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souperbloom · 10 months ago

Note

hey! i love your ash and luke one shots so i was wondering if maybe we can get a soft dom cal? something like he comes home late from a studio session and you get mad because you had plans for that night, so he begs for forgiveness by eating you out lol

i love your brain anon. this one was fun as hell.

enjoy some soft!dom cal <3 xoxo

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apologies. [C.H.]

🎸boyfriend!cal

the ask pretty much told y’all everything you need to know. kissy.

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, angst if u squint, oral (f!receiving), dirty talk/praise, squirting.

WORDCOUNT: 3.4k

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"Are you guys fuckin’ coming, or what?"

"Yeah, just— gimme’ another hour. We’ll be there…"

"Swear?"

"Fuckin’ swear, Ang."

You were lying.

You knew damn well you were lying. And so did your best friend, Angie.

Also known as; the one on the phone, that had been pestering you about your plans to go out for the last three hours.

You’d been stalling for a third of that time, which you weren’t proud of. These plans had been made weeks in advance and the only thing stopping you from just getting up and leaving right now was your rather untimely boyfriend.

Calum was the type to let time slip right through his fingers. He was terrible at managing how he spent that time, let alone keeping an eye on the clock. Especially when he was at the studio with the boys.

So you weren’t surprised when he had told you he’d be home to get changed at 10:30— yet now, it was well past midnight.

Letting out a frustrated huff, you toss your phone on the side of the couch. Your long sleeve ‘going out’ top was riding up your back and furthering the anger that was boiling right through you.

"Fuckin’ hell, Cal…" You mumble to yourself, talking into open air with nobody to reprimand, nobody to yell at and let off steam.

You were alone.

The clock on the cable box blinked 12:32. An hour and a half later than the original time of your plans. You were about ready to storm out of your apartment and leave a long, shitty note for Cal to read about just how angry he had made you; but you knew deep down that you’d have a better time with him at your side. You loved him, for fuck’s sake.

Too damn much, sometimes.

Just when you thought a little too hard about putting your shoes on, you hear the familiar sound of keys rattling against the door. It was more frantic than usual; most likely due to the sweaty hands that were manning them.

You snap your head around to watch the door bust open, revealing your panting boyfriend who had probably just run up the five flights of stairs it took to get to your apartment.

He was never a fan of waiting for the elevator.

"Hi, hi, baby— hi— I’m— I’m here, I’m here." An exasperated chuckle laces through your boyfriend’s words as he tried with all of his might to kick the door closed and take his coat off at the same time.

But you just sat there. Your legs crossed, your arms folded— the most scornful, disapproving gaze in your eye.

"You’re late, Cal," you say, disdain rattling off your tongue like a viper.

"I— I know, baby. Fuck, I’m sorry. Lost track of time… fuckin’ around when I shouldn’t have been. But— I’m here now. I’m here."

His words were coming out jumbled and frantic, while still running around like a chicken with its’ head cut off. He had ventured towards the kitchen island, dropping his keys and taking off his beanie that shielded him from the crisp fall winds.

His cheeks were glowing red, still laminated with the sweat it took to get him up five flights of stairs. Yet he hadn’t even made eye contact with you.

"We made these plans weeks ago." You try your best at remaining stern with him, sitting still.

"I know, I know, I know, I know…" Calum was now migrating towards your bedroom, his voice growing faint and trailing off as he exited. You watched the empty hallway; the sounds of rummaging through drawers, opening and slamming them shut was already pissing you off more than you’d like to admit. Your leg was bobbing impatiently now, trying to think of any kind of way to cool yourself off before you burst into flames.

Or, tears.

"Cal—." Your voice cracks slightly, to no response.

"Calum." You try again, a bit louder this time.

His head finally pops around the corner of the door frame. "What?"

"Just—" Your sentence breaks with a sigh, dropping your head into your hand as you pinch the bridge of your nose, "—forget it."

"What?" He steps out into the hallway completely, dropping his hands to his sides.

"Forget it, Cal… I-I don’t even wanna’ go anymore."

The clothes that were once in his hands drop to the hardwood floor as he rushes over to you on the couch.

"Hey,” he tries to console, "don’t say that."

"What’s the point? We’re already two hours late! Angie’s one phone call away from ripping my goddamn head off!" You can’t help but huff, dropping your head into your hands.

"Y/N, I’m really sorry." Calum voice rings soft, and sweet— but there was nothing more that you wanted to do than wring out his fucking neck.

"Just— drop it, Calum. I’m already in a shitty mood."

You hated being so mean.

Each time you yelled at him was like the snapping of one of your heart strings. But despite that tightness in your chest, he needed to know how much this affected you. Whether you liked it or not.

Calum stays quiet for a moment, seemingly nervous to say the wrong thing or misstep. He was always so cautious with you, never picking a fight. Even though you’ve picked many.

"Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" He asks, squatting down to be level with your sunken face.

"No."

"I could… run you a bath?"

You shake your head. "Nuh uh."

"I could make you dinner?"

"I already ate."

When you peek out from between your fingers, you notice Calum’s lips pushed to the side. He braces his hands on your knees, still crouching and trying to get some sort of read on your face.

He could tell you weren’t happy.

And he fucking hated that.

"Can I see that pretty face?"

That almost got a smile out of you, but you opted just to shake your head.

"I’m not sure how else to say I’m sorry, my girl." His thumb starts a cadence of soothing circles around the outside of your knees.

"Try saying it in French," you mumble, rubbing your tired eyes.

Calum sucks his teeth, "Ouch."

Growing impatient and just about ready for bed, you sit upright. Faced with Calum for the first time since he bust through the door.

His heather green flannel was slouching on his shoulders, looking beat up from the 10 hour day he’d spend working in the studio. His curls hung lowly over his big brown eyes, in desperate need of a trim.

It was taking everything inside of you not to grab his face and tell him how much you loved him, because in spite of all this, you still did.

He was an expert at pissing you off, and it only made you love him more.

"There’s my beautiful girl," he says upon seeing you, smiling meekly, still trying to get your spirits up.

"’Don’t feel it."

"Why not?"

"’Cause you piss me off."

Cal chuckles, squeezing your kneecaps and adjusting his squatted position.

"Can’t really argue with that."

The two of you stare at each other for a moment; the decorative string lights from behind your couch were twinkling in his chocolatey irises, and painting him out to be some sort of angel. His pretty cherub cheeks were still rosy from rushing around and quite frankly, it suited him.

You’ve fallen too damn hard.

"Y’know, I thought of another way to make it up to you."

"Yeah?" You quip, leaning back on the couch cushions.

"Mhm."

His hands were still lingering, moving up to massage your exposed thighs that were now catching a draft from your lack of movement. You had planned to wear this outfit on the day you told Angie you’d be there tonight. So the fact that you were still in it, yet not where you said you’d be, was making your blood boil.

"Gonna buy me back all the time I wasted getting ready for tonight?" You seethe lowly, trying not to sound too bitchy yet coming across as the bitchiest bitch in the world.

Calum frowns, his Doc Martens squeaking against the hardwood floor as he adjusts his posture, "You’re really good at that."

"Good at what?" You muse, chuckling through your nose.

"Firing the shit I pull right back at me. It’s sexy."

"Don’t try to butter me up, Cal. I know I’m sexy. Hence why it took me an hour and a half to get ready."

For some odd reason, your whiny complaints and moody comments towards Calum didn’t seem to be effecting him. They were bouncing off his puffed up chest like he was made of rubber. He was used to your incessant need to be on time, and how he was quite literally your antithesis.

But those witty remarks you kept throwing at him were one of the things he loved most about you. Which is why he kept egging you on.

"I’m really sorry, baby. I’m really sorry I wasted your time."

You try your hardest to bite back a smile, but it doesn’t go over well. "You should be."

Without another word, Calum is dropping down to his knees and suddenly, your heart is racing.

"Can I make it up to you," his hand creeps towards the hemline of your skirt, "like this?"

"I’ll consider it," you nod, trying to seem unbothered by your boyfriend’s large, weathered hands, "But what’s in it for me?"

"Trust me, baby. It’ll be all about you. You won’t have to move a muscle and I swear, on everything I love…"

His fingers stretch across the width of your thighs, prying open your legs with a wicked grin.

"… I’ll have your fuckin’ legs shaking like crazy within the next ten minutes."

Your face flushes, hands subconsciously gripping onto the couch cushions down at your sides at your boyfriend’s promise. He’s still gleaming up at you, waiting for your approval; he’s never the type to handle you without your permission.

"The journey to forgiveness is a long, winding road… But this is definitely a good start, Calum. Well done."

Despite your cool, agile reply, your heart continues to thump out of your ribcage when you see how your unnerving boyfriend reacts to the sound of his own name. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply with that smile still painted onto his cheeks.

"Keep fuckin’ talking like that. See where you end up."

You scoff playfully, "Is that a threat, Mr. Hood?"

"Not a threat, my girl… It’s a promise."

His hands are dancing dangerously close to your underwear now, having crept up your skirt without you even noticing. But you hadn’t a care in the world. You were merely turned on by the sight of him, so eager to please you. So ready for your forgiveness.

"Fuck, you’re good," you groan, letting a whimper slip past as well, "Show me how sorry you really are, then."

In no time, Calum is leaving a sultry trail of kisses up your thigh. You hiss at the feeling of his cool lips against you; having not felt them since the last time the two of you fucked. Which was about four days ago.

He had been quite busy in the studio with the band’s upcoming album, so times like these were a novelty. Not like you minded much, any quality time spent with Calum was worth a million years.

And besides, he’s damn good at it. Why tamper with an already perfect system?

"I know what I said, but can you do somethin’ for me?" Your boyfriend’s head pops up from beneath your skirt with sparkly eyes.

"Mh, depends." You reply lazily.

"Wanna hear you, baby. Wanna hear that pretty voice."

"That won’t be an issue," you smile, lifting your upper half from the couch, "You may have to earn it though…"

Calum’s eyebrow quirks, looking like he’s just about ready to wipe that catty smile right off of your face.

"Since when are you the one to give orders around here?"

You sit up even further to spit back, "Since you decided to fuck around with your boyfriends and make us miss our fucking plans."

There isn’t even an opportunity for you to say any more, since Calum had decided to grip the backs of your thighs and yank you to the edge of the couch. He lifts your legs, ripping your panties off swiftly and tossing your knees over his shoulders before you can even blink.

You gasp at the sudden dynamic change, shallow breaths barely escaping your throat as your boyfriend is now heaving as well. His once angelic brown eyes had shifted to something darker.

Somebody needed to pinch you. You must be dreaming.

"Watch that mouth," he growls lowly, that soft demeanor of his slightly peeking through his cold exterior, "Not gonna tell you again."

Your face drops, now nodding like a desperate mess.

"I don’t care how sorry I am. Good girls get their way, bad girls don’t. And we both know that, don’t we my baby?"

"Yes— yes sir."

"Gonna be good for me?"

You nod again, fingernails digging into the couch cushions as his apology has not only become something you really really wanted—

It was now something you needed.

"Please, Cal. Promise… Promise I’ll be good for you."

He smiles, and a familiar warmth settles back into the pit of your stomach as he kisses both of your knees.

"That’s my fuckin’ girl."

Sweat begins to pool across your forehead when the first kiss is planted on your inner thigh. You writhe above him, patiently waiting for his mouth to travel down to where you needed it to be.

But patience runs thin in moments like these, especially since Calum was such a fucking tease.

"Cal, baby— please…"

Another couple of kisses later and you’re still feeling unfulfilled. At this point, his head was so far deep into your skirt that you could only see the frosty tips of his unruly curls. He hears your plea, nodding slowly.

"Getting there, pretty. Getting there…"

A shock wave zaps your spine the moment he makes contact with your clit. Your body jolts, feeling the slow rhythm of his tongue toying with your sensitive bud.

"Jesus fuck—" You sigh, trying to fulfill the promise of letting him hear you while simultaneously trying to lasso your head back onto your shoulders.

Calum hums happily, which sends another wave of flutters down your body. You were so damn sensitive, and your boyfriend knew it too. But when his head was between your legs, he never seemed to think, or care about anything else.

He flattens his tongue against your dripping slit, making sure to move slowly and pay attention how long it took him to drag his tongue from one part, to the next. You’re still wriggling around, but Cal’s got his arms locked around your thighs.

You couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to.

"Just— just like that, baby… Keep— keep doing that."

The blood rushes to your head when he finds that particularly sweet spot with the tip of his tongue; he’s moaning, you’re moaning, it was like a symphony of desperate pleas. Your hands fly to meet his head, fingers getting tangled in his chocolatey curls as he starts to use his nose in cohesion with his tongue.

"Fuck me, you’re magic, Cal…"

He hums again. Of course, he agrees. He knows he’s the only one who could ever make you feel this way, and he was damn proud of it.

Apology: accepted.

But you wouldn’t tell him that.

That familiar crash of adrenaline was beginning to wash over you, your stomach began twisting in knots as each tug of Calum’s hair produced more and more pressure onto your pussy. He was chipping away at you, collecting your juices onto his tongue and savoring each and every flavor of you. By the sounds he was making, you could only assume that he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

"Cal, baby… I’m close. Gonna’ cum… gonna’ cum really soon."

You say the magic words. Your lower half was already preforming backflips at only the flick of his tongue, but that euphoria heightened when he took it upon himself to pop his head up and start using his fingers instead.

He dips one finger inside of your dripping heat, his face slicked with your wetness as he finds your eyes for the first time since he started. Your mouth hangs open, trying your hardest to keep the eye contact as he begins to speak.

"Forgive me, baby? I’m really, really, really sorry."

You nod wearily through a breathy moan, attempting to stop your eyes from rolling into the back of your head.

"Y—yes… Yes Cal, I—"

Your sentence is cut short by the feeling of a second finger entering you, curling up to brush against that sweet spot with each new stroke.

"Yes what? You forgive me? Say it like you mean it, my girl… I know you can do it."

His taunting words pull another moan from your throat. He’s still looking at you with hooded eyes, enjoying every second of watching you fall apart. You weren’t sure what had gotten into your sweet boy tonight, but you definitely didn’t mind it.

"Yes. Yes, baby— I— I forgive you," you breathe, that swirling feeling in the pit of your stomach ready to burst, "I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you…"

Calum nods, his teeth sunk deeply into his bottom lip as he watches the obscene ways of your impending orgasm. If he was more honest with himself, your face alone could’ve had him coming on the spot. But he would never admit that. You always came first.

"Yeah? You mean it?" He asks another question. You swore this was some sort of game.

"Yes baby, I— I mean it—!"

Your breathing picks up, Calum’s fingers now moving a bit sloppily, yet keeping that steady rhythm that was driving you up the walls. The pressure building in your lower half was unfamiliar, drawing quick confusion out of you mere seconds before your orgasm.

"Cal, wait— I—"

Alarm bells were blaring in your head, now that Calum had taken his other, freer hand to press his palm flat onto your stomach. He knew what was coming, but you didn’t have a clue.

"Let it go for me, my girl. Let me hear it. Fuckin’ give it t’ me."

Not only does your orgasm rip through your body like a whip cracking down onto pavement, a new sensation was felt the moment Cal told you to let go. A spurt of wetness coats his fingers and the lower half of his face, bringing you to immediately go stark white.

Your chest is heaving, coming down from the high that your boyfriend had just whipped you through. He beat the clock and kept his promise, that’s for damn sure.

"What just— what the fuck. What the fuck, Cal?" You giggle through the comedown, watching Calum triumphantly admire his digits that were now soaked with you. The feeling of you. The taste of you.

"Think you just accepted my apology in more ways than one, baby," your beau chuckles, wiping his face with the back of his fist.

"I can’t believe I just did that," you mumble meekly, now slightly self-conscious as you realized what had just occurred.

Calum scoffs with a shrug, "I can, are you kidding? I knew you had it in you. And all it took was me fucking up to get it out."

"Don’t put it like that," you cringe, scrunching your nose, "Makes it weird."

Calum then begins a slow rhythm of massaging your thighs, something he always does whenever you’re coming down from one of your highs.

"Okay. Won’t make it weird. But let me ask you this— are you still mad?"

You raise your eyebrows, still flustered, watching him lean upward to rest his elbows on your legs. His flannel was in a disarray, as were his curls; you were so wrapped up in admiring him that the thought of anger never even crossed your mind.

"Mad about what?" you ask innocently.

"Mhm," he hums, before leaning in to peck you gently on the lips, "Exactly."

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#calum 5sos #calum hood smut #5sos smut #5sos fanfic #5 seconds of summer #soupster requests #5sos #calum hood #calum hood fanfic

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everestica · 10 months ago

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How some of my favorite characters celebrate your birthday in honor of my birthday today!

Furina

So Excited, she loves decorating for it and trying to find a really good gift for you. Luckily for her being the past Archon has its perks and she can basically go anywhere and get anything, though it might be hard avoiding you the whole day so she will say she's sick and then throw a huge party for you and by huge I mean just the two of you! Even so she always somehow knows what you like and what one of the best gifts to get you is.

Dazai Osamu

Loves when it’s your birthday, and loves the birthday pranks he can pull at you when you're at the agency. But no worries he will always have a surprise towards the end of the day, you always end up having 2 kinda parties, one at the agency, and one when you get home with Dazai. He’s a smart man and he can basically read your mind sometimes and always knows the perfect gift to get you, even if you never mention it to him.

Tachihara Michizou

He’s normally pretty busy on your birthday but as soon as he gets home he would love to just have some one on one time so that he can really celebrate you, probably has things that he got for you over the year tucked away in his closet, and always ends up having a bunch of stuff that he thinks you’ll like! At least tries to remember what you like to do/what you like to eat for desserts and stuff on your birthday so it will be more of a surprise for you when you see it sitting on the table.

Blade

Says he hates birthdays and any sort of celebration when it comes to anybody else but will celebrate it behind closed doors. All those times that Kafka and Silverwolf go shopping in different places, he is too, but he’s just getting small things that will end up being for some sort of holiday, but by the time it is christmas or your birthday he always has quite a few little things so he tries to separate them evenly between the holidays, especially if your birthday is close to the holidays! If Kafka and Silverwolf ever find out he’ll never hear the end of it. (And he always says he never has a favorite, we all know that’s a lie)

Firefly (Penacony Spoilers!!)

THIS GIRL!<33333 I love her so much if you can’t tell. Anyway, She doesn't come from a lot and doesn’t have a lot, so instead she celebrates your birthday by taking you around Penacony and taking you to her special spot where you guys just talk for hours. She prefers more quality time when it comes to showing her love anyway, so it’s a win win. Though she will have a small dessert and some small gifts for your birthday, She gets things that mean a lot to you or you have mentioned, though most of your gifts are also symbols of dates, or when you met.

Lilia (In honor of him saying happy birthday to me this year)

Lilia has celebrated a lot of birthdays in his life, but yours is always a little different. Of course he has to start the day by scaring you in some way, he wouldn’t be Lilia if he didn’t! Diasomnia by this point has already all said Happy Birthday by this point. Another person who has collected things throughout the year and likes to give them to you, some you might not know what they are and when you do figure it out it may or may not be like 200 years older than you, it is fun to see what you end up getting for your birthday though!

