, you're also looking for a job?"

Jeez FINALLY.

Something you can talk about that involves you.

It felt like you were just back home watching some random show that doesn't require your input.

Taehyung gives an overly dramatic heavy sigh.

"Unfortunately, yes. Y/n and I both need one badly. But all the stores had been rejecting us left and right. Like, the audacity!" Taehyung rants all over again.

Jimin, listens to him intently as if he hasn't heard all of this before.

Seokjin seems to have been entertaining the surrounding ladies for a while now.

[by giving some ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ and some (•̀ᴗ-)☞ ]

Across the table, Namjoon complains to Hoseok about getting in trouble with his boss.

Jungkook, well, he's just staring at the beautiful pizza this kid next to you guys is eating. (Someone's hungry too, okay?)

While Yoongi just openly stares at you.

Welp.

What the frick are you supposed to do now?

Is Taehyung or anyone going to properly introduce you two?

No???

Okay fine.

Seems like you're gonna have to get used to doing things on your own.

You smile at him and timidly hold your hand out.

"Uh hi. I'm Y/n. I don't know if Tae's ever mentioned me to you before but--"

"Oh, trust me. He's mentioned you plenty. He actually never shuts up about you."

ʰᵉʰ

You don't really know if he was stating that as a fact or if he's trying to be mean…

"Oh ha ha… That must be really annoying then."

"Yeah, it is actually."

Your small polite chuckle died down your throat.

Wow and you thought Taehyung can be rude.

hE'S STILL JUST STARING.

"Uh…" You finally lowered your hand that he obviously isn't going to shake.

That is definitely going in your top 10 most embarrassing moments ever.

God, can someone get you away from this guy?

What's his problem?

"SO, can any one of you help us? Like, any tips or something?" Tae concludes his really long and repetitive rant.

Everyone's eyes FINALLY focuses on Tae again.

Seokjin snorts loudly.

Eww.

He opens his mouth to say something but Tae immediately holds his hand up to stop him.

"Anyone except you hyung. I don't think you're classified."

Everyone laughs to that and again,

ARE YOU MISSING OUT ON SOMETHING HERE?

Seokjin raises one finger like he's trying to make a point. "If anyone is classified to give tips on how to get accepted, it's me!"

"Yeah, just not on how to last on one." Namjoon loudly whispers to Tae.

"HEY I HEARD THAT!"

Ohhh….

So,

Does he constantly get fired from a job?

Well, that's just sad.

Hopefully you don't end up like him.

😳

"Actually," Hoseok starts, "how do you end up landing on so many jobs? Like, don't they know your reputation?"

And that's your cue to finally insert yourself in the conversation.

"Uh, what reputation?"

"Sweetheart, you don't really want to know! It's not that big of a deal." Seokjin quickly steers you away from the topic but the other guys didn't allow it to happen.

"Oh, you know. Just that, he's known to be the "job eater" here. Cause he pretty much eats a job and moves on from it in a flash." Namjoon graciously fills you in.

So you were right.

That's kind of impressive though…

But a huge waste.

"Still! It makes me very much qualified to give the unemployed a tip!"

"Save it hyung, you might need it for your next job once you get fired from Uncle Aang's."

Seokjin gives everyone a sheepish smile.

What's that about?

It almost looks as if he…

"YOU GOT FIRED ALREADY?!"

"Oh you bet I did."

To be fair, how could he not stop himself from eating the free samples? Those pretzels are literal drugs.

"You just got that job four days ago. I can't believe it!"

"I can believe it." Yoongi says out loud.

Can't he say anything nice?

"Whatever! Point is, these stores still hire me no matter what."

"You know what, that is a good point." Taehyung mutters, slowly turning convinced by Seokjin.

Namjoon groans. "Are you for real Tae? If you want some job advice, maybe ask one from us who has only had one permanent job all throughout."

"Guys, let's give Seokjin hyung a chance!" Jimin, ever the sweet positive boy, suggests.

"Of course you would say that."

Not wanting to fade into nothingness, you insert yourself again in the conversation.

"I want to hear what he has to say."

Once those words left your mouth, you instantly regret it.

A.) Seokjin gives you another wink and gives you a flying kiss that has you weak in the knees again- I MEAN WHAT. I SAID NOTHING.

And B.) Yoongi is clearly not a fan of you sharing your opinions with the group.

Despite the obvious protests of Namjoon, Seokjin still gives his number one "professional" advice

And that is to have a perfectly 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 résumé.

"A high quality résumé? YOU? What the fuck are you talking about?" Yoongi says, slightly amused and slightly tired of the older guy's shenanigans.

"Don't believe me? Fine. But I'm telling you, it's all here on paper!" Seokjin takes out a folder from his backpack and waves it around.

Namjoon immediately snatches it from him

"5 pages long?? Are you for real?”

Seokjin hums and watches smugly with a cocky grin as the guys read through his résumé.

“Hang on, since when did you do balloon modelling?”

"I don't."

Hoseok gasps. "But bro, isn't that lying?"

"Yeah, duh! How else are these people gonna hire you? You have to sell them what they're looking for."

"What if they ask you to use these skills that you clearly don't have?"

"Then you're just gonna have to fake it till you make it, baby!"

Huh

No wonder he doesn't last long on a single job.

"And how's that working out for you?" Yoongi presses on.

"Well at least I get hired, Mr. 7th Time's the Charm!"

Yoongi is like ᶠⁱᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵇⁱᵗᶜʰ (ง'̀-'́)ง

"That's not really the point of having a job, but I guess, whatever floats your boat, dude!" Hoseok finally sides with Seokjin.

"So everyone is looking for a job then?" Taehyung realizes, "this is so cool if all of us get hired! We'll all face the real world together."

"All of us except Jungkook though."

Who?

Oh that extra cute shy boy.

You forgot he's here.

Boy really hasn't said a word at all.

"Did ya hear that? All of us are getting jobs!"

"You should get one too!"

"That would be so cool!"

"So what do you say? What are your plans Kook?"

"Guys, don't pressure the kid!"

The guys talk simultaneously, ultimately kind of pressuring Jungkook to say something before he even thinks about it.

The table falls silent and everyone eyes Jungkook.

The guys are like ( ･ิ ͜ʖ ･ิ) and ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)

Jungkook is like (ʘ ͟ʖ ʘ)

Then the guys are like (≖ ͜ʖ≖)

So jungkook is like (¬‿¬ )

In the end, they are all like

(☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)

And through it all, you are just ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

What the heck is going on?

"Yeah, why not?" Jungkook simply concludes and the guys make various celebrating noises.

Gasp!

He can talk???

"Okay, everyone calm down! Let's wait until after everyone gets hired before we celebrate." Namjoon scolds everyone.

"Well that might take a while considering Y/n and I can't find one!"

Namjoon places a comforting hand on Tae's shoulder. "Oh relax, there's like ten thousand stores in the mall!"

"Actually, there are only 613 stores in the entire mall." Hoseok points out a matter of factly.

You all look at him dumbfoundedly.

Aaaand he just stares back at all of you.

Is this some kind of trivia that you need to know if you work around here?

Are you gonna have to memorise a lot of facts about the mall???

Oh, you don't like that.

Seokjin was the first one to react.

"Dude?? What the hell?!"

"I got bored once while I was on a break and counted."

Huh.

Makes sense.

Yeah, sure.

Why not?

Why wouldn't you just go and count the total number of stores out of boredom???

…

THAT WAS A SARCASTIC REMARK IF YOU DIDN'T GET IT.

"Even if there are 600 stores here, there are only like, 20 good stores that exist!" Tae remarks

You want to say you can't agree more but you stop yourself because you don't think you can handle another cold stare from Yoongi.

"Are you perhaps pertaining to the high end stores?" Namjoon muses.

"Yeah. What else?"

Jimin's eyes widen in shock. "Hold on. So you two have only been looking at that small section of the entire mall?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Yoongi chuckles condescendingly.

"Bros, you know that saying… 'Beggars can't be choosers'?" Hoseok tries to enlighten you two.

You and Tae look at each other.

What an epiphany.

A very disgusting yet important epiphany.

"Are you… Are you guys saying that… We need to find a job… Outside of that section??"

They all nod.

Ughhhhhhh

You and Tae make an annoyed sound.

"Welcome to the real world, peasants!" Seokjin warmly tells you.

Could things get any worse?

"Hey, at least we'll all be here together!"

Ha ha

Great . Awesome. Wow.

"Well, on that note, I really need to get back to work. Lady and gentlemen, may the odds be ever in your favour. Good luck!"

Namjoon stands and walks away.

One by one, the other working guys went back to work as well, leaving you unemployed slackers.

Hey they didn't even give any actual help!

Wasn't that the reason why Tae called for a… What did they call it?

Code something something.

Oh whatever!

Anyways,

So to summarize things

You might end up working at an awful low end store.

And you're unwillingly stuck with the wrong set of people.

One of them is a total flirt and an actual pain to society.

Another one might possibly hate you for unknown reasons.

This tall dude seems to be really uptight.

Then there's this guy that seems really weird.

The other one, well… He's cute and doesn't really have any negative points yet BUT you're sure something's wrong with him.

And the last one literally said one thing during the entire time!

Oh, you've got a really really long way before you can pay your dad.

Good luck to you, indeed.

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pinky-the-elephant-room · 4 years

Text

Rejuvenate

AN: @liliesoftherain @keishiins I’m reuploading this because Tumblr hates my guts. I got the idea from Ronda Rousey stating before her matches she would have intense sex with her husband. I was intrigued with the idea and wondered how many athletes do the same thing? Anyway enjoy this request

❉ Warnings: Praise Kink, Sub Bokuto, Bondage, and little bit of Breeding kink at the end? Bokuto x Fem Reader.

❉ Disclaimer: Sex is not a cure for mental illness. Since we don’t know why Bokuto has mood swings I played around with the idea. Please don’t take this seriously.

❉ Summary: As part of the Jackals, Bokuto no longer had the luxury of messing about in this matches. But little did his teammates know he had someone special picking up the slack at home.

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

t’s not until you lose something that you start appreciating it for what it was. For Bokuto, it was his team, and more specifically, it was his setter Akaashi. He never realized how bothersome his mood swings were because he was too busy dwelling on his emotions. But when he started playing professionally, Bokuto no longer had the luxury of his teammates looking after him anymore. Technically, Tsum Tsum did his best (best meaning he just ignored him until Bokuto’s mood settled), but he was unsatisfied. He was starting to hate that the tiniest things would unsettle him and affect his play.

He tried everything from calming teas and even listening to rain ASMR before falling asleep. But his mood swings kept happening. Bokuto was at the end of his rope so much so he decided to visit Akaashi at his college. He had sent him a text letting him know he would drop by; hopefully, his old teammate would have something for him.

The university itself was pretty large and was known to attract international students from across the globe. Even now, Bokuto could see several foreigners staring at him in curiosity, but he just shrugged it off, thinking it was his eccentric hair (but really, it was his frantic pacing).

His face brightened when he saw his friend leisurely walking towards him.

“Bokuto-san, how have you been?” Akaashi inquired.

“Akaashi! Your school is so cool! I should come here more often,” Bokuto said while excitingly looking left to right.

“Please don’t,” murmured Akaashi, who was promptly ignored by Bokuto.

“Keiji! I thought I told you to wait for me,” a feminine voice called out.

Bokuto turned around to see a girl with a womanly figure walking towards them.

“Gomen, Y/N. I thought you already went back to class,” Akaashi replied to the girl.

Bokuto looked at her fascinatingly. She was beautiful, to be frank, and her beaming smile radiated happiness.

“Oh, who’s this?” she asked, looking at Bokuto directly, making him more nervous than he had felt in a while.

Akaashi turned to Bokuto only to narrow his eyes at his smitten face.

