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uwuwriting · 4 years ago

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Anger issues w/ Dabi, Bakugou and Aizawa

Request: I’m the type of person who doesn’t get angry very easily but when I do I’m really scary and people back off. Can I request Dabi, Bakugou and either Shiggy or Aizawa with a girlfriend who is just like that and the first time they see her angry they are so confused like how did their quiet s/o turn into the devil. Thank you.

Lmao I’m like that as well. Big mood. People underestimate me and think they can walk all over me just because I’m polite. Bitch nah imma stab you in your sleep in 2-3 business days. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: cursing, some violence, threats *creative ones as well*

Dabi/Touya Todoroki

-Baby was the equivalent of the pikachu meme.

-You were both chillin at his place watching TV.

-Actually he was laying down, head in your lap as he played Among us on his phone while you changed channels in an attempt to find something interesting to watch.

-As you were mindlessly zapping through the channels you stumbled upon an interview with none other than the number 1 hero, Endeavor himself.

-Your finger froze over the channel button as you stared at the hero in front of you.

-You felt Dabi stiffen in your lap, his character staying still on the screen as his father’s voice bounced off the walls of the small apartment.

- “Doll could you change th-”

- “I’m thinking of retiring, yes. My family is my top priority and I would like to spend some quality time with them. Family is very imp-”

- “Shut your clown ass up!”

-The remote went flying barely missing the TV as you launched it at the hero’s face.

- “If I have to hear any more bullshit coming out of your mouth I will march to wherever you are and beat you to a fucking plump got it?”

- “Babe he can’t hear you.”

- “I don’t give a shit! He will hear me when my hands are squeezing his WINDPIPE!”

-And with that you shot up from the couch, sending Dabi rolling to the floor in the process.

-Marching out of the living room, he heard the door slam shut and then a muffled scream before the only sound was the words coming from the TV.

-He had whiplash after that.

-He didn’t know what exactly happened but he was glad in some weird way.

-He knows that you don’t get angry easily, hell he couldn’t get you to snap at him even when he tried his best.

-Sure he irritates you but you have never actually snapped like this before.

-Your calm and collected nature calms him down so seeing you curse and be so violent all of a sudden got him riled up.

-Making his way to your shared room he opened the door finding you curled up on your bed with an angry expression on your face.

-Nose scrunched up, mouth in a scowl and brows furrowed.

-Letting out a small chuckle he took his place behind you bringing his lanky arms around your waist as he turned you around,your nose barely grazing his, eyes burning holes in his chest.

-He brought his forefinger in between your brows and made small circles at the spot, watching as your facial expression relaxed a bit but the scowl was still there.

- “Stop thinking about it you’ll get a headache.”

- “I wanna punch him in the dick.”

- “I wanna do that too but it can wait.”

-Kissing your forehead first he started trailing little pecks all over your face, being satisfied by the small giggles he could get out of you.

-This is why I love you.

Bonus:

- “That was the hottest thing I have seen.”

- “You are getting dommed tonight, lover boy.”

- *flustered burned boy*

Bakugou Katsuki

-He is the one who is angry in your relationship.

-We’ve been new.

-You are his damage control, you can always calm him down and put some sense into him.

-Most of the time he listens to your every word.

-So everyone assumed that since you put up with his shit without batting an eyelash, never showing a sign of anger, you can’t get angry.

-That your anger was that little puff of your cheeks and scrunch of your nose that Bakugou adores.

-No one has ever seen you angry so you don’t blame them.

-But everyone has that one thing that just makes them snap *for me it’s Endeavor*

-You were training with class 1-B when that dickhead Monoma decided to fuck with your boyfriend.

-They were fighting, throwing insults at each other non-stop when Monoma decided to be a dick.

- “Why are you even in this class huh? You would be more useful to the villains. It would be so easy for you too, I bet you don’t need much of a push to join them, don’t you Bakugou.”

-Bakugou may not like talking about it but you know.

-The thoughts that haunt him.

-He was kidnapped and saw his idol be brought down because the League believed that he would make a great entry to their group.

-His own mind works against him sometimes, reminding him of the looks of fear most of the people in his life have when it comes to him.

-He hates it.

-What breaks him even more though is being reminded out loud about those thoughts.

-Having them confirmed by someone else.

-He had stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the other boy in pure horror when he saw a flash of color and Monoma was now laying face down a few feet away.

-You were panting, hands clenched in fists as you stared at the boy in outer disgust, a vein popping on your forehead.

-Bakugou was silent watching your shoulders frantically going up and down, pure rage emanating from your demeanor.

-In the blink of an eye you were on top of Monoma, lifting him off the ground, a snarl escaping your lips.

- “You fucking piece of shit I’ll fucking stab your parents if you say anything like that again!”

-Everyone was shooketh.

-Absolutely terrified but still shooketh.

-Monoma scrambled off the moment you let him go spewing apology after apology.

- “Baby you okay?”

-How the fuck was your voice back to normal? How was it so soft as if nothing happened? As if you didn’t just pin down and threaten someone.

- “Y-Yeah I’m fine.”

-The class was afraid of you for the next four months.

Bonus:

- “Baby, you got so fired up.”

- “No one talks shit about you!”

- “I know but wow that was hot.”

Aizawa Shouta

-Shouta is used to the comments made about him.

-People doubt him as both a hero and a teacher at times and he has learned not to let it get to him.

-He believed that you had closed those comments off as well, you didn’t show any signs of them bothering you at least.

-Sure you might make a small comment whenever you hear something but you never snapped at someone.

-He knew that you prefered tranquility, it was his calm nature that attracted you in the first place *and the fact that he was smoking hot*.

-So when you actually snapped at someone he was taken aback and super turned on.

-Like wow that woman right there giving someone a heart attack is his wife?

-Wow.

-You were both at a hero conference, meeting up with some of your old colleagues to catch up and to get some insight in the hero industry.

-Yall wanted the tea.

-You two were attached to the hip, never leaving each other's side as you enjoyed yourselves.

-You were chatting with a retired heroine who had helped you in the past when you heard murmuring coming from behind you.

- “I heard that one of his students got kidnapped during the summer.”

- “Of course he would let that happen, what could he possibly be a reliable individual? He was a delinquent and a vigilante, irresponsibility is in his blood.”

-Shouta felt you stiffen as your gaze shadowed over.

- “Kit- um Y/N?”

-The two continued dissing your husband and you tried to calm yourself down, you really did.

-But they made it really really hard.

- “He went on live television and gave excuses for that whole ordeal.”

- “You think he was trying to pass the blame?”

- “Of course he was! He has no sense of dignity, leaving his students to fight while he slept and then letting one of them be kidnapped like that.”

-Now he started getting scared because your grip on his arm had tightened and you wouldn’t look at him.

-He thought that you were having a panic attack and it's OUR panic attack so the convention would have to deal with two UA teachers breaking down.

-But then you let go and a sweet smile appeared on your face as you made your way to the duo.

- “It comes from the bottom of my heart when I say that I need you to sit you maniac ass down and be quiet for the rest of the fucking night because don’t think I would hesitate to beat your punkass in front of all those people. If I hear Shouta’s name come out of your lips again I will personally make sure that you won’t be able to formulate words for the next five fucking months.”

-Not even a peep came out of those two for the rest of the evening, their eyes always darting between you and your husband, cold sweat running down their spines every time one of you made eye contact with them.

- “Y/N, kitty, that wasn’t necessary.”

- “You talk shit you get wrecked, period.”

Bonus:

- “Come on Shouta we’re going home.”

- “We’ve only been here for an hour, kit-”

- “You are either blowing my back out or staying here, choose.”

- “Home it is.”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @bemorefiction @threeamwriting @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses @ezoyscorner @letscheereachotheron

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solomonish · 4 years ago

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What Your Favorite Nowdateable Says About You

haha hey, bringing this post back by popular demand (i think? popular demand in my own brain for sure) so i hope u enjoy uwu

warning again for the same type of humor in the last one! these are all things i’d say about myself or my friends dw - warning for simeon’s though, he has a (christian) church mention once (aside from the whole him being an angel thing...you get it)

demon bros here!

Diavolo

you picked him out in the intro and then experienced a severe sadness when you realized he didn’t have an intimacy system attached to him

you frequently use the “hey king you dropped this” meme (and common variations)

you are the most prone to needing the joke explained to you/laughing without getting it because everybody else is

remember what i said about beel and himbos? same thing applies, only this time it fits the character (more)!

you can’t remember the last time you referred to a (male) political figure without calling them “daddy”

you have a small group of friends and/or are an only child

“having a boyfriend is like having a dog right? i just have to love him, feed him and walk him yeah?”

last to know the hottest gossip

Barbatos

you’re into Twisted Wonderland

you’re one of those people who only likes side characters, except you take it too far

you do all the work in the group projects

you look like you’ve got your life together, but really you are this close to losing your shit. “your fingers are touching.” you bet they are

you’re scary good at “predicting the future” i.e. learning from your past mistakes and figuring out how a situation is going to play out. it’s like you have espn or something

if there’s a “popular girl” clique or something similar in media you’re routing for the underdog sidekick every time

you’re v e r y independent (probably as a coping mechanism lbr)

you text using (mostly) proper grammar

Solomon

you’re the reason group chats become cursed and implode

you used to trick kids your age into eating paper saying “it tastes like chicken”

deep time: your biggest fear is that none of your relationships are permanent and your friends will all leave you behind one day

not so deep time: you laugh at the kinfecat image every time, no exceptions

[sighs wistfully] oh to live in a 90s sitcom in which i live with my roommates who i am close friends with and i am the character who is the driving force behind 90% of the show’s wacky shenanigans

voted most likely to ghost your friends for a month and start a new group message with an “i lived bitch” moment

you get a scar and you hope it stays so you can tell the story over and over again

you’re kind of into e-boys, but just like a little

Simeon

you’re the friend that isn’t opposed to listening to your friends talk about underage drinking and general tomfoolery, but participating wasn’t exactly your idea of a fun friday night

most likely to have participated in a youth group

you’re either a theater kid, choir kid or band kid (in order of likeliness) and if you tell me you’re not, you’re also a liar

the embodiment of “good kids are just the kids that don’t get caught :)” (or “if i’m good and responsible now they’ll be more likely to let me off the hook later”)

you were/would be involved in as many honor societies and community service clubs as you could be

you were/are a bit of a teacher’s pet

you would never ever use it against them but by god do you have all kinds of dirt on your friends. but don’t worry you’d never use it against them. but you could :) but you would never! but. still. it could happen. but it won’t :)

instead of using emojis you still use :) :o 8) and so on

Luke

you have friends who show affection with that “gently bullies you” mindset and you’re too soft to tell them it actually kinda hurts

you are the mom friend

you stress bake

you have a lot of love but are afraid to show it in fear of coming across as Too Much

you have a vanilla scented candle

your love language is picking up your friends and holding them so gently

the type to always be told “you’re so cute when you’re angry :)”

always underestimated and ready to throw hands about it

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kcatta-wodahs · 4 years ago

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MC Who Does Not Fear Death x OM! Demon Brothers

Or maiming, or apparently any other consequences. You’ve walked into this situation with absolutely no filter and no fear. Time to tear down every structure of Devildom society.

Lucifer

You look at him with a withering stare when he tries to intimidate you into behaving.

“I was summoned out of my trashy apartment to this place, where literally anyone could snap me like a twig on accident. I’m just working on the assumption that I’m already dead.”

He sternly looks at you. “You’re under my protection during your time here. No harm will come to you.”

You snort derisively, which visibly irritates him. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t come back to haunt you if it happens.”

As you continue through your life in Devildom he keeps calling you out for meddling and all that, like usual, and he HATES that you literally *do not care* when he threatens you.

Like HE knows that he wouldn’t hurt Diavolo’s transfer student but YOU are supposed to be AFRAID of him dammit.

His frustration at this ends up turning into a form of respect. You’re about the only person who will stand up to him, and tbh like you’re so fucking fragile but you’ll yell at him all day? That takes guts. Annoying guts. But you’ve got guts.

But also STOP IT. He has enough stress in his life and now he’s constantly terrified that you’ve decided it’s a great idea to adopt a baby balrog

Which you did once. He’s just afraid that “Flamin Hot Cheeto” is going to come back since you somehow managed to imprint on it.

despite the fact that the BABY could easily tear your arms off on accident

Not to mention he gets the flack for EVERY SINGLE ONE of these following stories. You stress him out so much. Please. Please, stop.

He’s almost to the point of begging. The Avatar of Pride is three steps away from either locking you away for the rest of the year or begging on his knees for you to calm down.

But you know you’d find a way out if he locked you up so no worries. It’ll be a good challenge.

Mammon

“Well you WON’T be dead because it’s my job to protect you! Are you doubting the Great Mammon?!”

Stupid human. Yeah, you’re fragile and weak, but that’s why HE’S your bodyguard now, and there’s no way in hell (lol) that he would let you die on his watch.

Lucifer would kill him.

You welcome the challenge, and he thinks it’s funny at first but quickly becomes a flustered mother hen.

“NO, we are NOT going out to Madam Scream’s at 3am! Do ya know what kinda CREEPS are out there at 3am?!”

And you sneak out the fucking window.

He has had more heart attacks in the past week than he has had in the last 100 years of life.

He starts agreeing to your ridiculous adventures JUST because then he can actually keep an eye on you.

He adores the chaos of the laugh that bursts from you every time you narrowly escape death.

He HATES how often you have to NARROWLY ESCAPE DEATH. So he will never tell you.

He almost doesn’t have time for his own shenanigans anymore, because all his time is taken up by trying to make sure you stay alive.

And you’ve figured out that if you turn *any* of your ideas into a money-making one, he will join you whole-heartedly.

So you bribe him because what’s money to you anymore anyway?

Leviathan

I mean he doesn’t leave his room much, so tbh he probably just gets texts from you that make him want to scream.

‘hey uh levi say if someone were to hypothetically be stuck in a succubus’ devil basement to become an unwilling sacrifice to asmo what would that person, hypothetically, do?’

‘probably die’ is usually all he sends back

You always come back, because he always sends a text to the other brothers. In that case Asmo came to rescue you himself and scold the succubus.

You become the friend that he makes funny throwing-shade reddit posts about. (Devvit? Devil reddit? Eh??)

‘Levi so this has nothing to do with anything but is there a cure for a dangerously potent ‘always win at rock-paper-scissors' curse? Asking for a friend’

‘Friend is being held hostage tho so maybe be quick about a response’

He didn’t even know that kind of curse existed. None of them did. What the fuck did you do.

How did you get taken captive by playing rock paper scissors?

He doesn’t know. Nobody does. He expects the play-by-play so he can recommend it as a new anime to his favorite producers.

Somehow your chaotic plans end up with stories almost as great as TSL.

Beelzebub

He physically carries you around.

He’s like “fuck this you can’t get into trouble if I’m holding you.”

If Beel’s on MC watching duty, he’s almost the only one who is successful, just because you physically cannot get away.

But at the same time, he is very easily bribed.

So yes, he’ll go to Madam Scream’s with you at 3am. Sounds like fun.

But he is very protective after losing someone he cares about (who you remind him of so much….) so he keeps you close when you’re out and about too.

If you start getting into a fight with some other demon he literally just takes the fight for you and wins with no trouble at all.

You like having Beel with you.

Especially finding street festivals! You’re in a whole new world and there’s a MILLION things to try. Beel is more than happy to try them with you.

But that leads to arguments about whether deadly creatures to humans are still deadly when dead.

“No, you can’t eat that it’s on fire. I know even small fires hurt humans. I’ll eat it for you.”

“That hot sauce makes every demon I know cry. You really shouldn’t buy a bottle. Please. No, don’t try it. No, that’s too much for one-- oh. Oh no.”

He forgives you as long as you don’t actually get hurt and you give him your leftovers.

Asmodeus

“If I get wrinkles because of you I promise you will never hear the end of it. I will curse you forever.”

He swears on every single one of his lovers that you have started giving him grey hairs.

GREY HAIRS, MC.

Why can’t you just settle down and let them all take care of you? You don’t have to prove anything to the other demons!

But you will. You’re living in Devildom now, and by everything unholy, you are going to live that life to its fullest extent.

He was thrilled at first when you were all for joining him at his nightclubs and parties. Now he hides every party’s date from you.

That time you almost threw yourself off a balcony to try and emulate a very drunk demon’s newest dance move.

“I need to stay TRENDY, Asmo!! I’ll be fine!!”

Ever since learning Demonus doesn’t affect humans you have challenged every single stuck-up tough boy to a drinking contest.

And every single time you win, Asmo has had to *narrowly* save you from being killed by said demon.

And you just say “he deserved it” every time.

And like, yeah okay, he probably did but YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE.

Somehow, you manage to out-party Asmo.

dON’T TELL THE OTHERS but he lives for the times when you practically fall asleep on his shoulder while coming home from a rager. You may not get drunk, but when you’re sleepy, you’re so affectionate and something in his heart melts.

Satan

At first, Satan was all for the rebellious “life life with no restraints” thought process you explained to him.

I mean, he didn’t like the assumption that he and his brothers couldn’t control themselves to not accidentally kill you, but also… fair.

But he didn’t realize that this mindset followed through for EVERY demon in ANY place.

Including RAD, where old and wizened demons were *really* not used to being contradicted

Which led to you “accidentally insulting” your 5000 year old Human Studies professor by giving them a pop quiz on current memes (which they failed).

And left Satan as the one who had to make sure that said professor didn’t kill you.

And the thing is, this keeps happening.

You’ve written all over the school’s library books, pointing out every error.

You *continue* to argue with the demons who threaten to kill you when you say silly things like “No, Solomon did not learn his sorcery at Hogwarts because Hogwarts isn’t REAL.”

(Solomon, meanwhile, refutes you vehemently and seems to grow three inches taller every time you glare at him.)

Satan assures you that he values knowledge and truth and all that, but could you maybe find a less dangerous way to push it?

No can do, Satan, because you already had plans with Mammon to use a curse that writes the history of the actual Sorceric Academy that Solomon attended like 400 years all over the desks in Human Studies. It’s activated by anyone saying “Hogwarts”.

No, no, Satan, it’s brilliant, because you can’t do magic. It can’t be you who did it.

Satan, no don’t tell Lucifer.

I thought you hated him. Satan, wait.

You are the only person in the history of ever who convinces him to come to Lucifer for intervention. You wear that badge with pride and also deep, deep, bitter sadness.

Belphegor

Like, through the plot your willingness to be a thorn in anyone’s side just to get more information really works for Belphie.

He’s like all I gotta do is ask? Sweet. Yeah. Go, human.

But then when he’s all big and threatening and “im gonna kill you” and you just kind of look at him and nod like “yeah, this checks out.”

Frankly, that’s rude, MC.

And then he keeps threatening to kill you and it doesn’t even PHASE you like. You just keep listening to him rant and going “OH i think i get it now”

He liked that you were always looking for more information when he was the one pushing you around, but now?

No. Human, he is going to KILL you here, STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.