Ruggie

It’s more or less really just a gift from Leona with him, but this is also the only time he will share his food with you! He also has experience in the kitchen so he is able to basically make anything that you would want to eat for your birthday, so don’t be surprised if when you get back to your dorm there's a little cake or something sitting on your table and him sitting next to it, covered in flour. His gifts though, again will be smaller things that he probably collected, only a couple things will actually be money bought and it’s leona’s money, but it’s the thought that counts with him.

Luke Pearce

Another one who loves your birthday, and also, Like Firefly, likes more quality time when celebrating. So instead, he loves traveling and will let you pick the place you go and you’ll have a whole trip planned for your birthday or a couple days later! When it comes to actual gifts he will find things on the trip that he thinks that you’ll really like from past conversations. You once mentioned that you liked snowglobes like 7 months ago? Somehow he remembers that and now you have a cute little snowglobe from wherever you traveled too!

♫ - Please if you are going to repost any of my works anywhere else, ask permission first! There will be almost a 100% chance that I will say yes as long as you just ask and give credit! Thank you for your understanding!

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demonslayedher · 8 months ago

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Nerdy cultural details about the Hashira

Some details can be hard to pick up without context or in translation. Here's a handful for fun:

Breath names:

The "Mushi" (蟲) of "Mushibashira" (蟲柱) does not necessarily mean "insect." It's also not the more commonly used "mushi" kanji (虫). Kanji is often formed with many components compounding together to make new meanings, and 蟲 is a crowd of three 虫. While it might be tempting to simply say that this is a whole bunch of 虫, I've also heard this described as 蟲 being the more abstract idea of the concrete 虫, or that 蟲 went through a resurgence in popularity shortly before the Taisho Period. 虫 is preferred nowadays for its simplicity.

In either case, it's not necessarily "insects." Rather than being limited to six-legged creatures, "mushi" is a catch-all term for many kinds of creepy-crawlies that simply do not fit in other categories of animals, so spiders and centipedes and worms are all part of it. Actually, the term was originally used for snakes!

Next, what are picturing when you hear "Stone Hashira"? Something in your hands that you can throw? A big stone to lay on for warmth after training in a waterfall?

You could think even bigger than that, because the "stone" kanji used is "iwa" 岩. This is usually something at least as big as the boulders Himejima pushes around to train with, but it could just as well be a whole cliff.

So then how about that issue raised about how you can never refer to "Flame Breath" as "Fire Breath"? This might be a review since it gets brought up a lot, but it's worth restating because it makes a lot of sense in context.

First, we have two kanji to work with: 炎 for flames, and 火 for fire. To make a long linguistic history short, Japan adopted written pictographic characters from China, smashed and smooshed them around to fit the spoken Japanese language, and eventually many kanji wound up with multiple pronunciations. Case in point, 炎 is "hono'o" in the context of Flame Breathing (Hono'o no Kokyuu), and "en" in the context of "Flame Hashira" (En-bashira).

火 likewise has multiple pronunciations, but a common one is "hi." Another simple kanji that can be read "hi" is 日, the sun.

Therefore, even if they are written differently, "Sun Breathing" and "Fire Breathing" would sound the same, as "Hi no Kokyuu." This also makes it easy for "Hinokami" to be construed as "Fire God" instead of "Sun God." But why stop there, really? If you want to get into older Japanese, sometimes phonetic "hi" was used in simple reference to the power of gods.

Symbolism:

This is still somewhat linguistic rather than symbolic, but you know how Sound Breath is derived from Thunder Breath?

It's worth pointing out that "Kaminari" (雷) in "Kaminari no Kokyuu" is in reference to the sound, as opposed to something like "Ikazuchi no Kokyuu" for "Lightning Breath" in reference to the sight. We can get really, really nerdy about Japanese words for thunder and lightning and how they relate to Kimetsu no Yaiba, so I already did that here.

What's more interesting to me in regard to Sound Breath is that it takes the "sound" concept of thunder and pushes it--this time with a bit of a firework motif, again in a way that would stress the sound instead of the dazzling light. Both Uzui and Zenitsu have exceptional hearing and are exceptional users of their Breath techniques, so this is either curious that a discerning sense of hearing might help, or ironic that they use such loud styles with their sensitive ears.

Moving on to snakes! There's really no shortage of serpent symbolism, so we'll just focus on a handful of examples. I have already written extensively about the positive associations snakes have with riches, especially white snakes. This is ironic, given Iguro's distasteful paste driven by riches.

Some of the other positive associations with snakes are that they are a water element animal on the geomancy system borrowed from China. Makes sense that this Breath would be derived from Water Breathing! There are many shrines dedicated to snakes and their gifts of rain and clean water, however, water can also be dangerous. A common interpretation of a major legend about an eight-headed giant serpent, the Yamata-no-Orochi, is that it symbolizes the destructive power of a flooded river. But hey, at least snakes are often equated to dragons for having the same water association, so that's pretty cool.

Setting aside the water association, the serpent itself can likewise be considered in negative lights. In the centuries leading up to the Taisho Period, it became commonplace in Buddhist teachings and entertainment to compare jealous women to snakes. This association with woman also adds another layer of cruel irony to Iguro's past.

On a happier note, let's move on to cherry blossoms!

Well, not always happy, seeing as they are known to scatter tragically soon (I am shaking my fist at you, Gotouge). Cherry blossoms are also heavy with all the directions you can go in with symbolism, and I don't have any particular take on why they are part of the overall motif of the Love Hashira (see here for a little commentary on why it is "Koi" 恋 and not "Ai" 愛).

However! I do want to point out something very clever Gotouge did!

You know how Mitsuri's hand guard looks like four hearts that all meet at their pointy ends? This is actually a traditional cherry blossom motif!! Not a very common one, which is why I find it so sly.

Personal Names:

Bear with me, this section will get slightly more speculative, as names are always up to interpretation. I should know, I've done a lot of that for this series.

Remember how kanji can be read in multiple ways? Here's something simple you'd see right away in Japanese but that gets lost in translation to most other languages. Both Sanemi and Genya have 弥 as the second character in their personal name (as "mi" or "ya"). This was not the case for all their siblings, but it's cute that the two of them share it anyway.

So what does it mean? In modern kanji dictionaries, it's pretty bland: "increasingly." However, this kanji has more interesting use and associations that that. It was originally 彌, which carries more of an image of a stretched bow, or how something might go wide and disperse. As a child's name, this might include some hope that they might grow big and tall and go to great places. It is also commonly used in expressing the names of Buddhist deities in Japanese, but it is used only for the "mi" sound instead of the meaning in these cases. (Still, 弥 is one of the "Namu Amida Butsu" characters all over Himejima's haori, which also adds a little cuteness to his associations with Genya.)

So how about someone else with a name that closely matches his brother's? We get a pretty good explanation of Yuichiro (有一郎) and Muichiro (無一郎), with 有 and 無 being opposites (to exist/to not exist). While 有 might be more straightforward in wishing for Yuichiro to have all his needs met, the "mu" in "muichiro" is for "limitless/infinity/etc, etc."

But also!!

It bares distinct resemblance to a common Zen phrase, "Honraimuichimotsu" (本来無一物), with "muichimotsu" meaning "nothing exists" (and therefore, you have nothing to worry about, just be happy).

Speaking of resemblances, "Tomioka Giyuu" has two kanji in common with the name of the mangaka of Hunter x Hunter and I sometimes wonder if he was named in homage. But that is neither here nor there, and I'll just finish today by focusing on "Giyuu" (義勇).

This is pretty basic and straightforward: "loyalty/justice" and "bravery/courage." Pretty lofty. Put them back together and it's basically a set term for "heroism."

However, put it together with other terms for squads or armies, and this is the now the word for "volunteer soldier" or "volunteer army." Historically, it would continue to be used a few decades after Kimetsu no Yaiba takes place, but the decades prior, there were "Giyuutai" organized volunteer troops as well. Perhaps Giyuu had ancestors who fought as volunteer soldiers? Who knows.

#I felt like doing an info-dump #kny nerdery

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luffysinterlude · 6 months ago

Text

REMEMBER WHEN. . .

★ summary: the straw hat pirates reminisce on some fun memories while voyaging through the Grand Line.

★ warnings: chatroom au/comedic relief, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, takes place after water seven/pre thriller bark, ooc characters, use of yn + female reader in mind, flirty!yn + the crew teases yn a bit ><, zoro x reader…kinda..im biased im sorry 😞 + some things are NOT canon and i just made it up :p

★ an: hiii!! there is not enough one piece fanfic content on this app in my opinion (i feel like i’ve read almost every piece, all have been amazing), so here’s my attempt at making more!! also, i’m still pretty new to the op fandom, so some characters may be a little ooc. i’m still reading/watching thriller bark so pls bare with me! also this is a chatroom au because i don’t have access to social app anymore *cry*. anyway, please enjoy!

NOW ONLINE [9]. . .

yn: SIGHHHHHHHHHH

robin: is everything okay, yn?

chopper: yeah yn, is everything okay?

zoro: probably not

yn: just thinking

usopp: thinking about where we’ll be next? praying manifesting it isnt anywhere scary

chopper: everywhere we’ve been has been terrifying

nami: yeah usopp

nami: its like we goto hell, leave it, and then enter another part of it

nami: i think we should just start expecting the worst

zoro: maybe we should all just get a lil more stronger. starting with the blonde pervert we have as our cook

sanji: I DIDNT EVEN SAY ANYTHING YET

sanji: AND YOURE THE ONE TO TALK!

sanji: MUST I REMIND YOU THAT I LITERALLLLY JUST SAVED YOU AND USOPP AT THAT TOWER

luffy: oooooo thinking about what? tell me tell me tell me!

sanji: now, my dearest yn, please let me know if theres anyway i can assist you

zoro: she probably doesn’t want your help lmfao no offense

sanji: WHOOOO was even talking to you? I SAID YN’S NAME IN THE TEXT DAMMIT

nami: can you two idiots cut it out already? its like, i can hear your voices through my screen and i don’t like that

franky: yeah it’s actually kinda crazy i can hear you all…without actually being in your presence

chopper: soooo yn?

luffy: yeah yn what’s going on?

yn: just sitting here thinking about all of our fun adventures. like wow we actually did all of that and it was like…real life

yn: i feel like if i didnt know you guys and didn’t experience it then it wouldn’t sound real

yn: but like wow it was all real

robin: we’ve had some wild times, haven’t we?

luffy: LOL yeah that might’ve been on me

luffy: but we’ve survived this long

luffy: we’ll continue to survive because fate loves us!

nami: -.-

sanji: luffy’s right, surprisingly

sanji: sometimes i think about how fate brought us together…or atleast i think about how fate brought me nami yn and robin together

yn: watch it pretty boy

sanji: YES MA’AM

sanji: screenshotting

zoro: ignoring that dude. i think it’s amazing how we prevail every time. we get stronger without realizing

yn: i mean we did fly into the sky

yn: thats so crazy we actually like. flew. in the air. on a ship.

nami: yeah all thanks to me ;*

yn: thank u pretty i remember falling in love with you then and there

franky: WHAT THE HELL

franky: YOU GUYS FLEW IN THE AIR WITH MERRY?!

usopp: HELL YEAH MERRY FLEWWW

usopp: FRANKY YOU SHOULDVE SEEN IT

usopp: there was this gigantic whirlpool below us and everything

chopper: haha yeah that was crazy! and those giant monkeys

robin: oh! yes, the saruyama alliance. i could never forget the amount of fun i had during our time on Jaya Island

yn: robin i love u but FUNNNNNN???-?-?-!-? DID WE FORGET ABOUT THAT STUPID FOREST CRICKET HAD US GO INTO?!1? i still have nightmares of that stupid south bird and its stupid face and the way it made all those stupid bugs chase me

luffy: haha those south birds were really something else

nami: it’s funny because we had no idea what was coming next

zoro: that stupid “God” was next. what was his name again? emily? enemy….?

zoro: well shit i’ve forgot. it was somethin else though. his stupid lightning

franky: BROTHER WHAT

franky: YOU GUYS FOUGHT….A GOD?!?!1???!!!?

franky: was it like….you know…..THE GOD

chopper: not really sure what you mean but that guy enel really had some sort of crazy insane powers

chopper: him and his crazy insane priests were able to predict our moves!

robin: oh yeah. he electrocuted zoro, yn, and i.

yn: pls dont remind me TT

yn: he scares me because i feel like he somehow is still alive

yn: like what if hes reading our messages

nami: i never thought of it like that…

nami: enel if ur reading this please drop 1,000,000,000 berries down from the sky

luffy: i wish the skypeians and shandians rang the bell more often.

luffy: haha oh well! i know they’re doing just fine! :D

usopp: well thanks to yn now i’m reminscing TT

usopp: it feels like alabasta JUST happened

robin: well, we did just face the world government

robin: technically crocodile was apart of it

usopp: YEAH AND YOU WERE HIS ASSISTANT OR WHATEVER

robin: that’s the past. i had to do what i needed to do to survive. and i’m glad i was, considering i was able to find you all <3

yn: ROBINNNNNNN TT

nami: ROBINNNNN

sanji: robin i wouldve followed you to hades’ kingdom if i had to. i will always protect you (and nami and yn. the others can fend for themselves).

luffy: hahahaha i agree!! see, fate loves us

chopper: WE LOVE U ROBIN

franky: YEAH! WE LOVE SISTER ROBIN!

zoro: appreciate ya.

usopp: YEAAAA WE LOVE ROBIN!

yn: shoutout to us

yn: i love us

yn: i love being a strawhat

chopper: same!!! forever and always gonna be a strawhat!!

luffy: i love our little family!

luffy: without you all, i wouldn’t be as close as i am to reaching my dream! so thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

luffy: also sanji when is dinner gonna be ready so i know when to head back to the sunny

nami: same

nami: now i’m really reminiscing. do you guys remember when yn thought she was pregnant

usopp: i-

usopp: …

yn: NAMI

yn: alright well.

sanji: WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TT

sanji: also luffy dinner will be ready when its dinner time. its mid day. if you’re hungry i have snacks in the fridge or since you’re running around this island, find a food stand

sanji: BUT WHATTTTTT DID NAMI JUST SAY

chopper: HUUUUUUUUUUUUH

robin: what a naughty girl you are, nami. teasing yn about her “almost” pregnancy

nami: yk me! but i remember being soooooo worried only for the pregnancy test to come back negative

zoro: yn?

franky: LITTLE SIS YN…DOES THE DEED….BUT SHE LOOKS SO INNOCENT

luffy: oh wow cool sanji thanks!

luffy: also congrats yn? but where will the baby stay?

usopp: did you even read nami’s text

luffy: oh..right LOL that’s good! i can’t imagine yn having a baby. plus how are babies even made

chopper: :o

nami: …

robin: your innocence is apart of my will to live

yn: luffy TT

sanji: THROUGH LOVE! BABIES ARE MADE THROUGH LOVE!!!

luffy: oh sickkkkkk do you guys think we can make one?

yn: oh luffy TT

nami: well!

sanji: he’ll come around

luffy: LOL BRB

LUFFY has gone offline.

chopper: wonder what he’s up to

yn: probably found food like sanji told him to

zoro: yeah he kind of left the store we’re at and i have no desire to look for him right now

zoro: oh nevermind. he just went outside to buy meat from a vendor. he’s good, still in my eyesight

chopper: also

chopper: YN WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME

yn: chopper >< you were still fairly new to the crew then

yn: but this happened after we left chopper’s hometown

yn: i think i was just sick because of the crazy weather changes, plus nami has just recovered and didn’t want anyone to be worried sick :p

zoro: why didnt you tell me?

zoro: you’re apart of the crew too, ya know.

usopp: interesting

sanji: you stupid ass MOSSHEAD WHY WOULD SHE TELL YOU HER BUSINESS

nami: sigh

nami: its like the most obvious thing ever

robin: i’m afraid it just isn’t clicking for him.

yn: it’s not like i didn’t wanna tell you

zoro: okay so why didn’t you

sanji: WATCH HOW YOU SPEAK TO HER DUMBASS!

yn: LMFAOOO I REMEMBER WHY I DIDNT TELL YOU

yn: YOU GOT LOST AS SOON AS WE GOT TO ALABASTA

yn: and by time i found you, i had already forgotten that i thought i was pregnant because there was a whole warlord wanting us dead so

zoro: hmm. okay. well next time..

sanji: YOU DIDNT HAVE TO EXPLAIN TO HIM YN YOURE BETTER THAN HIM IN EVERY WAY

zoro: if you ever need a safe space. you know.

yn: hehe yes i do. but i apologize for not telling you as soon as i felt…different. it’s just that we’ll always have bigger issues to worry about

franky: ummmm are we interrupting something

zoro: hm

zoro: nah. yn and i will talk later when we see each other.

zoro: for now i’m thinkin about that time luffy and i got beat up on jaya island. now i’m annoyed.

zoro: the principle of the matter was good but i really just had to sit there and take an ass beating when i could’ve handled the entire bar

zoro: ehhhh now i’m gonna go workout. if anyone needs me you know where to find me.

ZORO has gone offline.

yn: he left saying “you know where to find me” as if we’ll actually know

robin: i really hope he finds his way back to the sunny.

sanji: he can get lost for all i care

yn: it’s crazy that i really thought i was pregnant that one time

yn: even vivi thought so

nami: i was super worried

nami: so worried i was reading every book we had to find anything i could help you with

usopp: well i’m offended cause why didn’t you tell me i thought we were besties

yn: wellllllllll no offense but full offense, you have “i-can’t-seem-to-keep-my-mouth-shut” disease

yn: just yappin all day everyday

franky: so, sister yn, zoro huh?

sanji: DONT OFFEND HER LIKE THAT YOU IDIOT!

usopp: HEYYYYY!!!!! I WOULDVE KEPT A SECRET

sanji: yn my loveeeeee you know you could always tell me your secrets

yn: i cant lie i almost let it slip when i helped you with dinner that night

yn: but again, bigger fish to fry

sanji: screenshotted again

sanji: did you guys see that? shes flirting with me. might die

robin: hm not sure what part of that was flirting but whatever makes you happy.

nami: oooo franky’s quick

franky: it isn’t hard to tell

chopper: what’re you all talking about!!?

yn: nothing important you little cute doctor

chopper: >~< SHUT UP! >~< THAT DOESNT WORK ON ME!!

sanji: robin! nami! yn!!!! i will be going offline to go back to the sunny to make some snacks. would you ladies do me the pleasure of enjoying them? should they be ready before you all arrive?

robin: please do! surprise us this time :)

yn: hell yea sanji you know i’d never say no to you

nami: lol yes please! i’m kind of craving something sweet

sanji: OFF TO THE KITCHEN I GO!! GIVE ME AN HOUR!!