“This is Bokuto Koutaro. He was the captain of the volleyball team I was on in high school.”

She let out an excited gasp. “The Bokuto? The one you comp-“

“Anyway, this is Akaashi Y/N. She’s my cousin,” Akaashi cut in, confusing Bokuto.

Y/N sent a teasing smile to Akaashi.

“Our mothers are identical twins, and we were born in the same year. So, we’re more like siblings than anything. I should be calling him Keiji-ni, actually. It’s nice to meet you, Bokuto-san!”

Cousins? Now that she was closer, he could see the resemblance. They had the same dark hair and bright blue sharp eyes. But Y/N’s hair was longer coming down to her waist, and her eyebrows were neatly trimmed, unlike Akashi's. She also had the pinkest pair of lips Bokuto ever had the pleasure of seeing, or was that makeup? To be honest, he could never tell.

“What do you think, Bokuto-san?” Y/N asked him hopefully.

She had asked him a question which Bokuto wasn’t even listening to. Too busy staring at her animated face the entire time.

“Not today, Y/N. Maybe some other time. Go to class,” Akaashi said, almost sternly.

She pouted and said, “Fine! I’ll see you later, Bokuto-san.”

Y/N bowed politely, to which Bokuto scrambled to return before she walked away.

Akaashi muttered, “Don’t even think about it. She’ll eat you alive.”

His yellow eyes still on the retreating figure of Y/N, Bokuto distractedly replied, “what do you mean by that?”

His former teammate opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind.

“Do what you like, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Bokuto should have listened to the almost ominous warning by his friend, but he was too excited.

“You mean it?! Can you give me Y/N’s number then?”

Akaashi grimaced; nevertheless, he fetched his phone before complying with his former captain’s request. The two friends talked for a while before Akaashi had to leave for his class. By the time Bokuto had arrived at his lonesome apartment, he had realized he had forgotten to ask Akaashi for the advice he initially sought out him for.

Still, he considered the day to be productive and successful while staring goofily at Y/N’s number.

Over the next couple of weeks, Y/N and Bokuto exchanged texts. When he had first texted her, she was cordial and pleasant. As his interest became fairly apparent over time, Y/N responded to it with the utmost enthusiasm. Thankfully, Akaashi didn’t seem too opposed to it; instead, he made Bokuto promise to treat his cousin well. They had been dating for only a month when she asked him to take it a bit further. He honestly thought she was a virgin and was quite speechless at her question. Y/N was a petite and genial individual; in fact, Bokuto often worried that he would eventually drive her away with his boisterous attitude. And so, he was adamant about taking it slowly with Y/N. Only for her to flip the script and proposition him.

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

“Did you have fun?” he asked earnestly after another date,

“Of course! Next weekend I'm free, so we should go out again,” Y/N replied cheerfully, swinging their interlocked hands.

Bokuto watched her closely and leaned in for a kiss.

She didn’t back down and instead tugged him closer. Their lips connected just barely before she moved back, but it was enough to entice him.

“Bokuto-kun, do you wanna come in? My roommate’s with her family for the weekend,” Y/N proposed.

He swallowed nervously and nodded. Her dorm was a standard two-room affair but standing in there, Bokuto felt such dread and excitement in the pit of his stomach.

Y/N took her time while removing her hoody before, with a teasing smile, she tried to help remove his jacket.

“You’ll get hot if you keep this on,” she cooed while pulling down his zipper.

Bokuto’s heart started racing out of control when he felt her small hands unashamedly caress his toned upper body in the guise of removing his jacket.

He distinctly heard something hitting the wooden floor but was way too preoccupied with helping Y/N unbuckle his belt to notice.

That night Bokuto was never so glad in his life to be wrong. She was no virgin. The way she roughly yanked his hair and demanded him to be faster and harder. It was hard to imagine Y/N not having prior experience. Despite him clearly being on top, it felt like she oversaw the entire affair. The praises that spilled from her mouth each time a particular thrust compelled her to see stars caused him to feel like he just scored a winning point in the finals. Her sleek legs that wrapped around him prompted him to renew his smooth but rough rhythm. Y/N eventually kept having to rewrap her legs each time he pulled out before she gave up and just splayed her legs to the side. That made it easier for him to reenter but strained Y/N’s muscles. She didn’t seem to care too much, though, as her nails embedded into his back. Bokuto lost count after her sixth orgasm and his fourth. The night continued into the early dawn. He barely slept, yet he found himself not caring after possibly having the best sex of his life.

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

Bokuto felt at ease as the whistle blew and signaled the end of the match. The Jackals bowed to their devoted fans, and he could feel his teammates’ eyes on him subconsciously. Tsum Tsum was whispering lowly to Sakusa, who didn’t seem to be paying too much attention to whatever Tsum Tsum was saying. Even Hinata seemed subdued despite them winning the game. But Bokuto wasn’t bothered; he was satisfied. Y/N was out there in the bleachers waiting for him. Now that he won, she owed him a night of relaxation and back massages.

Even in the locker room, it was hushed, and only the bangs of the lockers resonated in the quiet.

Bokuto turned around when he felt someone tug at his uniform.

“Oh, Hinata! Good game, and that smash at the end was great. But you still have a long way to go before you can catch up to your teacher,” Bokuto loudly complimented while slapping Hinata’s back harshly.

“Ne, Bokuto-san, can I ask you something?” Hinata nervously inquired as he rubbed his back.

Bokuto looked at the younger boy and realized he was acting weird. Hell, he could tell all his teammates were listening to their conversation inconspicuously.

So, he just shrugged and motioned Hinata to go ahead.

“How come you’re so focused nowadays?”

Bokuto could almost hear the underlying question, ‘why haven’t you turned into emo Bokuto lately?’

Tsum Tsum, who had a towel in hand on route to shower, stopped to listen in. Even Sakusa, with his wet hair, stood by and didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave.

“Well, Hinata...” Bokuto began as his thoughts drifted back to last night.

They stumbled blindly through his dark apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights. Y/N let out a shriek of delight when Bokuto hoisted her into his arms and went straight to his bedroom.

He pushed back her hair and sucked wherever her neck was visible.

“Y/N, babe, want you right now. No. I need you,” Bokuto corrected amid his trailing kisses.

She grabbed the back of his dyed hair and pulled.

“On the bed then. I’ll grab my goodies,” Y/N encouraged.

He cocked his head in confusion at the mention of goodies but tugged off his shirt and shorts in a hurry. Bokuto tossed his clothes somewhere at the side of the bed, where he could find them easily in the morning before making himself comfortable on his bed. He could hear her fiddling in his bathroom but waited patiently. Y/N always rewarded him whenever he did precisely what she asked of him.

She stepped out of the bathroom, hiding something behind her back.

“Oh, did you start the party early?” she asked, eyeing his naked body with amusement and hunger.

“Yeah, but I’d rather you take off your clothes and join me,” Bokuto replied as he pointedly stared down at her white wrap dress.

“One sec. Let me show you my present.”

Y/N presented him with two pairs of silver handcuffs.

Bokuto tried to play it off coolly, but he didn’t think he managed as her cheeky grin widened at his flustered composure.

Y/N got on his bed and ordered, “Sit back. I want to see how good it looks on you.”

She didn’t even need to say please as he hurried to do what she asked. Placing a quick kiss on his forehead, she managed to get both his hands cuffed and attached to the bed frame separately.

“Now, the real fun begins. Do you trust me?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Bokuto joked.

While sliding down his body to make herself comfortable, she pushed his chest back down.

His soft member laid against his thighs. Which he supposed that Y/N wasn’t satisfied with because she immediately went to work.

Y/N started by placing her hands on his firm thighs to which in turn made Bokuto jolt. But settled down at the soothing touch of her slender hands. Slowly but surely, she started to blow on his member. Feeling her hot breath, he shivered and clutched the bed sheets. It seemed like Y/N was in a playful mood, and that usually meant Bokuto was in for a long night.

That grip only got tauter when she started doing eskimo kisses to his cock.

Bokuto let out a low “fuck” when he felt tentative kitten licks while she traced the throbbing, purple veins along his shaft.

Y/N pulled back his foreskin to reveal the head. She rubbed the tip spreading the watery precum before sucking. She reveled in the familiar intoxicating taste and then swallowed him whole until his cock hit the back of her throat. Feeling the need to gag, Y/N took his member out of her mouth.

“Ko-kun, you taste so good. Maybe I should keep this up all night?”

“No, don’t,” he gasped.

Bokuto let out a groan when he tried to pull Y/N’s hair to make her take him deeper. But the handcuffs prevented him from doing so.

She let go of his cock entirely and shimmed out of her dress. Her bra and panties were next to go, and Bokuto’s eyes never strayed from the moment she started getting undressed. Y/N made herself comfortable and settled on top of his right thigh.

He felt his thigh’s muscle flex instinctively when he felt the soft lips and coarse trimmed hairs of her cunt. She already complimented him multiple times on how much she appreciated his physique. But she was paying extra attention to his bottom half tonight, apparently.

Unfortunately, his situation only got worse with her grinding against his thigh.

“Please, babe. I- I can’t wait,” he stuttered, which was an accomplishment of itself.

Y/N only laughed and said, “Come on, Ko-kun. You can do better than that. Remember last time how you begged so nicely? You can do it again.”

Bokuto imagined her swollen clit sliding along his bare skin. Which, he wasn’t wrong about because each time her center dragged against his leg, it wasn’t hard to notice the wetness she left behind.

“Ko-kun, should I just get myself off like this and leave you handcuffed until the morning?” Y/N asked wickedly.

“Don’t you dare-,” he started but let out a yelp when she pinched his inner thigh.

“Don’t be rude! I was just kidding, but I might do it for real,” she warned as she aggressively humped his thigh.

“F-fuck! Fuck!”

Oh god, he definitely felt the fluid dripping down from her cunt now. Bokuto could even hear the wet squelching sounds as she slid back and forth.

“Ko-kun, I wanna ride your face,” Y/N panted.

Bokuto’s eyes lit up, and he replied, “Are you going to uncuff me?”

“Nah, I think you’ll do fine just like this.” She didn’t say anything more as she leisurely crawled up his body.

Usually, he would have held onto her thighs while she sat on his face. But now, he could not do much once he caught a whiff of Y/N’s distinct scent. When her pussy was near enough, he licked the puffy clit that stood out so readily. Perhaps that was all the encouragement she needed because soon Y/N was aggressively shoving herself into his face.

“That’s it. Lick it all up. Don’t let a single drop go to waste,” she cried out while simultaneously pulling his hair.

He could barely breathe from her cushy thighs and the way her hands purposely kept him in one place. But god Bokuto loved it whenever she got like this. He could tell from her unsteady movement and the heavy breathing, Y/N was close. Laying his tongue flat, he licked from top to bottom and finally inserting the tongue inside her cunt. She lost her mind, convulsing uncontrollably.

“Fuck me! I-I’m going to cum.”

Y/N started enthusiastically grinding, and suddenly, an outpour of watery fluid started running down his cheeks. Her soft moans escalated to piercing screams before yielding to the spellbinding ecstasy. Bokuto helped her ride it out by slowly sucking on her clit.

“Ko-kun, stop... Too much,” Y/N whimpered, pushing his face away from her overwhelmed pussy.

She scooted back a few inches and collapsed on top of his chest, trying to recuperate from her intense orgasm.

“Y/N, how did I do? Tell me.”

“Yeah, you were amazing. You were such a good boy.”

He felt lighthearted and incredible despite his erection still being prominent to the point of almost being painful.

Bokuto attempted to turn Y/N on her side so he could enter from that angle, but the handcuffs once again stopped him. He turned wide-eyed, totally forgetting about the cuffs attached to the headboard.

“Y/N help me out here,” he asked, kissing her sweaty hair.