And then you do the time-travel bit, and see that he *literally has killed you in one timeline* and you just like

Shrug it off and keep talking about Lilith???????

Tbh what probably stopped him from doing it again is just that you’re fucking insane, MC

“MC, you literally just saw yourself dead in Mammon’s arms”

You wave your hand vaguely in his direction and say, “Yeah okay, but can we talk about the lack of communication in this household because it is tearing this family apart.”

What the fuck MC

When he’s back to normal, tbh he loves that side of you. He loves getting into shit when he’s not sleeping. He will 100% encourage you and be there to make sure that you *don’t* actually die again.

He’s the only one who doesn’t actually try to stop you. Who knew he was so into chaos.

But if you try to drag him to a plan when he should be sleeping he will be like Beel and literally just hold you down while he naps dammit. You brought this on yourself. He needs sleep.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me shitposts #obey me crack #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #bast babbles #my writing #obey me headcanons #gender neutral mc #re-reading this makes me vibrate with the need to destroy things #tldr is that humans are fucked up

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idontmeantosoundrudebut · 4 years ago

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Many of Horry - Chapter three: Sated hunger, sated madness

HELLO THERE! (that's fucking obi-wan Kenobi meme) it has been a hot minute but I have returned with the promised saucy goods and oh boy, its a mess. Both of ours boys are a mess, a hot mess, yes, very hot, very messy. BUT. Also very soft, very gentle, very romaaaance and its a bit of bad romance (insert lady gaga here plz). Snotlout has no marbles, boy's done lost them all, and Eret is just being British, idk tbh??? Should of added a "you know nothing, Jon snow" gag but that's a bit petty, though i may change my mind, I'm two-faced like that!

This is the boys doing the horizontal tango (add careless whisper saxophone here plz) with violence, soft moments, bickering, angst, scars, body-worshipping and all of the stuff that make weapons of mass destruction!

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Chapter summary - Ten months prior to Eret's leave, Snotlout a mad decision. Ten months prior to his leave, Eret took a mad man to bed.

Chapter warnings - SEX! SMUT! THE HORIZONTAL TANGO! THEY GOT AT IT LIKE RABBITS! Um, also scars, mental instability (Snotlout is kinda crazy in this fic) violence

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He's not even given the pleasure of a warning. No distant cursing, no dramatic door-knocking, no crass bragging. Nothing.

Snotlout just storms into his cabin and punches Eret in the face.

It sends him to the floor and he stays there for a second, hand rubbing at his aching jaw as he looks up at Snotlout, confused and angry. Snotlout's eyes, hauntingly pale in the firelight, are brimming with unspoken rage and his lips are curled back in a wrathful snarl, there is too much anger in him and its brimming at the surface.

After that, his immediate instinct is to stand back up and fight back. Which he does. He thrusts his hands against Snotlout's chest, pushing him back a few feet, and Eret is confused when that snarl flips into a crooked grin. He wants this, he wants a fight, and who is Eret to deny him that?

"If you wanted a scrap, Snotlout, you should've just asked," Eret rolls his shoulders, feeling confident and angry because how dare this short mad man come into his home and attack him? Unprovoked, mind.

"Where'd be the fun in that?" Snotlout laughs and it raises goosebumps along his arms because there is something distinctively unhinged about that sound, it leaves an unnerved feeling in his gut. Men who laugh in the face of danger are the true animals, his father once said, for they have no fear. Even dragons cower at the prospect of death. Mad men howl for joy.

Snotlout charges forward with an arm reeled back, ready to throw a punch, and Eret ducks to the side as that closed fist falls through the empty space, leaving Snotlout staggering forward. But that mad smile doesn't falter as he expected it to and the look that Snotlout gives him from beneath his lashes triggers his flight or fight. It's the face of a rabid animal, of a mad wolf, of a deranged dragon, of something so deluded it doesn't even know what it's doing.

But despite this, Eret stands his ground and fights because he's ran away from things his whole life. Not anymore. He will fight Snotlout, he will fight this mad man.

He heaves in a heavy breath, holds it, then lurches forward with a closed fist. Snotlout doesn't dodge, or move, or even blink and there is something terribly wrong with that. A crunching sound fills the room as his fist hits Snotlout square in the face. Eret exhales harshly as he brings his hand up to brush the loose hair from his face, knuckles throbbing and heart thumping in his chest.

Snotlout takes a step back, head down and hand to face. By all rights, he should be on the floor, out for the night, Eret hit him as hard as he could. That too leaves a sickness in his gut. How can such a small body take such a huge punch? (Not that he's bragging, he's just aware of his own strength)

After a moment, Snotlout let's his hand falls to his side and it's wet with blood.

Then the dragon-rider looks up at him. Eret swallows firmly.

Rivers of blood pour from his nostrils and steadily flow over his lips and down his chin, thick droplets dripping from his jaw and some streak down his neck like exposed veins. He looks terrible with all that blood on him. Oh Gods.

But Snotlout, to his horror, smiles at him with all his teeth and they too are red, glistening, threatening. (It might be the trick of the firelight, but they look sharp)

He looks like a wolf, a wild animal that's just made a kill.

"Snotlout-" Eret starts, no longer angry but concerned because this isn't the Snotlout he knows (not that he knows him well), this isn't the prideful man who's bull-headed and overconfident, who's put-together and two dimensional. No, this is something else, something Eret is familiar with.

Many men went mad under Drago's tyranny.

Snotlout takes no notice of his name being spoken and throws a poorly aimed punch, his fist a good foot from his target. He staggers forward before righting himself, staring at Eret with wild eyes.

"Snotlout, enough now," He states firmly, forcing himself to stand taller to intimidate the shorter, but Snotlout just laughs through his wet teeth.

"What? Am I too much for the greatest dragon-trapper alive?" Snotlout mocks darkly as he opens his arms, almost inviting Eret to attack him.

And hot with the sudden rage of being mocked, of his dark past being bright to the light like its a joke, Eret takes that invitation eagerly.

He yells out as he tackles Snotlout to the floor, anchoring him down with his weight, and his vision blurs as he swings again and again and again till his hand feels close to breaking. Snotlout doesn't fight back. He pummels Snotlout's face as a great hatred unfurls in his chest, a hatred that does not belong to Snotlout, but to Drago.

To Drago. To his corrupted home. To himself. This hatred that's been festering within him belongs to all the things that have caused him to run away. All he's ever done is run, like a coward. Now, he will fight. When he looks beneath him, he sees Drago, he sees the men who murdered his father, he sees himself.

But when the fog clears, Eret is overwhelmed with regret and the first thing that goes through his head is oh Gods, I've killed him. Beneath him is Snotlout, not the men who made a coward of him. What have I done?

Eret pants and stares as he lowers his face closer to Snotlout's, who also pants. He's alive, thank Gods, I'm not a murderer. No, you are, you're still a murder, you're just like the men who killed him!

"Thanks,"

Eret shakes his head and really looks at Snotlout because what? Did- did he- did he just thank him? And then he catches the grin, this blissed out grin made of split lips and bloody teeth, Gods, he's been smiling the whole time. He can't find the words to answer back, he doesn't even know what he would say. (You're welcome)

The rider's face is red and shiny with blood and it makes his eyes so bright, so pale, so blue that he could drown in them. And in those eyes, in those cold waters, Eret sees a calmness that shouldn't be there after getting your face battered in. This is what he wanted, he let you do this, this wasn't a fight, he doesn't know what it was, but I wasn't a fight.

Then those eyes do something Eret wasn't expecting. They flicker down, down, to his lips. And they stare for a few moments before looking back into his, ghost-like and near-white. It leaves a familiar coiling feeling in his gut and he can't stop himself from doing the same, glimpsing a look at those red-shining lips that, suddenly, looks so kissable, even with all that blood.

He wonders is Snotlout came here for any other alternative motives.

Perhaps he asks this question through his eyes because Snotlout's eyebrows jump suggestively and he runs his tongue over his teeth, smearing that deep blood. It sends a hot flash straight to his cock and Eret swallows to quench the dryness in his throat.

"What do you want, Snotlout?" He asks lowly, hands on either side of the shorter's shoulders.

"I think you know, Eret," He responds stubbornly, his voice smug, and they feel so close, like there are no gaps between them. His heart feels like it's suffocating.

Eret does know, or he believes he does. He doesn't want to assume, doesn't want to make this situation worse than it already is.

"I want you to say it,"

It's a challenge and Snotlout's grin widens until there's too many teeth (just like Ruffnut's) and he raises his head till their noses touch, till their breaths warm each other. He licks his lips like a hungry beast and doesn't break eye contact, Eret can't believe how wildly blue they are. It's like looking at a frozen lake, the thick ice has cracked but not feel enough to break.

"I want you to fuck me,"

And that's it. It's out in the open. Eret is suddenly aware of the hardness pressing against his thigh and oh, how it just urges his own to grow in strength, and Snotlout know this too. He bites his bruised lip and blinks slowly. It has to be the prettiest thing he's ever seen. Never mind the blood, never mind the bruises, those eyes are otherworldly.

Slowly, Eret closes the gap between them and the kiss isn't rushed or violent, it's a hesitant movement. After a moment, Snotlout's breath hitches and reels back at the tender touch as if Eret has just smacked his across the face. He looks up at him and Eret swallows at the sudden insecurity that's swirling in those eyes, no longer angry or mad or confident, but unsure in the face of tenderness.

Eret waits for him to move and, sure enough, Snotlout again lifts his head, eyes fluttering closed as Eret meets him in the middle. Their lips slot together like they're meant to be and it fills Eret's heart with a warm feeling, like molten gold in his arteries. The irony taste of blood touches his taste buds as he swipes his tongue along Snotlout's busted lips, who lets out a quiet moan from the back of his throat. More, Eret hears.

It's goes on for a few minutes, this gentle dance, before Snotlout tries to speed it up. He tries to make it angry and obscene, tries to make it as dirty as their fight but Eret isn't having it. No, if they're going to do this, they're going to do this right.

Forcefully, he takes Snotlout's hands and slams them to the floor, above his head, in an almost bruising hold, staring down at him with a dark look.

"Calm down," He orders, his voice rough and heady, and Snotlout's entire body goes weak beneath him at the his commanding tone, "I know that you want a quick fuck, but we're not doing it like that, understand? Not while you're like this,"

Snotlout doesn't respond to him, but now he's almost hyper-focused on Eret and the way he's reacted to the solid orders and the firm hands immediately clicks an understanding in Eret. Snotlout, proud Snotlout who hates authority and instructions, needs to be told what to do.

A soft feeling spreads across his chest and Eret lowers his head till his mouth is next to Snotlout's ear.

"You need me to get you out of your head?" He whispers softly, absently rubbing his thumb over the throbbing pulse on his wrist, and Snotlout lightly nods his head, a shiver moving through his body.

"Fuck me-" Snotlout growls frustratedly, "-like you hate me,"

"No," is his firm answer and he lifts his head to be met with those eyes, bright and angry again at his denied request.

"What do you mean no? You- you bastard-"

Eret rucks his hips, grinding their clothed erections together, and Snotlout's cursing breaks into a breathy gasp as he thumps his head against the floor, tilting it with his eyes as they roll to the back of his skull. In his own pleasure, Eret grunts and admires the exposed throat before him, pale and mapped out with rosy streams of dried blood. Lowering his head, he runs his mouth along the arching curve of Snotlout's throat, his teeth travelling along the pulsing arteries like a threatening blade, Eret could rip out his throat right now and Snotlout would thank him for it. It is a powerful feeling.

He places a kiss, feather-light, on his Adam's apple before lifting himself, freeing one of his hands so he can bring it to Snotlout's chin. Again, they are face to face. Eret is delighted to see a flush fanning across his cheeks and a wanton look glossing his beautiful eyes. They really are beautiful, how has he never noticed them before? It's like he's just seen the moon in the sky for the first time. So pale, so haunting, so strange.

"I don't do hate fucking," He clarifies to Snotlout, voice purposeful and concise, and the response he gets is a forceful huff and an irritated eye roll, manageable enough. A smirk of his own stretches across his face as he tilts his head, eyes ablaze with mischief as he snarks; "I'm only into love making,"

A great laugh explodes from Snotlout's throat and it fills the cabin with a rich, balmy atmosphere that oozes deep into Eret's skin, into his bones, into his heart, it is not a sound he will easily forget. This isn't a sarcastic or mocking cackle, but a genuine laugh that Eret has only heard briefly in unshared moments. If thunder could laugh, it would be this.

"Shut the fuck up," Snotlout chuckles roughly, crinkled eyes looking up at him with mirth and Eret is aware of arms circling around his shoulders, bringing his face closer to Snotlout's.

"Shut the fuck up," He whispers again, voice silken and unchaste, and Eret is drawn into a shameless make out session that draws on till their lungs are aching from lack of breath.

They stare and pant like rabid dogs and there has never been a better feeling than this. This reckless desire, this violent delight, this bloody kiss, those brilliant eyes, that mad smile. No night has ever left him feeling so much. Eret notices that Snotlout is still covered in blood, blood that he spilt, and he rubs his thumb into the drying maroon crust beneath his nose.

"Get up," He says simply as he rises onto his feet and Snotlout makes a barely-audible whine when the hot weight on his lap disappears, gazing up at him from the floor with this lustful yet somehow also tired look in his eyes.

"Can't you just fuck me here?" He groans, sitting up onto his elbows and rolling his neck, and, Gods above, it's all about fucking with him, isn't it? Not that Eret can blame him, by the straining in his pants, he's just as eager as the shorter man.

"It's not love making if you're on the floor and covered blood," Eret retorts smartly, a grin tugging his lips as he offers his red-touched hand to Snotlout, "Now, get up and go clean your face,"

With a bemused snort, Snotlout takes his hand and is easily lifted to his feet. They don't let go of each other straight away and when he looks down at their hands, he sees that they are both flaking with dried blood. Snotlout's blood. It's a strange moment, almost like time has slowed, up until Snotlout's hand slips from his, dark blood-dust grating from their calloused fingers.

"Um, there's a wash basin in my room," Eret states, trying to dislodge his heart from his throat as he leads Snotlout to where his room is, their shoulders brushing as they walk through the doorway.

The copper basin resides on top of the dresser besides his bed and he refills it with clean water everyday, a thing of habit his mum drilled into him as a child.

It's quickly tainted from a shimmering clear to a murky pink as Snotlout splashes water on his face, the diluted blood from his nose and lips slipping through his fingers into the dish. Eret averts his eyes from that glistening skin and concentrates on scrubbing the dusty blood from his hand, the skin of his middle knuckle has split slightly and stings against his rubbing hand. All he can here is the tranquil movement of water and the echoey beat of his heart.

Briefly, he looks to the Rider beside him and notices that there's still blood on his neck, neighbouring with the gold-glinting streams of water droplets. With a face no longer shining with blood and madness, but with water and calmness, Snotlout looks like something from a soft dream and it leaves Eret's mouth dry and pulse running. He swallows, unsure what to do other than stare.

But the longer he stares, the more that calmness shifts in a restlessness that's writhing deep within, barely controlled, barely holding back. He should just give Snotlout what he wants, a quick shag, in and out business as it were, but there was something about that madness in those eyes that tells Eret a swift fuck isn't what Snotlout needs. Sure, it's what he wants, but it's not what he needs.

"Here," He says as he brings a wet cloth to Snotlout's throat, who asks what he's doing through wide, almost angry eyes.

"You've got blood on your neck," Eret clarifies for him, sponging the rag along the fading lines lightly and he can see Snotlout's artery thumping rapidly against the wet skin, it does a strange thing to his gut.

Snotlout turns to face him, head up but tilted to the side with his lips pressed together in a frustrated sort of expression, like this gentle act is an annoying inconvenience. Eret finds it both amusing and terrifying how quickly Snotlout's moods change, from wrathful to deranged to seductive to... Embarrassed? Is that it? He has no idea, but it must be painful to feel so many things at once.

To be honest, he feels a bit light headed himself from the quick changes the atmosphere has taken in the last half hour. The tone in the air currently feels domestic-like, with a hint of apprehension.

"Fucking Hel, stop," Snotlout brutally bats Eret's hand away and looks up at him with a firm, determined face, "Stop with the- the- the foreplay and just-"

In a moment of great confidence, Eret mercilessly rams Snotlout against the dresser and takes hold of the hair on the back of his head, yanking unkindly until Snotlout's throat is completely bared and his eyes are locked with his. There are no gaps between them. Their heaving chests are pressed together so closely that they can feel each other's pounding hearts and Eret presses his leg firmly between Snotlout's legs. A poorly restrained groan comes forth as Snotlout melts like butter in his heated embrace.

"Just what? Fuck you?" Eret growls and those blue eyes glow like a prayer in the candlelight as he faintly nods against the force of Eret's hold, Adam's apple bobbing through a swallowed breath.

"Yeah? You want me to be bend you over, fuck you till I'm done and throw you out, hmm? That's what you want?"

A hotness sweeps along Eret as he watches the submissiveness in Snotlout's eyes grow, his mouth dropping open at those dirty words, at that foul desire.

"Yes, Eret- Fuck yes, do- fucking that," Snotlout drawls breathlessly, a moan colouring his voice as his hair is pulled, legs spreading so Eret can ruck his knee up higher.

And Eret concludes that this, this is the prettiest thing he's ever seen and the power that consumes him is addicting, because it is no simple task to get a Viking Warrior like Snotlout to beg. Proud, fire-blooded Snotlout who now leans against him trembling and begging like a desperate whore.

Eret grins, mean and sharp, as he brings his mouth close to Snotlout's, their lips touching in a open-mouthed kiss that has yet to start.

"Well, too bad," He says in a low voice, lips brushing with each word, and Snotlout stares up at him with begging eyes that almost made Eret reconsider his choice.

But he doesn't.

So, he removes his leg, releases the harsh grip on his hair and slightly backs up so Snotlout has more breathing room. But he keeps his face close, keeps their lips touching and swallows the complaint working on Snotlout's tongue with the vigor of a gentle man. It's one of those kisses that leave you light headed from the softness. Snotlout's hands are frozen in mid air like he's never touched a person before and Eret takes them, holds them, feels the tremors in them and wonders what's so terrifying about tenderness. It's a quiet kiss, a quiet kiss in the quiet night.

They part only slightly to catch a reprieve, lips still touching as they inhale the moment, as they wallow in the balmy warmth of this strange but comforting moment. To think that they were at each other's throats not so long ago. It beggers belief. With closed eyes, Eret trails his mouth along Snotlout's jaw and down his throat, kissing and sucking at the dewy skin with a gentle passion because this is all his tonight, all his to feast on, and he shall savour this taste.

"We'll do this slowly, okay?" Eret mumbles into the crook of his neck, a heavy pulse against his lips, "I am going to fuck you, Snotlout, but I'm gonna do it slowly-"

Eret brings his mouth up until it's right under Snotlout's ear, teeth nibbling at the sensitive flesh and making the Rider's body tremble excitedly.

"-I'm gonna make it feel so good for you," he whispers headily into his ear and his abdomen tightens at the pitched, needy keen that slips from Snotlout's mouth.