SANJI has gone offline.

yn: well now that those three are gone

yn: i worry about them a lot

yn: i feel like those three find trouble every where we go

chopper: same but we’re all like, insanely strong now!

chopper: and it’s not like we’re actively looking for trouble, sometimes we just want to chill

nami: yeah. but now, more than ever, i feel more secure

nami: like wow he’s really gonna be king of the pirates

yn: most definitely. we only ever get stronger

usopp: yeaaaaaaaaaaaaa obviously i’ve had my doubts but…

usopp: it’s never been because of luffy

robin: ever since i met you guys again on alabasta…

robin: i knew you all would give me a life worth living

yn: robin’s so sweet online it makes me want to cry

yn: well shes always sweet

franky: SISTER ROBIN TT

nami: robin, i’m curious. how did you find our ship?

robin: well it was just docked and i figured i’d finally take a rest somewhere. if you all hadn’t left alabasta by time i had woken up, then i wouldn’t have stayed. like luffy says, fate loves us.

franky: WHAAAAAT you just…..snuck on? O.O

chopper: oh yeah i remember!

chopper: i’m not gonna lie, i was a little intimidated by you at first

yn: OH HOW COULD I FORGETTTTTTTTT

yn: chopper wasn’t there when we first met robin!

nami: oh yeah!

yn: franky chopper omg like have i ever told the story of how i first fell in love with robin

usopp: OH YEAH she blew that guy’s ship up

usopp: i wonder how vivi’s doing

nami: VIVI TT i hope she’s okay

nami: but yeah i agree. i was scared shitless of robin but then she told me she got me treasure

franky: WOAH ROBIN BLEW SOMEONES SHIP UP?

robin: not entirely. he survived and thats what matters

franky: i mean i guess

franky: i was definitely intimidated by luffy when we first met. even though that was like three weeks ago

franky: i can’t lie he still sometimes intimidates me

yn: brother ur half machine

franky: YEAH BUT MOSTLY HUMAN!!!

franky: anyway sisters. you guys have to tell me more stories at dinner later i have to go refill the coke tanks, see ya!

FRANKY has gone offline.

usopp: well chat

usopp: i usually help him so i’ll be going back too

usopp: yn i’m expecting way more details later after dinner

usopp: or zoro. but preferably before you see zoro

chopper: i’ll help! girls if you need me for anything i’ll be with those two!!

yn: um…okay…? we’ll see u all later!!!

USOPP has gone offline.

CHOPPER has gone offline.

nami: and now it’s just us three

nami: sorry for bringing your pregnancy scare up

nami: i’m getting my nails done right now and i can’t really seem to remember our journeys

yn: its all good

yn: i kinda forgot about it

robin: we’ve been through so much our brains probably started to black out any unwanted memories. i’ve read that it happens

robin: and yn, i don’t blame you. i would’ve been worried sick if i was apart of the crew then. but since it’s just us…

yn: omg let us catch you up

yn: so basically..i had…with…and then…

nami: —.—

nami: she had sex with someone *cough* zoro *cough* and started puking the next morning

yn: NAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

yn: TT

nami: i definitely thought it was pregnancy

robin: silly girls. you do realize pregnancy symptoms don’t happen overnight, right?

robin: also, yn. it’s obvious. i’ve seen the way you two are always the first ones missing during our celebrations

nami: well……..yeah but

nami: we can never be TOO safe

yn: mmm if you hadn’t caught on by now then i’d be surprised

yn: i was still scared

yn: i think it was more of a “wow me and zoro actually did that and it was real”

nami: it’s just….in a forest?!-?

nami: with…HIM!!!-?-?-?-??

nami: you can have any man or woman or creature you want and you stillllllllll………….

yn: i was running on adrenaline. that dude and his stupid ass candle wax drove me insane

yn: plus you both know i kinda have a little crush on the guy

yn: i can fix him

nami: okayyyyyy whatever you say.

nami: pfttt “little” and you guys are basically dating in my head

robin: i forgot his actual name but i’m assuming you guys are talking about mr. 3

robin: ah yes his wax is quite the problem. i wonder if hes alive still

nami: i was seriously stressed out

nami: but honestly, since we’re on the topic, i’m glad i joined luffy

nami: there was this one time, yn i’m sure you remember

nami: right before going to the baratie

yn: the day we went to the baratie TT

yn: but what happened before i kinda forgot

nami: WHY’RE YOU ALWAYS FORGETTING THINGS

nami: anyway when we ran into your crazy psycho ex

yn: OMG

yn: AND HE THREATENED LUFFY

yn: AND THEN LUFFY THREW HIM INTO THE OCEAN TT

robin: oh? tell me more about this ex of yours. i’m interested

yn: he kinda followed us after luffy saved me from HIM

yn: um so basically..you know my devil fruit powers…yeah he held them over my head and threatened to tell the marines about me and

nami: it was chaos. but it was the first time i’ve seen yn in combat and it was mind blowing

robin: luffy being our life saver and our little brother

robin: what would we do without him

yn: you’re right

yn: but i think at this point, we’re all strong enough to handle our own. if i ever see my ex again i’ll beat him so bad

nami: yeah me too! cause he had the crazy audacity to ask me out after i found out what he did to you!

nami: either way, i’m just happy we’re still all together. you know since we’ve been throwing the word fate around, i’m really starting to believe it. luffy has a really good sense of knowing who should join our crew

yn: he does :’)

yn: he gave me a family

robin: well we should probably go check on the boys now. i’ll meet you all at the sunny <3

robin: come back safely.

nami: yeah!! you too robin! yn, bring us some goodies! i’ll see you both later!!

yn: I LOVE YOU GUYS BE SAFE ILL SEE YOU SOON

yn: can’t wait to see u guys again

nami: ….you saw us this morning.

ROBIN has gone offline.

NAMI has gone offline.

YN has gone offline.

CHATROOM IS NOW CLOSED [0].

NOW ONLINE [1]. . .

LUFFY is now online.

luffy: HEY GUYSSSSSSS

luffy: IM BACK

luffy: i ate some meat and came back to the shop we were at but zoro isnt here anymore so i’m wondering if you guys happen to know where he is!

luffy: ….

luffy: oh the chatroom closed

luffy: well i guess i better get back to the sunny!

luffy: hopefully my friends make it back safely! we still have more adventures to take care of

luffy: wow these things are so cool i’m just talking to myself

luffy: i wonder if i can get one on the sunny…

luffy: OH WELL

LUFFY has gone offline.

CHATROOM IS NOW CLOSED [0].

★ an [2]: ahhh!! my first work is now done ☺️ honestly this was all self indulgent because i’ve been going through some personal things and right now the strawhats are my comfort zone. i decided to make it like a big groupchat because i don’t really have any friends irl or online so this makes me feel a lil better ☺️! i hope you all enjoyed.

its a lil messy because when i first started this i was about to began Thriller Bark but as I’m typing this I’m currently on the Sabaody Archipelago arc and things are getting more exciting like omg hello mr. Trafalgar Law I’ve been waiting for your debut….

if you enjoyed this please like and reblog! maybe i’ll start writing more drabbles idk. it used to be my thing when i was still using @/krazykento and jjk used to be my comfort zone. also, if you want to be friends please don’t be shy to say anything! i’d love to make new friends!!

#luffysinterlude #one piece x reader #one piece x yn #one piece social media au #one piece text messages #one piece text message au #zoro x reader #strawhats x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x yn #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #zoro x you #ijbol #self indulgent

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dollcherray · 9 days ago

Text

ㅤㅤ౨ৎ LETS DROP THE BEAT ⟡ ݁₊ .

₊⊹ TF2 MERCS WITH LUCIO READER

౨ৎ Pst! Cherry says: hello, it's been a while, i've been feeling better these days, but to refrain from feeling burn out again, I'll keep the requests closed and write some fanfics to cope for some time, hope this is okay<3 this was inspired by @papil0nglegs , make sure to check out some of their work 🫶🏼 (little bonus at the end)

｡𖦹° Type: Romantic/platonic, fluff, headcanons, reader isn't necessarily male, just has the same abilities as Lucio but can be seen as any gender u want <3

✧₊⁺ Characters: Scout, Medic and Spy.

♡ Song: PUNK TACTICS

⟡ ݁₊ . SCOUT

౨ৎ He's very normal about you. (he's not)

౨ৎ When Scout first met you, he was already really into your style and personality itself, finally someone who could keep up with his electric self! you two were inseparable at the moment you were put together.

౨ৎ Not only Scout likes your personality as a whole, he enjoys your way of battling, he finds it fun and its refreshing to hear some other noise other than the constant screaming and chaos of the battlefield.

౨ৎ Everytime he needs healing now he'll go to you for help, Medic also thanks you almost everyday from saving him from hearing "DOC!!" in that damn boston accent everyday, all day.

౨ৎ Is amazed by your social skills and how quick you are to befriend (almost) everyone in the team, Scout himself is a social guy but you just beat him easily.

౨ৎ So he matches your energy SO MUCH, everytime you go: "Lets do this team" or something of the genre, Scout always go: "HELL YEAH!!! U KNOW!" he loves when u do that.

౨ৎ Sometimes y'all race in the middle of the battle just for the fun of it, sometimes you win, sometimes he wins, but its always fun for both of you either way.

౨ৎ "Can't stop, wont stop!" "Hey! that's my line!"

⟡ ݁₊ . MEDIC

౨ৎ He's... neutral about you.

౨ৎ While Medic thinks your way of battling weird, he is quite fond of your way of healing, it's efficient and quick, but its kind of a bummer have to keep up with you in order to heal, and keeping up with you is something only Scout can pull off.

౨ৎ This old man also thinks your boom box so annoying, everytime you're near him, he gets an headache, seriously, Medic sometimes gets angry at how "unnecessarily" loud you are, but he doesn't say anything cuz he knows you don't really care about his annoyance anyways.

౨ৎ But like i said: you have some points with him for saving him from Scout: Medic could feel himself aging 3x faster just from hearing Scout calling him.

౨ৎ Doesn't really Uber you since you're also on the healing side too, so he thinks it would be a waste, maybe he would if you asked for i but if not Medic won't even cogitate.

౨ৎ I have to say: Medic's a bit jealous of your tech and healing skills, but his pride would never allow him to admit it, usually would just try to do something alike in secret, if you catch him, doc's going to deny it to the end.

౨ৎ Medic finds you polite too, a bit too electric, but polite, even when he ends up envying your tech and whatnot... you always is positive towards the old doctor.

౨ৎ Not much to say, this man is cool with you.

౨ৎ "You ready doc?" "Let's do this mein Freund"

⟡ ݁₊ . SPY

౨ৎ Oh please stop.

౨ৎ You guys are polar opposites, while he's all sneaky and silent, you're all intense and loud, he HATES that, is it so hard for you to keep it down??

౨ৎ Sometimes he asks himself how do you even is one of the most efficient mercs, Spy thinks the way you work is so unprofessional.

౨ৎ You two have beef and it shows, everytime you two ends up interacting in the battlefield you always got some funny remark to make about him, and so does he.

౨ৎ You may or may not blow up his plan of sneaking behind enemies by making noise to startle the enemy, consequently getting him eliminated.

౨ৎ Spy is getting gray hairs just from people mentioning you, another one that always ends up with headaches because of your music, but unlike Medic he voices his annoyance, but again: you do not care, so you just mock him.

౨ৎ You also sometimes switch your healing area to speed when Spy tries to enter it to heal himself, and your little smug ass go: "We need a healer!" while spy is just 🧍🏼

౨ৎ Spy labels you the #1 stressful merc to be around now, making Scout go to 2nd place! congrats 🎉

౨ৎ "Must you always be so loud?" "not my fault you don't like music."

⟡ ݁₊ . BONUS !!

⟡ ݁₊ . Little interactions dialog you have with them<3

౨ৎ "Yo Scout, you killing it with that bat!" "And ur killing with those skates!"

౨ৎ "We need a healer!" "Very professional..."

౨ৎ "Lets pump this battlefield!" "I like your enthusiasm mein freund."

#tf2 scout #tf2 spy #medic tf2 #tf2 x reader #scout x reader #medic x reader #spy x reader #team fortress spy #team fortress scout #team fortress medic #team fortress 2 x reader #team fortress 2 #team fortress two #୨୧ cherry works

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bookwyrminspiration · 1 year ago

Text

Transcript of The Trade, the Marella KOTLC short story (Including the author introduction)

Note: OG pictures taken by Kenna!, provided by @fintan-pyren. Some words are obscured and the transcript may contain errors. Neverless, I hope this is useful to anyone who may need/want it :)

Hello, wonderful Keeper readers! Some of you might already know that I love to sneak a little something extra into the paperback versions of my books whenever I can (since I don't think hardcover readers should get to be the only ones who sometimes find fun bonuses). For those who didn't know that: surprise! :)

I knew I wanted to include a story from Marella's POV this time. Not only is she on the cover (looking fierce and fabulous!) and a fan-favorite character, but she also had some key scenes in Stellarlune that we only got to "hear" about. The Keeper books are limited to Sophie's POV, so I can only include moments where Sophie is present--and since Sophie didn't go with Marella to her meetings with Fintan, we only learn what Marella tells Sophie later. But what if there was something Marella didn't share?

Over the next few pages, you can watch one of Marella's conversations with Fintan play out in real time and hear all Marella's thoughts and reactions to what's happening. I've called this story "The Trade"--and I've worked in lots of fun little extra details (some of which might even turn out to be important later...*wink*).

For those wondering, this story is based a [sic] scene in chapter 31 of Stellarlune--and if you haven't read Stellarlune yet: SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! Reading this first will probably be confusing and will also give away a few tidbits too early. You'll be much happier if you start by reading Stellarlune and then come back here for all the Marella fun once you're done!

Happy reading! [shannon's signature]

"Ugh, I hate this place," Marella muttered, shaking the freshly fallen snowflakes out of her gilded blond hair much harder than necessary and yanking her thick velvet cape tighter around her narrow shoulders.

She said the same thing every time she had to trudge through the knee-high snowdrifts and found herself staring at the icicle-crusted entrance to the now familiar cave.

Didn't matter how many times she'd gone there--or how important her visits were. She was never not going to dread making the long, slippery trek down to Fintan's frozen cell.

The cave looked like some sort of open-mouthed snow beast waiting to devour everything in its path--which was probably intentional, since the prison was designed to be as miserable as possible.

Especially for someone like her.

The goblin guards even gave her pitying stares as they moved aside to reveal the endless icy path that wound down and down--and down a whole lot more--to a place where the tiniest glimmer of heat had long since been swallowed up by the suffocating cold.

No amount of clothing could keep Marella warm in the heart of the prison She'd actually tried wearing so many layers that she'd looked like an overstuffed gulon--and she still couldn't stop shivering. And the whole "body temperature regulation" thing wasn't exactly possible when she had to use so much concentration to make sense of Fintan's ranting.

it wasn't fair.

Everyone else got to train their special abilities in fancy rooms at Foxfire, with Mentors who weren't creepy, unstable murderers.

But they weren't Pyrokinetics.

Marella was lucky the Council was letting her use her ability at all.

They could just as easily label her Talentless, kick her out of their snobby academy, and ban her from ever sparking another flame.

Or they could decide she was too dangerous and lock her away.

in fact, Marella wouldn't have been surprised at all if the Council was already building an icy cage just for her--but the thought still made her shiver and wish she could've manifested as...

Nope.

She stopped herself from finishing that sentence.

If life had taught her anything, it was that there's no point wanting things that were never going to happen.

Instead, she focused on the thin beams of sunlight streaking through a gap in the gloomy gray clouds. The light was far from warm, but if she really concentrated, she could feel a hint of lingering heat tangled among the brightness.

She called the warmth closer and soaked it in--let it pool under her skin, pounding with her pulse, swelling with every heartbeat. Growing hotter and hotter and hotter until...

Snap!

A flick of her fingers sent a small tangle of flames sparking to life above her left palm.

"Feel better?" Linh asked as Marella let out a long, slow sigh.

Marella nodded--though she definitely could've done without the whispered that were now hissing around her head.

The flames had a soft, crackly voice. And they always made the same plea.

Feed me.

Fire craved fuel--constantly wanting more, more, more--and it would've been so easy for Marella to let the fire swell bigger and bigger and bigger.

But that was the kind of thing that would lead to a lifetime of shivering in an underground ice cube, so she forced her gaze to shift to Linh, who stood in a small, snowless circle surrounded by a halo of hovering snowflakes---none daring to touch her long silver-tipped hair or shimmery purple cape.

Marella knew how hard Linh had fought to achieve that level of control, and how tentative Linh's hold over her ability still was. But the fact Linh could stand in a sea of frozen water and do nothing except keep the falling snow from settling on her flushed pink cheeks was very...

Annoying.

Then again, everyone annoyed Marella a little.

Her dad used to call her "fiery" long before he realized how accurate that description truly was.

But it wasn't Marella's fault!

People tended to be annoying.

Especially a Hydrokinetic who was currently looking all peaceful and pretty and perfect while making snowflakes flutter and spin in intricate patterns.

That didn't mean Marella wasn't also grateful that Linh was willing to tag along to her Pyrokinetic lessons. it was nice to see a friendly face after hours of Fintan's rambling. Plus, it seemed like a good idea to have someone with water powers around while she practiced setting things on fire.

They were even finding some pretty cool ways to work together. Fire and water might be opposites--but that didn't mean they couldn't be combined. Marella had actually figured out a way to ignite Linh's rain, and she couldn't wait to use that little trick on the Neverseen--assuming those black-cloaked losers ever showed up again.

For a fearsome, unstoppable rebellion, they sure spend a lot of time hiding.

"Are you going to start by asking him about the cache or do the lesson first?" Linh asked, reminding Marella why they were there.

Marella shrugged. "Depends on Fintan's mood."

Sometimes he was already babbling about some fancy new fire trick when she arrived, as if he'd started the lesson without bothering to wait for her. Other times she couldn't get anywhere with him until she'd let him go on and on and on about how foolish the Council was, or how badly he'd been wronged, or how much he missed the feel of a flickering flame--and she didn't necessarily blame him for the last one.

Part of her wanted to hold on to her fireball forever.

Make it her smoky little pet.

Instead, she curled her fingers into a fist and snuffed it out--but she didn't let all the heat dissipate. She called a single tingling glint deeper, letting it sear through her veins and settle into her heart.

She knew it was a risky move, even with all the defenses she wrapped around it. But she couldn't bear the cold emptiness of Fintan's prison without a least a tiny fleck of warmth tucked away.

A secret spark whispering, I'm here. You're not alone.

"Okay," she said, weaving a few strands of her hair together to clam her twitchy fingers. She'd picked up the nervous habit years ago--after her mom's accident--and the tiny braids were kind of her trademark now. "i guess I should stop stalling and head down to deal with Sir Creepysparks, huh?"

Linh smiled. "Probably. Unless you want to rehearse what you're going to say."

"Nah. I'm just going to offer him an ugly flower--that doesn't exactly need a big speech. Oh, but that reminds me..."