She snapped out of her exhaustion to grab a pair of small keys on the nightstand. Y/N soon freed his hands, and he noticed his wrists were red from the metal straining against his skin.

Bokuto positioned Y/N in such a way that she lay on her side but was facing him. Her bangs were damp with sweat and stuck to her forehead. Still, she was visibly glowing, just like she always does after their sessions.

“My turn, ok?” he murmured, leaving love bites on her humid neck.

Sliding one leg in between her legs, he then encouraged Y/N to encircle his hip over the leg he just slid in.

Now Bokuto could easily clutch her firm butt while kissing her lips. With an erection that was now beginning to purple, he decided he had waited enough. With one swift nudge, her sopping entrance gave away to his cock.

“So good. I—” she stuttered as he hammered away. “Yes. So good.”

Y/N tucked her face away in his neck.

“You’re doing amazing. Keep going just like that, babe.”

His breath hitched at the ongoing praises, Bokuto’s skin becoming more heated by the second. His heartbeat racing out of control and tingles resonating down his back.

“I’m close. Gonna cum,” he groaned.

With a sensation that started at the base of his length before it coursed throughout his entire cock, the closer he got. Then as Bokuto got to the point of no return, he could no longer contain the inevitable release. He couldn’t control himself as his eyes shut and his body started shaking. He almost wished he could recount the entire experience, but Bokuto himself had blacked out right after he spilled inside of her.

He later would open his eyes to his body still on the side and entangled with Y/N. The deep-seated satisfaction from knowing he ejaculated inside of her left him bone-tired but rejuvenated at the same time. In no way were they ready for a pregnancy but god damn it if the thought didn’t leave him content beyond comprehension.

Bokuto snapped out of his flashback to Hinata, still looking at him expectantly.

And with a smirk that was uncharacteristic of him, Bokuto said, “Let’s just say I have a girlfriend who’s been taking real good care of me before each game.”

#bokuto x reader #hq x you #hq imagines #hq reader insert #hq requests #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyu x reader #haikyu x you #haikyu x y/n #bokuto kotarou #bokuto kotaro #bokuto x you #bokuto x y/n #haikyu fanfiction #haikyu fanfic

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kylo-wrecked · 3 days

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ledger:

~14 drafts @ kylo-wrecked / ~3 @ rensect

8 asks @ kylo-wrecked / 0 @ rensect

thread tracker:

for my eyes only until further notice.

hi new & old frens & everyone:

leaving for thailand in less than a week. generally busy. responses will come as they come. if you want to drop something, totally fine. just let me know. if there's a post/meme you think i missed, let me know. if you're new here, or we've started something new, or i said i'd come to you with ideas over a week ago (lolol), there'll be a wait.

rules / interest check / faqs

#ooc #housekeeping #rp update #rl update #{life and off-tumblr affairs make their demands part ?/?}#{if we don't let each other know; it doesn't happen babe}

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thelovelyghostwriter · 3 years

Text

KuraNeon Short Fic

Okay, this is one of my longer tumblr short fics, it’s 1000+ words.

Rated M because of lemon. Pairing: Kurapika/Neon

This is not the full length of the fic, the full version will be completed and posted on AO3 when I have the time.

Before anyone starts complaining about their age, Kurapika and Neon are born in the same year. In the current arc, Kurapika is technically 19 years old. I have had people complain about Neon being underaged (people deadass think she’s 12 to 16 tf), but then they go ahead and sexualise Kurapika because “he is an adult because he’s 19”. You can check it here.

Anyway, it’s fiction. Don’t take it seriously. I will just block anyone who tries to start a drama over drawings and fanfics.

Warning: sexual content, hate-sex, angry sex, angst, mentions of daddy issues

Here we go:

Kurapika wanted to stop this... Whatever they were doing. Yet his reasoning flies out of the window whenever he sees Neon in a flattering night attire.

Here he was, shirtless, with the woman sitting on his lap. Her spaghetti-strapped blouse was pushed down, her breasts exposed to him.

"I told you not to tempt me," he said. He licked her nipple and bit it lightly. Neon let out a small groan.

Kurapika had attempted to tell her that this dirty affair they had was inappropriate and unbecoming of them. Yet, for the past week, Neon had been giving him subtle flirtations and wearing clothes that showed off her skin (as compared to the baggy ones she normally wears).

The last straw was her talking about his Scarlet Eyes... while fondling the chains on his hand.

No.

That had to stop. For one, she was teasing him. Secondly, she recently found out about his Kurta identity - she was pissing him off on purpose to get "punished".

That woman should know her place, objectifying his clan's eyes like that.

He placed small kisses on her neck, then back again to her breasts. She shivered - it felt good.

"Are you happy now? You spoiled girl," he muttered against her breath sternly. She yelped when he slapped her ass.

Huh? That's weird.

His hands got underneath her skirt. Fuck. This girl wasn't even wearing a pair of underwear. She really wanted to get hate-fucked. By him. Again.

His fingers found her sex, all dripping in her arousal for him.

"So good," she mewled. She quivered under his touch.

Of course, she was satisfied, but never happy. There was a difference.

He inserted another finger.

Neon had always been like him - an empty vessel. Perhaps, even lonelier than him.

"M-more!" she moaned, demanding to be satisfied.

"Always wanting to be pampered," he huffed. What a greedy girl.

A father who exploited her fortune-telling, for fame and power; in exchange, he'd buy her all the things she wanted. The endless indulgence of material goods that she filled her heart with, yet it can never be full.

Ever since the Lovely Ghostwriter was stolen from her, the one thing that made her useful to her father... It was gone.

"You can never be satisfied, Neon," he said.

"Yet, you still do this with me," she countered, playing with his blond hair. She gripped Kurapika's hair and looked at his now-reddened eyes. Those eyes were beautiful... that held so much wrath and danger.

She had loved them when they were on a set of casing...but to see them on a deranged man when he takes her... it was... strangely exciting.

Kurapika said nothing, only kissing her in response.

Shut the hell up - he thought. He didn't like when she played mind games while they were doing this.

The kiss tasted sweet - so much turmoil in him, that he wished that a kiss could wash it all away. Wash away all his painful memories.

She snaked her hand into his pants. He hissed at the contact. Fuck. He needed this.

She giggled at his reaction, seemingly pleased, but her eyes said otherwise. Her father no longer paid attention to her, and it was obvious that she was trying to replace this by letting her head bodyguard (who was the same age as her) fill her.

She inserted his penis into her, squealing. God, Kurapika disliked her high-pitched voice whenever she complained. Yet, the noise that she makes during sex was what rubbed his ego - pleading, squealing, mewling, moaning as he rammed into her.

He halted for a moment, to lay her back against the bed. Then slammed himself again. Neon screamed, then covered her mouth alarmingly. He was enraged, she could tell. She really got onto his nerves, with her callous comment.

That disgusting hobby of hers. Collecting dead body parts that reflected her lack of sympathy towards the dead. Again, to fill that empty husk of her beautiful body. To treat people like objects because people see her as a predictive tool. A mere object.

She was her father's cash cow, the mafioso's crystal ball, another name in Chrollo's book and now, Kurapika's personal sex doll.

He removed her mouth. He wanted to hear her. She bit her lip, attempting to be quiet as possible.

He knew this. He wrapped her arms around her lower back, giving a new angle to ride her further. She yelped, in both surprise and ecstasy.

"Slow... Down..." she pleaded, her fingernails digged his shoulders. He said nothing.

"Papa... Papa might - ah!- hear us," she reasoned to him.

But he did not listen.

"I think - ah fuck!- he already... He knows," he said.

It was an open secret around the Nostrade mansion. It was not far-fetched for the young pair, who were equally lonely, to get caught into some odd agreement. She did expect her father to have some sort of reaction, though?

Neon's eyes watered slightly. Whether it was due to her being upset with her father's nonchalance, or Kurapika's roughness - Kurapika was unsure.

Kurapika did help Light recover from their financial slump by redirecting their mafioso business into something else. Perhaps it was some sort of sick reward Kurapika has earned when he chose to help them.

He brushed away the mascara-stained tears from her face. "Stop crying," he commanded, and gave a deep thrust that caused her to yell.

He did know she was going through a tough issue. But it can never be compared to him, his loss. The eyes of his clan gouged out just for people like her to enjoy them as displays. He should be the one crying, but there were no more tears left for him to shed.

He then remembered her hobby - why he was here in the first place. He began to incorporate his resentful energy into the form of pulsating desire, pounding into her mercilessly.

"Give it to me..." she begged, holding him tightly while her toes curled.

Her whole body started to shake.

So close...

Just a little more...

Then he stopped.

Neon immediately glared at him. It was one of his punishments again. To give her all the pleasures into a peak then abruptly crashing it into such a non-climatic disaster.

He laid on her side, brushing her messy hair off her face. They were both sticky, perspiring from their intimacy.

"Don't cry," he comforted and kissed her forehead.

Or I will give you something real to cry about, flesh collector.

She nodded. "Good girl," he said. He stood up.

He gripped her thighs, dragging her until her lower body was out of the bed. "Turn around," he commanded, and she obeyed him.

"Wait..." she protested, looking back slightly, "I want to see your eyes while you-" He gripped her hair. The audacity of this girl to still treat his eyes like a commodity... but in her eyes, he is the same. Another man in her life that sees her as an instrument.

"No. Not tonight, Neon. Look in front," he instructed.

If I catch you looking back, you're going to get it - he thought while he inserted his dick inside her again.

"I- ah!" she heaved, "I - hah - hate you..."

She managed to blurt out. He frowned. He didn't like that, be it she truly meant it or it was out of not getting what she wanted.

Because he couldn't resent her. He disliked her attitude, sheltered personality, her hobby... and worst of all, how she makes him desire her.

But it was never hatred. That was a feeling meant for the Phantom Troupe. She wasn't special enough for that.

He found her clitoris and rubbed it, all swollen and wet from arousal.

He noticed how she opened her legs slightly further to give him better access. Such hatred, huh.

"Yet... You're here," he replied. All he got was a repetition of her breathless curses and whimpers.

“Just… mmph! Turn me around…” she mumbled in the midst of the coitus.

“No-”

“P-please?”

No response. He only did her harder.

“I’ll… do anything,” she said. She looked back, rebelling against his rule. She kissed him before he could scold her. Neon stared at the glowing eyes, completely bewitched by them.

“Anything?” he questioned, and he withdrew himself out of her.

“Yes, daddy, anything-”

She pouted for an added-effect. She knew that was one of his weaknesses. Kurapika sighed.

“Okay-”

It was going to be a long night: he wasn’t done with her yet.

[A/N: I did not proofread this, so pardon the grammatical errors]

#kuraneon #kuraneo #kuraneon fic #kuraneo fic #kurapika x neon #kurapikaxneon #kurapika and neon #kurapika is drowning #kurapika is drowning in an indescribable emptiness #neon nostrade #kurapika

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bizlawgal · 4 years

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I wanted to share a prompt! Hope is ok ❤️: Emma is norman's bodyguard. And he's so cute 😳. But she has to focus because she's a professional 😎. But he's so sweet and treats her like she was a princess! But he's also super important and she needs to give the 100% to protect him. But the way he calls her, it's just... Would be people surprised if she falls for him? What would people think if she tries to take him for her 🤭😏.

This took a while.

Here’s Lyn’s first contribution to the N/E tag for 2021 on Tumblr.

I personally enjoyed writing this because it’s so angsty, but it’s a dessert with a cherry on top for an ending.

I. There was no fitting person for the job other than her.

With a slender built, an agile reflex, and a taste for anything below the surface of safety, she was more than willing to accept the terms and conditions that came with the job.