"Okay- okay, just- Damn you, Eret, you can fuck me slowly! Just get me to the bed quickly!" Snotlout rasps, caught between desperation and frustration, and Eret can't stop the laugh from bubbling out as he throws his head back.

It's Snotlout this time who goes in for the kiss and it's all teeth and tongue, all hunger and thirst, all the things that Eret associates with a starved man. Starved of touch and tenderness, Eret too feels the cramp of desire. It has been too long.

Thick fingers pull loose the strings of his scaled vest and Eret grins into the kiss, moving his hands from Snotlout's hips to the hem of his vest as he steps back so he can pull it over his head. Dropping it to the floor, he watches as Snotlout gazes with an open appreciation at his bare torso, tongue wetting his lips as he runs his hands down his muscular chest. It leaves Eret's heart thumping wildly and a hotness creeps along his face at the touch, an admiring almost worshipping touch that is so very foreign to him.

"You're... Hot," Snotlout drawls lowly, half-lidded eyes and calloused hands trailing from his pecs to his abs, fingers just brushing over the teasing trail of hair on his abdomen. It sends shivers down his spine.

"I know," He replies confidently, though he can’t quite hide the quiver in his voice.

He knows he's attractive and he is frequently reminded of it, which does not help his ego, but the few men he has been with have always been a bit hesitant in the face of that bold brand on his chest. They've always given it a weary look, kept their hands close and guarded lest they get burnt themselves, treated him as if he's something wounded. He knows he's handsome, but that scar turns that confidence into loathing because it's so ugly and wrong, so evil to him. It's tainted him, it's marked him, it's labelled him.

SLAVE BOY! COWARD BOY! HE RUNS AWAY, SELFISH BOY! MURDERER! TRAPPER! SLAVE! ALWAYS A SLAVE, FREEDOM IS A JOKE AND NO ONE IS LAUGHING!

But Snotlout seems unhindered by it, trailing his fingers along the outline of the furrowed, pink scar with a curious, admiring touch that leaves Eret breathless. He expected a cringe or a hesitant hand, but Snotlout almost seems drawn to his many scars, like a moth in a room of candles. Hands palming and fingers tracing the wicked lines along his toned stomach, his broad shoulders, his exposed collarbone.

He is a marked man. A slave to a greedy country, a slave to a mad man, a slave to violence. He is marked by each and every one of his masters and forever he will be reminded that freedom was a dish never served to him. It was a dish he stole. No longer is he a slave, but there is something missing in his freedom and he doesn’t know what.

"I thought you wanted to get a move on," Eret mumbles with an almost strained voice and Snotlout looks up at him, golden from candle-flames and still glistening from water, he looks like dew at dawn.

"I thought you wanted to slow down," Snotlout retorts back, hands rubbing up and down his chest, and he grins smartly up at him, "What? I'm allowed to touch you, aren't I?"

"Y-yeah, of course- I-"

Expelling a deep sigh, Eret ducks his head and ensnares Snotlout into a passionate kiss, no longer wanting to talk. Despite his charm, Eret finds words difficult at times and sometimes actions speak far more clearly in certain situations.

Snotlout doesn't seem to mind, the shorter gladly returning the kiss with just as much vigour.

There is something about kissing Snotlout that feels very filling, like eating your heart out after months of rationing on a ship. Perhaps he's been starving this whole time. Even after all these years a freedom, there's still a hole in his gut but it doesn't feel so empty right now, with Snotlout's hands on his chest, lips on his lips, heart on his heart.

Perhaps this is truly freedom.

"My turn," Eret whispers against his lips, delving his fingers beneath Snotlout's shirt and feeling the hot skin beneath.

"Wait," Snotlout breathes, taking hold of his wrists, and Eret looks down at him with an almost anxious look, afraid that he's going too fast with this, despite that being what Snotlout wanted.

Snotlout swallows thickly, eyes blue and uneasy as they flicker between Eret's face and his hands, half hidden beneath his vest. The skin there feels strange and oddly familiar though, he can't quite pinpoint what, but his fingers move briefly over raised marks.

"Just... don't ask questions or... Give me any pity, okay? Just... Ignore them,"

Them? Ignore what? And pity? Eret isn't a pitying man, he knows how weak it makes you feel, he'd be a hypocrite to do so. But why would Snotlout warrant any pity? He doesn't quite understand, but he does as he's told and doesn't ask any questions.

"Alright," he agrees with an honest voice and Snotlout then nods his head, lower lip caught between his teeth.

Eret takes hold of the hem of Snotlout's shirt and pulls it off, discarding it behind him before turning back to the Rider.

At first, he doesn't react at all. Not physically, anyway. But his mind screams-

Oh Gods, oh Gods, there's so much, they're everywhere, oh Gods, how is he alive? No one could survive this, he's a corpse, oh Gods he's been kissing a dead man because no one could possibly survive this!

Snotlout's entire torso is the home of hundreds, and by the Gods, he means hundreds, of ivory scars. They're all raised and twisted and cruel-looking, like crooked grins etched into his skin that mock and laugh. They shine against the candlelight and most of them are so overlapped, that they look like just one awfully huge scar. These are lashes, whip lashes, Eret is all too familiar with these scars for he has his own set on his back but nothing like this. Nothing like this graveyard that resides upon Snotlout's flesh.

Drago gave him fifteen lashes and a branding that day, as well as a thorough beating from his henchmen. Since then, Eret had been able to avoid punishment and failure out of pure dread of what would happen if he failed again. Perhaps this is what would've happened, perhaps he would've mauled and marred and... Marked.

He wants to ask who (what) did this to you? Why did they do this? When? How are you still alive? How are you still standing with the weight of the scars that mark you?

But he says none of these things because Snotlout asked him to and even if he'd been given permission to, his breath has been stolen from him anyways. He cannot simply ignore them, though. These hundred echoes of a hundred agonies, if scars could speak, they would be screaming. How are you not screaming? How are you still so brave?

Eret steps forth and Snotlout's eyes, hauntingly bright, stare at him with a hidden shame within them that Eret sees clearly. He nearly mistakes that shame for his own. Lowering his head, he kisses Snotlout's shoulder and licks along a nasty scar that bends over his shoulder to his back. He makes the mistake of opening his eyes and he sees that there are a hundred more vicious wounds defacing his back. He could be sick, he really could be, that's why he closes his eyes again.

"Eret," Snotlout gasps, blunt teeth biting down onto that raised line as hands map out and feel along the almost inhuman terrain of Snotlout's body.

Eret touches each scar with a great tenderness, devoting his hands to the gentle caresses along his chest and stomach, his sides and back. All scarred, all layered with the ghosts of torture because what else could this be? There's nothing worse than this, Eret thinks, death is kinder than this. He kisses the thick scars criss-crossed on Snotlout's chest and massages the sunken marring on his waist and sides with his hands, trying to get Snotlout to understand that he's here to touch him softly, gently, tenderly.

You will not be harmed here, he reassures with his lips against his scar-streaked collarbone, I will hold you right now and will only let you go if you ask me to, he promises with his hands pressed against his mauled spine.

"Eret, can we..." The request goes unsaid, but Eret understands and finally decides that Snotlout has waited long enough. They both have.

Wrapping his arms under his thighs, Eret easily lifts Snotlout off his feet and his heart grows with the shocked sound Snotlout makes as he circles his thick arms around his neck. Eret chuckles and Snotlout lets out a breathy laugh, cursing him quietly. After a few steps, he gently lies him onto the bed and crawls over him, their noses touching as Eret settles between his legs. Their clothed erections press against each other and they simultaneously groan, that hot want kindling again in their guts.

With Snotlout beneath him, Eret feels that power again.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good," Eret promises headily against his mouth, hands fiddling with hem of Snotlout's trousers.

"You better get on with it then," Snotlout growls, baring his teeth before diving in for a violent kiss and Eret takes this as his final warning.

In an almost animalistic fashion, he tears Snotlout's trousers and underclothes off in one powerful tug and grins into the kiss at the surprised sound Snotlout makes in his throat. And that grin only grows when he wraps his hand around Snotlout's cock, the Rider breaking the kiss with a gasp as Eret skilfully pulls him apart. Bless him, he tries to hold it in with clenched teeth and pressed lips but the sounds still resonate through his throat and, though they are muffled, they are terribly pretty.

The sounds he pulls from him are almost enough for Eret to go over the edge himself to be honest, he's never heard such surrender in his life. But he made a promise to fuck Snotlout and he isn't going to let this opportunity pass him by because he can't control himself. With one last tug, Eret releases Snotlout and silences that arguing whine with an encouraging press of his fingers against his mouth, leathery pads brushing against the scabbed lips. Snotlout, quick to understand, opens his mouth and swallows two of Eret’s digits and its an image that he couldn’t have come up with even in his most wildest dreams. Yet here it is, here he is, atop a mad rival with his fingers delving down his throat as he makes the most lewd noises Eret has ever heard. Gods, he can feel those sounds.

After a steamy moment, Eret replaces his now-slick fingers with an open-mouthed kiss and brings his hand down to Snotlout’s entrance. His finger slips in nice and easy, causing Snotlout to groan lowly as pulls back from the kiss, spit on his lips while he tucks his head into Eret's throat, biting and kissing passionately.

"Good, yeah?" Eret murmurs with a wicked grin, adding another finger, and he can feel how hot Snotlout's skin gets as he nods into the crook of his neck.

He gasps, high-pitched and pretty, hips rising as Eret hooks his fingers inside him, teeth digging into his shoulder in an attempt to stop himself from voicing his pleasure.

And again, he is full of this incredible power as he pumps his fingers inside him, watching Snotlout sharply as he drops his head back down to the furs with a strangled moan. He pulls his lower lip with his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut, like the pleasure is bordering on agony. It's not enough, he needs more, and who is Eret to deny him that?

Once he's satisfied with how loose he is, Eret rises onto his knees and unties the strings of his trousers, pulling out his heavy cock with an apprehensive rumble in his chest. His blood bubbles like boiling water and he feels feral when he looks at Snotlout, sprawled below him with this vulnerability bared freely. He trusts you, he's baring his throat to you, Gods, he asking you to tear it out and you would, you will, you'd do it again and again only if he asked you to and he's laying here, asking!

Eret, hungry like a winter-born beast, takes hold of the back Snotlout's thighs and presses his muscled legs to his flushed chest, putting his weight on them at he leans over him. Snotlout's eyes are stunningly bright and he gazes deep into them, looking, searching, hunting. He's never wanted something so much in his life and by God's, if Snotlout lets him do this it just might kill him.

"Snotlout," he says his name softly, contrasting the hard grip on his thighs, the starved look in his eyes, the urgent press of his cock.

It's a question. Can I do this? Will you let me take your body, take your throat, take your heart? Can I touch you like you're a forgotten god who wasn't worshipped as you should've been? Can I do that? Will you let me?

And Snotlout sighs, deep and honest, like an answer. Yes, yes, yes. Forever yes.

With a blaze in his veins, Eret presses his hips forward and the overwhelming feeling of hot, wet, tight strikes him dumb for a few moments, black stars dancing in his eyes as he presses his forehead against Snotlout's. He vaguely registers his own drawn out moan as he stares, awe-struck, at the open-mouthed and closed-eyed expression on Snotlout's face. It is a look of pure, blinding bliss that looks so damn pretty on this irritating, fire-blooded Viking Warrior that has been Hel-bent on frustrating him beyond all belief. It is burned into his memory for all time and he begs that he'll remember it when he dies.

"Fuck," Eret gasps lowly, fingers flexing around the muscle on Snotlout's under thighs as he bottoms out, their hips connecting as if they've become one person.

In a moment of curiosity, he looks down and his panting breath is stolen once more as he sees Snotlout's thighs. Ripped and raised with scars. In a moment where he forgets everything else, he sits back and let's Snotlout's legs stretch out alongside his hips, fully revealing the extent of the scarring. Snotlout, still gasping from the fullness of Eret's cock buried inside him, has yet to realise what he has noticed.

Eret runs his hands up and down those marred thighs with a doting gentleness that he feels they've been starved of. He's never seen someone so damaged before, it looks like someone tore him apart and left him alone with nothing but a ball of string and a blunt needle, left him alone to sew himself whole again. Curling a hand around Snotlout's ankle, he lifts his leg till it's on his shoulder and kisses tenderly at the also scarred tissue of his calf, as if someone had repeatedly struck the back of his legs with a sharp-sided stick.

"Ere-" It's the beginning of a complaint, bitter and angry, but Eret easily cuts it off with a few shallow thrusts of his hips, still kissing his ankle and calf.

Snotlout tilts his head back, an almost shocked keen jumping from his throat as Eret rocks into him, still being gentle as not to cause any discomfort. Though, he can't lie, it's hard for him not pound violently into the gorgeous heat that's making his gut coil and spine shake. Snotlout wants it violent, wants it dirty and foul and angry, but Eret, as stated, doesn't do hate sex and no amount of surprised punches or provoking jeering will ever change that. He's a gentleman.

"Fuck- harder,"

Or he was a gentlemen, because there is something about Snotlout begging Eret to fuck him harder that brings out a ferocious thing from deep within. A gentleman, still, but there is something wild inside him that Snotlout has tapped into.

Eret covers Snotlout's body with his, knee to his chest and leg over his shoulder as he fucks deep and hard into him. It's like there’s nothing but this outrageous hunger churning in his gut and Snotlout is this gorgeous feast sprawled out just for him, like he's this deer with its neck open and Eret is this ravenous wolf.

And being this hungry dog, Eret takes his teeth to Snotlout's throat and feels the thrumming of blood beneath his tongue. Snotlout moans and writhes and pants, one hand balled in the furs and the other curled around his nape, tangled in his loose hair. The room is full of the sound of slapping skin and dirty moans and desperate breaths, the bed creaking slightly underneath it all. It is the sound of sex, of pleasure, of primal desire.

"So fucking good, Snotlout, so fucking good," Eret growls into Snotlout's hot skin as he fucks firm into the Rider, his muscles burning and skin glistening with sweat.

"Oh fuuuuck," Snotlout drawls out in a loud moan, eyes rolling and mouth snarling, and it takes Eret a moment to realise that he came, sudden and hard, between their bodies.

"Oh fuck, fuck, oh Gods, Eret," he babbles breathlessly, body shivering and flushed and limp as Eret continues to pound zealously into him, his own climax rushing him as he's enveloped in this unimaginable tightness.

"I'm gonna-" Snotlout doesn't give him time to finish, his strong hands clutching fiercely at the hair on the back of head and dragging his face down to his.

"Yeah, yeah, go on, give it to me, fuck, Eret, cum inside me you fucking bastard," Snotlout pants wantonly, lips pressed against his in a not-quite-kiss, bright, teary eyes gazing into his with this feral madness that, for the smallest second, scares Eret.

Briefly, he thinks, oh no, I've made a fool's mistake and put my dick in crazy.

But it snaps out of mind as his orgasm leaps upon him and all he can do is groan against Snotlout's open-mouthed grin, body trembling as he ruts through this mind-numbing climax. His body is on fire and Gods he's dying, living has never felt this good, nothing has ever felt this damn good.

It feels like hours, but it must have only been a few minutes, before the wildfire in his veins simmers down and Eret is half collapsed on top of Snotlout, elbows planted besides his head and chest pressed against his, their hearts singing to each other as they wallow in the afterglow.

He opens his eyes and stares, half in disbelief, half in awe, at the foreign expression on Snotlout’s face. Eret is used to the quirked grin during dinner or the irritated scowl that is commonly directed at him, the quiet sternness seen in serious moments or, though he has only seen it briefly, the unbridled bloodlust that breaks through on the battlefield. But the face below him now is neither of these, nor one of the recently discovered faces of Snotlout (madness, rage, lust, mad-lust, shame), it is something that Eret can only name as pure, unfiltered content and it suits him terribly well, especially with that bright flush on his cheeks and those shimmering tearstains streaking down the sides of his face. Perhaps, perhaps this is the prettiest thing; dream-like, gold-kissed, gently-touched.

Eret falls to the bed besides Snotlout with a satisfied exhale, feeling good and warm on both the inside and outside, like there is a candle kindled within him. He doesn’t trouble himself with the thoughts of tomorrow or of repercussions because he is simply far too tired for such thoughts, there’s no need to ruin a good moment while you’re having one. It’s the same kind of tired that you get after a big meal and he certainly has feasted tonight.

Lazily, he turns his head to Snotlout and there is this sudden, unspeakable feeling in his chest when he looks at him, eyes closed and lips parted, not asleep but just… resting, with no guard or façade protecting his features. Again, it’s Snotlout saying he trusts him and Eret has no idea how he earned that trust but he’s not a fool, he won’t throw that trust away. Perhaps this is Snotlout handing him an olive branch, saying in this crazy, sexy way of his that he doesn’t hate him, that they can be friends. Passionate friends are better than bitter rivals.

And Eret falls asleep like that, watching the steady movement of Snotlout’s chest, counting the wicked scars on his ribs, devouring the image of those split lips that Eret can still taste in the back of his mouth (blood, iron, lightning).

Later that night, Eret is woken by the sound of moving feet and ruffling clothes. The dream of cracked ice and calloused hands and a bleeding heart quickly slip from his memory like smoke through his hands but the sluggishness of sleep clings to him longingly, so much so that he struggles simply to open his eyes. When he does, it’s dark and shadowy, the candles all snuffed out, and he has difficultly trying to identify the source of those sounds. He pats his hand onto the other side of the bed, expecting to feel Snotlout’s body, but there are only disturbed furs laying there. Ah, he understands.

“Snotlout?” He slurs into the dark, sleep heavy on his mind, and the noises stop suddenly.

When his eyes finally adjust to the darkness, he’s met with the shadow-touched figure of Snotlout stood beside his bed, trousers on and tunic in hand, pale eyes watching him. He swears they were blue, they’ve always been blue, but right now, gods, they look like they’re white and glowing, like an animal’s eyes catching the moonlight, like two stars standing side by side. Eyes shouldn’t be so bright yet so haunted, they’re like ghost eyes.

“Are you a ghost?” He wants to ask, because he should be, with all those scars, he should be dead and maybe he did die but he’s lost, doesn’t know if he belongs in Valhalla or Hel because he’s got the heart of a warrior but the mind of a mad man.

“What you doing?” He asks instead, because Snotlout is no ghost, Eret has cradled his heart and held his body. You cannot touch ghosts, it’s a well-known fact.

“Go back to sleep, Eret,” Snotlout says and there is a faint softness in his voice that he almost misses, the biting tone his name is usually spat with now replaced with this indulgent whisper that sounds, not warm, but not cold either. Lukewarm.

“Where you going?” Eret murmurs back, rubbing the sleep-dust from his left eye as he watches the shorter tighten the strings of his trousers with the other.

“Home,” Snotlout replies back bluntly, that warmer voice iced down back to its cold familiar self, and Eret groans tiredly.

“It’s not even dawn, come back to bed,” He reasons, voice still deep and hoarse from sleep, his words barely coherent.