She reached into her cape pocket and pulled out the spiky dark blue Noxflare--which looked more like a dying weed than a super-rare flower--and held it up to the guards. "Mr. Forkle already checked this before I brought it here, to make sure it's safe for me to offer to Fintan. but I figured you'd want to check it too."

"We do," they agreed in unison as one of the biggest, deadliest-looking guards took the Noxflare from Marella and brought it over to the other goblins.

A lot of mumbling about potential kindling and fire hazards followed.

Eventually, the guards decided to quick-freeze the Noxflare into a block of ice in case there was any heat stored inside.

"Whoa," Marella said when the scary guard returned with the flower-filled ice cube--which had turned out as big as her head. "How heavy is that thing?"

The guard studied Marella's skinny arms. "I can carry it for you if you'd like."

"That's probably be smart." Marella was pretty sure she'd drop it, or her fingers would freeze off during the long walk--and using telekinesis would drain her mental energy. "But can you stay out of sight? I was planning to tell Fintan he can only see his weird flower thing if he gives me access to his memories, and that's kinda ruined if there's a giant goblin holding it right next to me.

Not that it made the plan any less pointless.

Fintan was obviously going to turn her down.

He's already made it super clear that the only trade he was interested in was for his freedom--which was never going to happen.

Marella doubted a dying flower frozen in ice was suddenly going to make him be like, You know what? Who needs out of this horrible prison when I can have that!

But she was out of other ideas.

And Sophie wanted her to try the Noxflare thing, so...

Whatever.

Marella didn't care about Sophie's current power trip the way Stina did.

As long as she didn't have to be the one coming up with all the plans--or almost dying all the time--Marella was fine following orders. Especially if she got to say I told you so when they turned out to be a huge waste of time.

"Sure you don't want me to come with you?" Linh asked as Marella pulled thick gloves onto her hands. "Fintan likes me."

Marella wasn't sure if "like" was the right word, since Fintan didn't seem to like anybody. But he'd definitely been impressed with Linh.

He'd demanded to speak with "the Hydrokinetic" after Marella mentioned she practiced her pyrokinesis with Linh, so Marella had convinced the goblin guards to let Linh down into the prison. And when Fintan asked for a demonstration of Linh's ability to ensure she wouldn't "hinder his training," Linh had stirred up all the ice shards on his floor and made them rain around him like he was trapped inside a snow globe--which actually made him applaud.

Apparently, most Hydrokinetics struggled to manipulate water in its solid form, and were limited to liquid water or water vapor.

But not Linh.

Of course.

Marella was pretty sure that Linh was more powerful than any of her other friends.

"Well, if you need me, you know where to find me," Linh said as Marella forced her feet to carry her into the cave. "I'll just be here, making another snow menagerie." She flicker her wrist and wove the hovering snowflakes into a soaring alenon.

"Ugh, at least make some ugly creatures this time," Marella called over her shoulder. "I want to see a row of snow ghouls when I get back here. Or a giant Princess Purryfins!"

Linh gasped. "Princess Purryfins is not ugly! I'm going to tell her you said that!"

Marella laughed. "I'm sure you will."

She would've teased Linh more about her ridiculous obsession with her pet murcat, but the frigid air from the prison hit Marella hard, and she had to lock her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

As least she didn't have to make the journey by herself this time.

Marella could hear the scary goblin guard keeping pace several steps behind her as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim blue light cast by a series of glowing spheres dangling from the ceiling. The downward slope grew steeper with each winding curve, and Marella was always tempted to try sliding down the icy floor instead of walking--but she'd probably end up crashing into one of the weird ice thrones outside Fintan's cell. And she knew better than anyone that injuries couldn't always be healed.

Plus, the trudge gave her a chance to add extra defenses to the heat she'd tucked away in her chest.

She often wondered if Fintan had hidden a few sparks of his own when he was arrested. After all, he had to know the Council would put him on ice for the rest of eternity. Wouldn't he try to preserve what little heat he could?

But Marella had stretched out her senses a zillion different ways and never felt the slightest tingle of warmth when she was around him. So either there was nothing to find or Fintan was that good.

She had a horrible feeling it was the latter, and he was waiting for just the right moment to reveal his grand plan--but that wasn't the kind of thing she should be thinking about before having to face him.

Still, she spent the next few turn trying to figure out what she'd do if she were right.

Her feet turned numb while she plotted, and her bones were officially aching by the time the path widened-- the only warning that they were getting close to Fintan's cell.

A few curves later, his cage came into view: a stark, icy bubble in the center of a circular cavern.

The round wall was reflective on the inside, so even though Marella could see Fintan pacing along the edge of his frozen barricade, he wouldn't be able to see her until she triggered the sensor by sitting in one of the freezing thrones positioned at the only point Fintan could peer through.

He looked extra tired that day--his sky blue eyes sunken by more shadows than usual, and he kept muttering under his breath about incompetence as he tucked his messy blond hair behind his pointy ears with a bit more force than necessary.

Marella glanced back at the scary guard, making sure he'd ducked into the shadows near the back of the cell before she made her big appearance. Then she took a deep breath and pressed her hand against her heart, reaching for her secret spark of warmth one last time before plopping into the closest ice throne.

"Awwwww, looks like you missed me," she said, tossing back her hair and flashing her brightest smile.

She liked to start her visits by showing Fintan she wasn't afraid of him--even if she totally was.

But Fintan didn't glance her way.

"I'm not in the mood for games," he warned as he continued his slow march around his cell.

"Neither am I" Marella assured him, deciding that was her cue to start with the cache. She sat up taller, trying to look extra confident as she added, "But I do have an awesome trade to offer you!"

Fintan sighed. "If this is about my cache, I already told you what I'm willing to accept. Unless you're here to grant me a day of freedom--"

"I'm definitely not. But! I found something you should like even better." She paused, hoping the extra bit of anticipation would somehow make her offer should more exiting when she told him. "Noxflares!"

Fintan scrunched his slender nose. "What are Noxflares, and why would I care about them?"

Marella tilted her head, trying to tell if he was faking.

She hadn't expected him to jump around or applaud or anything--but she had expected him to at least know what Noxflares were.

Then again, his mind had been shattered and pieced back together so many times, his memories had to be in shambles--and Ancient minds tended to be a total mess anyway, since they were crammed with thousands of years of information and the past and present blurred together.

"Would it help if I told you I stopped by your old estate on my way here?" she asked, "Your garden could use some gnomish help, by the way. All the plants have turned into a giant dying tangle. But I dug around and managed to find this scraggly vine with dark pointy flowers--and I hear that plant is special to you, so I picked a few and--"

"You picked my Noxflares?" Fintan snapped, rushing to the wall of his cell and pressing his palms against the ice. "You must let me see them!"

Marella's lips curled into a huge smirk. "I thought you didn't know what they were."

Fintan gritted his teeth so hard, it sounded like cracking ice.

"Hey, I'm not saying I won't share. Buuuuuuuuuuut it'll cost you--and I'm pretty sure you can already guess what I want." She paused for another beat before she added, "Just so we're clear: I'll show you one of your Noxflares if you open your cache and show me what's inside."

Fintan's jaw tightened even more and his hands curled into fists.

But he didn't say no.

He didn't say anything--which was definitely new.

Marella had already offered him a long list of trade suggestions that she, Linh, Maruca, and Stina had all come up with--some really cool ones! And Fintan had shot down each one down before she could even finish the offer.

She couldn't believe he looked so tempted by an ugly flower.

but as the silence dragged on, Marella started to wonder if she'd misread the situation.

maybe she'd pushed him too hard--taunted him too much--and now Fintan was letting her sit there in the cold, knowing the icy throne was turning her butt and legs numb.

She was trying to decide if she could make standing up look like a power move when Fintan told her, "Fine. You have a deal--but since you're only offering one Noxflare, I'll only show you one memory."

Marella barely stopped herself from blurting out, SERIOUSLY?

"Orrrrrrrrrrrrrr," she said instead, wanting to kick herself for not bringing more Noxflares with her. The whole thing had just seemed so silly--and the first few she'd picked had crumbled to dust. But the vine had lots more flowers, so she could fix the mistake super easily. "How about I go back, grab eight more Noxflares, and then you show me all nine memories?"

Fintan grinned. "Tempting. But one Noxflare is really all I need."

Need?

Marella wasn't a fan of that wording.

But before she could ask him what he needed it for, he added, "My offer expires in ten seconds," and started counting down.

By "six" she decided that one memory was better than nothing.

"Fine," she said, pulling the cache from her pocket and holding the marble-size orb up to the light. "But you go first. How do I open this thing?"

No way was she going to risk letting him back out--especially since he probably wasn't going to be happy when he saw his precious flower was stuck in the middle of a giant ice cube.

Fintan held out his hand. "Give me the cache, and I'll open it."

Marella laughed. "Hard pass."

"Ah, but you don't have a choice. I'm the only one who can access the memories. And I need to make physical contact with the cache in order to do so."

Marella squinted at the tiny gadget.

She didn't know much about caches--aside from the fact that only Councillors used them and that each colorful inner crystal held a single Forgotten Secret. But she did know that Dex had already tried everything he could think of to open the cache and failed--and he was one of the best Technopaths ever.

"Do I need to start counting down again?" Fintan asked. "I believe we'd gotten to five..."

Marella chewed her lip. "Uh, how do I know you're not going to destroy the cache or try to hold it for ransom or something?"

Fintan's smile was colder than his cell. "You'll just have to trust me."

"Yeah, I don't see that happening."

Fintan shrugged. "Then our deal is off."

Marella rolled her eyes. "Come on. Even if I wanted to, it's not like I can open your cell door and hand the cache to you."

She wasn't even sure if his cell had a door. The wall looked like one big solid piece of ice.

"You've proven to be very resourceful during our lessons," Fintan reminded her.

"Yeah, but--"

"It's your call," he interrupted. "If you want a memory, you'll have to trust me."

She snort-laughed--but before she could get another word out, he repeated, "You'll just have to trust me." And she could tell that was the only response he was going to give.

She turned to the scary guard, who had started pacing in the shadows. "Is there a way to pass Fintan a small item?"

"Ah, you have a hidden goblin escort--I knew you were resourceful!" Fintan clapped his hands. "And yes, there is a way to pass me my cache, otherwise I wouldn't have suggested it. Any guard can open the disgraceful tube they pass my horrid, frozen bits of food through. The cache should fit nicely."

The guard gripped his sword. "I cannot allow any unauthorized item to enter his cell."

Fintan clicked his tongue. "Clearly you're not considering the fact that I've already had plenty of chances to make this trade--and turned them all down. Do you think I would do that if the cache was even remotely useful to me?"

The goblin couldn't argue with that logic.

Neither could Marella.

And when Fintan went back to counting down, she told the guard, "The Black Swan knows I've been trying to make this trade--and they're working with the Council now. No one would let me do this if they thought the cache was dangerous."

Then again, they'd never discussed the possibility of handing the cache over to Fintan--but surely someone must've considered that during all their endless talking and obsessive overplanning...right?

Besides, if anything went wrong, she could always remind them that this was Sophie's idea.

"I don't like this," the scary guard growled. But Marella gave him her I-totally-know-what-I'm-doing glare until he set the frozen Noxflare down with a particularly dramatic thud, snatched the cache, and spent an eternity squinting at the tiny crystal, spinning it all different ways. "If anything happens, my priority will be subduing the prisoner--not protecting you. Are you certain you want to take that risk?"

Marella absolutely wasn't.

But...this might be their only shot at seeing one of Fintan's Forgotten Secrets.

Plus, she had her tiny little spark buddy she could call on if she needed. Surely she could use that to...

To what?

Take down a superpowerful, much more experienced Pyrokinetic with a history of murdering poeple?

But...did she really want to wimp out?

Sophie wouldn't.

And yeah, Sophie had, like, a permanent bed in the Healing Center. But Marella was pretty sure their whole group would vote "DO IT!"

There were also a dozen other armed goblins who would rush down as backup.

And Linh could attack Fintan with her cutesy snow animals.

It'd almost be worth it to watch Fintan get swallowed up by an ice wave shaped like Princess Purryfins.

"I can handle myself," she decided, using a tone that hopefully sounded intimidating.

Fintan's gleeful laughter echoed of the ice.

The scary guard muttered something about the arrogance of elves as he reached toward the top of Fintan's frozen cell and felt around for a specific spot. A faint clicking sound followed, and a tiny round door slid open--far out of Fintan's reach.

"I can neutralize you within seconds," the guard reminded him as he held the cache up to the opening. "By numerous means. Some far more painful than others."

"Yes, I'm well aware of the absurd lengths the Council has taken to keep me contained," Fintan assured him. "But I don't plan on giving you a reason to use any of them. Not today, at least."

The guard bared his supersharp pointy teeth, and Marella wanted to shout NEVER MIND, JUST KIDDING! But she let the guard shove the cache through the tiny opening--and then it was too late to change her mind.

All she could do was watch the glass orb make its slow descent, rolling around and around and around--down some sort of invisible path etched into the wall of the cell.

Her stomach backflipped with each rotation, and she felt more than a little vomit-y when the cache dropped low enough for Fintan to catch it. But he simply held it up and studied it.

Then he coughed on it.

And sneezed on it.

"Ewwwwwww," Marella groaned when he followed that up by drooling on it. "You know, there are better ways to give it your DNA."

"Yes, I'm aware." Fintan cleared his throat and launched a slimy blob of spit at the cache. "I also know your little Technopath friend is going to ask you how I accessed the memories, so feel free to give him a detailed list." He wiped the cache dry with his fingers and then ran it through his greasy hair before sneezing and coughing on it again. "Some of these methods are vital. Some are distractions. None can be re-created without me--but it'll be fun if he tries, don't you think?"

He laughed so hard, it brought tears to his eyes, and he smeared them across the cache before sneezing and spitting on it again--making Marella very glad she had gloves to keep her hands clean once he returned the cache.

Assuming she actually got it back...

She tried to make out what he was saying when he started mumbling a bunch of stuff into the crystal, but the words were all mushed together. He also tapped the cache in so many different places that she doubted even Sophie and Keefe with their fancy photographic memories would be able to re-create the patterns. And he looked so smug as he did it all that Marella decided to look as bored as possible--which was why she was barely paying attention when the cache flared to life, projecting a small hologram of Fintan standing alone in a wide, empty field.

"Huh," Marella mumbled. "Gotta admit, I was expecting something a little more exciting than a tiny glowing Fintan in the middle of nowhere doing...nothing."

"Then you should learn to be more observant." Fintan pointed to the swaying grass around the hologram's feet, and after a few seconds, Marella realized there was a vine of blooming Noxflares. "I figured I'd show you what Noxflares can do, since you're so generously bringing one back into my life."

Marella squinted at the tiny flowers, waiting for something to happen.

And waiting.

"So...they...blow in the wind?" she asked.

Fintan sighed. "No, they do this."

The hologram of Fintan waved his arms, and all the Noxflares erupted with searing white flames.

"Yeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaah, still not seeing why this needed to be a super-hush-hush Forgotten Secret," Marella grumbled as the Fintan hologram flicked his wrist and added purple fire to the white.

Sure, the flames were pretty--but all flames were beautiful.

"Try thinking like a Pyrokinetic!" Fintan snapped. "Tell me, are there any other flowers that could remain intact under such an inferno?"

Marella couldn't think of any.

And the Noxflares still didn't burn when the Fintan hologram added yellow flames to the fiery mix.

but other than clearly being fire-resistant, Marella didn't see the Noxflares actually doing anything--and the hologram of Fintan must've been equally unimpressed.

He frowned at the flaming petals and dragged a hand down his face, mumbling "something's missing."

"Still not seeing the point of this," Marella noted. "I mean..."

Her voice trailed off as the tiny Fintan waved his arms again and blasted the Noxflares with pink flames--which made the flowers spray sparks in every direction.

The effect was breathtaking.

Kind of like the sky during the Celestial Festival.

But that still didn't necessarily scream, THIS MEMORY IS IMPORTANT.

"How come the grass isn't catching fire?" she asked, grasping for anything that might be significant. "Do the Noxflares protect it or something?"

"No, I was protecting it. A pyrokinetic should always be in control of their flames."

He sounded so smug Marella was tempted to remind him that he let five Pyrokinetics die when he tried to teach them how to call down Everblaze and they all lost control--but that would probably make him throw one of his tantrums and send her away.

She needed the cache back first--and to hopefully find something useful in this boring memory. But sadly, all Fintan's hologram did was stare blankly at the stars and mumble "something's missing" again before the image flashed away.

"That's it?" the scary guard demanded, beating Marella to the complaint.

"Yeah, so...you put on a little fire show all by yourself with some spark-shooting flowers," she added, trying to sum up what she'd seen. "You were clearly disappointed by that little show. And then you must've remembered you needed to..."

She waved her hands, cuing Fintan to fill in the blank with whatever was "missing."

But he just stood there, staring at the cache with the same glazed look he always got whenever he started rambling about the beauty of fire--and Marella wished Linh had come with her after all.

Linh could pelt him with snowballs or something to snap him out of it.

But then she realized...

"You never figured out what was missing--did you?"

Fintan blinked and met her gaze. "Noxflares are full of possibility. But they need to burn."

"That doesn't answer my question," Marella noted.

Fintan shrugged. "Context was not part of our bargain."

"yeah, because I figured when I saw the memory, it would be obvious why it's this big Forgotten Secret. How does you setting some flowers on fire and then realizing you did it wrong matter to anyone?"

"I did nothing wrong," Fintan assured her, with a particularly haughty smile--butt Marella wasn't buying it.

There was a tightness around his eyes that was way too familiar.

Her dad had that same tightness every time her mom was having one of her "bad days," and she knew exactly what it meant.

Disappointment.

Frustration.

A hint of helplessness.

So she marched over to the guard and grabbed the frozen Noxflare from the floor--too irritated to even notice how heavy the ice must've been as she hauled it back.

She plopped it in front of Fintan's cell. "Ta-da! One ugly flower, as promised--and I'm sure you're not surprised that I had to freeze it before i brought it down here."

"I'm not." Fintan dropped to his knees and gazed at the Noxflare like he was seeing a long-lost friend.

He pressed his hand against his cell, trying to get as close as he could. "Such power. Such...promise."

"Uh-huh," Marella agreed, letting his stare and stare, hoping it would help him let his guard down.

When his eyes turned a little teary, she went in for the kill.

"But there is something still missing, isn't there? That's why you saved this memory--to remind yourself to keep looking."

A whole lot of painful silence passed before Fintan slowly nodded.

Marella wanted to feel triumphant.

But all she'd done was prove the entire trade had been pointless.

There was no game-changing clue.

No dirty little secret about the past.

Certainly nothing to help them stop their enemies.

And she had a pretty strong hunch the other eight memories in the cache would be just as ridiculous.

"The answer is out there," Fintan murmured. "I can feel it. I just can't grasp it. Perhaps..."