"Oliver tells me you're experienced in this line of work," said Ray, the person-in-charge with most of the personal bodyguards assigned to the Minerva Family. "You do know that individuals who prefer this line of work are the ones who have —"

"— nothing left to lose, I know," she continued. This line was something she had memorized long ago. "No one will be looking for me if I do lose my life somewhere along the line. I have no more family to go back to."

Her father had died a couple of years back. Incarcerated for a murder she knew he did not commit, and died a sorrowful death behind bars because of an undetected disease.

Since then, she had taken a liking to the profession of looking after people; being a bodyguard gave her a purpose to live, and another way to make amends with her helplessness.

Ray's face echoed skepticism. "As long as you won't die before the person you're in charge of, then there won't be any problems. At least during this coming election period. Your service is of utmost importance."

Emma released a deep sigh upon learning that she had finally landed this job. "Who am I in-charge of protecting?"

"The heir of the Minerva Family," he answered as he flipped through her folder full of credentials one last time. "Consider this as your first day on the job. Here's the itinerary for today. He's a very busy person but make sure you leave a good impression."

He? She had never worked as a bodyguard for any man before, but being ever-so devoted to what she did for a living, she shoved the underlying curiosity in her mind.

Emma nodded submissively as she extended her hand to claim the supposed itinerary and immediately implanted the details inside her head. The idea to process everything in an instant was something she was good at.

"Memorized it?" Ray quipped, a challenging smirk making its way to his lips.

"Yes," she beamed, "I’ve memorized it by heart."

"Do you still have any inquiries about what your job will be? About the person you're in charge of?"

She shook her head in an absolute stance. "I think I'm well-informed."

"Good, because here comes the Minerva you're in-charge of."

She heard the simultaneous clicking of heels against the marbled floors, and when the door to the room opened, she swang her head to officially meet him with a smile.

Instead of a smile on her lips, she only registered an expression of awe; lips parted in wordless wonder and eyes widened with a different kind of expectation.

He was the first to move on, reflecting the same enchantment on his face, and spoke, "You must be —"

"Emma," she supplied. "I'm Emma Mikhaylov, and starting today, I'll be your personal bodyguard, Sir Minerva."

He smiled, and she was sure that it might've made her heart twitch a bit. "It's nice to meet you, Emma. Are you aware of our itinerary for today?"

She looked over at Ray, and back at the heir. Her breath hitched upon answering. "Yes, sir."

There was one thing that Ray failed to mention.

Norman Minerva, the heir to the family of politicians, was a damn well-proportioned, good-looking man.

II.

"How are you supposed to protect me if you're the one behind the wheels?"

It was another one of his comments that initially swayed her to think that he wasn't just one of those old money brats from a political dynasty.

It had been three months of being his bodyguard, and she couldn't deny that he was suspiciously treating her better than how he did with others.

Without taking her eyes off the road, she answered, "It's my job to chaperone you, too."

He subtly scratched his head. "Do I have to spell it out for you that I want you next to me? We could've asked Ray to chaperone us, could we not?"

"Ah, but Ray is out doing his own chaperoning for your sister."

He snorted. "There is no winning that. He fancies my sister, after all."

Emma chuckled lightly. "Miss Anna is really lovely. I doubt anyone would second-guess their attraction towards her, sir."

"Emma." There was a sternness to the way he said her name that made her slightly jolt in her seat. "I've told you a thousand times to simply call me by my name."

"It's inappro—"

"It is not," Norman sighed heavily, thinking how many times they've had this conversation. "I already told you that I do not think of you merely as my bodyguard. I simply enjoy your company and I think you know by now that I fancy you. We should try to be more casual."

This brought out another laughter from her, yet it was laced with awe and disbelief. She hoped that he couldn't see how hard she was trying to gulp down her nerves.

"That isn't part of my job description, si— Norman. What you're suggesting is highly inappropriate."

Norman raised a skeptical brow from the rearview mirror, and she tensed in her seat when his eyes bore into hers. "But you find Anna and Ray's illicit affair romantic? What makes my attraction for you different from theirs?"

Emma took a deep breath and internally reminded herself that she was a professional. This was not something she should be entangled in, especially since her sole purpose was to keep him safe until the elections were over.

She was simply thankful that they had arrived at the first one on his itinerary. "Would you look at that? We're here! Wait for me to open your door, okay?"

"Emma, you don't have to —"

She whipped her head and raised a finger. "No buts. This is my job."

It was when she got out of the car and paused for a second did she let the facade fade from her face.

Just being in the same space with him was getting harder and harder each day.

III.

It was rare for her to curse, but given the scenario they were in, it was hard not to.

"Damn election period," Emma hissed at the side, aiming the gun towards the door.

The Minerva Estate was breached and unidentified men were detected rummaging within the massive palazzo. Ruckus could be heard from the outside of the walls, and the more it came, the more fear resonated between her fingertips.

"Emma!" Norman cried out from within the confines of his walk-in closet, drenched in his own fear and misgivings. "Let me out this instant!"

It was rare of him to question his lack of strength or physical means to pry a door open; this was one of those rare occurrences.

"No can do, Norman," she vocalized it with depth, making it known to him that there was no way she was letting him out for the sake of his safety. "Stay right there. It's for your own good."

In a hysterical voice, he rebutted, "And what about you? Why can you not hide here with me?"

She found the whole thing utterly ridiculous. "Are you insane? I'm your bodyguard, remember? It's my job to keep you safe!"

"And what will I do if you die trying to protect me?" His words were more of a plea than a question, knotting within the hollows of his stomach.

"I cannot lose you, Emma."

She hissed at the words, and begrudgingly closed her eyes before snapping her view at the walk-in closet.

"And I cannot lose you!" She almost screeched it — everything that she had been bottling inside for the sake of her sanity, eating away every bit of suppressed emotions that she carefully placed at the back of her heart. "I will not allow anything or anyone to bring you harm. I can’t let another person I care for die! This is my job —"

"Who cares about this job —"

"— and this is what I feel for you! Do I have to make it more obvious?" She gritted her teeth and sucked in what was left of her confidence and her time.

He couldn't see her face, but as she spoke, he could imagine her smiling, the one that was ever-so bright in his eyes and never wavered.

"I'm keeping you safe not only because it's my job, but also because... I love you."

The sounds of constricted breathing inside the closet kept crushing her from the inside.

"Emma, I —!"

It left him no room to speak when he heard the door to his room opened, and the succession of gunshots took place.

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours.

Silence consumed him, yet successions of calling out her name proved no merit.

She never answered.

IV.

"You are an idiot! An idiot, I tell you!"

Emma winced, not only for the pain inflicted on her by the graze of a bullet but also for the commotion caused by the man that had just barged through the door.

One look at him was enough of sedation for her; he was unscathed and safe.

She was about to lift herself up, gradually moving to position herself to sit on the bed, when his pair of arms reached out and enclasped her in an embrace.

His smelt of honeydew mixed with smoke, and she could feel the debris of wherever he had gotten himself into while she was asleep, against her cheek. Hearing his raspy shivered breathing against her ear struck every nerve on her body and the amount of tension on the tips of his fingers indicated that he was beyond worried for her dear life instead of his.

If they weren't surrounded by a mountain of eyes that would dare scrutinize this shared moment between then, she would've tackled him to the ground herself.

"I'm glad you're ok—"

"You idiot! Don't ever do that again!" His voice was demanding — pleading even, and seething through her skin. "I thought... I thought I lost you!"

His arms remained tightened around her, and she could only eye Ray with green eyes full of hesitancy. He only shrugged, but the way he cradled the smirk on his lips wasn't enough to deceive her.

She was merely her bodyguard.

She had no rights to him.

"Earlier," he voiced out, trembling, "You told me what you felt. What was I supposed to do inside that closet you locked me in, Emma?!"

The way he held her instigated that he no longer held any plans of letting her go.

"I wanted to keep you safe, si—"

"Do not call me 'sir'. I am simply Norman to you, and you're simply Emma to me."

His eyes are stained with unshed tears; only remorse for moments that he thought he'd never have with her again. "Will you let me hear it again?"

Emma seemed lost. "Hear what?"

His face softened with the memory. "What you told me earlier. Let me hear it once again. Let me know that it wasn't just a hallucination on my end."

That unexpected confession of hers from earlier earned her a bright, rosy blush all over her face.

"I-I have feelings for you."

Norman gave a low chuckle. "I guess that's another way of saying it. But I'm in love with you, Emma. From now on, stop being my bodyguard and simply be with me instead. Please, consider it." His smile came off sheepish. "I can't handle your constant disregard for your own safety for the sake of mine."

"B-but who's going to guard you?"

"I'll take over," Ray interjected, arms crossed over his chest. "It’s not as if I haven’t noticed the way you two have been acting for the last couple of months. Also, it's high time you stop being so reckless, Emma! You shouldn't have handled that situation all on your own. You could've called for back-up in his room!”

Emma nearly winced at Ray's reprimanding; he was right on the dot. She placed her sights on Norman and said, "But I'd still like to look after you. I've... grown to like it."

"Emma," he said her name a soft and gentle as he always had, and she knew that what would come next after her name were words meant to last a lifetime.

"I might not be as strong as you are with a gun, or as fast as you are when you run, but I'll look after you all my life, just as you'll look after mine. I’ll be your family. We’ll be a family."

Emma tried to suppress the grin on her face, but it failed spectacularly, and now she was facing him with immense joy, intertwining her fingers within his. His touch his warm and inviting, and it allowed her to further lament why she never allowed the idea of ever becoming his and him ever becoming hers.

"And we'll be equals?"

She searched his sights and he responded with the same amount of affection in his eyes; in his hold, she’d always be home.

"We were always equals."

#noremma #noremma prompt #the promised neverland #tpn emma #tpn norman #a bit angsty but it's a happy ending i swear

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kalee60 · 4 years

Text

So @larkboyd this happened and I don’t think I have any excuse for it... apologies as I haven’t written for Merthur in quite some time - but your enthusiasm stoked mine - so... errr - enjoy??

Based on this Tumblr post here

No warnings except it gets a little spicy ;)

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

“You look like a startled Stoat,” Arthur called out to Merlin, and Merlin couldn’t help the way his shoulders stiffened. For God’s sake he was trying his damndest to keep them alive - all while not letting a slip of magic out, and quite honestly Arthur was getting on his last nerve.

“Yeah, well at least I don’t look like a bone-idle toad,” Merlin snarked, enjoying the way Arthur straightened and seemed to startle, like Merlin was being inordinately rude, which he wasn’t - he always spoke to Arthur in that way.

“You’re saying I look like a toad?” Arthur finally drawled like he couldn’t comprehend the thought, that it was an impossibility to look thus. Merlin was not going to pander to him and confirm that he actually was the most striking man he’d ever seen, and his chiselled features made Merlin’s insides quiver. He was a prat, a pillock and the most infuriating man, no, it was worse - Prince - in the known world. And Merlin wanted him desperately. Much to his disgust.

It made him feel off-balance, so with as much snideness in his tone that he could muster, he responded, “yeah, and maybe one day you’ll magically transform into a handsome prince.”

Throwing his ruck-sack onto his back he tried and failed to notice the way Arthur touched his face as if to check for warts, then ran a hand through his hair, before gazing down at his body, which left Merlin able to look his fill without being caught. Damn it, he had to curb this - want, deep inside.

“Since magic’s outlawed that’ll probably never happen,” Merlin continued, trying to dampen his desires, it was almost impossible though. And he felt his attraction to Arthur was almost as hard to hide as his magic. “Come on let’s go.”