He hears Snotlout sigh frustratedly and vaguely sees the harsh rise and fall of his broad shoulders, eyes closed and face pinched in irritation. He’s reacting as if Eret’s just proposed the most outrageous offer to him and it rises the smallest amount of annoyance in him, but he’s far too tired to fully register the feeling, let alone act upon it, so instead he follows the negotiation route. Which will be poor due to his lethargic state, but he’s persuasive and has bargained tougher trades while drunk.

“Don’t be a git,” He murmurs, patting the empty space beside him, “Come. Sleep,”

“Shut up, sailor,” Snotlout grunts with no bite in his voice, just tiredness, “Shut up and go to sleep,”

With a sudden swell of courage and frustration, Eret leans across the bed and takes Snotlout’s hand into, his grip loose enough for Snotlout to pull from if he really wants to but tight enough to show he’s being sincere, even if he’s just half-asleep. Both of their hands are calloused from gruelling battles and hard labour and strenuous training and he can feel the rigid patches of old burn scars on Snotlout’s palm, a common marking found on this island where everyone rides a fire-breathing beast. Even Eret’s got his own collection.

“Snotlout,” His voice comes out soft and meaningful, “Come back to bed,”

And Snotlout stares down at him with those eyes, those moon-drowned eyes, and it’s a stern, searching look, the same look he makes when he’s trying to figure out if an enemy is either being truthful or deceptive and Eret has yet to see Snotlout’s perception (or gut) to be proven wrong. Even in this half-awoken state, Eret feels his skin crawl and there’s a coldness in his chest, like his soul is retracting from the stark, glacial stare, he feels like he’s being judged. Is this what it’s like to be judged by a ghost?

Snotlout closes his eyes (much to Eret’s relief) and expels a long sigh through his flaring nostrils, faintly resembling Hookfang when he blows smoke from his nose. When he opens his eyes again, they’re blue and Eret is far too tired to think about it. But his heart leaps gleefully when he feels Snotlout squeeze his hand and Eret squeezes back unconsciously.

“Budge,” Snotlout orders, jutting his chin towards him, but Eret, so full of pride that he past Snotlout’s cunning gaze and convinced him to come back to sleep, is already tugging the shorter onto the bed.

“Oi!” Snotlout tries to abject, but by the time he starts his head is already being pressed against the curve of the sailor’s neck and Eret has already wrapped his arms around his waist and side, both of them lying chest to chest, both of their hearts giggling together.

“Shut up, rider,” Eret grumbles sleepily, pressing his proud grin into the tasselled hair on Snotlout’s head, “Shut up and go to sleep,”

Soon Eret feels arms reluctantly swathing around his ribcage, as if their cradling the cage of his heart, and then a face nestling against his throat, it almost feels like a tender mouth ready to rip it out. Again, he hears Snotlout sigh and its neither tired nor irritated, it’s a content sigh, a gentle exhale. Eret lightly brushes his knuckles over the warm skin of Snotlout’s shoulder in an easing gesture, a voiceless lullaby, and despite his sleepiness, he does this even after Snotlout has fallen asleep.

Eret just lies there on this quiet night, feeling Snotlout’s heart beating against his, feeling very full, very whole, very free.

#snotlout whump #eret x snotlout #eret son of eret #eretlout #httyd fanfiction #httyd

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thatasianstereotype · 5 years ago

Text

Damn, You’re Looking Fine.

To my utter delight, my crack writing Fuck. I’m Gay. got a good reception. I was not expecting to write more for this AU/pairing. But why not? I got some ideas and a computer to write them down on.

So this fic is the took-a-while-to-put-together sequel. It’s focused on the downfall of one certain Liar-la, Damian wooing Adrien with all the flair and romantics as his Chaton deserves, and Adrien being a blushing hot gay mess.

P.S. Damian’s formal way of talking is an utter pain to write but hilarious to read.

P.S.S. Creative liberties were taken. Again. I just feel this needs to be mentioned.

So Status Update:

Adrien and Damian are definitely dating (It is totally official. Told you ya boi got game).

Adrien still calls him Hot-And-Sexy from time to time much to his utter mortification (He can’t make himself stop. Please send help). And Dami gets amused by it every single time, that arrogant smug jerk.

Marinette still puts the fear of god in Damian and he is wary of her. She feels very proud about that. Adrien wants to facepalm.

Fuck Gabriel Agreste.

And Lila Rossi is still a bitch.

Adrien and Marinette were made aware about Damian’s alter ego —well mostly because he is utterly terrified of Marinette’s seemingly sweet (icy) smile she gave him when she politely asked how he obtained the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous and partly because of Adrien’s pouting kitten eyes.

They truly were a pair to reckon with.

“I am not sure why the Justice League dismissed your concerns and pleas for assistance. So I am taking the initiative. My name is Damian Wayne, the son of Batman and the current Robin and leader of the Teen Titans.”

He’s a superhero too?! And it’s Robin!!! One of his favorites!! Can you hear him internally squealing in excitement?

Adrien bit his lip to keep from fanboying right then and there. But a slight pink hue spread across his face.

“You’re not lying.” Mari has gotten pretty good at deciphering through people’s bullshit. Whether it’s because she is now a Guardian or because Lila’s bitchiness made her a human lie-detector remains unknown.

Damian took it in stride. “I am not.”

“Paris is still our city.”

“I am only offering my assistance.” He won’t barge in on their superhero duties to the city. He has more class than that.

Mari didn’t have to look at Adrien to know his decision.

She smiled, a bright genuine smile. “Then we’re allies.” Before her eyes gained a spark of mischief and her smile turned teasing. “Hot-And-Sexy.”

“Marinette!” Adrien immediately covered his blushing bright red face with both hands, utterly mortified.

His sister was evil. E. V. I. L. And why is Damian smirking and looking so smug? Fuck! He even makes that look completely hot. Curse his Adonis genes. And curse his teenage hormones.

He regrets introducing the two of them together. What a pair they make. Truly a couple of fur-midable terrors here.

Back to the matter at hand, Marinette is able to ensure that Hawk Moth and Mayura will never be out again and another akuma won’t be made. She already made sure that the miraculous were better protected.

Damian has enough evidence to put them behind bars for their crimes but Marinette wanted to go through it and make sure that Adrien won’t suffer the repercussions of having a villain for a dad so they held onto it until they figure out how best to protect their sunshine.

Ah Shit.

“Duusu? Where are you?”

Did Gabriel lose the miraculous again?

But when he looked into the last place he left it, he groaned. Fuck. His brooch was a fake again.

He knew he shouldn’t have made a miraculous fashion line and had replicas of the miraculous jewelries made. It was his most popular items to date. He has gotten lot of praises for getting the details just right and capturing the essence of each miraculous holder. No surprise there. He deals with them on a daily basis. He should get the details fucking right.

It’s a wonder he only came up with a line because there was talk that he was becoming obsolete with no new ideas coming forth and if there is one thing that Gabriel Agreste isn’t, it is being obsolete.

The line was just a joke, a parody of the heroes and villains if you will, but apparently people like it. Ladybug and Chat Noir were the most popular obviously (he should’ve seen that coming to be honest). Hardly anyone buys Hawk Moth or Mayura and he is left with boxes of fake brooches.

It is annoying.

Especially since he keeps fucking misplacing his miraculous.

Adrien felt like he could be a Disney princess and just skip his way to school and sing for the world to hear.

Now that the Butterfly miraculous were safely with Marinette, he doesn’t have to worry about another akuma. He could just die happy right now. His dad doesn’t have a hold over him anymore. He doesn’t have to put up with Liar-la anymore. But if they put up a fuss? Well, worst case scenario is he becomes a Dupain-Cheng.

And he doesn’t mind. He’s already an honorary one.

And if that somehow doesn’t work out (which he highly doubts), Damian offered to make him a Wayne.

Françoise Dupont High School experienced a shock that morning. Specifically Ms. Bustier’s class.

When they saw Adrien and Marinette walking in class with arms intertwined, laughing and smiling together.

What the actual fuck?

Did they cross into an alternate universe? Marinette is a nasty bully and Adrien’s a pure sunshine child. Why would they be acting like they were the best of friends?

Lila glowered darkly when she saw them walking towards the back and sitting at the same table. Didn’t Adrien care about what his father thinks? Doesn’t he want to still be able to go to school?

She bit her lip and turned on the waterworks, her eyes close to bursting into tears. She made herself be the very picture of a pitiful woe-is-me victim as she cried out in a hurtful and betrayed tone. “Adrien, what are you doing with her? I thought we were close friends.”

The sheep class instantly catered to Lila, pointing their fingers at the pair.

Alya, her biggest supporter, led the charge as always. “Adrien! What do you have to say for yourself? How could you cheat on Lila like this? And with her?”

Adrien narrowed his eyes at his former friend. Bitch, how dare she implies he was in an actual relationship and had feelings for that harlot.

Wow.

He has been spending way too much time around Damian.

"Yeah, bro!” Kim said, raising his voice. “How could you do her dirty?”

“Okay guys.” Adrien cut in. “I don’t know where you heard that but me and Lila are not dating. Like at all.”

“Please.”Alya waved him off like he didn’t know what he was talking about (he was highly offended at the notion he didn’t know what his heart yearns for). “We all know you have feelings for Lila. You’re just in denial over them.”

Bitch, what?

Is no one catching onto his chaotic gay vibes here?

And oh, how his fragile little heart was betrayed yet again when he saw Nino supporting his girlfriend. He still couldn’t believe the first friend he made all by himself was a part of their rabid pack. He deeply mourned the loss of such a great friend in the midst of that deceiving fox’s claws.

“How many times do I need to say it?” At this point, Adrien was about to throw hands. “I don’t like Lila like that. I feel nothing but pure spite for her. Also, me and Marinette are not dating if anyone’s wondering. We’re just really good friends.”

“But Marinette’s a big bully.” Alix piped up, a hard edge in her voice. “She treats Lila horribly.”

“Marinette didn’t do anything to her. Rossi is lying.”

“Oh Adrien.” It was Mylene of all people who spoke up. “Did Marinette get to you with her lies?”

He was done.

Completely and utterly done.

He looked over at Marinette who shared his exasperation at the class’ antics.

Adrien already said it before. But it bears repeating.

Lila Rossi is a bitch.

Luckily (or maybe unluckily), that was the moment Ms. Bustier chose to step in the room and class started.

When the teacher’s back was turned, Adrien pulled out his phone and proceeded to spend the rest of the time alternating between taking notes and texting with Damian.

They were currently at the stage of their relationship to be sending animal pics and memes back and forth, with a few puns added from time to time.

He really does have the perfect boyfriend.

They cornered him after school.

One: Rude.

And two: Double rude.

He was excited to meet Hot-And-Sexy (daMn iT! It’s Damian! Get it right brain) at the bakery and spending time with his two most favorite people in the world (Tom and Sabine don’t count because actual parents don’t have a ranking).

His former friends were looking all concerned and everything because they somehow collectively came up with the idea that Marinette actually brainwashed him to believe Lila was evil.

The fucking irony.

They actually had the audacity to say that Marinette —sweet and honestly badass Marinette— was no good and just wanted to use Adrien to get ahead in the fashion industry (as if Mari actually needed him for that). He shouldn’t be around her. Lila was a much better person to keep as company.

Adrien laughed in their faces and left.

Onto happier events, Adrien was having a blast hanging out with Mari and Dami. His boyfriend (he still can’t believe he managed to score such a hottie!) fit right in the everything-that-matters siblings’ dynamics.

They were in Mari’s room. Adrien was cuddling with Damian on her bed. And Mari was at her desk working on fashion designs.

“So what’s your family like?” He played with Dami’s hair. It was so soft. Like what the fuck. It is so unfair.

Damian thought about it for a few seconds. “My family is a bit...crazy. We drive each other insane every other day but at the end of the day, I have no doubt they have my back as I have theirs.”

“You guys sound close.”

“We were not always. We had an extensive amount of issues to work through before we actually bonded as a true family.”

It was quiet for a minute until Damian casually said. “I would appreciate it a great deal if you can make time to visit Gotham for the summer.”

Adrien stopped playing with his hair to look at him with wide incredulous eyes. “Summer’s only two months away.”

“I am aware.”

“You really want me to meet them? Isn’t it too early?”

“I met yours the day we started dating.”

True but....

Adrien averted his eyes. “Do you think your family will like me? You guys fight criminals and my dad’s a villain.”

Damian put his hands over Adrien’s and gave them a light squeeze, making his Chaton look back at him.

“My mother is a villain and I was raised as an assassin. Yet despite of that, my father accepted me. And I am fairly confident he will do the same to you. Mon amour, you have a pure and selfless heart. You are a better person than I am. I have no doubt that my family will love you from the start.

“Are you being fur real right meow?” Adrien tried to lighten the atmosphere but he could feel his eyes tearing up.

"I wouldn’t lie to mew.”

He let out a small laugh, wiping his eyes. How did he ever get so lucky to land such an amazing guy? “You always know the purr-fect thing to say.”

“We get it you’re in love. It’s amazing. Now stop it with the puns.” Mari rolled her eyes, utterly exasperated at these idiots who just ignored her and pulled out even more cat puns. “You have got to be kitten me.”

Before she noticed what she said and groaned in faux despair. “Oh you two are so dead.”

Adrien stuck out his tongue playfully. “You can’t catch me. I got a handsome knight in shining armor to protect me.”

Damian interlaced their fingers. “Always, mon amour. I’ll protect you from everything like your wicked father.”

“Does that make me the dragon here?” Mari joined in. “Cool. I can breathe fire and torch people. Too bad I can’t do that to a certain liar.”

“Liar-la is totally the witch here.” Adrien said before thinking for a few seconds. “Does this make me the princess?”

“Well, knights always have to save the damsel in distress.” Mari said.

He frowned before crossing his arms indignantly. “Dami, I love you more than Plagg loves his stinky cheese, but I’m no damsel in distress.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Tt. Of course not. You can destroy things with a single touch. It would be not be in my best interests to downplay your abilities.”

Adrien relaxed and beamed a sunny smile. “Good. Remember that.”

“Mon amour, I look for an equal as a partner, not some weak spoiled harlot that can not defend their self.” Damian placed a flower crown (that was just sitting on Marinette’s nightstand, must be one of her projects) on Adrien’s head. “Having said that I do believe you are a prince that deserves all the love and care in the world.”

And oh my.

Adrien can feel his face burning scarlet and his heart almost bursting at how sweet this incredible, conceited Adonis was.

He was falling in love with Damian over and over again each time they meet up.

“You deserve love too, Dami.”

And sweet, caring Hot-And-Sexy (Ah, fuck it. He will never grow out of that) placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

Oh dear, he didn’t know his face can burned any redder.

He could almost hear Mari cooing in the background.

And in case anyone was wondering, Tom and Sabine adores their everything-that-actually-matters son’s boyfriend. Damian Wayne seems like a responsible young lad. And he makes Adrien really happy which is a major plus. Anything that makes their son happy is good in their books.

Lila was not at all pleased.

Why was Adrien suddenly hanging out with Marinette? Yeah, he doesn’t buy into her lies but she was confident he will be lured into her charms. Why wouldn’t he be? She was young and way more beautiful than a baker’s daughter. He was supposed to be hers.

She and Gabriel are going to have a talk about his rebellious son.

Except when she arrived at the Agreste mansion, Gabriel was apparently too busy to see her.

He was too occupied with searching through boxes of fake miraculous to find Duusu to bother with her.

“I don’t have time for you.”

“Excuse me?!”

She was aghast. How dare he speak this way to his biggest supporter —well, besides Mayura and Nathalie.

“You’re excused. Now leave the premises.”

Before the door shut in her face and she was left fuming, her face an unflattering angry red.

Being Damian’s boyfriend, Adrien has come to learn that Damian does nothing by halves. Including asking him out on a date. And the actual dates themselves.

Today as the sun fell down and night came about, Damian and Adrien were taking a stroll in the park. It was relaxing and it was nice. They talked about everything and anything.

Adrien did not think Damian planned anything more.

But he really shouldn’t underestimate the son of Batman.

Because when the last of the sun’s rays were gone, Damian led him to a gazebo strung up with beautiful lights giving the whole place an ethereal feel. And with the bright moon out tonight, it looked like fairies dancing in the garden.

He didn’t notice Damian pressed play on his phone and classical music filled the air.

He definitely noticed Damian bowing with a flourished and holding out his hand with a charming smile. “May I have this dance, Chaton?”

Adrien would have to be a huge fool to say no.

“I’ll loved to.” He placed his hand in Damian’s and let the Adonis lead him in a simple waltz.

This was his life.

His life was one big sappy romance novel. And you know what, he doesn’t care if it is. Between dealing with his shitty father and Liar-la, this kitty deserves some happiness.

It was a scene from one of those Disney fairy tale movies Adrien used to watch as kid. The magic. The love. The romantics. He felt like Cinderella and wished this night will never end, that the clock will never strike midnight. He just wanted to stay in his Prince Charming’s arms forever.

Under the starry night sky, the lovebirds danced to their heart’s content and when another song ended, Damian tilted his head down to place a tender kiss on Adrien’s lips.

“I harbor a great deal of non-platonic affections for you, mon amour.”

“I love you too, Hot-And-Sexy.”

What the fuck?!

Seriously.

What the actual fuck?

Lila was simply walking home after her disastrous meeting with Gabriel (She was still not over how he simply dismissed her like she was nothing. How dare he).

When she saw them.

Adrien and some guy (she’s pretty sure that was a guy) dancing in the park. She can feel that disgusting jealousy just burning in her veins, a cold anger thrumming underneath.

Things were not at all going her way.

First, Adrien is back to being friends with that Mari-whore. Then, Gabriel ignores her. Her. And now, she is seeing her Adrien in the arms of someone else.

Oh this will just not do.

She took out her phone from her pocket and snapped a couple of pictures, making sure Adrien can clearly be seen. She didn’t care too much about the other guy. He’s probably just another pretty airhead Adrien knew through his father. He’s not important.

A cruel smirk appeared on her face at the thought of the perfect revenge. Adrien was going to have a rough time at school tomorrow. After all, he should’ve known better than to make a move against her.

“Seriously?!”

“Wow.”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this.”

“Yeah. Adrien is obviously gay. That’s the only explanation.”

“....Maybe not? There could be another reason.”

Lila had watery eyes and a sad frown on her face but inside, she was fucking smiling like a Cheshire cat. She made sure to be at school early so she can show the class the picture of Adrien’s little date last night. Who —predictably— were shocked at their sunshine child being with a guy and made plans to confront him about his supposed sexuality.

She glowed at the thought of her plan working. This will teach Adrien to know his place or become a social pariah like his little friend Marinette.

“I thought Adrien had feelings for me.” Lila wiped the “tears” from her eyes. “How could he lead me on like this when he’s been gay all along?”

Alya —predictably— comforted her. “I’m pretty sure he’s just confused. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling.”

“I’m sure that’s it.”

The pair didn’t notice Juleka and Rose glaring at them.