"Perhaps?" Marella prompted when his eyes locked with hers.

Fintan stepped closer to the ice, keeping his voice low, like he didn't want the guard to hear him. "Perhaps a different Pyrokinetic is meant to find the truth. One who's already convinced the Council to trust her."

Marella laughed. "The Council doesn't trust me."

"The fact that you're here for a pyrokinesis lesson says otherwise--particularly since the lesson is with me." He started circling his cell again, mumbling under his breath and nodding. The only words Marella caught were "possible," "improvising," and "best option."

After three more times around the cell, he stopped in front of Marella again, leaning even closer to the icy wall as he whispered, "I believe it's time for me to offer a trade of my own."

"A trade," Marella repeated, not missing the way the scary guard gripped his sword.

Fintan glared at him. "This conversation is between me and my prodigy. She stands here of her own free will, shielded by who knows how many different kinds of protections--and she can leave anytime she pleases. Your presence is no longer needed."

"You still have her gadget," the guard argued.

"I suppose I do. but that can be easily remedied." Fintan set the cache on whatever invisible ledge it had slid down in the first place and gave it a good shove, sending it spinning up the path toward the top of the cell.

The guard had to scramble to catch it when it launched out of the ice bubble.

"See?" Fintan said, shifting his gaze back to Marella. "I can be trusted."

"Pretty sure the only thing I can trust is that you'll do what's best for you," Marella countered.

"As long as you get what you want, why would you care? After all, no matter what, I'm still stuck in here, aren't I?" He waved his arms around his little ice bubble, which suddenly looked way less secure than it had during her other visits. "Oh, relax--all I'm asking for is a little information."

Marella crossed her arms. "Right--and information has never gotten anyone hurt or killed."

"It's not that kind of secret. It's..." He frowned. "Honestly, I don't know what it is--and for someone my age, with my connections, that says something, doesn't it? I doubt any of the Vackers even know the full truth."

"Then how am I supposed to find it?" Marella demanded.

"As I said, you've proven to be quite resourceful. Particularly when you team up with your little friends." He scowled at the guard again before motioning her to step closer--until her ear was practically pressed up against the ice.

A voice in the back of her head kept screaming, WHY ARE YOU LISTENING TO HIM?

But...she was curious.

And there was nothing wrong with hearing his offer, was there?

Fintan's breath fogged the ice, obscuring his face as he whispered, "All I ask is that if you ever find out what's missing from the Noxflares, you share it with me."

"Why?" Marella glanced at the frozen flower, wishing she could see something more than just ugly shriveled petals.

"Because I want to know," Fintan said simply. "And because I can give you what you want in return."

"The rest of the memories in your cache," Marella clarified.

Fintan nodded. Then his lips curled into a smile. "And one other--something you've long wondered about, even though you probably don't admit it to yourself."

Marella raised one eyebrow, refusing to show any more interest than that.

Fintan cupped his hands around his mouth and pressed them to the ice before he whispered, "I know what happened to your mother."

Marella sucked in a breath.

"Yes," Fintan added. "I'm talking about her 'accident'--if we can really call it that. I know why she fell. And why her injuries were so incurable."

Marella stumbled back, collapsing into the nearest throne and hugging herself to stop her body from shaking with tremors that had nothing to do with the cold.

A tiny, terrified part of her had always thought the story she'd been told about her mom's fall hadn't totally made sense.

But everyone--everyone--was convinced it had been an accident.

Even her father.

And if it wasn't...

She leaned toward Fintan. "I don't need your games."

"Oh, this definitely isn't a game. But it's the only way you'll ever know the truth, and before you start overthinking everything, consider this: You have all the power here. Make the trade, don't make the trade--it's totally your call. You also don't have to make a decision right away. I'm trapped in this prison. I'll never find the answer on my own--and I'll never know if you find the answer unless you decide to tell me. So there's zero pressure. No one even knows we've had this conversation--and don't worry about the guard. See how frustrated he looks? That's because I made sure he only heard what I wanted him to hear. The rest is our little secret."

Our little secret.

Fintan was probably the last person she should have a secret with.

And yet...he had a point.

No one knew he'd made her this offer--and it wasn't like she'd come to any decision.

She didn't even have the information Fintan wanted anyway!

And with the way their investigations always seemed to go, she'd probably only find a whole lot more questions.

So there was really no point in telling anyone about this.

She could tell them whens he needed to.

If she needed to.

That wouldn't be wrong...would it?

It didn't feel wrong--or it wouldn't have if Fintan's smile wasn't so creepy.

"I'm not agreeing to anything," she said, wanting to make that very clear.

"You're not," Fintan assured her. "So how about we put this out of our minds and get started with our lesson? I'm sure your Hydrokinetic friend is wondering why you haven't come up to practice yet."

Linh was probably starting to worry.

She'd probably also built enough snow animals to make a frozen Sanctuary.

"Fine," Marella said, standing up and dusting ice off her cape. "What do you want me to work on today?"

"How about I teach you how to make those colored flames you saw in the memory," Fintan suggested. "You know, in case that ever comes in handy."

He winked, and the guard groaned and held out the cache to Marella. "Sound like I'm no longer needed."

"You aren't" Fintan agreed.

The guard growled--looking scarier than ever--and turned to march away. But he spun back after a few steps. "He's right that I don't know what he offered you. But I can tell you're tempted. And I hope you're smart enough to reject it. Never make a deal with someone who has nothing to lose."

"I'm not," Marella promised.

And she wasn't.

She hadn't made any decisions--except to keep this to herself. But that didn't mean anything.

She was just trying to avoid a ton of drama and arguing and having people give her advice she didn't need.

Plus, everyone has secrets.

Shoot--the great Sophie Foster had more secrets than anyone.

So it was fine.

Everything was fine.

Nothing had changed.

Time to focus on controlling her fire.

And yet, for the rest of the lesson, the tiny spark in her heart burned hotter and hotter and hotter. Whispering a new plea.

Trust me.

#kotlc #haha! did it!#it's entirely possible there are errors here. so if anyone notices one feel free to point it out so I can fix it #this isn't professional or anything #but anyway. wow that short story huh?#major win for the fandom #in my opinion #loss for my poor poor fingers though #my god #did this instead of homework

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darkhymns-fic · 4 months ago

Text

SOS

When a distorted radio signal calls Husk to Alastor's home, he doesn't expect to be facing the Queen of Hell, offering him the chance of a lifetime.

But monsters always have the brightest smiles.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters/Pairing: Alastor/Husk/Lilith Morningstar Rating: M Word Count: 8588 Mirror: AO3 Notes: Originally was just a throwaway fic I wrote on my sideblog, but then it morphed afterwards to be this unholy OT3. It was fun! I want Lilith to be devious because that is also fun. Inspired by several fanarts that are shared on the mirror, but special shout out to this art by @datchidatchi.

Husk is tired once he reaches the rickety house’s front steps, and maybe a little grumpy. His ears were still ringing from static.

He ignores the deer antlers perched over the door, like a morbid holiday wreath. But it’s both typical and so very predictable, and after weeks of this routine, Husk is barely put off by it anymore. Its winding antlers are almost like a beacon of sorts, pulsing and calling out to him as he traverses the city’s streets to Alastor’s home.

Part of the deal is to keep his boss company. Nightcaps and the sort. Husk knows it’s risky every time but the prospect of a drink is always hard to turn down. That, and his radio back at the casino is on the fritz lately, static and noise playing over the speakers in both long and short bursts that gave Husk a headache. Which probably meant Alastor wanted him over there right now instead of two hours later. Jackass.

But maybe, in some ways, Husk also craves for a little company. He’s not ready to admit that just yet.

“Boss, you in?” he calls out, pushing open the creaky door into darkness. He has his own key and everything, even though Alastor would usually just summon him without any warning. Maybe to see Husk get pissed off, or maybe because he was really that impatient. “Got your fucking radio message. Ever heard of using a phone?”

The house is evocative of the abandoned homes that are the staple of any low-budget horror flick—with rotting floorboards, cobwebs in every corner, and skull paraphernalia decorating every available surface. It had been a shock to Husk at first, but now it was just a little blasé for his tastes. He half-expects Alastor to put up creepy decorations like hanging plastic bats or wearing a witch’s hat to liven things up.

But he only sees the same thing, with the lights completely out. There’s a fireplace from across the room, the wood dry, the flames gone.

And it’s Husk’s first hint that something is wrong.

Every instinct is telling him to run, an instinct that he usually fucking listens to. After all, it’s the only damn reason he stayed alive for so long until an unfortunate slip up made him end up here in Hell. (He does not want to think about it, so he’s going to stop that right now). His foot is already half out the doorway, his wings opened up, in case something tries to grab at him from the darkness.

Instead, he stays. Instead, he walks inside the house. A sensation, a sound, pulls at him to move forward, hidden in the shadows, even as his mind is screaming at him to leave.

But he doesn’t think it’s Alastor that’s going to pounce on him in the darkness. If he did, he might have felt less afraid—mildly. But the feeling keeps moving his feet further inside the home, to hallways that sometimes shifted for his own boss’s shits and giggles. Husk lost count of how many times he would find himself in a long hallway with no doors to leave through, just for Alastor’s own amusement.

But the shadows that move around him, some of them with eyes, are frantic. The hallways keep rearranging themselves until he feels he has been traveling for miles. There’s always another door, always another deer skull hanging around, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to leave again once the home brings him to where he needs to be.

He also keeps hearing that same radio signal from before—those short and long bursts, high-pitched and keening inside his head. It makes him shiver, makes him grit his teeth, but he keeps going forward, even as the sound makes him want to rip off his ears. It’s distant, but it’s growing, and he knows he’s getting closer the further he goes deeper into this house.

At one point, he finds himself on the stairs. Old, creaking stairs that are covered in mildew, where a few steps in-between were entirely missing. He walks up them with no question, his wings fanning out to hover any missing places for his feet. The stairs seem to lead in a spiral, and then the wood slowly, almost subtly, begins to turn to metal grates. Instead of mold, there is now rust, much of it covering the railing Husk occasionally uses. It makes his claws screech against it, whenever he lets his hand place itself on it.

The radio tower is supposed to be on the other side of Pentagram City. But Alastor’s home has always been a place to rend apart reality to suit where he wanted to be, whether that’s a murky swamp or a glaring red tower where the frequency is always at an awful signal—and it was that awful signal bringing him up, always playing that same deformed patterns, over and over again.

But then, Husk finds himself at the top, and the red decor that makes up this place is almost all gone. It’s just dark, and it’s cold, and there is Alastor—

—and he’s kneeling on the floor in the middle of the room before a woman that Husk knows, because everyone knows who she is.

There are nights when Husk tries to sleep, and makes sure his damn radio is off. But he still hears singing, floating on the air, and he can’t help but admit that the voice makes him feel some sort of hope that he should have stamped out years and years ago.

She’s so tall, regal and timeless, with sleek and black horns curving from her head to tangle along her golden hair. In her hands is a chain made of a color that there is no name for. She looks over at Husk, who has just appeared from the dark like nothing, first with a curious lift of an eyebrow—and then finally a light laugh. The melodic sound of it makes his heart race, fends off exhaustion from his limbs.

But then he sees Alastor again who is on his knees, whose head is bowed, and over his neck is a manacle that is so tight—and then the chain pulls upward.

And the movement makes Alastor lift his head and there is a flash of something that’s terrified and broken, and any music that lives in Husk’s head is suddenly gone in a flash.

He makes the mistake of talking.

“What’s…going on here?” His voice doesn’t even sound like his own. The tone is tight, stripped of everything. It’s as if some part of him knows that if he breathes wrong, it’s over.

“Oh, look, Alastor. Your friend is here.” The woman finally speaks, her eyes flicking over the chained Radio Demon. His head is still turned away, and only Husk notices then that his once neat red hair is frazzled, unkempt.

At her tone, Alastor starts visibly shaking. His ears lay flat against his head, and Husk can even hear him breathe faster. “No.”

“You don’t believe me? But you must have heard him.” The woman smiles, something that Husk can still see, even in the dark. “It seems he’s finally caught us.”

Husk isn’t sure he wants to understand what she fucking means by that.

She bends down from her great height so she can place her hand over Alastor’s head—so grand that it looks as if she could crush the demon’s head with just her palm. Her fingers tap along Alastor’s cheeks, a thumb playing with his hair. “You should greet him. It’s only polite.”

And in Alastor’s voice, he hears something akin to terror. Panic. Shame. The radio filter is off completely, leaving no room for error to what Alastor feels, to what he’s experiencing.

“Wait, wait, no—”

“Now, come on.” A hand that grips the back of Alastor’s hair, and a pull of the chain that yanks him upward, enough to lift him just slightly off his knees. “Say hello.”

“Wait, stop it, I don’t-!”

And then Alastor turns.

Husk sees a face that is finally bare of every glimmer, of every facade, of every blistering smile. Alastor stares back at him, under the pressure of both the hand and chain. In his eyes, steeped in red that is now so dark, there is an awful and silent cry.

But in that silence, Husk hears something. It’s coming from deep within Alastor’s chest, the radio waves that had been missing from his vocal chords. But Husk hears it, those same long and short bursts of awful sound, all as Alastor keeps looking at him with widened eyes. Calling him.

Husk then realizes what he had been hearing over the radio back home: a corrupted form of an S.O.S signal.

He shouldn’t have answered Alastor’s call.

The next moments that come by are fuzzy in his recollection. The strange trip through Alastor’s home had made him lose touch with reality, so he isn’t sure just when his boss is suddenly back on the floor, dropped like a sack of rotting meat. He isn’t sure when the woman seemingly glides across the floor to stand in front of him, the chains having left her hands. He isn’t sure just when she looks down at him, as if she is an ancient mountain, and he is just some pathetic outcropping of mud that had somehow ended up in her shadow.

This is his fault, Husk thinks, all as he stares up at someone who held a certain type of beauty he could only call terrifying. Stupid fucking bastard. Yet, he keeps flicking a glance towards his boss, who is still on the floor, and wonders suddenly at the damp sensation he felt over his palms.

The signal stops—for now. It’s faint, like a fading heartbeat. Husk doesn’t know if this means Alastor’s given up.

He can’t look long, because the woman demands his attention. She bends down, her golden hair unfurling past her shoulders, smelling of lavender. And then, she places her hands over his cheeks, and grips.

Not hard. Not painful. In fact, it is gentle, the way her fingers travel through his fur. But Husk is so, so deeply aware of the strength in her touch. And even then, he isn’t ready for the voice that leaves her painted lips, suddenly softer than when he first saw her.

“He hasn’t been treating you well, has he?” she says. This close, her voice makes his ears flick, makes something catch inside his chest until he feels it’s going to burst open with thorns, coated in poison. “You poor thing.”

And from the floor, Husk finally hears the static crackle in the air. It’s a sound he is long used to—Alastor always made clear his displeasure with him—but the context it exists under makes it screech with something desperate.

The woman sighs. He feels her breath sift the fur over his face, and how her hold slightly lifts up his chin. “I am so sorry for his rudeness. You would think he’d know better by now.”

Don’t say anything, Husk tells himself. He swallows, worrying how she must have seen that. How she must have felt it. He doesn’t want to be in the middle of this, but it’s far too late.

Then, a soft little screech that builds up next to them, the feedback bursting with so much feedback. “Lilith, you—”

A hand leaves Husk to gesture towards Alastor. The chain whips up like a frenzied snake, diving into her palm, and she pulls.

She pulls so hard that Husk hears Alastor gag. He hears just how very, very close it had come to breaking the Radio Demon’s neck. The static flickers and explodes, sounding like some horrendous mass of angry flies. It makes Husk’s fur stand on end, but he can’t look towards Alastor, because the woman still has her hand on his cheek.

The Queen of Hell, an ancient soul that so few have ever even seen. And somehow, Alastor is fucking entangled with her.

Husk does realize something though. The hand on him, which is still cradling his cheek gently, is normal-sized. Nothing like the grand, engulfing claw that had threatened to crush Alastor’s head just moments ago. He hasn’t even seen her transform or anything of the sort.

Or maybe she just makes them see what she wants them to.

“Such a naughty boy,” she says, her eyes flicking behind her, all while Alastor struggles to breathe. The chain goes lax again, and then comes the sharp intake of breath. “And here, I thought you wanted me to meet him.” The chains clink again, just slightly, and the air vibrates from the very intensity of some unspoken threat.

“Wait—” Husk says, breaking his own promise. He whispers desperately, his hands reaching out in instinct. Maybe he’s thinking that he’d reach for the woman’s shoulders, or even for her hands, where one was still resting against his face. Instead, his claws grasp onto black fabric, and his palms meet the solidness of her knees.

At that, the woman—Lilith, Queen of Hell—smiles down at him. “Getting handsy with me now?”

Husk sweats then. Shit shit shit shit.

He thinks he can feel Alastor grinding his sharp teeth together. The sound is in his skull, worming inside his very ears. He has no idea why it’s so invasive, why it seems to live inside him like some parasite.

But maybe bound souls were always close like this.

Husk quickly lets go, but he tries to calm his heart a bit. He tries to act fucking normal, but it is getting harder to even pretend when he once again stands before her. A part of him still remembers hearing her songs over the radio frequency, and that part of him wants to get lost in it completely…

“Look, I don’t know what…all of this even is…” He vaguely gestures at the space that was the radio tower, to where his boss still lies on the floor. “But, it just doesn’t seem…”

Right? Good? He isn’t sure of the word. What does goodness have to do with anything or anyone in Hell?

“Aw, I see. How sweet.” Lilith runs a gentle thumb against his fur. She hums, a soft melody. Slightly jazzy, even. It sets something stirring in his chest. “You were worried about him. Even after all he does to you.”

Husk doesn’t like the idea that she knows anything about what he has to deal with. And yet, the way she stares down at him, still humming, makes him suspect that she knows every little detail.

Did Alastor tell her? Or did she pull it out of him?

“Well, as you can see, he’s doing just fine.” She doesn’t even turn, still smiling down at Husk. Suddenly, Alastor appears next to her, still on his knees, a hand at his throat as he rubs at the manacle over it.

He sees Alastor stiffen, eyes darting all around as he realizes he’d been taken. His grin stays on his face, but it looks so close to breaking, the sharp points of his teeth trembling in their rictus shape. Reality shifts, and to Alastor, she is a giantess with horns of obsidian and a smile that is biting, eager to draw blood.

And when she sings, it’s so easy to fall under her spell.

“You should learn to cherish your friends more. All that fame, getting to your head.” An index finger, curved like a talon, presses against the very middle of Alastor’s forehead. Right where a certain symbol was engraved, inflamed and permanent and full of rage.

But Alastor only shakes instead. His eyes fixate on that finger, on her, on the glow of the chain that lays on the floor. He smiles so wide that his lips draw back from his gums, and soon there is blood, dripping from his mouth to slide down his chin.