Arthur followed mulishly behind him. Looking after a Prince was more than a full-time job.

~~~

That evening, Merlin tried unsuccessfully to light a fire, as Arthur watched him too closely to use magic. It was getting cold and he was hungry and he needed to heat the stew else Arthur's royal pain in the behind would complain for hours.

“What’s taking so long?” Arthur whined, “usually it takes you two seconds.”

Merlin wanted to snap that things would go quicker if Arthur deigned himself low enough to help sort out their camp (allowing him a swift glimpse of gold to infuse his eyes and get the damn fire started), instead he ignored the prat.

“It’s cold,” Arthur pressed and Merlin looked up archly, his brow raised and he couldn’t help the utter look of annoyance that crossed his face. Arthur saw, if his small smirk was any indication. The clod-pole knew exactly what buttons he was pressing.

“Go get some more kindling,” Merlin demanded, and when a twig flew past his ear he looked up incredulously. “Did you just throw a stick at me?”

“I’m helping with kindling,” was the response, and Merlin couldn’t help the sharp bark of laughter, which turned into something a little more. Then Arthur joined in, and everything was just absolutely ridiculous. He also wished Arthur’s laugh didn’t make his stomach feel all jittery. The low cadence, deep and full of filthy promises, but not ever aimed at him. Never him.

Merlin was a servant, not a potential bed partner. More pity to Arthur, as Merlin had many, many interesting skills.

To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur actually stood up and began to gather wood, which in turn meant he could use magic to light the fire, and soon a warmth was flowing against the front of his body as he nurtured the small lick of flames into a steady blaze.

“There you go, that wasn’t hard. You could have managed that ten minutes ago, I can’t feel my fingers,” Arthur came up next to Merlin, very closely, and rubbed his hands together and held them out to the fire.

“You’re lucky you can still feel your arse, considering it’s the largest part of you,” Merlin said under his breath.

“What was that?” Arthur asked, not sounding at all very forgiving, and Merlin knew he’d pushed a little too far and gave a beaming smile instead and said he’d put the stew on, which interestingly made Arthur’s gaze soften and his eyes drop to Merlin’s mouth. And although it wasn’t intended to be read in any way other than general, it still sent a zing up Merlin’s spine.

Licking his lips he let out a small cough which startled Arthur into a scowl and a ‘hurry up, I’m starving’. Of course he was.

Dinner wasn’t a fancy affair and they both ate in silence, and as the light disappeared completely from their small part of the forest, sheltered by a rock face, Merlin knew it was going to be too cold overnight for him not to use magic in some way to keep them warm so as not to end up dead from the chills. But he couldn’t. It would be too reckless and an ongoing spell would tax him too much, and honestly he’d never performed such magic anyway. He looked between their two cloaks and swallowed all of his pride. He had to keep the future King safe at all costs. Even the cost to his dignity.

“I think we’re going to have to stay close tonight,” he tried at first.

Arthur’s flat look did not instil confidence, “excuse me?”

“Err, it’s too cold tonight, you can tell by the rings around the moon that the fire won’t give off enough warmth, and since we don’t have proper blankets, we’re going to have to…” Merlin trailed off at the look on Arthur’s face, one he couldn’t really decipher through the flickering flames, “... cuddle.”

“Merlin, are you suggesting the future King of Camelot, cuddle for warmth with his servant?”

What. A. Pillock.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, a dead Prince won’t become King. Even if he’s more frozen than you are now.”

Arthur blinked once, then scowled in such a familiar way it was almost endearing, then finally, much to Merlin’s utter shock, he created a space before him. Not behind. It seemed Arthur was going to allow Merlin to curl up in front of him, closest to the fire. And that was - unexpected.

Although when Merlin made his way over, he instead, lay down behind Arthur as close as he dared. At least behind him if he needed to use magic, he could keep it hidden, to a degree.

They laid awkwardly for about half an hour, when Merlin began to shiver, he couldn’t help it and soon he was wracked with them, trying not to jostle the surly prat before him. Sure he could use a spell to warm himself, but he just wasn’t confident in such close quarters, he’d wait until Arthur fell asleep but of course the dollop-head refused to do anything but stay on guard.

“For the love of Camelot,” Arthur finally huffed and his arm reached out behind him, groping at poor Merlin until completely baffled, his arm was yanked back across and over Arthur. What in hell was he doing? “Better?”

And surprisingly, yes it was, but did he admit that? Instead he took it for what it was, shared body warmth and snuggled in closer, feeling the sharp inhale from Arthur as his hips unintentionally ground into his backside. He swallowed his apology, not wanting to draw attention to it. Trouble was, all of Merlin’s attention was honed in on every breath, every noise, the way the firelight played over Arthur’s golden hair, making it appear ethereal, and he needed to rein in his galloping thoughts. Arthur was not someone he could lust after. Not someone he could have.

“Do you really think that of me?” Arthur said quietly and Merlin craned his neck to try and hear the soft words.

“Think what?”

“That I look like a toad,” was the response, and Merlin bit his lip to stop the laughter bubbling up.

Lord, Arthur was the vainest and most obtuse man in a thousand forests.

“Honestly?” he asked with only a hint of mirth in his voice.

The nod was so unlike Arthur, usually he was full of gust and bluster, but for some reason Merlin decided that the truth wouldn’t hurt. Well part of it.

“No, I don’t think you look like a toad,” he felt Arthur relax a little against him, “but you do look like a prat, not even in training anymore. I’m pleased to confirm you have entered the esteemed ranks of complete and utter fully fledged royal prat.”

“Oh…”

“You sound disappointed? I can still say you look like a toad. Magic, as discussed, won’t help you. But a kiss might...” And what the actual hell just slipped out of his mouth? He was going to blame his absolute lack of brain cells on the fact he had Arthur basically wrapped up in his arms, and the smell and very aura of the larger-than-life man had enraptured his senses until he didn’t even know what he was saying.

It didn’t mean he was lying though.

Arthur went still, very still and Merlin braced himself for a walloping - which didn’t come.

“That could…” Arthur stopped and coughed, his voice thick with something and Merlin held his breath, what was happening between them like an out of body experience. “...could be amenable.”

“Amenable,” Merlin couldn’t help chuckle.

“I mean, I don’t want to be a toad for the rest of my life, who does?”

“No, no of course you don’t.” Merlin barely whispered as Arthur tilted his head back, and suddenly Merlin had pouty lips made for kissing (among other activities he tried not to image too often) within his reach. The small uncertainty in Arthur’s eyes almost hidden by the darkness and Merlin had to school his own features, knowing Arthur could quite simply see his expression clearly in the firelight.

He didn’t wait for a second invitation, not sure if this was his only opportunity to kiss Arthur, other than in his fantasies, he wasn’t about to turn it down, and as he lowered his head, he heard the small inhale between Arthur’s lips, and then they were kissing.

It was everything and unlike anything Merlin had expected. Arthur’s lips were soft, so unbelievably plush under his own cold mouth and he couldn’t help dive deeper, taste further, take everything on offer. And just when Merlin thought his luck had run out, Arthur sighed into his mouth and opened himself more, pressed his body firmer against Merlin and his hand tangled up in Merlin’s hair and, god, it was good. It was perfect, actually.

Merlin couldn’t say how long they lay there, kissing, learning each other’s mouths, seeking to shock and make the other gasp, as when Merlin discovered that Arthur enjoyed having his hair pulled, delighting him to no end.

But it was when a hardness pressed insistently against Merlin’s leg, he realised they’d gone from a fairly innocent teasing to something much more.

“Arthur?” Merlin questioned, diving back in for another kiss, devastating the blonde, if his hazy wild eyes were any indication. “What do you want?”

Arthur didn’t answer for the longest moment, and Merlin was beginning to think he wouldn’t.

“What any good serv… friend would give, nothing more, nothing less.”

Merlin mulled on the words for only a second, making up his mind in less than that.

He rolled Arthur back so he was facing the fire again, Merlin pushing right up against his back, his own hardness tight against Arthur, and although he wanted friction, he had a different plan. The small huff of air, almost as if Arthur were trying to hurry him up, so very familiar and Merlin pressed himself tighter against him, enjoying the hitch of Arthur’s breath.

It was too cold to undress and they had been limited with bathing except the dip in the river earlier that morning, so Merlin had one or two options left to him. He decided quickly what he wanted.

He spared a kiss against the back of Arthur’s neck, and snaked his hand down into the soft folds of Arthur’s pants, grasping his dick firmly, and Arthur bucked against him roughly, and for a moment, Merlin thought he’d overstepped.

But then the way Arthur went boneless and whispered ‘please’ into the night urged Merlin on with his movements.

Arthur was large in his hand, and so very hard, and as he stroked up firmly, his mouth watered, hoping at some stage he’d be able to wrap his lips around the girth, wanting it desperately. Arthur shook in his arms, so Merlin repeated the movement, up and down - slowly, glacially.

“Merlin…”Arthur tried to sass.

“Hmmm,” he replied cheekily, knowing exactly what was going through his mind.

“Move.”

“Demanding, aren’t you?”

Arthur husked in an uneven suck of air as Merlin’s fingers danced across the tip of his dick, finding wetness, enough to spread down his shaft to ease his movements.

“I’m your… oh, god that… bloody hell…” Arthur arched back as Merlin bagan to lazily step his fingers up then down. “I’m your crown prince and I demand you… you know.”

Merlin smirked against his shoulder, not able to stop the small press of his lips on Arthur’s ear, “I’m not sure I know at all, Arthur.”

Maybe it was Merlin saying his name out loud, making it more real, but Arthur moved his head to look back over at Merlin, pressing himself forward as if searching for - oh… Merlin kissed him hard, tongue pushing in and Arthur moaned around him, the vibration of it hitting him square in the gut.

Arthur was stunning.

Merlin began to stroke him hard, Arthur’s lips loosening over his until they were only sharing air, the punched out gasps leaving Arthur’s throat had Merlin puffing out sharp breaths, whispering words of encouragement that Arthur was gorgeous, that he could let go, let Merlin take care of him. He didn’t relent, his pace becoming brutal, with one goal in mind, to get his Prince off. To make him fall apart from only his hand.

“Let go for me,” Merlin rasped, lips pressed on Arthur’s.

It was all he needed, Arthur’s lips clung to his suddenly as he moaned deeply and began to release in Merlin’s hand, the stickiness and warmth pleasing Merlin to his toes. He did that, he made Arthur feel like that. Made him lose control.

It was a heady and addictive feeling.

The kisses turned soft, Arthur still breathing heavily, and Merlin removed his hand, looking down at his soiled fingers and Arthur gave him a look.

“Don’t you dare wipe that on me.”

Merlin smirked, it was not his intent.

One finger disappeared into his mouth and Arthur made a strangled noise as Merlin sucked his second finger clean. Arthur tasted like nothing on earth, and Merlin wanted more. But was it his lot in life to be able to taste Arthur Pendragon from the source?

“You’re going to kill me, Merlin.” Arthur growled before pinning him to the ground shockingly easy. “Wait until I get you back to the palace and into a bed, you’ll not survive the night, especially after a bath - you smell like a boar.”

Merlin laughed, “I smell like you - so are you a toad or a boar.”

Arthur’s hand on his dick stopped the flow of teasing words.

~~~

If Merlin and Arthur were inseparable after their two night jaunt stuck in the woods, and if the other Knights happened to see Arthur’s hand slip into the breeches of his most loyal servant on the odd occasion. Well, it was just as easy to look the other way.

After all - it was their future king and consort they were in the company of.

#mywriting #kalee rambles #not an ask but more of a nudge... 👀#merthur #I should be working on my Stucky fics *shrugs* oops - this just fell out of my brain instead #quick fic

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eury--dice · 4 years

Text

history, huh?

chapter 2: prope

(check the rb for chapter 1 on tumblr + ao3 links!)

Blue’s gum popped loudly on the other line. Adam couldn’t remember the last time he saw her chew gum, but somehow it seemed fitting that she picked up the habit then, with him overseas. “Any weird paintings?”