Damian was not at all pleased.

He was rightfully angry.

How dare that poor sense of fashion taste trollop tried to shame his mon amour for being gay. How dare she try to say he was simply confused and didn’t know any better. How dare she defame his reputation because he holds nothing but spite for her person.

How dare she.

As Adrien’s boyfriend and future husband, it is his duty to correct this travesty and defend his Chaton’s honor.

When the Damian Wayne, youngest son of Bruce Wayne, appeared at Françoise Dupont High School, you know that people are gonna stare and talk.

When he headed towards the courtyard where Adrien and Marinette were sitting at, boy are things going to get juicy.

Lila and her followers who were sitting a bit father from the outcast pair were utterly confused. They could possibly get Adrien knowing such a super hot celebrity but for him to be on good terms with Marinette too? How inconceivable. Absolutely flabbergasted.

“Hey Lila didn’t you tell us you knew him and his family?” Max brought up.

“Uhhh....” Lila knew she dug herself in a corner here. She never thought that the Damian Wayne would ever visit here. At this second rate school.

“Well, let’s go, girl!” Alya exclaimed. “I’m sure Damian just hasn’t seen you. That’s why he didn’t walk towards you.”

Before proceeding to practically drag Lila to where Damian was talking with Adrien and Marinette.

Lila, on the other hand, was cursing out Alya in a bunch of different languages in her mind while trying to come up with something to dig herself out of this mess. If they talk to Wayne, the class will realize she was lying all along.

She was not going to lose control of her kingdom like this —well, not without putting up a fight.

But when they and the rest of their classmates walked close to the trio, they were shocked when they saw Marinette playfully punching Damian in the arm.

“Okay. How the hell are you so close with Damian Wayne?” Straight off the bat, Alya was on the offense as she glared at Marinette as if it was Mari who did something wrong.

Damian answered before the bluenette could. His face was impassive and his glare cold. “I’m Ms. Dupain-Cheng’s top model for her fashion business.”

What?

Even Lila was taken aback at the news. She knew that goody two shoes likes designing but she didn’t think anybody would actual buy her stuff. She didn’t think a Wayne would like her stuff.

She could feel her fists clenched. How dare Marinette steal the spotlight again.

“I’m also Adrien’s boyfriend.” Damian continued casually as if that wasn’t a huge bombshell.

Everyone’s minds screeched to a halt.

They knew about the possibility of Adrien being gay since Lila showed him on going on a date with an unidentified but clearly male person yesterday. But they didn’t think there was actually something there.

Lila could feel her anger clouding her mind. Adrien was supposed to be hers. He was her ticket to fame and fortune.

“And what about Lila? Aren’t you guys best friends?” Alya put her hands on her hips. How could Damian just ignore someone he is close friends with but give Marinette all the attention? Lila deserves better than that.

Damian was unamused. “I don’t know her.”

“Yeah, you do.” Alya ignored Lila’s gestures to stop talking. Lila was too shy about her achievements and she was going to have her amazing best friend’s back. “She’s the one who helped your family out multiple times.”

“She did not. And I am appalled that you believe I would know a harlot like her in the first place.” Damian’s face twisted with disgust as he glanced at Liar-la like she was a mere insect. “Please. I have class and dignity.”

“Take that back!” She screeched. “You are so rude.”

“Are you honestly going to lecture me on my rudeness when you plebians are being hypocrites?”

“What? I’m not a hyprocrite.”

“Lila Rossi is a pathetic liar who begs for attention like street dogs beg for scraps. She never once saved Jagged’s cat nor does she help out with green charities. Lastly, she is not on close terms with myself nor with my family.”

“No! You’re lying!”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Ok then. Look her up on the internet. If she is as grand as you lot seem to think, she should have articles dedicated to her. Show me proof of her actions that isn’t your subpar blog and I will give you an exclusive.”

Alya’s eyes gleamed at what should be an easy challenge. But when she pulled out her phone and typed Lila’s name and what she did in the search engine, her smile disappeared.

She spent the next few minutes scouring the net for anything, any mention of a Lila Rossi that wasn’t on the LadyBlog.

She found nothing.

Lila Rossi was a fucking liar all along. And Alya and the rest of the class believed her.

“We tried to warn you.” Marinette said in a soft voice. But anyone who knew her knew she was trying to hold back her laughter.

“Marinette,” Rose cried out as she realized the class has been total jerks to the one person who always had their backs. “We were horribly wrong. Can you ever forgive us?”

She shrugged. “I forgive you. But this doesn’t mean we’re friends again. Because we’re not. Seeing how easily you drop me for that liar without even looking for any kind of proof hurts and I’m not eager to be friends again. Maybe in the future but not right now.”

“That’s goes ditto for me.” Adrien added his two cents.

Their former friends classmates wore gloomy expressions, utterly devastated at ruining their friendship with their Everyday Ladybug and Sunshine Child.

And with that, Adrien and Marinette left the courtyard, with light hearts and heads held high.

Damian shot the class a razor sharp grin. “Well, it’s been nice to meet you.”

Everyone knew he meant anything but.

“I always knew teenagers were prone to be foolish imbeciles. But seeing the collective stupidity of you people today made me realize that the bar can in fact be lowered.”

Adrien was fucking ecstatic.

Elated. Overjoyed. Jubilant. Drunk on happiness. All the synonyms associated.

Because Lila was finally exposed. The class realized what utter assholes they have been. His father will receive his due (soon according to Mari and Dami).

He was happily humming a tune as he swung his and Damian’s intertwined hands back and forth.

He was entirely grateful that Damian showed up to school today. Although he was a bit mean for Adrien’s taste.

But oh man. Payback was so sweet.

He smiled giddily.

Mister Hot-And-Sexy definitely earned himself a kiss.

#ml x dc #ml salt #ml salt fic #lila rossi salt #class salt #gaydrien #adrien is a hot mess #bamf marinette #adrien deserves better #marinette deserves better #adrien agreste x damian wayne #adridami #well would you look at that #turns out to be 3.8K fic this time #I'm still down with this ship

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samwrights · 5 years ago

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Pining After You pt. 2 [hc]

Anon requested a part 2 to Pining After You featuring Tendou, Iwa, and Bokuto 😍😍😍 this one has slightly mature themes so please read with caution!

Tendou;

Tendou must have some ridiculous masochistic side to be so ridiculously head over heels for you.

Which he totally does but we ain’t here for kinks.

Being Tendou’s best friend was really easy for you, even if no one else really wanted to be, he was funny and kind and you really didn’t mind his quirks and oddities.

For the last three years, he was practically glued to your hip. He’d walk you to class, platonically holding your hand before telling you that he would see you at lunch or be back to walk you home from school.

Literally everyone in the third year, and probably second as well, knew that Tendou loved you. Like hardcore in love with you.

He knew the basics like what your favorite color was, your favorite foods, movies you loved. He also knew your fears, and declared to try to protect you from them, even if they weren’t fears in which he could do that.

Tendou even knew more intimate details, like how you preferred to hold hands with your right one or that you always needed a blanket over your feet when the two of you cuddled up and watched a movie together.

Homework and study dates were surprisingly your guys’ thing. Whenever you felt the need to get out of the house, a trip to a local coffee shop was a must—Tendou knows your order by heart. No matter how complicated it may be.

Dinner dates were also a big favorite for the both of you. Being in high school, it was hard to afford the finer things in life, but when you could splurge on a nice meal, you and Tendou were all for it. Complete with purposely ordering different meals so you could share with the other.

Literally, all of Shiratorizawa was confused as to how you two weren’t already dating???

“It’s platonic, and it’s rather cute.” Was always Tendou’s response.

“No, you idiot, it’s one sided.” Probably Semi Semi said this, but everyone has said some variation of it.

When it came to asking you about this relationship, you were so goddamn oblivious you swore that even Ushiwaka wanted to ram his head into a wall for Tendou’s sake.

“What do you mean we’re dating?? He doesn’t like me like that?? He’s always held my hand and walked me to class since the first time we ever talked??”

💀💀💀 RIP TENDOU.

Poor boy laid it on so thick that you literally couldn’t even tell.

Y’all were a lost cause.

N e ways, the two of you are walking home from one of your dinner dates on a Saturday night, holding hands and shit.

Tendou, in a very Tendou Satori fashion, stops everything he’s doing, letting go of you when he knows that you aren’t walking forward without him.

“We graduate next week.” His voice is kinda off, no bubbly chirp or teasing drawl.

“I know, Satori, we’re in the same year ya dork.”

“And we’re going to be going away to Uni.” Okay, Tendou playing captain obvious? Weird.

“Tendou, we’re going to the same university, we decided this two years ago.” The collective pronoun sends a pang through his heart and, whether it was out of love or pain, he was unsure.

He had never been so unsure of anything in his life. Not loving you, no. He would never regret that.

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

ASDFHGKSLWNTI.

Despite all of your intimate moments, Tendou never put his lips anywhere near you, a vow you never knew he made to himself. He couldn’t—not without agreeing to throw himself off the deep end.

“Wait, what?” Instead of asking the question again, Tendou takes a step closer to you, closing the gap by wrapping his arms around your waist. You respond by reaching up on your tiptoes and holding his cheeks in the palm of your hands.

“I’ve always loved you.”

Iwaizumi;

My baby Iwa!! I’m gonna destroy him :-)

He questions himself every single day, how and why the fuck he fell in love with someone on the “meme team”.

The meme team being you, Makki, and Mattsun.

By second year, the three of you were so tight knit, it was natural that you would always be at their practices and matches.

Everybody thought you were dating one or both of them because of how protective they were of you.

You were an absolute joker. Sarcastic, dirty, walking troller—he has no idea how his crush even started.

Yes he does. It started with jokes during second year, when he overheard you saying that if Makki got a service ace during practice you’d suck his dick.

You were joking, your friends knew you were joking, but Iwaizumi went home that evening, wondering if you had followed through with it and couldn’t help but be jealous.

This went on for nearly everyday for a year, slowly killing him on the inside. The laughter that bubbled past your lips when you were with them, the way you would smile in pride when they scored a point. His favorite was when your friends would pick you up and carry you chest to chest when they won a match, parading you around with your ass juttng out just a little bit as your legs wrapped around their torso.

Why couldn’t he be the one carrying you? The reason you were smiling and laughing? He hated that he wanted to be the reason.

One particular practice, Iwaizumi had enough of it. His game was off entirely—every spike he made was either out of bounds or blocked by his teammates.

One of his spikes accidentally hit you in the face.

ASKLRNGKFOHMYGODHEHITYOUINTHEFACE.

Immediately, he rushed over to your side, his face redder than a cherry as he stuttered out an apology. “I am so sorry, are you—“

But you were laughing. That angelic, chime of a harp that was your laughter slowly transitioned into a bellowing guffaws. Why were you laughing?! Your nose was bleeding! “If you wanted to talk to me so bad, you could have done literally anything but that.”

Makki and Mattsun are in the background howling like hyenas.

Ever the gentleman he was, Iwaizumi walks you towards the athletic trainers office, trying to ignore what you had said to him moments ago. But you weren’t gonna let it go, hell no.

“An unforgettable first date.” You tried again, knowing full well your fellow third year was always staring and gawking at you. He wasn’t exactly subtle.

“This isn’t a time for jokes, your nose could be broken.” But Iwaizumi was loving the attention right now. Although, he couldn’t help but feel that you were treating him the same way you treated your friends, causing his envy to rise again.

“It’s only fair. I broke your heart, you break my nose.”

“What???” 💀💀💀

“Bro, you’re so obvious. Good to know our plan to make you jealous worked.” It. Was. PlaNED?! Iwaizumi was a murky, muddled mess of emotions—angry, jealous, embarrassed were only a few he could name off hand.

“So you knew.”

“You’re not exactly subtle, baby.” The pet name succeeds in flustering Iwaizumi even more, even as the two of you sat in the trainer’s office with an ice pack over your nose.

“So why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I wanted to tease you.” The salacious grin on your lips doesn’t go past him this time.

“I’ll show you teasing.”

Bokuto;

Bokuto weakness #38: you.

This particular weakness, Akaashi noticed, sent Bokuto through a wave of emotions, rather than immediately switching into his emo mode. Perhaps he would never understand it, but he was still able to discern which part of the wave Bokuto was in.

If his sole focus on you, Bokuto would be overwhelmingly touchy no matter who he was in contact with. Unfortunately for the setter, that usually meant him but he was used to it by now.

From what Akaashi could gather, it was because all he wanted was to physically touch you in some way, shape, or form and he had no way of doing so, so he settled on touching everybody else.

He would start getting loud—louder than normal, louder than thunder. Perhaps Bokuto thought that his volume would somehow transcend other noises in the vicinity and make you hear him, wherever you were. Didn’t matter if he was in the classroom or at the gym, he wanted to be heard.

When he decided that you didn’t, Bokuto’s emo side would come out. His mind would begin to spiral, thinking of how he would never have a chance with you and he was forever cursed to never have you by his side. Unfortunately, Akaashi could only fix this during matches, as you were present as a member of the cheerleading squad.

“Bokuto, she’s watching you.” Whether you actually were or not didn’t matter, because Bokuto would immediately bring his A game. He could never look to see if you were, because he was afraid that would make his feelings obvious for you.

It was when Akaashi wasn’t there that served to be the problem, as nobody could stop his spiraling.

It came as no surprise to him that he developed a crush on you. You were happy, upbeat, and didn’t have a mean bone in your body. Everyone else thought it was just because you were a cheerleader, but Bokuto wasn’t shallow.

It was your kindness that drew him in like the warmth and glow of a candle, or like having a hot chocolate on a cold, winter evening. Bokuto wanted that warmth in his life. But he also knew it was an unattainable dream since he didn’t even know how to strike up a conversation with you.

It wasn’t until the Fukurodani sports awards ceremony that was held at the end of the year to commemorate and celebrate all of the school teams that he had even been closer than 10 feet to you.

The event was held every year as a send off to the third year captains, with the cheerleaders walking, arms linked at the elbow, with each captain to present them to the school in addition to the celebration of their achievements. In every cheerleaders free arm was a bouquet of flowers that they were to give to their respective partners.

You just so happened to be paired up with Bokuto.

He swears up and down that his heart stopped multiple times that night, or he thought the entire event was a figment of his imagination.

“Being presented by second year cheer squad member, [lastname] [name], is captain of the Fukurodani Volleyball Club, Bokuto Koutarou!” He deadass didn’t know you were only a second year

The smile you gave when everybody began clapping for him made Bokuto melt. Like a proud girlfriend.

“Congratulations, Bokuto.” You handed him the bouquet while the two of you were still on the stage, the principal listing off the volleyball team’s accomplishments.

He couldn’t stop the word vomit from coming you.

“Will you go on a date with me?” He didn’t know how to start a normal conversation, so he just skipped straight to the point. By now, the principal’s announcements had stopped, the venue had gone quiet, and everybody in the room had heard Bokuto’s question.

...

The silence was deafening and all he wanted to do was bury his head in the nearest trash can. Why why WHY DID HE JUST SAY THAT—

“Pick me up at 8 on Saturday?” The volleyball team, his team, began slow clapping until every sports team had joined in with various screams of support coming from voices he wasn’t familiar with.

Unsure of what to do with himself, he started poking your cheek. “Is this real life or am I dreaming?”

You could only laugh before dragging him off the stage so the principal could continue with the ceremony. “It’s very real, Bokuto.” The warmth that he was desperate to feel suddenly filled his chest like hot wax.

“I didn’t think you even knew I existed.” He blurts out.

“What, you think it’s a coincidence that I was your partner for tonight?”

Wanna see a specific character? Or a different head cannon? Want to see a whole story?

Send in requests!

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sugargliderowl · 5 years ago

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Thoughts About Remus' Playlist

So as usual, this is my first reaction/rant/analysis about the playlist! This time, it’s Remus’ Playlist. I think it’s going to be cursed. But a... good cursed, if that’s a thing. As usual, feel free to add on to this! It’s good to share thoughts and talk about meanings, even making predictions about the future!

General Overview Before Listening: I love Yugen_sama ‘s artwork; her style makes me happy! Also, Remus doing that? TOTALLY HIM. Just looking at the choice of songs does mirror Roman’s playlist in a way with their own anthems, Tenacious D, maybe an etc. We’ll have to see on that. His explanation with all the emojis is definitely him, and I think that’s all I can say. Just look at it.

Reminder: Before we go on, a little reminder for your safety. The songs can be quite... a handful. If you know about Remus’ personality and interests but still wanna read the overall analysis, go to the TL:DR at the way bottom without reading the specific song analysis. If you remember the TW from the video, that really applies here. Stay safe.

Song Analysis:

This Devil’s Workday: Genius told me that this is about a criminal going mad. Yeah. The blazing trumpets and the really radio-like voice in the song is kinda creepy, but that goes with Remus as intrusive thoughts! He’s very obtrusive, and he’s everywhere without any filter. It’s a good intro to his character. The poor sack of puppies in this song goes back to his theme’s lyric, “your pet dog stuffed into a sausage” Also, the repetition of “All the people that you know / Floating on the river are logs” is like what he does to Thomas (repetitively reminding him about the bad things). The “Oh I am my own da[ng] God” goes along with all the biblical references he makes in his theme (and just the dark sides in general). All in all, this song/introduction just is him screeching, “HI, I’M YOUR INTRUSIVE THOUGHT WITHOUT THE UGH.”

Forbidden Fruit (the Duke’s Theme): If you are a Fander, you definitely are singing/screaming this on top of your lungs as you listen to this. I did that, and I love that. This song itself has a lot of good analysis online, so check them out! It was the intro song of the Duke with all his motives, thoughts, and everything beyond that, so it’s definitely on here. Also, it mirrors A Gay Disney Prince from Roman’s playlist by both being their own “I want” songs as well as their character role songs. The Creativitwins strike here once.

Double Team: Tenacious D! The Creativitwins strike here again! Wonderboy was on Roman’s playlist, which is also a Tenacious D song, so you can definitely say there are some mirroring going on here (also! YES the artist choice seems like a definite factor in choosing these songs). So this song is about having sex. Okay. And having a threesome. Okay, Remus. This song, even though it’s from the same artist as Roman, has a really different theme. If the Tenacious D selection is about the twins, would this mean that Roman wants them to be a really good team who, even though are opposites, can get along, while Remus wants them both to lose the filter and have fun? Overall, it could mean that the twins both want to get along, just in different ways which contradict one another. I’m not going into the lyric details because oof.

Man: I just noticed that Yeah Yeah Yeahs was on Patton’s and Virgil’s playlists. On Remus? I didn’t really expect that, but that’s a pleasant surprise. This song is really interesting because it’s not like the other two. This song, for me, is about someone who is obsessed with a man who would make her do anything, and she’s just hooking up with him or something. Also, the whole, “You're all gonna burn in hell / I said we're all gonna burn in hell” goes back to the biblical references that the Dark Sides make as well as the lyric of “Cause your head's not in the gutter, pal / It's in Hell.” Who is the man? Thomas, probably. This probably directs back to Remus convincing Thomas to drop the filter.