Husk wonders how easily it would be for Lilith to slide her fingers inside the other’s skull, picking apart brain matter. He pictures it so easily, and so suddenly, with such a ferocity to it, of viscous fluids falling around him, and shards of bone that would pierce from Alastor’s head like broken porcelain. Husk stays frozen in place, visualizing bits of meat dropping to the floor all too clearly and all too detailed. What the fuck.

It’s not like he isn’t used to seeing such violence and gore, in his everyday life, or experiencing it himself. But it had played out before him like a feature film, and who the hell had put that in his head?

Lilith laughs, her tone so low and smooth. “It’s not healthy for you.”

The signal that had been sleeping inside Husk’s head, low and dull like a building headache, is suddenly deafening.

He winces, but Alastor remains still. A deer in headlights. Suddenly very fragile, and weak, and so very small.

“Now, what do we say?”

Husk closes his eyes, but it only makes him focus on the signal even more. It echoes inside his head in those same repeating patterns, until he’s surrounded in it. He doesn’t want to hear this anymore.

“....ry.”

“You’re mumbling.” The finger presses more against the forehead, and even though Husk isn’t even looking, he can somehow see it. He can even feel it. Like he’s the one there kneeling before her and staring, and watching as the light in her eyes brighten, as the smile on her face turns so sharp.

Like he’s in Alastor’s place. Somehow. What is even fucking happening anymore?

“Again.”

Teeth that grind against each other further, filing down canines. Weakening himself for her. Husk feels the familiar weight of the manacle over his neck, and it only makes things even more confusing. This is never something he wanted to share with Alastor. He didn’t want to be here.

“I am… trying …to be apologetic—”

The finger bores down through bone, with a sickening crunch. Alastor—or Husk—gasps in pain, but still remains on his knees. Lights flash in his vision. This was death, slow and methodical. Permanent.

“Mean it,” Lilith speaks. Or sings, her tone so sweet and airy. It sounds much too beautiful for what she’s doing to him.

The finger burrows further in, like a hungry maggot. Alastor and Husk and whoever they are now are shaking, with tears in their eyes. It won’t stop until she’s satisfied. And they just want it to stop.

“I-I-I…I’m s-sorry …”

And even then, it’s said through gritted teeth.

Lilith hums, her face so close, even as her claw still digs through meat and bone like it was just a bit of dust she was cleaning up. “Now, that wasn’t so hard. Very good.” Then, she leans down to kiss him.

And it’s the moment she kisses him, or Alastor, or maybe himself still, that Husk is wrenched away back to his own body. He doesn’t feel the pain, or the softness, or anything else. Only the hand on his cheek.

She hasn’t let go of him all this time.

Alastor then slumps to the floor, breathing hard again, his ears laid flat against his head, and his antlers pulsing and threatening to grow, but just stop short. Lilith ignores him, turning back to Husk, and now petting at his ears.

“I’d like to get to know you more,” she says.

At some point in the night, Husk found himself having a drink with the Queen of Hell.

It’s something that the Hell-papers would have chewed on for a week—’Our Beautiful Queen Gives Charity to Some Drunk Loser!’ the headlines might have spun—and then keep recycling that story for weeks. But Husk isn’t one to care about someone’s certain station in this messed up landscape that was his afterlife. He’d already been an Overlord once, and those hanging from the higher rungs of the ladder didn’t always do so with style, let alone any sort of decorum. The closest he could say was any such thing was Zestial, but he’d never known the Overlord on a personal level.

And Alastor could always put on a persona when one didn’t know of his petty nature.

But as Husk is forced to sit before her, in some weird imitation that reminded him of Rosie’s little get-togethers, he has to give something to all that reputation. He has to admit to himself that he’s scared shitless by what she represents, all while still having little to no idea of who she truly is.

Except for what she has done to Alastor. And except for the songs that Husk could still recall from memory.

“You seem a little stressed,” she says to him, holding up her drink, and smiling pleasantly. It seems genuine. Or maybe it’s a trick of the light. But so little light pierced through this space—they were back in Alastor’s home in one of his second-rate nightmare parlors, with all of its stupid hunter decorations, its shoddy wallpaper, and its animal skulls that were even on the very table they were sitting at.

To the side, far off in the corner, Husk could just barely catch the shape of Alastor. Hardly any noise except for a brief crackle or two, his face just faintly lit up by the manacle on him.

“Not exactly a relaxing place, if you get my meaning.” He doesn’t even remember how they got here, but he stares over at the cup in front of him and kinda wishes he at least had some whiskey to spice it up.

…And just like that, a whiskey bottle appears, elegantly-shaped, the liquid inside looking as if it was distilled from ambrosia. The label on it is vintage, or actually, even older than that. As if Lilith has just pulled out the alcohol from a time long past, a time that she lived through.

Only one other person has ever bribed him with drinks like this.

“It’s a smooth flavor, I guarantee it.” Lilith nods, looking over at Husk with golden eyes, then takes another sip of her drink. He wonders if there’s already anything in the liquid, if it’s something that will bind him down if he dares.

“I’m good,” he says, though not without his tone becoming a little snappy. “I’d rather not be drunk for this.”

“Ohh, are you a lightweight? I wouldn’t have guessed.” She places the glass back on the table, flicks a glance towards a deer skull that had bits of cobweb stuck to the antlers. She looks at it, and hums, then turns back to Husk. “Maybe you and Luci would get along.”

In the corner, he hears another crackle. A sharp pain jams into his skull. Yeah, alright. So whatever Alastor was feeling, he was going to feel now. That was fantastic.

Husk’s tail flicks, swatting away at invisible flies. “I think meeting one of Hell’s royalty is enough to spice up my night.”

His tone is brisk, but Lilith doesn’t seem to mind. She simply lays her elbows on the table, places her chin on the top of her hands, and leans forward. “Sounds like you know how to make someone’s night very exciting.”

There’s a part of him reeling at the fact just now. The Queen of Hell is flirting with me.

And yet, there’s another part of him that wants to act like a bastard. Maybe it’s Alastor’s influence, or the ache in his head. Or maybe it’s because he hasn’t slept fuck-all since coming here.

“Oh yeah? Sure, lady, I can show you a good time…”

With a sharp-toothed grin, Husk takes the whiskey bottle that the Queen had conjured, dangling it by its neck as he holds it between two fingers. He shakes it slightly, back and forth like a metronome, then flips it up into the air above them.

It doesn’t shatter into a thousand pieces or spill. Instead, it instantly transforms into a long-stemmed rose. Husk catches it without even a blink, handing it over to Lilith. The grin on his face is tight.

“Here’s a shitty little party trick for you, your Highness. ”

He still feels kinda pissed off at that weird torture session he had the pleasure of enduring.

If Lilith is angry at his comment, she doesn’t show it. She might even have the best poker face Husk has ever seen, all as she graciously takes the rose and brushes the petals against her chin. “If this is what you can do now, I can’t wait to see you when you’re in a good mood.”

Her voice is low, a soft timbre quality to it. Almost like a purr. Husk clears his throat. It’s been a while since he’s been in this type of game, and he’s way rusty at it now.

“Listen, can we cut through this shit and tell me why I’m still here?” He doesn’t feel like being polite, or even smart. He just wants to leave. He keeps his eyes diverted, trying to look at anything in this house that is vaguely normal. The closest is a piece of lint that’s caught on the edge of the carpets. “I didn’t mean to walk in on whatever fucked up game you and the boss do. I’ll just forget it. I’m good at that.”

And when Lilith speaks again, he expects disdain, or even some kind of anger. He’s just some low-life nobody that’s talking back at what is one of the oldest beings of mankind.

Except, and here is where she is suddenly at his chair, right where his wings are laid across them. And her hands place themselves over his shoulders, and her hair falls over his face, like the gossamer strands of a frail curtain.

Except, she suddenly sounds so very sad.

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

There is no fucking way, he thinks, but as her voice is so close to his ear, it’s hard to focus on all the misgivings in him.

“And as I said before, I only want to get to know you.”

Reality shifts again.

Husk used to care, once long ago, how he presented himself. Clean-pressed suits, slick-backed fur, and his wings carefully preened so that feathers didn’t fall into the customer’s drinks. Even the occasional ‘kitty’ comment he’d endure as long as they were paying for a game at one of his tables, or were desperate for deals that he was open to negotiate on. The only messes were the occasional blood spatters on the carpets when he had to take out the trash himself, or bullet holes in his walls from those who excelled at winning the game of stupidity.

Alastor’s deal made him forget all that. What did dignity matter when one was forced to work behind the bar, or made to match his owner down to the shade of his bow tie? So he drank, and he would forget, and it was better that way.

Until Lilith is facing him, holding both of his hands, her dress covered in rhinestones, and her gloves made from black satin, the material soft against his claws. Husk looks down, and the suit he is wearing now is like a second skin he’d long forgotten he missed. Barely a thread out of place, with even his favorite designs—heart and spade next to each other—on his lapel, and his bowtie a classy shade of gold instead of stark red. His wings stretched, and they remained up instead of dragging to the ground like they mostly did these days.

A quick, furtive look around, and Husk sees them both on a stage. The audience before them is faceless, just a mass of black with bobbing heads. The lights above them are so bright, and they halo around Lilith specifically, brightening up that wonderful smile.

She lets go of his hands, and waves to the crowd. Still, she keeps her eyes on him. “You’ve always been a stage man.”

She says it like she knows him. And going by his outfit, and the fancy lights around them, she probably, actually does.

He spreads his hands wide before him, then notices the gleam of heart-shaped cufflinks just at his wrist. How did she know every detail? “Well, I’m not much of a performer anymore,” he tells her.

And suddenly, a saxophone appears in his arms, the sash already looped around his shoulder. The weight of the instrument is almost like nothing to him.

“Let me hear you play.”

Husk stares at her, then back to the instrument in his hands. His claws fell over the keys, molded for his own touch instead of just anyone else. “It’s been years.”

In Lilith’s right hand, a microphone forms out from the stage lights. She brings it close to her mouth, while her other hand reaches down to stroke Husk’s cheek. “But you haven’t forgotten.”

She’s right.

Husk isn’t immune to the allure of a beautiful woman, even if there is something behind her eyes that terrifies him, and how he still remembers the pain she had inflicted on Alastor. The ache of it still lingers inside Husk’s skull, but when she hums so sweetly into the microphone, so much of it simply washes away. The stage lights focus on her, making her dress sparkle.

He knows her songs, some of them uplifting and powerful, and others so sweet and melancholy that it drives souls to the brink of madness. It’s a coinflip to what she would sing next for that radio show, where her songs simply served as a backdrop to the array of screams.

The brief reminder makes Husk blink. Shit. Where’s Alastor? He looks around, but there is only the stage and the audience, which is only dark shapes and nothing else. They applause when Lilith begins to sing, her voice caught on the sweeping melancholy that already makes his limbs feel heavy, as if his bones were being slowly filled up by honey.

It’s a nice feeling. Almost addicting.

Husk knows he should be high-tailing it out of here, but when Lilith sings, it seems to move his limbs in other ways. His wings stretch wide, and he already presses down on the saxophone’s keys as he plays along with a song that he already knows. It doesn’t seem to matter if the lyrics she sang move through his head, losing shape and meaning, until it was just the melody itself. Maybe that’s what she wants, after all.

“You have such talent, Husk” she tells him between the verses. She says it casually, her voice showing no fatigue. She controls her notes as easily as changing into her dress. “It’s such a shame you don’t get to use it.”

A question that wrinkles the smoothness of the moment. Husk pauses on his playing, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “Lady, not that I don’t appreciate the compliment, but no one’s stopping me from just busking around.”

He really could, like the old days when he would put up small side hustles of card tricks to make a little extra cash, accompanied by playing out in the streets when he didn’t feel like grifting. Hell’s own streets weren’t always as receptive to a random show (and in some places like Cannibal Town, sometimes they were too eager) but he knew the good spots. And back in his casino heydays, he had to stop himself from going out to play old melodies on stage just for the heck of it.

Lilith only smiles at him, and then brings the mic close again, turning towards that faceless audience. Another note, one that builds higher and higher, and it pulls at his hands again to play along, to use his breath to match the beats of her own.

And it’s suddenly akin to the feeling of being pulled by the strings.

Husk can’t even will himself to stop, his thoughts becoming only filled with that music, one that writhes and lives inside him. It’s euphoric, and it’s terrifying. Isn’t it better to just play like this? A part of him says, something that doesn’t even sound like him. Husk can’t shake it away though, still not finished with the song that Lilith leads.

Don’t you want to be a freer soul?

And as the music slows, Lilith towers over him, humming the last note into the microphone. She smiles, and it’s only for him. She is a beautiful soul, decked out in lights, so bright that it blinds him. It’s almost like a dream, but he knows he’s not dreaming—only dead.

As she hums, she extends her hand, its touch silky as she grips his chin. She raises it as the spotlight rings around them both, leaving the rest of the world in darkness.

“Wouldn’t you rather make a deal with me?”

The voice in his head is her, her music repeating in his skull like a tune he can’t shake off. It’s to the point where he can’t listen to anything else. And, for a second, he almost answers her before he even knows what to say.

Then he hears it. The signals, thudding in his head, three short bursts, then three long ones.

What?

Husk blinks. The stage lights pierce right into his eyes with a terrible ache. The sound continues and it makes it all worse. Stop it. Stop it.

With a snarl, he wrenches his head out of Lilith’s reach, taking a step back.

And just like that, the stage disappears.

It’s almost like cold water is dumped on him immediately. The glitz and glamor that had been their surroundings is snuffed out, and he’s already shivering from the lack of clothes. No more of the clean-pressed suit and dazzling cufflinks, or even the shining instrument that was in his arms. Husk is back to his loose trousers and suspenders, the hat on his head nearly close to falling off him. He can’t even summon the energy to lift his wings.

Lilith, by contrast, still looks radiant as always, but there is a sharp glint in her eyes that isn’t there before. Then it moves to the right, back to a corner that is in the dark—

He hears Alastor’s static before he sees him again, a barely seen shape in the shadows. Turning to him, and his boss is glaring with eyes so brightly lit that it seems to engulf his face.

Wait, Husk thinks. Did we even leave? Has he been watching the whole time?

And then the chain that connects from Alastor’s neck is given a sharp tug that sends his boss sprawling face-first into the floor.

“That’s enough.” Lilith brings the chains to wrap around her palm, the light of it reminding Husk of the stage. “Trying to disrupt my business, after all I did for you? Now you’ve just confused the poor thing.”

The chain’s links ringing together makes Husk grit his teeth. Alastor doesn’t even say words, still on the floor and glaring poisonous daggers in their direction. Was he mad at Husk too? Fuck me, I didn’t even want to be here!

Lilith has that strange look on her face, all as she slowly twirls the chains around her fingers. Husk snaps, full of exasperation and fatigue.

“The hell was all that about before? What did you just do to me?” Husk shakes his head, trying to rid himself of whatever strange effects Lilith put on him. “Just…what are you even…?”

Stupid thing to say. He knows exactly what she is.

With those words, she shifts her attention from Alastor back to Husk, and suddenly her smile is much sweeter than before.

“I was only giving you a peek into your possible future.” Her eyelids lower, along with her voice. “If you’d like to switch deals, that is.”

Her voice sends another shiver through him, one he tries to ignore. “I’m fucking through with making any more deals.”

Like he’d risk getting another bad hand.

“Oh? But you haven’t even heard my terms,” she says.

Maybe Husk is a little more on edge than he realizes, because he stares up at her with slightly bared teeth. Or maybe, he already misses that stage more than he thought, and is angry at the thought that he left it so soon.

“No offense, lady, but if you made a deal with that whack job there, I can’t imagine one with me is much better.”

A risky glance to said whack job, but Alastor is barely looking now. His boss is still face-down on the floor, even if the static and signals are still thudding inside Husk’s skull.

“Then, let me show you at least.”

Her hands reach up to his neck, and he stiffens. He can only imagine bad things, because nothing in Hell was gentle. But her fingers only hover over him, just barely catching onto the fur, even though she has already held him and certainly knows how he feels against her touch. He doesn’t like that a part of him is almost aching for her to touch him, that a part of him wants her to sing again.

Then he feels that familiar weight of the manacle that signals his status, his fuck-ups, and his desperation—all rolled into one embarrassing accessory that he could never take off. It’s only loosely-hanging on, like an oversized collar, and it only slightly burns whenever Alastor would will it so. He expects it to burn right now, but it doesn’t, even as Alastor is right there in the corner, consumed with so much angry static that’s like flies buzzing around incessantly.

The green of the chains light up Lilith’s eyes, just for a moment, before golden irises swallow it up. She presses one finger over the manacle, sliding over it, like it was the rim of a wine glass.

“I can get rid of this for you.” She raises her eyes to meet his own. “And I would never clip your wings the way he has.”

The words are so sweet that it makes his teeth ache, and it stings right at his heart.

“It’s also such a troublesome thing for you, isn’t it? Alastor has never been so good at keeping to himself. I’ve always told him it’s bad manners.”

That, however, is not what Husk expects to hear. He stares. “What are you getting at?”

Lilith’s eyes seem to express some sort of pity, and he’s not very sure if he’s pissed at the idea or not. “The way he just drags you to him, like a child.” She then brings her hand to his forehead, a thumb rubbing a circle over it, oddly soothing. “You’re not his whipping boy. His punishment wasn’t meant for you too.”

The memory of her finger digging through bone and meat, and then leaving no trace of it at all.

Fuck, so she did know of what happened.

She holds onto Husk’s chain, but takes care to not pull at it, or even tug. He doesn’t feel any pressure at all. “I’ve always been a solo artist, but lately, my songs have felt like… they’re missing something. So I’ve been looking around lately for someone who could help with that. Alastor’s radio show can only do so much. The people want so much more.”

Husk can’t believe what he’s hearing, once he’s finally caught on. “Are you saying you just want me to be part of your band? ”

It sounds so simple and so easy—and he can’t trust it all. But then Lilith smiles down at him, and suddenly it feels like he’d be crazy to not accept the offer.

She curls her fingers around his chains, and he hears something crack. Metal snapping, slowly, one link at a time.

“I love finding those who have talent, Husk. And baby, you have it.”

The promise of freedom, and the sweet words from someone who looked like a goddess—who practically was—is enough to make Husk consider falling down to his knees and accept anything she was offering. If he was younger, he would have. If he was still an Overlord, with all the money and power at his fingertips, he still would have.

But…isn’t this just changing one leash for another?

The signal bursts again, loud and grating, breaking the spell. It’s hard to focus, and it pulls at him like nothing else, and so he has to turn to that corner, and see Alastor get up to his knees. He has to see him glare and grit his teeth, and there’s something so incredibly feral there. Inhuman. Desperate.

“You can’t have him!”

It��s just a split-second but Husk sees Lilith drop her smile before she also faces Alastor. She stands tall instead of crouching down to meet Husk’s level. For Alastor, she will only view him from up on high.

The signal keeps bleating, in time with Alastor’s boiling words.

“He’s mine.”