“I’m legally obligated not to tell you,” Adam replied, flicking his eyes over a textbook. He scanned his eyes over a page, but the fonts and colors all blurred together, creating a grey and red mass of string in front of him instead of a helpful breakdown of France’s pre-revolution economy. His phone, propped up on a tiny potted fern, revealed Blue Sargent in all of her early-evening glory. He wondered what the tabloids might think of her like this: her thick and short black hair held back by clashing vibrant hair clips, dressed in one of Gansey’s old Aglionby sweaters she converted into a halter top, felt-tip pen ink somehow smudged on her cheek. There was something wonderfully grounding about her familiar chaos.

“Contracts are a suggestion and nothing more.”

“Don’t let your mother hear that. She’ll have us both thrown in jail.” Ronan’s words from earlier popped into his head, but he had the luxury of ignoring them with the prince out of sight, and so he did.

“C’mon, Adam, you know she’s a softie. You’re in Kensington Palace. You have to tell me something exciting.”

Adam scrounged for something to tell her. He glanced around his room again, still caught off-guard by how much it felt like a castle. Admittedly, he didn’t have a great reference for what castles were supposed to feel like; the only other castle he had been in was the Bishop Palace on a tour with his mother at age eight. His hair raised on end at random moments here the same way it did then, the draftiness leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. He couldn't quite shake the idea that someone was watching him, caught between air molecules and screaming for someone to hear them. The White House sometimes gave him the same feeling. Realistically, he knew people passed over every spot on the earth and nothing made the walls of the White House or Kensington Palace any different in that regard. But the history in them intimidated him. The presence of greats, from founding fathers to celebrity politicians to monarchs, was a guarantee rather than a possibility. He couldn’t help but feel watched by them, feel their expectations and disappointment thick in the air.

Living there all the time as Ronan did must be lonely, surrounded only by ghosts.

He pushed his feet against the floor, leaning back in his chair so that it balanced on two legs. His leg swung back and forth to dully hit the wooden underside of the seat while the other braced him. Adam didn’t quite want to tell Blue any of that. He knew she would understand, both because she was Blue and because her family was a big believer in the supernatural and psychic. But he didn’t know how to say it without a long-winded rant. “There’s a coat of armor outside my room,” he admitted in a low tone. “I’ve been waiting for it to twitch its finger and beckon me closer.”

“I’m sure if you ask nicely it will let you pursue your weird metal fantasies.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Adam said without heat, finally flipping the textbook shut. “No kink-shaming over the phone.”

“I watched the Wizard of Oz with you at age eight, Adam. You can’t hide your reaction to the Tin Man from me.”

Adam rubbed his eyes. “I need ice cream to deal with this bullying,” he announced, standing from the borrowed desk and snatching his phone up.

“Aw, at least I know that the English haven’t been able to suck all the life out of you if you’re complaining and want ice cream.”

“They haven’t managed it yet, but we’re only one photo op in.”

“Well, if the excess of British does manage to sideline you, let me know. I know Gansey will want the heads-up for the tabloids.”

“As long as you don’t feed them headlines again, I’d be happy to.” Adam rounded the corner into the spacious kitchen reserved for guests of the Crown. He’d roll his eyes at the needless expense if the White House didn’t provide the exact same accommodations.

“I’m telling you again, I know nothing of the allegation.”

Adam gave her a flat look. “Who else would pen ‘First Son Denies Fur Son Residence in the Residence?’ Besides the obvious reason for it being bad, it was clearly you.”

Blue blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Sometimes I hate your intimate knowledge of my love of wordplay.”

“And I yours of the diplomatic taxidermy gifts I receive.”

“I’m sure the Minister of Foreign Affairs’ son meant well, he was just...creepy.”

Adam sighed, opening the freezer with one hand to reveal a box of pre-packaged ice cream cones. “They always mean well.”

He pulled the box from the freezer and shut the door, turning on his heel to face the counter. But he stopped short when he noticed it was no longer just him and Blue alone in the kitchen.

Prince Ronan stood in the entryway to the kitchen, disarmed in the half-light with his flannel pajama pants and black t-shirt combination. Over-the-ear headphones sat on his head, but he pushed them down to loop around his neck. The music was so loud it bled into the air, carrying the harsh sound of drums until they reached Ronan across the kitchen. On his screen, Blue studied Adam and his sudden pause, and the voice of Gansey carried over from somewhere far away - “I’ve got a new article,” it sounded like, though Adam could barely hear anything.

“Call you back,” he said quietly, disconnecting from the call. Ronan looked almost apologetic when Adam looked back up towards him.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he confessed. “Goody-two-shoes like you.”

Adam wanted to take offense to it, but something stopped him. “I could say the same for you.”

“Yes, well, insomnia calls.”

“Doesn’t it always?” The two shared a tight smile.

“I was out,” Ronan explained, gesturing to the box in Adam’s hand. “Knew there’d be a stock here. I’m...sorry.” The word sounded bitter and foreign on his tongue.

“It’s fine,” Adam said. “Midnight snacks are to be taken seriously or not at all.” He slid the box across the counter, suddenly very aware of his threadbare, faded crimson coca-cola tee shirt and GU sweatpants. He couldn’t stop feeling the slide of them against his skin.

Ronan clutched the box once it reached him, looking to Adam with something close to surprise. Still, he opened the box and selected an ice cream.

While he was distracted, Adam snapped a picture, the flash bright in the dim kitchen.

The stare leveled at him by Ronan should’ve been enough to pin any self-preserving person in place, but Adam rarely did what was best for him personally. “What the fuck is that for?”

“Two social media posts a day,” Adam replied, speeding through the filtering process and tapping to the captioning. “It’s part of the contract.”

“Of course it would be,” Ronan mutters with great disdain. “Fucking social media addicted hounds.”

“Not a fan of technology?”

“Oh, sure, other than the fact that it’s a blight consuming the world by slaughtering brain cells and slowly giving us radiation poisoning.”

“You could’ve just said ‘yes.’”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?”

Adam smiled brightly. “Not giving me a headache from all of the pomposity?”

“Exactly. No fun.” When Adam continued to stare blankly at his screen, Ronan rolled his eyes. “Does it take you this long to caption everything you do? If so, I understand why so little governing takes place.”

“Because the monarchy is oh-so-powerful,” Adam replied, but then decided to cut them off before it could turn into a full-blown fight. “It always takes me a minute to think of something good.”

Ronan grabbed the phone from his hands. “You’re overthinking it,” he dismissed, making a few decisive taps before handing the phone back to Adam, photo captioned but not yet posted. insomnia ice cream ft. @PrinceRonan.

“Thought you hated technology?”

“Hate and lack of proficiency are two different things.” “...Of course,” Adam said, clicking post on the photo. Ronan turned and walked toward the door, the song on his headphones audibly changing. Not one for goodbyes, then. The feeling he had in his room was back then, the idea that ghosts clung to the air around him and stole oxygen with their demands. Although Ronan had not yet left, Adam already felt as though he were lonely. Lonely, but not alone, still technically with Ronan and all of the ghosts thickening the air.

Adam, in a fluid movement he didn’t really plan, dumped half of the ice creams on the counter and held out the box across the marble countertop as though bridging some wide ocean. The coolness of the marble inched closer to the skin of his forearm where it hovered a few inches in the air.

“You can take these if you’d like.”

Ronan froze, his back straightened and still before he turned ninety degrees back to look at Adam. “Pardon?”

“The ice cream cones. It’s probably better you do, honestly. I just eat them when I’m bored. Calories I don’t really need.”

Ronan’s startlingly blue eyes studied him for a moment, roaming every line of Adam’s face as though searching for some trickery and then jumping to the box in Adam’s outstretched hand. “Thank you,” he said at last in an undertone, accepting the offered box. And, leaving Adam with some hint of a smile, Prince Ronan was gone, Adam all by himself and the faint memory of intense guitar music leaking from expensive headphones still lingering in the air.

Once they landed firmly in PR territory, Adam felt a bit steadier on his feet.

PR he knew like the back of his hand, armed with years of experience from campaigns and political terms. It was not innate for him like for Gansey, but like everything else in his life, Adam was a star pupil and quick to pick it up thoroughly. He studied diligently, examining the facial expressions of everyone around him, examining each furrow of brow and twitch of lips and bellow of a laugh, practicing and perfecting on his own to ensure that he blended in seamlessly and, when necessary, stood out brilliantly. America’s First Son, valedictorian-intelligent and attractive enough to stop hearts for a moment upon seeing him. By the time he sat on ITV This Morning next to his enemy, he certainly knew all the tips and tricks and expertise ensuring a successful interview, and luckily Ronan seemed to know his way around a talk show as well. His thoroughly British host seemed appropriately charmed by their dynamic, a golden-child American and England’s simultaneously proper and wild Royal.

Adam excelled at PR not because he was natural but because he was over-prepared, and so he was comfortable with the rhythm he and Ronan fell into - referencing each other’s favorites, cracking dry, sarcastic jokes about ice cream, fist-bumping and throwing arms around each other’s shoulders for effect when needed.

He counted it as a win that his resentment never made it into his words or his actions. Instead, he distracted himself with what they were doing, savoring the news alerts of their “clearly natural” friendship and the thumbs-up and “!!!” texts from Gansey and Blue whenever something exciting reached the press. He ignored Ronan for the most part, and Ronan mostly ignored him. He clenched his teeth and smiled at how rough-and-tumble Ronan looked under stage lighting, as wickedly handsome as a poisoned and sharpened dagger, unfairly attractive even with his head closely shaved.

Then the time for their second photo op rolled around, sometime after Adam posted an empty-feeling snapshot of Ronan on a deserted London sidewalk with the caption love a nice mid-afternoon walk, and his mood plummeted sharply.

As well as people and hospitals generally went together, Adam did not have a particularly terrible relationship with any hospitals, especially the Royal Marsden NHS Foundation Trust. He did not enjoy them, sure, but who did? And his discomfort may have gone below the surface-level “death and sickness occur here” jitteriness most people felt, but the majority of the unease coiling in his stomach came from the utterly staged feeling to everything. The First Son and Prince came bearing gifts of books, but they probably did more harm than good for all of the children by displacing all the medical professionals and disrupting their steady routines with full camera crews.

It felt hypocritical, and Adam definitely didn’t want to be shoving cameras in the faces of cancer patient children, but the decisions weren’t up to him, and so he slipped back into PR mode. He shook the hands of nurses and posed faux-candidly for cameras. The only real things he did were with the kids - once they knew who he was, they asked for stories of celebrities and monuments, and although Adam was no fantastic storyteller, he did his best to answer every question and then some. He read to them, too, from the new and donated books, even when the cameras left in search of Ronan. Anger was hard to hold onto when he looked into their faces and resolved to cheer them up.

He read until his voice began to grind at itself, tucked next to kids on narrow hospital cots. They were all ages, and all perfectly suited to throw Adam back into memories he didn’t want to relive. Looking at the books, with the gaudily-colored pictures and ridiculous rhymes, was easier than looking at the children. They all looked to him with similar looks painted across their faces and twinkling in their eyes, one that made Adam’s heart twist, because he knew that he’d worn that expression so often as a child when he thought someone could help him or save him. They looked at him like he was hope itself, some savior come to grant them a wish and a recovery. He didn’t want to disappoint them.

The visit of the First Son and Prince of England must have cut into naptime because at some point Adam looked up from the book to realize that the camera crews had retreated and all the patients in his ward had dozed off. He slowly unfurled himself, gangly limbs and all, to stand without disturbing the child who rested so fitfully on the hospital cot. His steps were soft and random against the tile, mostly just a blind search to try and find Ronan. It wasn’t long before he heard Ronan’s voice stretching over space from the next room over. Adam slowed, hoping to stay just out of sight while still observing Ronan.