Freeee: “When man becomes possessor of the knowledge of himself, he becomes the master of his environment“ in the beginning of the song is Remus telling Thomas to learn about himself by possibly accepting Remus. The lyrics “One day they hate you / Next day they love you / I'm still yellin' "F[*]ck 'em" / I could never trust—” show how Remus doesn’t trust the society like Janus, and that’s just one of the main core of the dark sides. They don’t trust people that much. This does include Virgil since he is anxiety, so he can’t trust everything immediately. They all have different ways of showing the distrust. For Remus, it’s the layback, “frick it” attitude. “I don’t feel pain anymore” and “nothin’ hurts me anymore” seems to be a potential for Remus angst of being rejected from all the sides and being the “Evil Twin”. Does he care or not care? No one knows yet.

In The Room Where You Sleep: Sleep from the shorts and Virgil will both react really strongly to this song. Why? “There's something in the shadows / In the corner of your room / A dark heart is beating / And waiting for you” (Telltale Heart reference-). Yeah. Remus listening to this would go back to that end card of Remus being creepy (and eating deodorant). Also, it possibly demonstrates Virgil and Remus’ relationship; Remus scared Virgil because of his thoughts and conjectures. The repetition of “You better run / You better hide” would also contribute to this thought, definitely. But then again, that melancholy keyboard... Why that montage at the end?

No Reason Boner: The song is very catchy and funny. But ASDKLFAJSD. This is definitely Remus’ type of song. That means that the sexual information is given control to Remus, and he probably uses the information for his jokes and intrusive thoughts. This song is what Remus' personality is: goofy yet NSFW. This intrusive thought without the ugh is probably lovable in this fandom because of that. Also, I don’t know why, but he can have that naivete even though he’s the one in charge of stuff like that. A nice juxtaposition right there.

I Told You I Was Freaky: This playlist is a RIDE. VERY MUCH A RIDE. Just all the sexual references in this song are just 1000% Remus. The song itself is quite whispery, and I guess that goes with Remus because he whispers the dirty stuff into Thomas’ ears. Well, whisper is very much an understatement. But I have to admit, if you listen to the lyrics, there are some very creative ways that people don’t think of. It’s usually a bed, a car, or in a club or party, but the lyrics are more than that. Then, we can assume how capable and skilled Remus is as the Dark Creativity; he’s as good as Roman, just in a different category.

Queef: If you don’t know what a queef is, I didn’t too. I just looked it up while I was typing this. Wait, isn’t Awkwafina in like a movie? This, like that last song, is basically him going off on his creativity and wordplay. In future episodes, I would love to see how Remus can go off with his wordplay because if Roman’s good at all the nicknames, and if Remus is basically him but darker, that means he’s good. Like really good. This song is also very, very catchy, and I kinda jammed through it because of the beat.

Manners: According to genius, this song is a "sexually-charged bad b[*]tch anthem on which Ashnikko displays her “IDGAF”-attitude.” Basically, the vine, “I’M A BAD B*TCH YOU CAN’T KILL ME” would equate to Remus as well as the meme, “Aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you want to go APESH*T-.” This might connect with his facade in a way because he seems to be naive and goofy at times (although NSFW), but when he drops it, he drops it fast, and he drops it hard. For example, his facade drops when he threatened Logan in DWIT, and his facade can be picked back up quickly, too. This song also has the element of “Frick this world” attitude, which Remus showed in the previous songs, and I stan him. As the fandom did an edit once, he would definitely wear acrylic nails if he wants to. A thing that I did notice though is the lyric “Fight or flight, I’m fighting for my life.” HI VIRGIL!

Ben Bernanke: I don’t know who Spencer is, but a big OOF for him. This song’s structure is really unique because I have no clue where it’s going, and it’s going with Remus’ personality of just randomness and intrusivity (is that a word?). ALSO, the continuing snakes in these songs. So is Spencer Janus in our context? If so, Remus is quite mad at Janus. I do see why though, after that last video implying that he’s the Evil Twin. “Do you think you can mock me, Spencer? / Do you think you can capture my essence / And throw it back at me with / Humor and rhetorical devices?” Gosh, Janus and Remus could have beef with one another. Also, that “Avada Kedavra” and “I’m... a furious magician” could definitely foreshadow something in the future. Additionally, “You're the architect of my dreams, Spencer / You plan them, and build them on blue paper / And hand them to me / And then I dream them, Spencer.”

Worldwide Torture: “I never come second place / Always been a big disgrace Smell the fear, I know you see / High achiever (Yeah, that's me!)” Welcome to Remus’ angst that we do not know much about yet. It’s great. It’s just like Roman, but in a more “I’m a disappointment” way! However, what’s quite different is that Remus is pissed. Beyond pissed about it, so he acts up unlike Roman who tries to mask it. Because he knows that he’s not regarded nicely with any of the sides, he wants to molest them and destroy the world, shown by the lyrics “A pure violation of God's great creation / It’s an infestation, it’s world domination.” I think this issue might pop up more frequently as more episodes come out, but for now, this is my assumption. Out of context, “The highest score” goes with that last episode, since Remus was present as the 80085.

Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na): I DIDN’T EXPECT THIS TO BE HERE, BUT I LOVE IT. THANK YOU. WOOOOOO YASSSS. This is actually one of the “pump me up” songs. First, “Eight legs to the wall, hit the gas, kill them all” is, obviously, a spider in the song, but in our context, we can also call it an octopus because Remus’ animal is an octopus, which has 8 tentacles (6 legs and 2 arms). Second, Remus is PISSED. He definitely has a punk aesthetic, shown by all the songs about flipping the world. The lyrics “I’d rather to to Hell / Than be in purgatory” definitely shows his determination of doing so since he’s saying that he won’t sit back. Somehow, for me it’s a growth from the beginning of “I don’t care” to “I actually care, and I’m fighting for that sh*t”. Pissed off Remus is scary Remus.

Trash People: Trash rat boiiiii. But this song is more than that. It’s showing that trash people aren’t really... trash people. “ Art is love and love is sloppy / Nothing is all pure / Nothing is all dirty” really shows the whole duality aspect in the entire series. Everything is gray. And that’s what Roman and Remus need to work on since they were divided by the black and white mentality. If Remus is okay with the gray morality, then who would be the one that he’s directing this song to? Roman. “Wearing a smile and a heart on my sleeve” though. I don’t get this lyric, but then again, tell me what you guys think! Does this mean that Remus is actually trying to be like this, or is he mocking Roman... The “no time to start over” also sounds really ominous.

Tranz: Gorillaz! Same album as Roma-OKAY THIS IS GETTING REAL. The last one with this artist had the lyrics, “I’m the lonely twin, the left hand... I don’t want this isolation.” People were screaming about this because, of course, this refers to Remus, but who knew that this was going to pop up again! That’s why I loved the artist connections during these analysis. Anyways, this goes back to the twin duality, but more of an angry tune. Take a look at this: “Do you look like me? Do you feel like me? / Do you turn into your effigy? / Do you dance like this forever?” Remember Roman’s whole monologue about Remus as someone he sees in the mirror with all the things he doesn’t want to be? This song is Remus asking Roman about that statement. Keep in mind that effigy is a sculpture that is usually used to mock or burn and is used as a negative connotation (thank you my English teacher). Remus doesn’t like that comparison at all, and I’m more concerned for him now than I was ever before after Janus saying that too.

Death as a Fetish: Wow, this is sad. “And I will never be good enough, quietly / And you will never be good enough, just like me.” If the twins have the time to reconcile, this is probably the first thing they need to help out on each other. Remus knows more about his twin than we all thought, and he knows that both of them have problems about that. On the other hand, this song, when I looked at some of the annotations on genius, has a sad connotation. Life is so short, and it ends, and you know for sure that death is there at all times with that repetition of “death as a fetish” after everything we find positive. For Remus, I guess he knows about this. He’s a deeper character than we credit him as.

Don’t Stop Me Now: TONIIIIGHT IM GONNA HAVE MYSEEEELF A GOOD TIIME- okay. This song is something I scream my lyrics to. I also didn’t expect this, but in a calmer manner (because I wasn’t calm when this was on), yes please. Basically, DON’T STOP ME NOWWW! I don’t know how to explain this in a deeper way. Yeah. I LOVE THIS SONG THOUGH!

Things I Don’t Remember: “Things I don't remember / How the hell'd we get here? / How the hell did we get here?” This can be interpreted in a lot of ways. It could either be how all the sides came to be, how Roman and Remus came to be by both having the role of creativity, or just where Thomas is mentally since they are all Thomas. I think that’s depending on how you want to go about it. The last point is the strongest for me because of this one phrase of “There were endless conversations / No one's mouths were really moving” maybe referring to the sides’ conversations around Thomas’ dilemmas. They sometimes only make it worse until someone has to kick in to change the viewpoint around, and that’s the reason why it feels like nobody’s mouths were really moving. Also, dressed up alligators? Okay, Remus.

F*ck It!: (Censored by yours truly with her notecard of “note your language”) The album name of taxidermy... fitting. Back to the song. “Why abstain? Why jump in line?” and “They say don't take the risk you're sure to fail... But what's the worst that could happen, end up in a coffin? / Isn't that where we're all headed anyway?” really highlights Remus’ spontaneity, which is a big factor in intrusive thoughts. This is back to the “frick this”, but more a “frick it I’m doing that sh*t, and I don’t care about the consequences” (going back to Na Na Na on that). Also, “'Cause it's easier to lie to yourself than to face reality” reminded me of Janus, but does this also apply to Remus in a way? Or does this apply to all the sides who are lying to themselves, especially Roman? Anyways, Remus’ spontaneity is something to kinda look up to at times. Not... not all the time.

fReAkY 4 Life: Dorian Electra... the one behind Flamboyant from ROMAN’S PLAYLIST! The Creativitwins music solidarity number I-forgot-to-count. To the lyrics! “They just don't understand me / I'm not like them, I'm freaky” does go to all the other sides and Thomas because Remus really stands out from all the other sides. Silly yet NSFW, weird, and very new. Also, he seems to want some attention from all the sides with “ I like to be in the spotlight / Step on the scene ’cause it feels right / I freakin' scream, baby, all night / I do it, I do it, do it all the time,” but is it a distraction or legitimate attention? I love how this song is the finale because this song is the fireworks that says Remus. All the lyrics really match him, and especially with the “I hear what they call me / I hear what they say / I'm not very cool, yeah / But I'll never change,” it cements how Remus thinks.

TL:DR:

Remus is a character deeper than we already know him as. There are a lot of him that hasn’t been introduced to us since he’s pretty new. He has been on for about 2-3 episodes (only 1 with his full participation), and he never really interacted with Roman nor Janus, both who has a history with our little gremlin. Yes, Remus is the Duke of Dark Creativity and intrusive thoughts; there are so many references that are R-rated in this playlist, but in the end, he is another side. He more than the trash boi who gleefully talks about sensitive topics.

He still has a connection with Roman with all the overlaps in their insecurities and artists, and he’s probably the one who’s more knowledgeable about their relationship as a twin. He could even want to reconcile with his twin, but in a way that Roman would not approve. That doesn’t mean that Remus is kinda mad at Roman. A fun house mirror.

Next, He doesn’t want to change himself in the sake of others although he knows that the others hate him for being him, and he’s actively going against it, not caring about the consequences. That’s what drives him to be really good at his job. He’s as good as Roman on doing his job. Along with that, he wants Thomas to embrace him as one of the sides and come over to the dark side of creativity. It’s one of Remus’ biggest dreams: acceptance. I want to see how this plays out with him and especially him.

Finally, he’s pissed. Very pissed. After all the berating at his back from all the other sides, including Janus, he’s PISSED. He’s ready to throw hands and wreck the world. I’m starting to be worried for how his character would develop. If he goes apesh*t, I’m getting popcorn and coke. Maybe drink every time we see him go feral. Eat a popcorn every time someone is disgusted by Remus.

Overall, I love him more than I ever did because of this playlist since music is the window to the soul. It’s like knowing a person and learning about them. Also, by doing this, it really develops the character and lets the people look inside the character’s deepest thoughts and desires. I don’t know if there will be any additions to these, but if not, I really want to thank the entire group who made this happen! I found some songs that I really love now, and it’s such a good way for the fanders to have fun! (also, the content inspired from this is going to be very interesting)(the ANGST)

Thanks for reading if you came til here, and feel free to add on to this! I would love to see how you guys think about this playlist!

#sanders sides #thoughts #rambles #thomas sanders #side tracks #remus sanders #analysis #dukey #song analysis #songs #there are some bops here #and i love doing these analysis #lyric analysis #lyrics #sanders sides analysis #roman sanders #creativitwins #janus sanders

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ricksbowen · 5 years ago

Text

one more time | pt. 6

IN WHICH: y/n goes out with ej, ricky’s feelings are too much to bear, y/n goes back to the root of her fear of love.

INSPIRATION: everything has changed — taylor swift ft. ed sheeran, atlantis — seafret

WARNING: this has implications of sex. this series is usually heated, but this part has no smut in it. but i will say that everyone here is 18+ and in their senior year.

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6

i need help asap. come over

You sent Ricky that text an hour ago. Usually, he’d be at your house the moment he read it, willing to help out with whatever you needed help with. Usually, he read your texts with a hint of a smile gracing his lips, replying back with some stupid reaction meme he screenshotted off of Instagram.

But when Ricky read your text, his heart plummeted and his mood deflated.

He knew what you needed help with. You had told him everything about your date with Ej, from the time to the places he was bringing you. Dinner, then the movies, then to some of the rarest views in Utah. It sounded like a date that would’ve fallen out of a coming-of-age movie, and Ricky felt like the teenager who got screwed over in every corner.

He didn’t respond for an hour. Ricky kept his mind off of you by writing lyrics in his notebook, guitar in hand as he tried to sort his emotions out. He didn’t want to know what he was feeling, but he wasn’t stupid. Ricky wasn’t blind to the way his heart rate picked up when you laughed, or how an unstoppable smile lifted his lips when you told a terrible joke.

He wasn’t blind to the way he looked at you in a new way when you laid in front of him. You didn’t see it, thank God, but Ricky knew you were going to figure him out at some point.

Ricky prayed that when that day came around, you wouldn’t cut him out of your life.

It took an hour for him to finally drop his things and grab his skateboard. You didn’t live next door, but you lived in the same neighborhood as him. It was helpful for times like these, when one of you needed the other in times of toil ( though this was probably the opposite ).

Ricky walked up to your door, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. He raised his fist, knocking at your door twice. He heard you cursing from inside, your footsteps loud at you practically tripped down the stairs. You threw open the door, and Ricky suddenly couldn’t breathe.

The black slip-on dress you wore fit you perfectly, gleaming against the setting sun from outside. Your hair was clipped back with two red clips, and the dangling earrings you wore matched the two necklaces that adorned your neck. Your face was only half done, the powder white against your cheeks as you gaped at him.

“Holy shit, what took you so long?” you asked with an exasperated look, unaware of his lovestruck expression. You reached for his hand, the simple action sending lightning running up and down his arms, and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him.

“I needed help with what I was gonna wear,” you explained nonchalantly, walking up your stairs. The lack of Ricky’s footsteps following yours made you turn to look at him with a frown. “Are you coming?” you asked, worry glazing over your eyes. “You’re being weird.”

The worried tone in your voice made him snap back into reality. He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he quickly kicked his shoes off and leaned his skateboard against the wall. “Right.” Ricky followed you up to your room, regret filling his stomach for even coming over in the first place.

“Anyway, I needed your help for what to wear,” you repeated, sitting in your chair and leaning forward to continue your makeup. Your room was a mess, with your clothes strewn every which way and shoes scattered on the colorful mess.

“Obviously,” Ricky murmured, observing the mess and making you snort.

“I found what I was gonna wear though,” you continued on, occasionally looking at him from your mirror. “But since I like you, lover boy, I’m letting you stay.” You grinned at him through the mirror, smile dropping at the disappointed look he had as he sat on your bed. Something was up; normally, he’d respond with his nickname for you, paired with a witty remark. But Ricky Bowen was being quiet, seemingly deep in thought as he stared at your floor.

“What you said that night when I called helped me out a lot.” Nothing. That didn’t get him to respond. “My parents don’t know I’m going out, so this night may be my last.” Nothing. “A girl asked me if you were single today and I said yes.”

Ricky frowned. But the girl wasn’t you.

You resorted to silence, your theories running wild in your head as you finished your makeup. You stood up, brushing off your dress and walking up to Ricky. Wordlessly, you took his hands into yours and held them. “Whatever is happening to you,” you started, making him look up at you. If you didn’t look beautiful before, you looked like a goddess now. “I hope you know that I love you. A whole fuckin’ lot.”

Not in the way he wanted you to.

“Really?” Ricky forced out past the dryness in his throat, the beaming smile you made making him turn into a puddle of feelings.

“Really. And you know I don’t like saying that, so,” you shrugged. “You must be pretty special.”

Ricky couldn’t help but chuckle at that, shaking his head to himself as he stood up. Your hands still held his, his warm ones clashing with your cold ones. “You’re something else, L/N.”

You shrugged yet again, the cheeky smile on your glossed lips bright. “I try. Hey—“

Your doorbell rang. You and Ricky sucked in a breath, both for terribly different reasons, and you pulled your hands away from his.

“Oh, God he’s here.” You rushed for your jean jacket, throwing it over your shoulders. “Fuck, I was so confident until I realized this is actually happening— can you get the door, please?” you asked, not looking up at you rummaged through your closet for your handbag.

The walk to your door felt like a walk straight into death, and Ricky found himself silently encouraging himself before he opened your door. Ej stood outside, a bouquet of crimson roses ( Ricky knew you preferred white ones ) in his hands and dressed in a simple white button-up and black jeans.

“You’re not Y/N,” Ej stated, making Ricky grin and shrug his shoulders

“No shit,” Ricky remarked, reluctantly opening the door wider for Ej. “She’s upstairs,” he said curtly, words short and cold as he let Ej in. Ricky shut the door behind him, pressing his back against it with a small sigh.

The sound of your bedroom door closing made both of the boys look up to your stairs. A grin appeared on Ej’s face at the sight of you walking down. Ricky only stared, mouth slightly agape. He saw you while you were getting ready, sure, but you still made him breathless. You had never radiated so much beauty, nerves, and excitement in your life.

“Wow,” Ej said, making you smile sheepishly as you pressed a small kiss to his lips. His arms snaked around your waist despite the flowers he had in his hands, smiling against your lips.

That hurt Ricky on a whole new level.

“Not too bad yourself,” you murmured, hiding your nervousness behind your confident comments. You looked at Ricky, smiling gratefully at him, yet not getting one back.

“I gotta go,” Ricky mumbled, words quick as he pulled his shoes on.

“Why?” you asked, still in Ej’s arms as you looked at him. “Ri, are you—“

“I’m fine,” Ricky snapped, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he grabbed his board. He saw the way your excited look dropped into hurt, but Ricky shoved off the guilt and opened your door. “Have a good time,” he forced out, slamming the door behind him.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧⠀.