Husk doesn’t want to admit that the word does something to him. He’s still half-sharing a space with Alastor, feeling his rage that sends his teeth shattering from the strain of it. He can also feel how the Radio Demon is engraving that word deep in his chest, past the bones of his rib cage and squeezing painfully at his heart.

Lilith only stares, her silence so deafening that it overpowers the static until it’s fizzling out, like the hisses of a dying fire. Alastor keeps glaring and his teeth look ready to tear, but he doesn’t move.

In Lilith’s hands are two separate chains, entwined together. She wraps both different-colored links around her fingers, and seems to consider.

“You never seem to understand that what’s yours is mine. Your power. Your radio show. Your souls.” She tilts her head, golden hair cascading, the strands nearly reaching Alastor’s face by just half an inch. Distance seems to mean nothing to her, already with Alastor, with Husk. Everywhere. “You have plenty of others, don’t you?”

The signals inside Husk’s head transform into a monotone, blaring and digging further inside. It’s panicking. It’s reeling over from fear. Husk feels the urge to run over to Alastor and shake him so that he could fucking calm down and not make this all so much worse.

“Ah, but maybe…” Lilith has her smile again. She wraps the chains tighter around each other. “It’s only him, isn’t it? Oh, Al… you should take better care of those you love.”

At that, the signal is so loud, so awful, like claws slowly tearing through metal, that Husk collapses to the ground.

He just barely hears the chains clatter at his motion, but he’s already clutching his head, ears pinned down, and fur standing on end. He can’t even open his eyes. The sound is unreal. It’s torture. His head is literally going to explode into tiny bits and pieces from the sheer pain of it.

You should take better care of those you love, he hears again, and then it gets even worse. Like he was caught in a spiral and kept descending and descending, knowing there was no end to it.

Why was Alastor doing this to him?!

By then, it’s only her voice that finally saves him.

It’s faint and distant, like a far-off light through the fog. Husk feels his soul stumbling towards it, but as she sings, the pain seems to recede. It takes him a while to know that she’s holding his face again, like before, lifting him up, and humming what sounds like some sort of lullaby.

The static and the awful signal seems to disappear. He tries not to think about what that means.

Lilith bends down, and he wonders if she’s about to kiss him, the same way she did with Alastor.

“Husk…” she whispers, her lips just brushing against his pointed ear. He feels her breath across his fur. “My deal still stands. My voice, your music.”

He clasps her wrists, tightly. He shakes, and he considers.

A curious note in Lilith. “Did you change your mind then?”

He doesn’t hear anything in his head now. Only her beautiful voice, and the lingering memory of a song they played together. It should have been easy to decide. After all, how many times in the middle of the night has he wished to finally escape the means of his deal? How many times has he wished he would never see that infuriating smile of Alastor’s ever again?

Instead, Husk just holds that position, looking down. He waits, almost sure of what he would say.

“No,” he says instead.

“Hmm. I see.”

It’s not disappointment in Lilith’s tone, just acceptance. Somehow, that’s worse.

With the pain gone, Husk lets go of her, and slowly gets to his feet. He tries not to think about how he somehow keeps touching her. But then again, back in the day, he’d have done everything he could to lay his hands on someone as beautiful as she is. Even if right now, he can barely look her in the eye.

But she’s also touching him too, hands still over his cheeks. And she hasn’t let go just yet.

She’s expecting him to say something. So he does so, struggling.

“I only came here because the boss called me.” He won’t say his name right now. “I didn’t come here for deals, or to be part of some new music crew. And right now, all three of us in this room is doing none of us any fucking favors. So maybe just….” He trails off.

But there’s no polite way to tell someone to leave, especially when he’s not sure he wants her to.

He doesn’t think Lilith would hurt him, but he flinches when she leans forward again. But it’s simply to plant a kiss just over his forehead. He feels the pressure, the warmth of her mouth, the feel of her lipstick. There’s a part of him that wants to know the taste of it.

It’s blackberry, from when she kissed Alastor before. He resists the urge to lick his lips at the memory.

At both the thought and her face, Husk looks up as she smiles down at him.

“I can see why Al likes you. Such a rare kind of soul. But I really hope he takes better care of you.” Then, her voice, only for him right now. “And if he doesn’t… call me.”

Husk isn’t sure, but it almost sounds like she means it.

It’s sudden when she leaves—like a dream from an intense hangover, leaving him reeling and wanting to fall back down to his knees. Everything about her is gone; from her hands that were once on his face, to her song that’s barely an echo around him. There’s just the creepy house of Alastor, still with its grisly decor and torn-up wallpaper, its decaying stairs and its array of skulls placed on the bookshelves. No evidence at all that there had once been fancy lights once upon a time.

“God damn—” Husk stumbles, trying to keep himself from banging his head on the floor a second time. That’s it then. He’d told her to hoof it and she did. He feels a sense of relief. A sense of anxiety. A sense of unimaginable loss. Almost like she’s already taken his soul without him realizing.

And without her to even provide even a modicum of distraction, Husk hears that same stupid, godawful signal that had ruined his entire fucking night. The bursts of static are low and jarring, but faint, like the wings of an annoying, dying beetle.

Alastor is still in that corner, probably having his own pity party right about now.

Husk feels sick. He’s not in the mood to feel sympathy. Still, it comes regardless. He rubs at his face, missing the softness from before.

“ Boss, ” he calls out, pulling on the word like it’s a bad taste on his tongue.

He doesn’t get a response, Alastor still lying on the ground like some dead fawn.

“Fucking asshole, you keep calling out to me this entire time and now you won’t say a damn word!?” The dazed feeling from before is now fully gone, his anger evaporating it all. Husk goes to Alastor, kicking aside stupid cobwebs and stray bits of bone from the decorations to kneel on the floor and grab Alastor’s shoulder. Not like the fucker was going to hurt him for touching him. Not now. “You wanna explain to me why the literal Queen of Hell was even here? Christ, what did she even mean when she said you…”

Hell, he can’t even repeat it.

But Alastor just groans, lifting his head. Weak eyes flicker in their depths. But no answer.

Husk feels himself start to shake. So he shakes Alastor more for good measure. “Well?! Ya really got nothing?”

“Husker…” Alastor says, then raises an eyebrow. “So… you didn’t leave….” He then lets out a soft exhale. “That’s good.”

Maybe there’s a hint of triumph in his voice, if it hadn’t been so, so weak. Husk wants to punch him more than anything.

Still, his boss is alive and barely functioning. Alastor’s eyes slowly close again, the static fizzling out, as if a storm has finally cleared. The man passes out.

Husk shouldn’t feel glad about any of this.

“Dammit, Al. Why should I even give two fucking shits to what happens to you?” he growls out, voice trembling. “Someone finally offers me a way out after everything. I should have left. Why didn’t I leave?”

He pauses, speaking to nothing, to no one. Just the darkness of this home and an unconscious demon who has the faintest smile on his face.

“Why did you call me of all people? Niffty, Rosie…. Hell, even fucking Vox. Why me?”

But he’s not going to get an answer, no matter if his boss is awake or not.

Even so, after everything, he grabs Alastor’s shoulder, pulling him along from his pathetic position. It’s instinct almost, barely feeling anything for it. It’s not the first time Alastor would be exhausted like this, whether from going hog-wild on an Overlord killing spree, or stressing his magic to give someone a real good scare. And Husk was usually the fall back, the one to watch out for things. Reliable, Alastor had once told him. For a washed-up drunk, he’d also add.

Yet as Husk brings Alastor up, close enough to see those small antler stubs, to hear the subtle breathing, he can’t help but remember that soft hand on his cheek.

That soft hand that had also made Alastor writhe in pain.

With a held-in sigh, Husk digs a hand into his pocket. Another instinct as he determines how to carry Alastor without having him get tangled up in his wings. His claws feel out the familiar edges of his playing cards, sort of a calming habit of his—except, this one felt different.

Husk pulls out the card, its surface a gleaming white instead of the red and black of his own. On the front, there was a phone number, all written in an elegant flourish. And then, there was her name, followed by a little command. The presence of it sends a thrill through his spine. He can’t tell if it’s from excitement or fear.

Maybe the difference doesn’t really matter.

Call me.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #husk #lilith morningstar #radiohusk #radioqueen #husk/lilith ship name??#i am too tired to remember if there is one #fanfiction #one shot #also whoops just fixed the mirror link this is why i shouldnt post when im tired..

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ageofbajabule · 1 year ago

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Curtain Calls | Sam Kiszka

Sam Kiszka x F! Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (F! and M! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (WRAP IT UP PLEASE), Cockwarming

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Author’s Note: Hello my lovelies!! Here it is, the highly awaited request! Inspired by this anon, as well as having this moment included by this lovely anon. Also sorry if its poorly edited :(

Everyone was scattering around the hallways, the show was in approximately 45 minutes. Josh and Danny had already gotten their makeup done, and ready for the show. Jake had you touch up his eyeliner, and straighten out his new suit.

“Where is your brother Samuel?” You shook your head, Sam always got ready last minute. Even when it came to makeup, you were always yelling at him for being late for his makeup session.

“Probably snoozing with Rosie in the greenroom.” Jake shrugged, chuckling softly.

“Ugh…” Your feet began dragging you near his greenroom, knocking loudly. “Samuel Francis Kiszka, get your ass in the dressing room.”

Hearing a groan from the other side, “I’m coming Y/N.”

You huffed making your way to your station, everything was already set up to put his makeup on. And you had hoped he was smart enough to put his suit on, since by the time you would finish with him he would only have a few minutes till they had to be on stage.

Surely enough you hear footsteps making way to you, turning around your met by the handsome brunette. And he was indeed wearing his suit.

“Wow, you actually listened for once…” You clicked your tongue.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam sat in the chair looking at you.

“Sam I’ve been working on tour with you these past two months, how are you still forgetting to show up early enough.” You started to prime his eyes, before getting the eyeshadow palette in your hands.

“I’m sorry, I'm just still new to all of this.” He slouched a bit.

“Sit upright, I need to make this look perfect.” You poked his shoulder.

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked at you, in response you roll your eyes.

Sam always did have the younger sibling personality that everyone would talk about. Sometimes you found it utterly annoying but deep down, you found it cute about him. But he was in fact an adult, who just liked to have his childish fun antics.

The relationship between the two of you this tour had been wonderful. Anytime there was a small break between shows, he’d take you around the cities or small towns to show you his favorite places. He even had you join him on a small vacation to the Carolina’s with Rosie.

You tried to get out of it, but he was consistent with getting you to join him. And you figured if you said no, you felt that would’ve changed your relationship and made work awkward. The only reason you didn’t particularly want to go, was simply that you had feelings for Sam.

There had always been casual flirting between the two of you. But nothing more than that, in fact the one time in the green room the two of you had fallen asleep on the couch and were woken up by Jenny. She was another makeup artist for the guys, she mostly worked with Josh and Danny but you would help assist her.

Ever since then, Sam and you have talked more. Sending recipes to one another, he even taught you how to make pickles. Sam was just a kind hearted man, that you truly didn’t know how to express your feelings to him.

“So, are we going with what we’ve been doing? Or are we taking a new approach tonight?” You looked through your palette and the liquid eyeshadow you had.

“The usual…” He said softly, taking a sip of his Topo-Chico.

“You know, I really think we can get more creative…” You smiled softly, applying a layer of the glittery liquid eye shadow to put on his lids.

“You’re the mastermind here… Not me.” He chuckled softly.

“Maybe in the next show we’ll try something new. If you’re up for it that is.” You smiled at him softly.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” He smiled softly his cheeks turning a rosy tone.

You giggled softly, grabbing a palette, taking a brush and dapping it into the silver shadow. You gently apply it to his eyelids, dragging it out, blending it softly into the underlayer.

“You’re really good at this ya know?” He kept his lids closed, fearing you would scold him for opening them while you worked on his look.

“I’d hope, I didn’t go to beauty school for nothing.” You giggled softly, grabbing another silver shadow packing it onto his lid.

Earning a chuckle from him, “Hard work pays off.”

You smiled softly, finishing the rest of his eye makeup. “Should I add rhinestones?” You pulled away from his face grabbing the pack of rhinestones.

“Yeah, might as well. Can’t out-do Josh though.” He smiled softly looking in the mirror at your work.

“Josh creates his own look before even having Jenny or I do his makeup.” You giggled softly, applying makeup glue to the rhinestones applying them gently to his cheekbone.

“He likes to be prepared, I guess.” He chuckles, you smiled back to him finishing up his look with about 15 minutes left till they hit the stage.

“Well, what do you think?” You asked as you cleaned up your workspace.

He stood up, looking at himself in the mirror. “It looks great, as always Y/N.” He smiled, turning towards you, his stare focusing towards your tits.

“Sam… my eyes are up here.” You snapped your fingers at him.

“You wore that top purposely. I know you took your sweatshirt off before I came in here. Don’t act all innocent. You wanted me to stare at your tits, didn’t you?” He chuckled softly.

He knew you all too well, you always wore a light sweatshirt no matter what. Sue me is what you thought to yourself. You couldn’t deny the attraction you had towards Sam. In fact your feelings had only gotten stronger towards him after the small trip you took with him.

“No… I just got hot.”

“Uh huh… I’m sure that’s what it is.” Sam drags his finger up your thigh, moving it slowly towards your center. The one day you chose to wear a skirt to work, and he pulls that stunt.

You stop him, grabbing his wrist “You at least gotta kiss me first.”

“Say less.” Sam straightens himself, putting both hands on the side of you, pressing you up against the counter, trapping you in.

“I was-“

“Look at you stuttering angel. Don’t get nervous now.” He smirked at you.

Sam looks deep into your eyes, leaning forward. You move your head a bit. “Playing hard to get are we? Or is that you retreating because you’re scared you might like it.”

Sam goes to move away but not before you pull him in tightly for a kiss. He places a hand on your waist pulling you closer to him deepening the kiss.

That is when you hear a knock, disrupting the kiss. The two of you break apart from one another.

“5 minutes till show!” Richard yelled through the door.

“Fuck…” Sam sighed softly, resting his forehead against yours.

“You should probably go, don’t want to be late to the stage.” You giggled softly.

“Josh already was, what would the difference be if I was.” He laughed softly.

“The difference is he is vocals, and can at least sing off stage. Whereas you play the bass and should be on the stage already.” You shoved him lightly to get him towards the door.

“Don’t think this is over…” He rubbed your cheek softly with his thumb.

“I’ll be on the sides cheering for ya Sammy.” You blushed.

He smiled, pecking your lips softly before making way out of the room. You sighed softly, shaking your head. Did that really just happen?

You cleaned up your workstation, getting everything packed up to be set on the trucks before making way to the side stage to catch the next song after the opening.

The guys weren’t kidding when they said they liked to blow shit up. The shows were always electrifying and exciting. Keeping the fans on their toes for what was next. Sam running back and forth between keys and bass.

It was absolutely amazing to see them live their dreams, and of course you were to. When you had been asked to be a part of Greta’s team you were absolutely thrilled after seeing Josh’s looks for the Dreams In Gold tour, not only that Jenny had put in a request for you to be a part of the team. She had liked your technique in makeup.

After an exhilarating show, you make your way back to Sam’s dressing room with makeup remover and cleaning cloths to remove Sam’s makeup after his show. He always had you helping him as he claims he doesn’t really know what to use, or what skin care products to apply afterwards.

But you lately have been finding it to become an excuse for him to spend more time with you. And after what happened earlier this evening, there was no denying it now.

Sam came into the room, locking the door behind him pressing you against the counter immediately pressing his lips against yours.

You were taken back a bit, but wrapped your arms around his neck kissing him back hungrily. It was like you were both starved and deprived of one another.

Tangling your hands in his hair, you tugged slightly earning a groan from him. Letting you slip your tongue into his mouth, exploring it for a bit not until you felt Sam’s hard-on pressing against your thigh. Earning a moan from you. He was lengthy, and average in girth from what you could feel.

“Sammy…” You whisper against his lips, panting softly.

“Angel, please…” He said with honey in his voice.

“Don’t stop…” You blushed, kissing him again, as he reaches to pull your top off. Lifting it over your head, breaking the kiss just for a moment. He then returns back to kissing you, while groping your breasts with his hands.

Moaning into the kiss, you feel his dick throbbing against your thigh. He wanted this just as much as you did. You began to palm him through his pants, he bucked his hips forward from your touch. Causing you to giggle softly.

“Eager aren’t we?”

“I’ve been dreaming of this ever since that trip…” He muttered under his breath.

“Then I guess all this pent up sexual frustration will make this worth the while.” You smiled softly, as his hands wrapped around you back to unclasp your bra.

He ran his hands over your shoulder and down to your breasts again, massaging the one with his hand and taking the other into his mouth. He licked over the mound of your hardened nipple, sucking and biting softly. Earning nothing but words of pleasure from you.

“Sam…” His name falls off of your tongue like sugar.

He looks up at you with his brown eyes, pupils blown lust filled. You bite your lip from the sight, as he removes his mouth using his other hand to pinch your nipple softly.

“What baby…” He smiled softly.

“I need more…” You tilt your head back slowly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you angel…” He smiled, kissing your lips softly. Moving you towards the couch in the room.

Once the back of your knees hit the couch you, Sam stood above you smiling down at you softly.

“You better remove those pants, I don’t think you want to be questioned on how they got dirty…” You giggled softly tugging lightly at his satin pants.

“They get dry cleaned anyways…” He chuckled lightly, removing his pants, leaving him in his briefs. His cock strained against the fabric. You felt your breath hitch in your throat from the sight.

Sam knelt down in front of you, moving his hand over your center. You had soaked through your panties already, practically pooling in them. He ran his fingers across collecting some of the arousal.

“You already made such a mess… Should I help clean it up?” He looked up at you, placing his hand on the hem lining of your panties.

You nodded your head fervently, “Please…”

He smirked, pulling them off of you, putting it with the rest of the discarded clothes. He placed your legs above his shoulder’s his face coming close to your center. You could feel him breathing against your thighs, causing goosebumps to rise.

Sam began kissing the insides of your thighs, biting softly leaving marks behind. Your head lolled back, as he licked a strip up your center. Causing a whine to slip from your lips. He continued to lick slowly, and languidly.

Your hips bucked forward against his face, causing his nose to brush against your clit. Making another noise slip past your lips. He held your thighs tightly, getting to work quickly. He flicked his eyes up at you watching the faces you made as he ate you out. He slipped two fingers inside tightening around him, as you were already close to the brim of your first orgasm.

He started to pay more attention to your clit, sucking and licking it more than before. Earning pornagraphic sounds from you, trying to keep your voice to a minimum as to not alert anyone potentially walking by the room. You felt the band start to break.

The next head nuzzle Sam made, had been the pushing point of your orgasm. Spews of, Oh fuck, Sammy… leaving your lips as he calmed you from your high. Your legs tremble above his shoulders as he slips away placing them down.

He looked back up at you, your arousal covered his lips. “Come here, taste yourself.” You met his face kissing his lips roughly. He kissed you back, biting your lip softly.