The Prince perched on the edge of a narrow hospital bed, reminding Adam ridiculously of a bird poised to take flight. Since there were no cameras near him, his posture was slightly relaxed like it had been in the kitchen the night previously. A little girl clung tightly to his hand while he gestured wildly with his other, her eyes wide and hanging onto his every word. Ronan’s voice was somehow hushed and grand at the same time, his posh accent dulled to something a little more rural.

“When three hundred years had come and gone, the four swans traveled South to the sea of Moyle, braving the turbulent tides that wanted to draw them under.” He leaned closer to her and tugged lightly on her free hand with his free hand, perhaps to echo the water he mentioned in the story, and she gripped it tightly, nearing laughter with every second. “They swam past the cold and stormy seas, their feathers ruffled but unharmed when they reached Inis Glora. The swans had grown tired over their long journey, the years of their lives catching up to slow them down.”

Adam, without thinking, felt a bit of a smile take over his face. He was taken aback by the change in Ronan. The boy sitting on the bed seemed lightyears away from any other version - he’d gone a little hazy at the edges, as though he were made of smoke, as though Adam was dreaming and viewing some kind of apparition. His tailored lines still stuck out jaggedly, cutting a harsh figure, but he seemed at ease and gentle for the first time Adam had ever seen. One hell of a storyteller, too. Adam wasn’t sure he wanted to know why, as the Prince of England, Ronan could let all of those Irish words roll off of his tongue as though they came naturally.

An Irish children’s tale. An Irish children’s tale. Why would he know any of those? The answer nagged at Adam’s brain, but he couldn’t find it in himself to dig.

The girl was quiet as Ronan’s voice trailed off until it became nothing. The swans had returned to elderly humans and lived with a priest who blessed them for the rest of their days, and Adam assumed that she was processing the anticlimactic ending. Finally, she said, “I like those endings best.”

“You do?” Ronan asked, patience yielding in his tone. “Why do you like them?”

“Sad endings are too sad, but happy endings aren’t real.”

Adam could only see the back of Ronan’s head, but he could hear him clear his throat and see him squeeze the girl’s hand in his much larger one. “Me, too.” He leaned away from her a little, letting go of one of her hands. When he spoke again, a smile was in his voice. “You’re much wiser than the adults I know. I might have to offer you a position advising me.”

The girl laughed again, a giddy and wild and hopeful thing. “You’re very silly,” she informed Ronan, likely too young to realize any breaches in etiquette. Luckily for her, Ronan didn’t care, either.

“I am very serious,” he said, his face no doubt translating that sentiment very well. He squeezed her hand again. “I’ll be back with an offer in fifteen or so years, don’t you worry.”

“Is that a promise?”

Ronan stilled at once, the muscles in his back set just as they had been in the kitchen. Adam didn’t envy the situation she’d inadvertently put Ronan into. As childish and silly as her question was, there was a little too much weight to the response for him to casually offer a yes or a no.

“Do your best to get better,” he said at length, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

And, oh, that expression of hope was back shining on her face, and Adam had to shuffle to his other foot, looking away. The people were the reason he liked politics, liked the idea of trying to help build a world even a fraction better than the one he was raised in, and yet he couldn’t look. Couldn’t bear the thought of letting anyone down.

Ronan glanced behind him, clearly catching sight of Adam, just as a nurse bustled into the room and cheerfully announced that it was time for medicine.

“Thank you,” the little girl said before releasing his hand.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Ella,” Ronan said with a stiff formality that made her giggle again. “And of course,” he added, a little more softly.

It was perhaps not a polite enough exit for a prince, but after Ronan clumsily thanked the nurse and stepped back into the ward to meet Adam, he knew it was the best they would get. Ronan continued moving past him in the direction Adam assumed the cameras must have gone.

“Ah, so you do have feelings other than anger,” Adam said, trailing Ronan into the hall.

“Don’t act so fu... completely surprised,” Ronan replied, turning his head towards Adam. At first, he thought Ronan might have been uncomfortable with the idea of Adam seeing the interaction, but instead, his face started to squeeze into something close to a smile, his eyes crinkling and the corners of his mouth lifting. A pop from down the hallway shuttered the expression before it could become fully formed. A shout cut through the air just as Persephone appeared between Ronan and Adam as though materializing from thin air. Her impossibly long, white hair clung to the sleeves of their sweaters with static friction as she shoved them with surprising strength into a closet.

Her voice was still serene and airy despite the sudden tension settling on everyone’s chests. “Wait for the all-clear.” And the door shut with a thunk behind her.

Adam leaned his head against it with a sigh, before very rapidly remembering that they were two high-profile targets in a possible active shooter scenario and doors weren’t exactly safe. He scrambled backward, accidentally knocking into Ronan and sending them tumbling into the wall. Of all the closets to be unceremoniously shoved into, they had to be stuck in one barely large enough for the brooms stacked to his right.

“Can you stop falling into me, please?” came Ronan’s voice, taut with something close to fury but probably closer to anxiety.

“But you love it so much,” Adam bit out, trying to backtrack. Ronan’s face had somehow ended up in Adam’s hair, and he could feel Ronan’s long lashes close, paired with a troubled exhale. Adam managed to extract himself from Ronan and slide against one of the walls, crouching beside something he suspected was a bucket. Ronan followed his example, leaning against the opposite wall until he slid to the ground. Adam couldn’t see Ronan very well, but judging from the faint rustling sounds of buzzed hair against cotton and quick, deep breaths, he wasn’t handling the situation very well.

“This is a new one,” Adam said. “Assassination attempts, I mean. Is this common for the royalty?”

“Shut up,” Ronan said, his voice faint from his position closer to the ground.

“I’m blaming you if we die, you know.” When he received no response, Adam continued. “I probably could have made it at least a couple more years. No one’s ever tried to shoot me before. Guess I’m not important enough on my own. Who knew our fake friendship could be so deadly?”

“Fuck off,” Ronan replied, his breaths still deep.

“I’d love to, mate,” Adam said, forcing faux-jolly British inflection into the last word, “But we’re stuck in this closet for the foreseeable future, or until we get shot.”

“I meant shut up before that happens.”

“What, you’re not keen on life-threatening scenarios?” Ronan didn’t respond, and Adam felt a bit of genuine concern leak into his other thoughts. “Are you doing alright? I thought you of all people would be used to this.”

“Not keen on tight spaces,” he grit out, his teeth likely bared in that dangerous way that made Adam’s hands curl into fists. “Now fucking stop for a minute.”

They sat in silence, nothing but their breaths filling the space between them. The silence must have started to grate on Ronan because he broke it first.

“It doesn’t happen all the time, you know.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m telling you.” Ronan breathed something that sounded like dumbass. “Once, when I was small and out in public with my father. Declan was there, too. I can’t remember much of it. That’s the only other time.”

“Suppose it’s as good a story as any,” Adam said, his voice just a hint louder than Ronan’s whisper had been. “Glad I can hear it trapped in this minuscule closet with you.”

“You’re the one with the foot digging into my hip, not the other way around.”

“Where the hell am I supposed to put it, Your Highness?” He nudged his foot and Ronan surged forward, clamping a hand around Adam’s mouth and the other clenching in Adam’s collar, practically hovering above where Adam stretched out uncomfortably. Adam much preferred this almost-fighting to their pretending to be friends.

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to die today.” Adam tried shifting to free himself, but Ronan had a firm grip and he couldn’t gain any ground. Instead, he licked Ronan’s palm, and Ronan was quick to drop his hand in disgust with a quiet noise of discontent. He found himself pinned with one of Ronan’s glares, the intensity tangible even in the dark.

“I don’t want you to die either, you sodding idiot. I’m not the only one in here. You talking is ruining both of us.” “Clearly you’re not, this might actually be comfortable without you and your ridiculous, showy muscles. But I didn’t realize you cared, sugar,” he said, thinking fleetingly of his mother, “if I was breathing or not.”

“Right now, your life is tied very closely to mine, and so I do.”

“Sweet as honey,” Adam taunted, thickening his drawl. Most of the time he tried to school his words into something a little more Northern, but he enjoyed the way the southern accent bothered Ronan.

“No peace, none at all,” Ronan muttered. “Not even in the looming face of death.”

Adam could have said the same, really. The last thing he expected to see from Ronan while shoved into a dark closet with him was any genuine emotion. But the stories, the fear in the enclosed space, the story of his father-

His father. Of course.

“Was that story from your father?” He asked, although he already was sure of the answer.

Ronan’s response clipped. “Yes.”

His conscience was still mostly intact, and so Adam began to feel a little bad for picking a fight while in a stressful situation and then bringing up Ronan’s grief. “You’re a good storyteller.” Ronan’s silence was judgemental and disbelieving, so he persisted. “What, I can’t give a compliment? You are.”

“My siblings and I had stories read to us like everyone else, Parrish. We’re not programmed, bland colonialism robots.” A pause. “Well, Mathew and I aren’t.”

“Of course not, imperialism comes first.”

“You’re welcome for the country, then.”

A brief silence followed. It felt, inexplicably, like the two of them had been toeing a line ever since Adam stood outside of Ella’s door and heard Ronan speak to her. They were inching closer with every word spoken.

“My father was the real storyteller,” he admitted, and Adam internally marked another inch traveled. “Since he was an actor and all. He always told us those stories even though he wasn’t technically supposed to. I just...imitate.”

“Imitate?”

“Yes,” Ronan said, providing no other explanation. “Why do you give a damn, anyway? You don’t want childhood tales and neither do I. You hate me.”

“We’re stuck like this forever,” Adam admitted. He’d known it before, but speaking the words made them feel more real. “Neither of us likes it, but here we are, shoved in a closet together. We have to pull off this act for the rest of our lives, Ronan, and I need something more than a cheat sheet your PR team slapped together.”

Ronan was eerily still for a long moment before he finally spoke. “Then why do you hate me?”

The question caught Adam off guard. “What?”

“Why do you hate me?” Off of Adam’s wary look, he threw the words back in his face. “We’re stuck together just like you said. I need some kind of answer.”

Adam sighed, acquiescing. “Do you remember what you said in Rio?”

“The fuck are you talking about, Parrish?”

“The Olympics?”

“When you threatened to push me into the River Thames?”

“No. You being a condescending dick at diving finals.”

Ronan was still for a long moment before bringing a hand to his shoulder and easing himself back away and off of Adam. “Oh. Shit.”

“So. You remember?”

“Vaguely.” A pause, elongated in the dark. “You heard?”

“Yes.”

“So that did it, then?”

“Yes.”

But Ronan must have known he had more to say because he stayed silent.

“I probably would have hated you no matter what,” Adam finally admitted, some low part of his gut feeling heavier with the admission. “It’s just - I wasn’t even the First Son then, and everyone was already comparing us. And it didn’t matter if they thought I was better or you were better or whatever, it was just - the idea of you bothered me, a white boy born with the power to make such change and unquestioning support from millions who was throwing it all away instead. And I’ve been compared to a shit ton of people in my life, from my mother to Blue and Gansey to just - everyone, but somehow with you, it was always the worst. So yes, it was the diving finals.”

“But it was also you being self-conscious?”

“But it was also you being an asshole.”

“Yeah, it was,” Ronan admitted lowly, and Adam blinked at the admission. “I was - I definitely was one. I think I was one all the fucking time back then. It doesn’t excuse anything, but my father passed on...not long before, if you can understand.”

Adam didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, but he nodded all the same. He felt something in his throat tighten. “Of course. I don’t think I’d realized.”

“It doesn’t excuse it,” Ronan repeated. “I’m sorry.”

This was something heavier, truer than his other apologies - something beyond deeply-ingrained politeness that allowed him to apologize for petty things. It was as though he genuinely asked for forgiveness, like Adam had any real choice in the matter, like Adam’s forgiveness was something Ronan actually wanted. Adam never expected to receive a genuine apology from the Prince of England.