The sight of your profile picture asking for FaceTime yet again made him gulp nervously.

Ricky knew his outburst would raise your suspicions. He regretted it the moment he left, the image of you kissing Ej replaying over and over in his head like a movie. He knew he had to pick up the phone; not picking up would only make you question him more.

He pressed the green button, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the screen. Your face came up, your makeup still on your face and your dress replaced by a sweater and sweatpants. The usual smile didn’t appear on your face like it usually did; you were staring at him with worry.

“Are you okay?” you asked, gazing at him through the screen. “You kinda left in a hurry, and I thought—“

“I’m fine,” Ricky interrupted, knowing fully well that he was the opposite. He couldn’t let you know. He knew the way you’d react, how you’d cut all ties with him in fear of getting hurt yet again. “How was the date?”

“Pretty good! It felt good being out there with him,” you said with a slight smile, and Ricky immediately knew what came next.

“But?”

“But,” you drawled, shaking your head to yourself. “We both agreed that we were better off as friends. It felt weird,” you scrunched your nose in slight disgust. “Like, we were siblings. It just felt wrong.”

It was almost ridiculous how regretful Ricky felt for feeling relieved.

“I guess I’m a little happy. I mean, if it went somewhere it’d probably just end up broken,” you rambled, eyes set on the sleeve of your sweater as you picked at it.

Ricky frowned. Was this how you thought of every relationship? He never saw you as the pessimistic type ( in his opinion, you were more of a realist ), yet hearing you say that every relationship went downhill surprised him. “You can’t think of every relationship as that.”

“I’m not wrong,” you protested, eyes snapping up to him. “It always goes that way. Someone either falls out of love, break up, or they..” your voice trailed off, eyes blanking out for a second as you went into a ‘stare.’

“Cheat?” Ricky finished softly, making you tune back into reality and nod.

“Yeah. Cheat.”

“Luka! I got take out!” You set the food on his kitchen counter, looking down at your phone and laughing softly at the texts from the theatre group chat that you were added to ( despite the fact that you didn’t join the musical ). Luke gave you a key to his house ‘just in case,’ and while you normally didn’t use it, you only used it for surprises like this one.

The silence that followed after your yell made you furrow your brows. Normally, he’d come down the stairs at your voice, saying something along the lines of, ‘Wow, I love you,’ that would make you blush like a schoolgirl. But there was nothing that followed, and you found yourself walking up the steps of his stairs to try and find him.

“Luka?” your voice was hesitant as you peeked into the rooms leading up to his. But as you neared his door with each step, you heard a sound that made your face contort in confusion.

Moaning.

“Dear God, if he’s watching porn,” you muttered to yourself, walking up to his room and slowly opening it. You expected better, the belief of Luka being the perfect boyfriend strong in your mind as you opened his door.

The sight of Luka kissing another girl, her blond hair splayed all over his pillow as his hips moved from under the sheets sent your idea of him crashing down. He didn’t even see you, too engrossed in the beautiful girl he was hovering over as his speed picked up. Her perfectly manicured hand ran through his black hair, the action making you feel sick to your stomach as you watched. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, disbelief, shame, sadness, and anger washing over you in hard waves.

Luka saw you when you gulped. The girl below him let out a loud yelp, her hands rushing at his sheets to cover herself while Luka stared at you.

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, your hands making no effort in trying to wipe them off. You didn’t even realize you were crying, your eyes dead set on Luka’s shirtless form. He didn’t even try and protest.

“I,” you forced out, swallowing down the lump in your throat as tears pressed hard against your eyes. It was all too much, the want to cry and scream and hit him too much to bear, yet there you stood. Frozen like a deer in the headlights. “I wish you the best,” you muttered past your tears, turning away from them and slamming the door behind you.

You drove to Ricky’s that night. You were sobbing, tears falling down your face like a never-ending stream. You hit your hand on your steering wheel angrily, the realization that he never loved you back hitting you over and over. It had to be a joke to him. The days you spent in bed with him and out, laughing and kissing and playing around as if you were both the perfect couple. Everyone else thought you were.

If only they could see you now.

You rang Ricky’s doorbell, the wind blowing hard against you as you stood outside. The sun had already set, 11 PM hitting the clock as Ricky opened the door. His smile dropped at your tearful eyes.

“Y/N?”

You didn’t say anything, only falling into his arms and letting out a sob. You were a mess of tears and cries, your face buried into Ricky’s shirt as you let your emotions out. Ricky brought you up to his room, laying down on his bed and letting you move into his side, your head on his chest and his hands running through your hair.

It was 12 when you calmed down, the tears still falling yet no sound leaving you other than your sniffles.

“He cheated,” you mumbled, sniffing yet again and feeling Ricky tense up. “I saw them and— and heard their moans and I can’t get them out of my head,” you whispered, voice breaking as you spoke. Your arms were wrapped around him, holding him close to you as if your life depended on it.

“What’d you do?” Ricky murmured, silently scheming a revenge plan in his head. He looked down at you, heart breaking at the hiccups and sniffled you emitted.

“Wished them the best,” you replied. “Trash belongs with trash.” You felt a chuckle rumble up in his chest, the sound making a ghost of a smile appear on your lips. Silence washed over you both, the only sound being your small sniffles until you broke the silence. “Is this what love is?”

You sounded so innocent, so heartbroken asking the question, and Ricky quickly shook his head as he leaned down to press a kiss onto your head. “No. Love doesn’t leave you like this.” He sounded so sure of himself despite his past, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.

You gazed ahead of you, sniffing again.

You changed that night. Your mindset on relationships, on feeling, on love changed that night with one broken relationship, and a new fear bloomed. You were never the same after that night.

Ricky knew that.

————————— 𑁍༅ཾ༚ ————————

TAGS: @tomshufflepuff, @myrandom-fandomlife, @softpeteparker, @sarcarstic-space-weirdo, @particularcth, @lifes-a-party-youre-a-boy, @paniniirae, @supersouthy, @jointherebellion215, @gabyer0309, @hannarudick, @broken-from-fandoms, @complete-trash-101, @ssprayberrythings, @raven-waheda, @timelordtardis, @chubby-cheek-calum, @nicole-lynne, @loserr-likeme, @whoseblogsthis, @stxfxniexreads, @cherrydolan, @allaroundaddict, @of-outerspace, @blueevelvt, @kitykatnumber, @rocketdolans, @givemebooksorgivemedeath, @80sthottie, @lawstudentbydayfangirlbynight, @cynthia060, @hollandary, @kitykatnumber, @hueycat2004

#joshua bassett #joshua bassett angst #joshua bassett hcs #joshua bassett imagines #joshua bassett x reader #ricky bowen #ricky bowen angst #ricky bowen hcs #ricky bowen headcannons #ricky bowen imagines #ricky bowen imagine #ricky bowen smut #ricky bowen x reader #joshua bassett smut #joshua bassett imagine #ej caswell #hsmtmts #high school musical: the musical: the series

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4haechie · 5 years ago

Text

son of apollo!donghyuck

pairing: son of apollo!donghyuck x child of athena!reader genre: fluff, comedy, some adventure/action, pjo au, e2l au words: 3,173 warning: couple of curse words here n there a/n: i reference a bunch of pjo characters in this so if u haven’t read pjo *crowd booing*

so donghyuck’s the son of apollo right

there’s like no arguing when it comes to that

he’s extremely talented at singing and making music, dancing, rapping, songwriting, so he’s no doubt apollo’s offspring

and he’s naturally gifted at archery as well

you can’t spell haechan without ACE teehee

u on the other hand

you’re athena’s child

you love to read and write you’re incredibly smart ofc

you love competing and winning and taking part in strategy making to bring your opponents DOWN 💅🏼

athena’s the goddess of wisdom as well as warcraft so needless to say you’re exceptional in both fields

you’re not just textbook smart, no no, you’re able to apply all the knowledge you learn…well…irl

not to mention you’re good with all kinds of weapons

ur fave weapons include swords and spears :D

you’re okay w knives too!!! and daggers!!! you’re not picky

but you’re better w longer blades just cuz u have more experience w them

fun fact: you’re the head of the athena cabin and donghyuck’s the head of the apollo cabin

you’re both great leaders, always doing your best to make the best strategies to win capture the flag, the chariot races, and other fun activities chiron plans for the campers 😁

but . you guys are Sworn Enemies

actually the better term to use would be “rivals”

you guys r So competitive to the point where you actually developed a rivalry during your first few years at camp half-blood

donghyuck LOVES to win but so do you… so obv he’s gonna go out of his way to make sure he/his cabin wins

that doesn’t mean you’ve ever backed down from his challenges…

if he’s competitive you’re twice as competitive

one day after breakfast during your fifth year at camp when you’re both about 18, chiron decides to host a good old game of capture the flag

u know . for old times’ sake 😼

once he makes the announcement you immediately turn to your cabin mates

“we have to win no matter what”

“y/n, it’s just capture the flag. we’re not fighting gaea”

“bitch are u in or not”

the entire dining hall is buzzing with excitement

nothing makes a demigod’s day like a capture the flag announcement 😌

chiron suddenly grabs the megaphone again and calls out “this time however there’s a little twist,” he chuckles as everybody goes silent

you raise an eyebrow

“you’ll be in teams of course. everybody has to play. there’s twenty cabins, so there will be ten teams of two cabins each. i’ll pair you guys up myself. each pair gets a flag–so there’s ten flags in total. the game will be won by the pair who manages to collect all flags and brings them back to their base before anyone has the chance to steal their own flag.”

the demigods burst into intense chatter and discussion once more

you turn your head back to your siblings and tilt your head in slight confusion

you’ve never played capture the flag in teams before

“anyone but apollo. i’m literally begging. sam, pray to athena right now”

“y/n RELAX”

“i think if we’re partners with apollo’s cabin i’ll actually jump into tartarus”

“…”

“what? percy and annabeth survived” 🙄

chiron pulls out a scroll and calls out the pairings one by one

poseidon and demeter, hades and ares (good luck to them), so on and so forth

your heart keeps racing . athena’s name has not been called out yet

and just like that your worst fear comes true

“athena cabin with apollo cabin. the game will commence in thirty minutes, which is how much time you have to prepare. good luck and stay safe!”

you drop your head into your palm (aka head in hands meme jpg)

“this is the worst day of my entire life”

“y/n, you’re hands down the most dramatic person i’ve ever met”

maybe it’s just you–bc your siblings seem fine with the apollo kids

they have so many apollo cabin friends :(

curse u and donghyuck’s little rivalry that the entire camp and chiron knows about

so him putting yall together definitely was not a coincidence cough cough

can u blame him

🌤🌈 he just wants all of u to get along 🌈🌤

he’s seen w his own two centaur eyes what happens when demigods fight between themselves

it’s not healthy

he needs u guys to get along bc u and donghyuck are some of the best demigods at camp rn

ur quick wits and amazing sword skills

his position as the camp’s best archer

imagine how powerful yall would be if u two worked together

if only you got along from the start.. but nooooo

ur egos r just too high F

but anyway, back to the present

you’re sitting there, head in your hands, dreading this already when some of the apollo kids swagger over to your guys’ table

donghyuck is in front of them as he scoffs after seeing your dreadful state

“why the sad face, y/n?”

you lift your head up to see him hovering over your seat and roll your eyes

you get up and your siblings follow

you’re just gonna have to make do. you don’t have time to complain

the thing is

you’ve only lost capture the flag once 👎🏼

a few summers ago the apollo cabin defeated the entire camp leaving everybody speechless

it’s true they didn’t defeat JUST you but somehow you thought it was personal

you had the PERFECT record 😕

zero losses . only wins

but bc of the apollo kids your cabin’s record was tarnished

which is sorta why you started hating them (esp donghyuck their leader) so much

donghyuck caught on immediately and made it a point to compete just as hard as u

so yea. that’s how you became rivals

he knows how much ur gonna hate working with him but u don’t really have a choice now do u :/

so he knows exactly why u have a sad face

but this is donghyuck we’re talking about

just bc yall r “rivals” doesn’t mean he’s not gonna tease u 😂😂😂

(or maybe he teases u bc he thinks ur cute and he hopes one day u realise him teasing is actually donghyuck for flirting 🤭)

“you know damn well why, lee donghyuck”

“oh c’mon i think it’ll be fun! if we combine our skills, we definitely have a hundred percent chance of winning”

you cross your arms and glance at your siblings who just shrug in agreement

you sigh loudly

“don’t even think about fucking this is up, donghyuck. and just so we’re clear, i’m in charge”

he laughs, “yup! got it”

so you start talking strategy

you only have 30 minutes so you need to make the best of it

you divide the two cabins into pairs so that an athena and an apollo kid will be paired together and in charge of smth diff

you have plenty of people on your team – 5 in athena’s cabin and 5 in apollo’s cabin

some will handle weapons and safety gear, some will handle mapping out the playing area which was basically the entirety of the woods, some will be setting up traps near your team’s flag to prevent others from coming close

30 minutes quickly pass and after dividing the work and planning your strategy with donghyuck and friends you turn your attention back to chiron who has his megaphone in hand

everyone’s told to gather outside the dining hall at the open field before the game commences

you, donghyuck, and your teammates briefly talk strategy once more . just to make sure everybody knows what they’re supposed to do

“let the game begin!” chiron blows a loud whistle and the demigods scramble out of the field, going to their designated flag locations

your spot is near a little creek, but the forest around your flag is quite dense so u figure it’s relatively hard to locate

it’s not that late so the afternoon sun makes your skin glisten with sweat

“damn, can you tell your dad to chill tf out for a while,” you tell donghyuck jokingly

he just rolls his eyes but on the inside he’s kinda glad you’re being casual with him rather than 😡😡😡😡😡 like u normally are

u don’t know what it is about him today but u swear he’s acting different around u

he wasn’t… as annoying while discussing strategy ????

he actually ?????? listened ?????? to what u had to say 🤔🤔🤔🤔

he didn’t argue, he didn’t even throw around witty burns like he usually does w/o hesitation

u were like… is he ok

little do u know!!! he actually l*kes u 🤭🤭🤭

well… it’s not a 100% fact that HE himself knows as well

but his siblings caught on to his weird behaviour n figured smth was up

mark being one of hyuck’s closest friends n siblings in the apollo cabin, realised he was acting weird ever since yall got grouped together

he seemed nervous ⁉️ which he never ever is

he’s like the most confident person mark’s ever known

so mark was like *thinks*

after putting two and two together mark came to the conclusion that he might have a small crush on u

bc hyuck kept glancing over at u, kept talking abt how ur a good leader (he’s never gonna tell YOU that tho. he crossed his heart on that one)

mark was like i didn’t even ask but ok

mark was confused at first tho cuz everybody and their mom knows about your guys’ rivalry so why tf would hyuck have a crush on someone he considers his rival

mark decides not to get ahead of himself bc hey!!! maybe he doesn’t have a crush, maybe he just thinks ur a good leader

like that’s it u know?

LMAO 🤫

so anywayz where was i

ah right

the flag

OK SO ur team’s flag is yellow ! :D

it’s like the colour of sunflowers

you and donghyuck r in charge of guarding the flag while ur team members scout around for the other flags

easy peasy

you and donghyuck are at your base now, weapons drawn just in case

the flag is hung on a poll couple feet taller than you

you’re dressed in ur usual training clothes – a pair of washed out shorts, a very old orange camp half-blood shirt; your sword’s sheath hanging from one of the belt loops of your shorts

donghyuck’s dressed similarly – a pair of blue ripped jeans, the same orange camp shirt tucked into them, but he has a purple flannel on, which he takes off and ties around his waist

“it’s so freaking hot,” he says, mentally agreeing with the comment u made about apollo earlier

“tell me about it”

there’s a silence that follows, the only sound heard is the subtle flow of the creek water

you’re thankful for the silence

it’s easier to keep an ear open for opponents on their way to steal your flag

just as you think about it, an ares and a hades kid approach your base

they’re on the other side of the creek, less than ten to fifteen feet away

“hi y/n,” the hades kid you’re kind of close to says

you shoot him a fake smile before holding your sword in front of you

donghyuck pulls out an arrow from his quiver and nocks it in his bow, aiming for the two demigods in front of you

the creek isn’t that deep, so the two demigods cross it with ease

they have their weapons drawn; they’re now a couple of feet away from you and more importantly the flag

no words are said as donghyuck lets his arrow fly and knock the hades’ kid sword out of his hands

he didn’t use an arrow with a sharp tip, you note

the hades’ kid stumbles backwards, imbalanced after he gets unarmed

you stand your ground as the ares’ kid scrambles forward, attacking you with her sword

your blades clash defiantly

you continue to spar with all your might

from the corner of your eye you see that the hades’ kid, sword back in hand, is battling donghyuck on your left

the flag is right behind you and donghyuck; you can’t let the two demigods get near it

you and the ares kid are still battling each other, putting all your strength into making sure she surrenders

but u should know better

ares and athena kids have many similarities like their love for winning, their confidence in battle, etc.

it’s like looking in a mirror

you don’t have anything against this particular ares kid, though

“c’mon, y/n, give up already”

that REALLY makes your blood boil

you never give up, no matter what

with one final blow of your sword, you knock her sword out of her hands, making her think she distracted you with her words

she goes flying back, half her body landing in the creek water

her sword lies in between you and her, but you doubt she’ll have the courage to fight again

the hades kid sees this and quickly scrambles away from hyuck, picking up the ares kid’s sword and giving her a hand up

“this is why i hate you and your siblings–your huge ego always gets in the way,” you hear the hades kid grumble to his partner as they run away from you, shame written all over their defeat

hyuck laughs and wipes sweat from his forehead

you can’t help but laugh either

you love it here at 🧡 camp half-blood 🧡

a few moments pass as your teammates emerge from the dense woods, each pair with a different colour flag held between them

you smile in victory

you quickly bring down your flag from its pole and give it to hyuck

“me? it was your plan…”

“yeah, but i couldn’t have done it without you, hyuck”

he almost passes out at your choice of nickname

back at the main hall, chiron announces your team as the winner, and that the prize yall being excused from doing chores all week long!!!!

it’s not much, but hey, at least you and hyuck ended up working together and winning the game, right?

later, hyuck pulls you aside from your cabin mates, and walks you to the lakeside

you two sit at the deck, side by side, watching the water doing nothing in particular

you watch as hyuck swings his feet lightly, his toes barely touching the water

“y/n, do you hate me?” donghyuck asks out of the blue

you’re like 😳 what

now that he asks you that . like straight up . it makes u think

do u REALLY hate him

or do u just hate losing to him

“why would i hate you?” you question back

“i don’t know? i guess because of our, um, rivalry thing i thought you can’t stand me”

you play with the beads of your camp necklace

“i don’t hate you, donghyuck. i just hate losing. i guess it’s the athena in me,” you laugh at how lame you sound

“i hate losing too, but i don’t hate you, in case you’re wondering.”

he takes a deep breath

“i know we started going against one another ‘cause of that one time my cabin won capture the flag, but i don’t want things to stay this way,” he pushes his hair back

“i guess what i’m saying is… i like working with you.” he pauses

“yeah,” he says, as if more convinced now, “and i would really like to get to know you better,” he clears his throat, very clearly embarrassed

you laugh at his flustered state

“stop laughing at me,” he stretches the last syllable as he lightly shoves you with his shoulder

you’re trying even harder to not laugh now, but for his sake, you hold it in

“that’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever said”

he crosses his arms, “i’m always cute”

you’re like. THE NERVE?????? 😒😒😒

“how ‘bout we go slow? i mean, we just became un-enemies, we’re gonna need to be friends first, right?” you poke his shoulder

“you make a good point”

“i’m literally athena’s child, but okay”

“shut up!”