“Tastes like sugar…” He smirked against your lips.

“Sit…” You stood up looking at him.

Sam nodded, taking a seat on the couch. You knelt before him pulling his boxers down his legs, throwing them with your pile of clothes. His dick sprung up, hitting his abdomen. He was painfully hard, throbbing and some pre-cum spilling from the tip.

You moved your hands up his thighs slowly, and wrapped your one hand around him pumping him slowly. His mouth agape, letting out a quiet groan. “Y/N…”

“Don’t worry Sammy, I’ll make you feel good.” You blushed softly.

He nodded his head, caressing your cheek with his hand acknowledging you to continue. And so you do, licking the tip slowly teasing him. He shuddered underneath you, giggling softly. You wrap your mouth around him, inching your way down as you take him in. Careful not to make yourself gag, he let out another groan.

You moved your hand downwards to Sam's balls, gently cupping your hand around them, moving them around in your hand. He huffed, his head rolling back.

“Fuck angel…” He closed his eyes, feeling you work on him.

You hummed as you continued to bob your head, swirling your tongue around his shaft. Earning praises from him as you continued your little moves, getting him closer to release.

That’s when he tapped your cheek with his fingers. “Not yet, I want to fuck that pretty cunt.”

You removed your mouth from him, a string of saliva as you continued to pump him with your hand. You straddle his waist lining yourself up with him.

“Don’t worry, I’m on the pill.” You smiled softly at him, before sinking down on his length. Gasping as he bottoms out in you.

“Like fucking velvet…” He grunts, grabbing your waist softly.

After adjusting to his length, you started to ride him slowly. Wrapping your hands around his neck, he moved his face towards your breasts paying close attention to them as you started to gain some momentum.

He latched his mouth onto your right breast, licking and sucking on your nipple. Biting softly, earning moans from you. Starting to rotate your hips in figure eights, Sam starts to moan the vibrations against your breast making you wetter.

“Shit, Sam…”

He removed his mouth from your breast, cupping your face with his one hand. “Come on baby… I know you're close.”

You nodded, starting to bounce more on his cock. Everytime you would come down, he’d meet you with a particularly hard thrust, sending you over the moon.

Sam then held your waist tighter, picking up the pace by thrusting faster and harder into you. You pressed flush against his chest, running your hands into his hair pulling slightly as pornagraphic sounds left your mouth.

You felt yourself getting closer, and by Sam’s breathing you could tell he was near as well.

“I’m so close…” You moaned into his ear quietly.

“Let go… I'm almost there. I want to feel you all around me…” He groaned softly, rubbing circles on your clit.

Within the next minute you went into overdrive. Praises flew from your mouth as you clenched around him, seeing colors as you came. “Sam…” Your head rolled back.

“That’s it baby…” He moaned softly, within a couple more thrusts that became faltered and slow. He was spilling his release into you.

The two of you sat there on the couch, chests pressed against one another. Sweaty, and panting as you both came down from your high.

“That was…”

“Exhilarating…”

You giggled softly, kissing his cheek.

“Oh, Sam… Your makeup...” You went to move, but he kept his grip on your waist keeping you from moving.

“Sam.” You looked at him.

“Just let me stay inside a little longer. You feel like home.”

As He softens inside of you. And you can’t say no to such a pretty face, so you obliged.

With his strength, that surprised you he had stood up holding you not slipping out of you. Moving over to the chair where you had the makeup wipes and remover to clean his face.

“There, now you can take care of me.” He chuckled softly.

You blushed and started to remove the makeup off of his face while you sat there as his little cock warmer….

After cleaning him up, you moved off of him, wincing from the loss of him.

“Come on, let’s shower. I’m tired.” You motioned to him.

He stood up, following you to the shower off the right of the room. Then you heard pounding on the door.

“Next time, can you do that in the goddamn hotel!” A crew member yelled.

You and Sam looked at each other busting into fits of laughter. You blushed slightly from embarrassment.

“Well… I guess we’ll have to work on that pretty girl.” He pulled you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind the two of you, pulling you in for another kiss.

Finished

Taglist-

@lyndszee @fkfearandliveyourlegend @starcatcherry @hi-hi-hello11 @myleftsock @thunderstomp-and-tequila @sinsofstardust @holybananafuck @thecoldwind @gretasfallingsky @laneygvf @sacredthefran

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van smut #gvf smut #sammy kiszka #sam x reader #sam kiszka fluff #sam kiszka x y/n #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka #sam gvf

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padfootagain · 2 years ago

Text

Morning Dance

Hi!! Here I come again with a new fic for Ben! I hope you like it! Please, let me know what you think about this cute little piece!

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Summary: You have a little bit too much fun at your friend’s party, and are very much drunk by the end of the night. How do you end up lying in Ben Barnes’ bed the next morning? You have no idea…

Warnings : none, just a lot of fluff!!! Friends to lovers.

Pairing : Ben Barnes x reader

Word Count : 3288

You would never let your friends talk you into going to one of their parties ever again.

Right at this moment, you should have been in your bed, enjoying a peaceful Sunday morning in your cosy little flat with nothing to disrupt you but the sound of birds singing outside.

But you had listened to your friends as they convinced you to come to this party one of them was hosting. It was all their fault. Because your best friend had looked at you with such puppy eyes, and she insisted and gave you only great arguments to come… Free drinks, free food, all your friends gathered in one house, including some you had not seen for quite a while.

Even Ben was attending, whom you had not seen in a long time. He was off to another country to film a show, as usual. Happy and busy life of an actor.

You had to admit that this was the final argument that made you cave in. You hadn’t seen this friend of yours for a very long time. Oh, of course you were still in touch, and spent hours on the phone together on a regular basis. But it wasn’t the same as seeing him. As hearing his voice unchanged by the phone. As seeing his handsome face without the screen freezing every ten seconds because of his or your terrible connection. As hearing his laugh ring across a room. As having him giving you a warm hug because he genuinely was so happy to see you…

…and the fact that you had a crush on him did weigh on your decision. It would have been hard to deny it.

A crush that you had kept hidden ever since it bubbled its way into your heart years ago. A crush you thought would eventually wane but remained just as strong as the months - and later on the years - went by. A crush that, maybe, turned into something a little stronger than a mere crush, but you had always refused to acknowledge that. Liking your friend this way was hard enough to deal with.

You reckoned you were not the one to blame though. Maybe, had he not been so charming, and not so annoyingly kind, and just a little bit less of an idiot in a hilarious and adorable way… maybe then you would have never developed these feelings for him.

But then again… your life could be awfully complicated sometimes.

For all these reasons, you had gone to your friend’s party the previous night. And you had had a wonderful time, you could not deny it. But then, you got a little too drunk. You crossed that thin line between ‘just above tipsy’ and ‘about to pass out’. And that was when it all went wrong.

Terribly wrong. Because you could not remember the end of the night. Because you woke up this morning with a terrible headache. Because you felt like your tongue was made of cardboard, your back was painful for some reason, and you had not even opened your eyes yet that you already felt nauseous. But also because, when you did open your eyes, rubbing away the remnants of sleep that lingered on your eyelids, you found yourself in a bedroom.

Waking up in a bed, in a bedroom… that sounded logical at first. Until you realized that this was not your bedroom. Nor your bed. And that you were not alone in this bed…

You knew where you were, and who was lying by your side, making the mattress bend slightly under his weight, letting out a regular and quiet snore that was barely audible, just loud enough to show he was still sound asleep. You knew where you were and who this man was before you turned your head to the side to look at him. You would have recognized this poster of Back to the Future hanging on this wall anywhere…

You were waking up in Ben fucking Barnes’ flat.

And not just in his flat, actually. In his BED! WITH HIM!

The realization struck you enough to make you unable to move for a rather long time. You merely stared at this stupid poster, trying to decide what to do, trying to remember what had happened, trying to figure out what his reaction would be if he suddenly woke up to see you there, by his side, in his bed…

What on earth happened during the night?

You felt the bed moving as Ben turned and when you finally detached your stare from the wall, it was only for your gaze to drown in his dark eyes.

You saw him blinking. One, twice, thrice… eyelids falling on brown irises that, in the shy golden light of morning, seemed almost black.

He stared back at you, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered. All your questions were left unanswered, and you didn’t mind. He merely stared at you, with these eyes of his that always held something happy, something gentle, something kind. You stared and got lost there, in this familiar sight.

But then, you were aware that he was smiling. You could see in the way his eyelids dropped a little more than usual that he was not fully awake yet. Awoken, and yet lost in the fogs of the first moments that followed a gentle sleep; where the world is bright and blurred and nothing is complicated yet.

For him, this, you and him in the same bed, was not complicated for now. Instead, the covers were warm and comfortable, and the light coming in through the curtains was yellow and soft, and you were pretty like this, lying by his side…

While the world was still motionless, you took your time to look at him, or rather admire him, in fact. A mess of dishevelled dark hair pressed against his pillow, stubble to colour his cheeks, and a smile that made crinkles appear at the corner of his eyes. You wanted to reach up to caress this spot above his cheekbone, to brush a fingertip against the freckle under his right eye. But you didn’t dare. It was but a passing moment, as fragile as a snowflake resting in the palm of a hand. A mere movement could pop the bubble where you had found shelter, and then it would be over. The migraine would be back, and all the questions, and the panic…

Better stay hidden there, in plain sight, for a little bit longer, for as long as Ben would let it last…

And Ben let the moment last for a long while. Because, truth was, he didn’t want to move at all. Just like you, he wanted to remain in this suspended state for a little longer.

Because… well… it didn’t happen everyday that one could wake up next to the woman they secretly loved… Better enjoy it while he could.

He was surprised you had not pushed him away yet. He expected you to freak out. Ben was pretty much certain that you had drunk too much the previous night to remember what happened after that last shot of Tequila.

You probably did not remember dancing with him on an improvised dancefloor in the middle of your friend’s kitchen. You probably did not remember the crazy moves you made, the silly faces, the disco dance, and then… then the slow dance spent swaying slowly in his arms.

He remembered though. He was driving home after the party, after all. No alcohol for him, except for one beer. He was sober while you danced as if there would be no tomorrow. He was sober when the music changed from funky to slow; from joyful to melancholic. He was sober when you stared at him for a couple of seconds, clearly hesitating, biting on your lower lip. He was sober when you took his hand without a word, wrapped your arm around his neck in silence, and danced. Slow, soft movements while holding him close. He was sober and yet barely alive as he guided your movements, breathing in your perfume, the familiar scent that he always missed whenever he travelled. A hand on your lower back, the other holding your fingers. Your breath tickling his neck, making his heart beat uncontrollably fast and all the hair on his neck stand… but in a delightful way. A way that made him long for more. He could barely breathe all along, while you swayed softly to an instrumental version of some Hozier song.

He was sober. He remembered everything.

The way the last notes died out while you were alone in this kitchen, the party raging outside while another song was played but none of you seemed to hear it. The way you were staring at each other, standing still. The way you leaned up to press your lips to his. The way you tasted of Tequila and something sweet he couldn’t identify. The way you held him close, the way he did the same. The way your two hearts pounded in your chests, so loudly they echoed through the other’s ribcage. The way he realized that this had to be what people called ‘heaven on earth’…

He remembered everything.

He was pretty sure you had forgotten though. About the dance, and the kiss, but also how you didn’t want to go home alone. How he offered to take you home and stay for a while, but you insisted on going to his place. And after that kiss, he couldn’t refuse anything to you. He would have done anything you asked. And so, he did.

You must have forgotten the way he helped you walk to his home, and to his bedroom. How you stopped him when he tried to leave, determined to sleep on the couch.

Stay with me for tonight. I don’t want you to leave.

You’re drunk, nothing will happen, Y/N.

I hope so. I trust you for that. Stay anyway. I’ve missed you.

He would have done anything you asked. And so, he did.

But then, morning came, and there you were. Awake by his side, and if he moved at all, even the smallest tremor, it would be over.

He took a deep breath, before breaking the spell. Someone had to do it, eventually. A life cannot be spent in a timeless dream…

He had barely opened his mouth to speak that a terrified spark lit up your eyes.

"So… good morning?" he spoke, his voice made hoarse by sleep.

You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times. Your eyes grew round, and the spell was broken for good. You seemed panicked by now. You sat up, pressing the covers against your chest in instinct.

"We're in the same bed,” you breathed, still staring at him. “What the fuck are we doing in the same bed?!"

Ben yawned, hiding behind a relaxed composure how his heart was a little broken by this reaction of yours.

So… your kiss was just that then. A drunken kiss made on an impulse, forgotten as quickly as it was given…

“Nothing happened, if that��s what you’re worried about,” he reassured you, still lying down.

You looked down, and indeed, you were fully clothed.

You heaved a relieved sigh.

“Thank God… I don’t remember the end of the night.”

“Yeah… not surprising, considering how drunk you were.”

“Did I throw up? Did I do something crazy?”

Was kissing your friend to be classified as crazy?

“You didn’t throw up,” Ben reassured you. “You were drunk, and didn’t want to be alone. I took you home. We fell asleep. That’s all.”

You nodded, heaving another sigh as you visibly relaxed.

“I’m sorry. Don’t know exactly what happened, but whatever I did… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Nothing too bad, you don’t have to worry.”

“Good…”

You looked at him now with so much embarrassment, he hated it. He hated it so much… He knew what was coming.

“I’d better go. I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

He meant to reassure you, but you were already on your feet before he had the chance to say anything. You fought against the nausea that shook your world as you stood up, and as soon as your feet were anchored on the solid ground again, you strode out of the room.

You wanted to escape. As fast as possible. You felt so ashamed, so embarrassed…

“You could stay for breakfast,” Ben offered from behind you.

He had gotten up in a hurry as well, following you across his apartment.

“Or at least for one of my miraculous remedies against hangover,” he joked, but his smile was nervous.

“I think I’d better go.”

“Right…”

He hesitated. Was it better to not remind you about the kiss? Was it better to let you go?

But if you remembered later on, and he hadn’t told you anything about it… wouldn’t you be mad? Would you not think then that he didn’t care about this kiss?

Because he cared. More than you could have imagined, more than he cared to acknowledge.

And maybe, as he took his final decision, he didn’t think as much about your feelings as about his own. Because perhaps you had forgotten about that kiss, but he hadn’t. He remembered everything. And the more he thought about it, the more Ben was certain that he would never be able to be merely friends with you again; not after that kiss, not after that moment you had shared.

He looked at you for a moment, motionless, standing in the middle of his hallway while you grabbed your coat and looked for your shoes. They were right there, next to his, waiting for you by the door…

“Do you really not remember anything from last night?”

You froze. You could hear something painful in his voice. Something that told you that you should have remembered… but you didn’t.

“Not after I drank that Tequila shot. Then… nothing.”

“I see…”

You turned to face him. Ben had crossed his arms before his chest, his black t-shirt revealing most of his arms, and the muscles that tensed at your answer. He clenched his jaw, looking down. You guessed that he was hesitating.

“Did something happen?”

He didn’t answer, but now you were truly worried. Because if you had done something crazy, then you preferred to know.

“What happened? Tell me.”

He heaved a sigh, but shook his head.

“It was nothing, no need to bother you with that.”

He really had wanted to be selfish for a moment, but he couldn’t. Especially not when it came to you…

“Ben… you have to tell me. I’ll remember. I always end up remembering after a while.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… I do remember the night I threw up on your shoes.”

He chuckled at that.

“That was an epic night.”

“Tell me. What did I do?”

He looked for the best way to tell you… but he didn’t know how. How could he tell you that you had kissed him. And that he had kissed you too…

“How did you remember?” he asked, his tone too neutral.

“Just… saw something that reminded me of that night.”

“So… I could make you remember….”

You frowned questioningly at him, but he had already walked into his living room. You followed his steps without understanding his actions.

He picked up his phone, seemed to be looking for something.

Music echoed, notes played on guitar strings. You frowned at him some more.

“Ben? What’s going on?”

He took his time to put down his phone, and then he turned towards you. He stared at you, with an intensity that made it impossible for you to look away. Something in his brown, almost black eyes was magnetising, a mixture of determination and something more fragile too… something that looked like fear…

He stood before you, in silence, until he offered you his open hand.

“We danced. Do you remember that?”

But you shook your head.

"Dance with me, then. Please?"

“Ben… this is mad…”

“Maybe… but maybe you’ll remember if we dance again.”

You had to yield, because he looked too determined to change his mind. Because he offered you a hand you had never refused. Because you wanted to dance with him. Always… if you could spend your life dancing in his arms, you would.

So, you had danced… but there was more to it? A dance with Ben was already a lot to take in…

Gently, he pulled you closer, and you found yourselves in the same position as the night before. Swaying gently to the same song. Your hands joined as one, your arm around his neck and his fingers resting on your lower back. And you could feel his breath against your cheek and ear and hair and it was driving you crazy…

He smelled something of wood and stars on a rainy night. You loved this scent. It felt like home…

You kept on telling yourself that you were not ready to admit your feelings for Ben, but that was a ridiculous statement, if there ever was one. Because it was obvious that you loved him. A crush… you could have laughed at yourself if you had been able to breathe properly at that moment. No… no, what you felt now, holding him close… it was so much more than a mere crush. You were in love. You were in love with him…

The song came to an end, and the air was still. Ben pulled away just enough to look at you. He studied your features, trying to guess if you remembered what had happened after this song was over the previous night…

And when you looked up at him with round eyes, he was certain that you did remember.

“You… did I… did I kiss you?” you asked after a long pause.

Slowly, he nodded.

“Yes. You did.”

“And… you didn’t… stop me?”

“No. No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

He gave you an amused smile.

“What do you think?”

You studied his features for a moment, but you were certain he wasn’t angry. He was smiling, but he was nervous too, you were sure of it.

Did that mean that…

“You feel like that too?”

Again, he nodded slowly. He raised his hand to brush his fingertips across your cheek, making your breath get caught in your throat.

“Have for a while, if I’m to be honest…” he added in a whisper. “Look… I know you were drunk. And you probably didn’t think this through but… I can’t act as if nothing happened because… something did happen. And I liked it. Actually… actually, I loved it. And I don’t want to pretend otherwise. So… I don’t know what you want to do about that but…”

But he never finished his sentence. Instead, you held his face in both your hands all of a sudden, and pulled him down to you.

And this time, as you kissed him, you would remember it fully. Hell… how could you ever forget that kind of a kiss…

When you broke apart, forehead against forehead, you were holding each other so close, it was hard to guess where your body ended and where his started.

Ben cleared his voice.

“So… does that mean that… were I to ask you out… let’s say tomorrow night…?”

“I’m free tonight, if you’re interested.”

He laughed, and you soon joined him.

“You’re always in such a rush, Y/N…”

“I bet you like that about me.”

“No, not exactly. I rather love it, I think.”

He offered you a bright smile, still holding you close.

“I’m free as well tonight. But then… maybe you could stay for breakfast, too?”

You let out a mischievous chuckle.

“And who’s in a rush now, Ben, huh?”

#ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes x you #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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