“I appreciate it. And I’m sorry as well. For...not realizing.” Ronan’s figure visibly relaxed even though it was barely visible.

“So, depressing Irish stories. Is that your default?”

“I’m afraid the Irish don’t have a lot of serotonin-filled stories.”

“There’s the English in you,” Adam said to a breathy laugh from Ronan. “Do you remember any more?”

“Probably couldn’t forget them, if we’re being honest. And not speaking to the press.”

“They hate me at the moment, so you have nothing to worry about.” He paused before he continued. “Would you tell one?”

“...why?”

“I don’t know. We’re stuck in here, aren’t we?”

“Be careful what you wish for. I’ll write you in as a Celtic witch.”

“I always thought I’d make a very dashing villainous magician. If that’s the price to pay, I can live with it.”

Ronan was silent, and Adam thought that he had given up on any conversation. However, he spoke again, his voice oddly light. “Once, the fierce Fianna believed in many things, none as much as the beautiful Eden laying in the Western Sea. Tir na nÒg, it was called, and the name passed between them like a secret.” Suddenly breaking character, Ronan said in his normal whisper, “That means “land of the living” for any uneducated parties.”

“Dick. Go on.”

There was something captivating in this new way Ronan spoke paired with the near-darkness and tight space of their closet. “Fionn, the leader of the Fianna-”

“Great naming process, by the way.”

“Shut the hell up or no story.”

Adam shut up.

“The leader of the Fianna led them to hunt the deer along the shores in County Kerry, including his son, Oisín. But Oisín soon caught sight of a single, bright light in the distance, all the way through the thick green of tree foliage. As it drew closer, he saw that the light was, instead, a beautiful girl with hair of spun gold astride a snow-colored mare. When Fionn inquired as to who she was, she informed them that she was Niamh of the Golden Hair, daughter of the King of Tir na nÒg, and she had come to take Oisín as her husband-”

Ronan cut off abruptly, and Adam almost asked why, but a moment later he heard the source of the silence - heavy footsteps outside the door. Suddenly, neither of them breathed, instead choosing to sit in total petrified silence.

And slowly, mercifully, the door crept open, spilling cold white light along the floor of the cupboard and across their splayed legs. Persephone stood in the doorway, her expression relaxed once again.

“False alarm,” she said breezily, reaching out her hands to haul them back to their feet. Adam shifted uncomfortably on pins and needles as his legs shot back to life. “Fireworks, not guns.”

“Fireworks in a hospital?”

Persephone shrugged. “It was some teenager.”

“Always is,” Ronan said, dangerously close to a joke. He blinked rapidly, setting his shoulders back to stand at his full height. He slanted a look towards Adam, his mouth curving into something wicked but not intimidating, all bark and no bite. “Bonding is over, then.”

“Thank God.”

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tripstaysnoided · 4 years

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Flow Just Like Water

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Story and writing-related transparency update and my many shames...

The Question on Everyone’s Mind

“Hey you haven’t updated No Stars over Uptown in almost a year...”

Hmm, I hate it when you’re right. (This section has been rewritten ad-nauseam to curb back the bitchiness by the way)

So back in early/mid 2018, the idea was to divorce Uptown from a person who influenced it (and myself) heavily. She was my most important audience member, the closest friend I ever had, and unfortunately someone who used her power to bully, ostracize, and hurt others with my help. I cut contact when the hurt + some self-awareness finally reached me. Apologies were made and I feel like my work will never be done with it, but there was still Uptown.

Between censored comments, entirely recasting Axel’s save, different plot threads, and a load of disclaimers, there was nothing that would scrub her influence from the story. There was no way to cleanly drop everything because of how deep her influence went. It disgusted me to look back at it, and I had to private the blog because I feared what it endorsed, even if just in the past.

I pulled back from that sims writing community. I had its main thread on the Official Forums removed too (I guess if that was a mystery to anyone). It was a surrender that I never wanted to do, but I had it in my mind that if I was gone, then she wouldn’t be there either. Uptown became this cursed item, and as I quietly retired it, I noticed that she went quieter too. Not gone, but enough to make me sleep easier at night and even occasionally say hello to old friends.

And I hope deep in my heart that no one else is getting hurt in my place, but now this is gonna haunt me all day huh!

The two paths forward...

1) Complete Uptown rewrite that I’ve been threatening everyone with all year. While it won’t ever be clean because I can’t undo time, I do have a sound outline for a story that is much more true to my actual vision and how I’ve evolved, with a few necessary boundaries in place that are going to be there for all stories moving forward: no more casting calls and no more collaborative efforts. I am not going to open myself up to this happening again, even if the people have changed.

2) Same as above, but I continue the original Uptown as a favor to loyal readers alongside the rewrite. I would try to put the effort into it that I initially did, but with no promises on an update schedule and no advertising. I did ask myself “is there Patreon but without pledging money, just the private posts function” but it could operate as part of a private forum, a members-only part of a website, etc.

Also readers of the original would be beholden to a rule of “don’t spoil the rewrite for new readers, c’mon guys”. I mean, not really, but it is a good courtesy to extend to people.

Priority on this isn’t high but you at least will see what is!

I will probably make the blog public again either way due to the many broken links on my Tumblr but we’ll see. There are other things to deal with as I shall list!

Where Life’s Been Regardless

Been spending more time with my grandpa every weekend. Life’s pretty good and he’s warming up to my dogs.

Shiny New Webbed Site

Cucumber Fields Forever is a site I own now. We have a full domain, cucumberfieldsforever.com, a blog with one post, and the framework needed to host stories the way I want to and still through WordPress. The functionality of likes, comments, and following should still be the same but you know...I’ll take feedback too...

The main blog still has an undefined purpose though I do have drafts sitting around about:

The maybe/maybe not hoax band that was on the Metal Archives and the history of Funeral Doom Metal.

The curious case of when Sims 4 babies get their genetics and my only collaboration (read: was talking about it with a friend and might quote her if needed, it’s actually a bit of a doozy)

Amazon.com’s fake dried udon noodles, an actual issue by the way.

Things I’m reading! (This’d be a monthly feature if so)

For the sake of unity, I am thinking of solutions for hosting old and shameful content there including Uptown and for the real fans in my followers feed, Eight Cicadas...a world I totally have plans for too (not really). I don’t want them to be front-and-center, and that’s why I mentioned forums/members-only content. I finally have that power! Maybe.

Ooooh but what are the costs? Not too much to handle, that’s what. 😉 (Like really, I don’t need any hand-wringing about this, I can manage my finances)

Project Queue (In Order of Confirmedness)

Outrun the Scythe: have you seen me post out-of-context Sims 3 pictures? Did you want more? Did you hope it was Linda in Custody? If the answers are yes, yes, and “meh, whatever you want”, then you’re in luck.

Outrun the Scythe is a Sims 3-based tale of a young gay man and his zombie grandma, as they are both offered separate roles of being the undying intermediaries between the world of humans and the influence of a race of space daemons. It’s pretty familiar if you’ve been following me pre-Uptown, taking some cues from stories I’ve kept under lock and key like Eight Cicadas, The Chains of Lyra, and the not-so-locked-up Ironstar Immortals (of which Outrun is just the direct sequel to sans any retconning...ah the smell of early 2013 and performative heterosexuality)

Ah, back to my roots.

It’s a hybrid of gameplay, story, and lore about my little race of daemons with a lot of my own idiosyncrasies that I’m not really ashamed of: basing it off a super-polarizing Sims 3 challenge from a site I moderate, using a lot of EA’s pre-made townies and their genes, lots of unnecessary posemaking, stupid references. It’s a comfort to have in my roster.

While the first few chapters are in the middle of revision, I have around six in the queue and will be making this public when I have ten. I’m guessing December then?

Undocumented Black Widow Challenge: I just did this for fun/forum kudos (yes, in fact I have joined many forums), there was going to be a short story but it was quickly becoming something against my code of ethics. I mean, sims die and all. (read: I had to choose between “heterosexual widow” and “widow with some same-sex marriages that still end in tragedy, reinforcing negative stereotypes to the public for the sake of me not getting bored and detached during gameplay” so there were no good choices. Except for her affair with the mailwoman, 10/10) I hope to finish this before October ends and get my medal on Boolprop, I’m pretty far through it all. I might upload the sims involved anyways. This is for TS4.

I mentioned it because it’s keeping me busy. But not for long!

NaNoWriMo 2020: Dipping my toes into that again! It’s not sims-related, just a tale of lesbians, nosy neighbors, a haunted beach house, and some light murder and kidnapping. And I actually got my brother to scout out locations for me this weekend. If there’s any demand, I can share chapters as the rough drafts are finished, especially for the sake of proofreading.

Not saying I’m publishable, but wouldn’t it be nice? Will keep me occupied for much of November.

Untitled “Dear Diary” Challenge: Tired of feeling left out of the fun on the Boolprop forums, their “Dear Diary” challenge was the one that appealed to me the most on first glance. Why? Probably once I found an idea that let it be set in the early/mid-2000′s to begin with and explore some interesting characters through diary entries (which I have mixed feelings on as a literary device but I think that’s just me saying “well I didn’t like Dracula”, yes you get bonus points for writing it like a diary)

Also writing is the one skill I’m good at across multiple games. Wanna hear me bitch about the cooking skill tree in TS4 or riding in TS3? I’ll spare you.

I guess I could have included “spending time on Boolprop with old and new friends” in where my life has been. It’s a nice lil community if also a place with its own idiosyncrasies as well. So it doesn’t feel like I’m promoting another community if/when I make a thread there for Outrun the Scythe, I want to have a couple chapters of this ready to go by Outrun’s release, though it’s not gonna be the highest priority compared to it nor as long because I think I can blast through the gameplay quickly.

This one will be played in TS4 due to it having the easiest writing skill/I dunno variety is the spice of life. And hopefully another December release.

Defunded or Forgotten?: Oh shit I actually released stuff in 2020 and told no one? I do have a “mortifying ordeal of being known” sinking feeling whenever I get a site hit because it’s not my best work (but good enough) and veered sharply into issues I may be over my head in, though I try to be a good noodle with research and listening. Maybe hiding is bad after all.

Being based off a very flawed and incomplete Sims 3 challenge I found in the annals of the Official Forums, there’s a lot of behind-the-scenes work just making sense of things. And I’m scared of working on reconstructing the house but I haven’t abandoned the project yet. The story has eight chapters so far and is pretty game-based with some additions here and there. Scared of how long it could be though!

Date for this unknown.

Untitled Sunlit Tides Decadynasty: another year-long abandoned TS3 project with a much stupider reason why. Last update was about Hua getting ready for her wedding, and I wanted to do some poses for a bait-and-switch wedding chapter because to put it mildly, her real one was an absolute disaster.

Blender decided to fuck up its interface again, I got discouraged (this probably does account for some of the Uptown delays too), and when I decided to plow forward, it was for other projects instead.

Meanwhile I played all the way to Gen 5′s teenhood and the only thing stopping me is time (it takes almost 30 minutes to load the file right now, though they’ll be looking at moving towns in a couple gens) and maybe fear of the Logic skill.

Date for this also unknown but it’s easy to pump out updates once I’m in the groove for it. My third heir had a difficult life so maybe I’m just trying to bury it.

Also I just noticed the view count there was really good and probably because I linked it here on Tumblr last year. Thank you so much guys. I can’t really fret over views on Carl’s forum these days thanks to the years-long death spiral pretty much every forum anywhere has been riding on. But it’s a nice surprise. And it’s an alright little challenge recap to read during your lunch break or whatever.

The Wawas

I figured I’d end on the real news everyone wants! Both the chihuahuas are a year and a half now and reached their adult size around a year ago. For the most part, they are happy and healthy dogs.

#state of the uwunion #long post

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