✨ time skip ✨

both u and hyuck stay at camp over the holidays which means more bonding time!!! yay!!!!!

a year has passed and u and hyuck r basically bffs, attached at the hip, and everybody except mark is surprised as fuck

rmb the days when hyuck thought u were “cute”?

welp 🤭 he’s at that point where everything u do makes his heart flutter

yeah… he likes u Like A Lot

u have no clue abt his feelings for u and he has no clue abt ur feelings for him either

exactly a year after the iconic capture the flag game, ur both seated at the deck by the lakeside, side by side, again

“y/n…there’s something you need to know”

“if you’re gonna tell me about the mixtape you’re dropping with mark, i literally don’t want to hear it”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME”

“YOU GOT THE ENTIRE CAMP’S HOPES UP FOR NO REASON”

both of you burst into fits of laughter

after calming down, he shoves your shoulder lightly with his shoulder, like he always does (only to u tho)

“no, seriously, i need to tell you something”

“what’s up?”

“i,” he pauses, clears his throat, “like you. a lot–i have for a while now.”

you swear your heart stops beating and your brain explodes

HE? LIKES? U?????????

he continues, “i don’t know if you like me back, but i’ve been wanting to tell you this for so long–guess i didn’t have the courage until recently,” he lets out an airy laugh

you’re looking at him in the eyes now; a subtle shimmer of the afternoon sun sparkling in his eyes

“hyuck, i like you too. how could i possibly not?” you chuckle at his shocked expression

he goes :O

he’s genuinely speechless when you lean forward and press your lips ever so softly onto his

you literally feel him freeze, which worries you for a second, but your worry is washed away when he slowly kisses you back

you melt right then and there

he takes your hand in his, interlocking fingers, as you pull away, a faint pink blush painting both your cheeks

“wow”

“really, y/n? that’s all you have to say? what happened to being wisdom’s child, huh?”

“donghyuck, i SWEAR to ALL THE GODS–!”

your sentence is cut off when he presses his lips onto yours again, you smile into the kiss which causes him to smile with you

he kisses you again and again, and then again, until you’re both a giggling mess

“let’s stay like this forever, yeah? what do you say?” he says, bringing his lips to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back and looking at you

you look at your intertwined hands, and then back up at him, “i’d like that”

#lee donghyuck #lee haechan #donghyuck fluff #haechan fluff #donghyuck x reader #haechan x reader #donghyuck imagines #haechan imagines #donghyuck headcanons #haechan headcanons #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct bullet imagines #haechan bullet imagines #donghyuck bullet imagines #mine

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

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Know No Better

Streamer Gang & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, HUMOR, Crack, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A game of Among Us with this gang can never go without a halt for some spit-fire accusations and bickering, but throw their mutual friend Y/N in the mix and the chaos flares up twice as intensely.

Requested by my dear friend @thelittleplantlover Hi darling! Thank you so much for being such a loyal reader and never shying away from giving me your full honest feedback. You are an amazing person, a lovely friend and a mutual I’m glad I gained on my Tumblr journey. Love you with all my heart, Vy 💕

“Yo, sorry I’m....late“ Charlie’s eyebrow raises as soon as he enters the Discord call, almost half an hour after the scheduled time due to difficulties with his wi-fi connection. However, neither his presence nor his apology are acknowledged, seeing as how he wasn’t even heard over all the shouting going on in the call. “Um, what’s going on here?“ He asks no one in particular, aware that he probably won’t get an answer.

Surprisingly, though, someone does answer him - Sykkuno. “Hey Charlie, welcome. You missed a whole round and a whole debacle between...” The yelling voices give a clear idea of who this debacle is happening between: Rae, Corpse and Y/N. “Yeah, you can probably tell between who.”

“Yo, is that Y/N? Dude, I haven’t heard from you in so long where’ve you been?“ Charlie exclaims, eyebrows raising in delighted surprise, “What are you arguing about? Imma argue with you.“

“You don’t even know what we’re arguing about!“ Rae snaps, scaring the ever-loving daylight out of the newcomer that all but shrinks a bit in his seat, “These are matters the three of us have to deal with!“

You see, Charlie’s not one to press his luck - definitely not when the sweetheart Rae lashes out like that, reminding him that the impossible can be possible if you’re a strong enough believer - but right now, seeing as how he isn’t playing yet, he’s thirsty for some amusement even if it comes with the price of being verbally beat and battered by the currently bickering trio.

“God bless the day you three actually manage to deal with something by yourselves.“ He snickers, half-hoping Rae wouldn’t hear him. Actually, it’s more one third hoping she wouldn’t the other two suggesting otherwise. Adding gasoline to the fire - it’s basically in his resume at this point.

The reply he receives is not even oriented around his statement and it doesn’t come from Rae - whether that be a blessing or a curse - but rather from Y/N. “Charlie, help! Corpse and I are being wrongfully accused over here!“

“There’s nothing wrong about my accusations! I heard you bribing Corpse into vouching for you, you impostor!“ Rae spits out the word as though this argument is a real deal and not just them throwing a collective tantrum as they usually tend to do.

“He asked me for immunity in exchange for keeping his mouth shut! I never offered it to him!“ Y/N argues back, “Not my fault he’s a corrupt crewmate!“

“You were about to accept the offer though! Who does that?!“ Rae’s not giving up her ground either.

“Anyone! All of you know you would’ve accepted the offer had you been the one to be proposed it!“ Y/N whines, reminding themself and everyone else that they are not a very argumentative or confrontational. The only time they can be caught butting heads with people is as a joke, among this very group of people and over something as small as a bribery in Among Us. “And why is no one going off at Corpse for this? Why am I the villain here? Um, hello?! I’m an impostor, I’m supposed to be evil. One of your own betrayed you, and I’M your biggest problem?!”

“I’d like it if you didn’t get me involved...“ Corpse inquires shyly, as though fearing he too is in for an outburst from Rae if he dares oppose hers and Y/N’s statements.

Unfortunately for him, he’s attacked by their joined forces with a: “YOU STARTED THIS!” Shouted at him in unison. Just like Charlie, he too shrinks in his seat.

“Hey Toast.“ Charlie nudges one of his friends, one he hasn’t heard from for the entirety of his short time in the Discord call, “You there?“

“Sup man?“ Toast answers, unmuting his mic for the first time after approximately ten minutes of silence on his end due to this heated debate going on.

“Ten bucks says this goes on for another ten minutes.“ Charlie says nonchalantly, already planning the cheap dinner he’s gonna order with those ten bucks.

“Nah man, fifteen for fifteen minutes. These two have no chill.“ Toast says, taking a sip of his soda.

“You’re both wrong.“ Sykkuno interferes, “I’m putting in twenty for twenty and I’m starting a timer.“

“WHAT?!“

The three men sit there paralyzed now that the two sides of the battlefield have temporarily united once again to end them. Lord knows when Y/N and Rae unite, nothing good is in store for those who they’re up against.

“N-nothing...I was just announcing that...“ Charlie starts off, strategically reaching for the plug for his router, “...my wi-fi’s gonna disconnect in three, two...“

“DON’T YOU DARE!“

And WHOOP he’s gone. And so are Toast, Sykkuno and Corpse.

“I really can’t believe them sometimes.“ Rae grumbles under her breath finding the miserable number of remaining players once again gathered in the cafeteria after no one got voted out despite everyone knowing it’s Y/N.

“And here I thought Charlie would back me up.“ Y/N sighs disappointedly, shooting a brief look at their chat, “Hell if I ever trust him again.“

“Look at the bright side though!“ their friend, moments ago opponent, hurries to comfort them as though their argument never happened. Technically, it really didn’t. “He’s at least not gonna get those ten bucks he sounded so confident in getting.“

Knowing Charlie, losing a bet will most likely leave him feeling torn, but hey, much to his comfort, he was the closest in guessing the duration of the arguing. You win some and you lose some, this time he’s done neither. But he will get an earful from Y/N at the first given chance they get, which he’s grown used to over the years, being the one knowing them the longest. What he’s still trying to get used to is how much they’ve clicked with his friend group. Never did he imagine his socially awkward and shy friend would steal all his friends and literally wrap them around their little finger. Truth be told, amazement aside, he’s quite proud of them for it.

Yes, of course he’s gonna try bringing this up when they open fire on him as an attempt to calm them down. Yes, he knows it probably won’t work. But also: yes, he knows what will. Cause that’s what best friends do - they know. However, they should also know better than to bet on their friends.

But come on, it’s Charlie and Y/N we’re talking about over here - neither of them know any better. Hell, no one in this gang knows better. That’s what makes them so uniquely and wonderfully chaotic.

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cxmetery-gates · 4 years ago

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OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER ONE: FAKING IT

SUMMARY: Lynn Moore dreads the beginning of her greatest fear: the first day of senior year. WORD COUNT: 2.3k NOTE: Get ready for typical teenager angst. Let’s all bully Lynn. WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

JUST LIKE EVERY YEAR AROUND the middle of August, my mom tells me the same advice; have a good first day. Of course, most mothers, fathers, or whoever tell their child this, but it's as pointless as a circle. Whoever has a fantastic first day of school? There are new teachers to impress, you're stuck with the same bunch of losers you sit with at lunch, and there are more jerks and morons to pick on you, despite the status quo you fall under. High school is frankly really awful all the way around and there's no way someone can deny or even try to argue that. These are the four years of utter hell and we're all dying to get out. I've stepped through those heavy doors, resembling the gates of hell, on a first day three times now. My anger and hatred have only been fueled rather than dying down. I'm sure nothing will ever change.

"Don't forget--" Mom tries to tell me from the porch in sweats and a maroon t-shirt. Her unnatural dirty blonde hair piled on the top of her head with an old red clip. There are tears welling in her eyes, seeing her only child almost grown up. I have one last year of school and mere months until I'm an adult. For me, it may pass by far too slow, but I bet it's a whole different story for her. In all honesty, it's ridiculous that the woman is so upset and not to mention annoying. I have done this routine twelve times now, for Christ sake, she should get a grip on herself by now. I don't mean to belittle my mother but one of her greatest achievements is being able to replicate every single stereotype women have, including having no control over her emotions. An outsider looking in may say I'm a bit to harsh. All I can say to that is no one has loved with her for almost eighteen years like I have.

"I got it!" I yell against the wind as it smacks my face while I walk across the grass. "Christ on a bike," I curse tossing my messy light brown hair from my field of vision.

The bus would take another five minutes to get the corner, but I'd like to not look stupid on my first day by running to catch up with the metal rectangle of devilry Peter Parker style. Well, maybe it would turn into an interesting story at the least. Spiderman is my favorite superhero of all time after all. Despite this, I only allow an angry face to part my path. It's totally fake but faking it is the only way to survive.

Down at the intersection, there are already kids waiting. I think it's safe to assume that all of the puberty-sicken teenagers are freshmen or sophomores since most junior and seniors are still asleep at this early hour, knowing the good majority are able to drive. I take a good look at all of them. The fact that they find throwing bits of gravel at squirrels or birds makes me want to go over and smack them upside the head. That thought crosses my mind a lot. The world is so full of morons; it's hard to pick out which ones are actually tolerable. They're almost as bad as kids in letterman jackets with expensive sports cars. Those fuckers are the worst. All they care about is their ego and how much money they can wave around coming right from mommy and daddy's wallet.

Take the kid in the striped shirt tucked into his hand-me-down jeans. He looks like a nice kid; after all, he's got nothing to brag about. His parents are probably office workers or maybe nothing too difficult. Nothing too important. That's all we are, right? I mean, once we're dead and gone. No one is gonna care what car you drove or what brand your plain white shirt is. People who think they're hotshots or something special are the real morons.

Besides, who thinks it's cool to spend thirty bucks on a t-shirt?

An old car passes, a teenage girl in my grade sits in the driver's seat. I sort of duck out of the way. Not James Bond-like, but I move my already shitty hair in front of my face as if it's going to help hide my identity. The chick probably didn't even see me. I watch the car drive on, kinda imagining what sort of car I would drive once I get one. I suppose I would have to learn first. I personally am not a fan of getting behind the wheel. Hell, I can't even ride a bike without falling over. I'd rather move to a large city and order cabs to get me places. They seem more convenient and, if you get in a wreck, it's not your fault and it's not your money coming out of pocket. No car equals more money. Then again, no car also is equivalent to no freedom and taxis and Uber's can get expensive. It seems like each idea is flawed these days.

Upon scanning the area again— this time ignoring the idiots— I notice only one person who seems excited out of the group. Her dark brown hair and dark skin contrast to the majority of our town, including those waiting nearby. Her curled hair bounces with each stride she takes, happier than the step prior.

Some say it's strange that the girl and I are such good friends. You don't see God and Satan going out and having coffee every weekend or anything.

"What's got you in a good mood?" I question as I readjust my dark blue shirt underneath the flannel. Flannels are my favorite personal quirk. I own at least fifty, most being cool or dark colors. I don't have an obsession; just an interest that I care way too much about. Flannels are to Lynn Moore as controversy is to famous influencers. Looking back up, my eyebrow is still raised. I'm shocked to see her here, assuming her parents would have given her a lift. After a second, it dawned on me that this, riding the bus to school, was her punishment for getting into an accident she won't take responsibility for.

Posting memes and vines references are fun and all, but doing it while going 60 down a highway isn't the smartest. Forgive me for not following the strict millennial handbook but I don't actually want to die nor do I want my friends to.

My best friend, Ellie Graves, gives a small glare. "Why does it always seem like you're on your period?" I shrug my shoulders, and played with the wire choker I always wore. As my fingers slip underneath the necklace, it is evident how to lose it has gotten since I bought it a few months ago. I make a mental note to take a quick trip to the shopping side of the internet sometime soon.

I click my tongue before answering. "Probably because I'm closer to hell than you are," I say, referring to my obvious lack of height. I'm only five feet and just barely three inches off the ground while Ellie is at least five feet and seven inches. Personally I think we would make a cute couple given our attitudes and the extremities of our heights, except for the fact that dearest Ellie is not interested in people other than men. What a party pooper. For me, anyway. "But lets do our best to not reinforce stereotypes," I say referring to her comment.

She nods her head. "Yes, mother." I snort at her sass, leaning my body weight onto my right leg. "But hey! We have one year left! That's something to be excited about, am I right?"

Yes, I would say she is right. Freshmen, sophomore, and the dragged out junior year have come and passed, full of useless information and embarrassing memories with it. It's mostly embarrassing if I have to be honest. School isn't my thing, however falling up and down the main set of stairs apparently is. Who knew?

"Yeah, I suppose so. At least we're considered adults now," I reply trying to find some positive about the situation.

Ellie begins to lightly laugh, "True. That's kinda a scary thought, though." Her body shudders, either because a breeze just blew passed or out of what she just said.

The age of freedom is so close, I can nearly touch it. Despite my longing to finally buy a lottery ticket and spray paint, the fear of adulthood gnaws at the back of my mind. With eighteen comes responsibility, something I lack to a high degree. I muse the idea of getting a degree of irresponsibility. However, I don't think such diploma could help me get into a creative writing career.

I make a thinking face and bring my shoulders to my ears preparing for an exaggerated response. "Well, you aren't wrong," I reply in a forced high pitch noise, catching the attention of the guys. Now I notice they are all matching in basketball shorts and a jacket. Men's fashion, ladies and gents. Ellie chuckles at my utter dorkiness while I continue to make some weird face I'm sure she will get a picture of sometime within the next few seconds.

It's crazy how time is able to fly. Just last week, so it seems, the outgoing, beaming chick I have as a best friend and I were in third grade, the year I moved to a new house, a different school, and a very different town. Although my eight-year-old-self hated it at the time, I'm glad I left the northern state of Maine, all the way across to the midwest. That is if you consider southern Missouri part of the midwest. If I hadn't, who would have the privilege of being my first smack in the face? Or first sleepover (with an actual girl)? Who knows, and I honestly wouldn't like to. Ellie's my best friend; I would be dead if she didn't have my back. And I'm honestly positive she would say the same about her tiny best pal.

Little time passes after the picture was indeed taken and posted on Elle's Snapchat before an ugly shade of yellowish-orange appears entering the neighborhood. Ellie is practically fidgeting, fighting the urge to run up the bus even if it is some distance away. My eyes roll trying to not say anything to kill her spirit but I do let out an accidental groan as its loud hum draws nearer. The bus came to a screeching halt and I already want to turn on my heel and head home. When I step on, I notice there is a new driver this year. After Ellie got her license and could legally drive me around, I never bothered with the bus unless I needed space or she was busy, which was hardly ever. Ellie and I mostly spend our time together with our group of friends. Despite this, I still easily took notice of a different person in the seat. Instead of a balding old man with a face like alligator skin, a woman sat in the brown leather seat and looks roughly in her forties. She, like all of us except for Ellie, looks tired but fakes a smile anyways. The same rules apply; middle school and junior high in the front and high school in the back. It seems as if sitting in the back always made you cool of some sort. Every time a kid got away with it in middle school, he or she was automatically the bad kid, the cool kid, or the king of the bus. God, how stupid is that theory? These thoughts remind me how annoying and stupid we all were at ten and eleven years old. I'm sure if I had a duplicate of myself at that age, I'd shoot either one of us to cease me from the utter pain.

Instead of going all the way to the back, I turn to sit in the seat half way down the aisle while plunging in an earbud, leaving one open to listen to Ellie. I instantly scroll through an select a playlist that mixes rock, punk, and even some emo. Given today being my last first day, I figured early morning jams would be appropriate to get me pumped up even though I tend to listen to this genre quite often as of lately. I enjoy the heavy guitar and double bass pedal and lyrics I can either relate to or wonder who hurt the singer so bad. Needless to say, I'm definitely more of a rock person however there's still a lot of other types of music on my device, including orchestra and folk or indie. I don't like to limit what I listen to; whatever makes me feel good ends up on my phone. Simple as that.

"So, Lynn," Ellie says sliding in right next to me. I look in her direction, which was to my right, waiting for her to respond. She looks at me, but nothing came out of her mouth. Slowly, I arch a brow. Still, there was nothing. "I had nothing to say, I just wanted your attention." Ellie gave a stupid grin while I glare kindly at her if there is such a thing.

My head shakes and I reach out to pat her cheek, "You, my darling, are an absolute dumbass."

I feel her grin grow against my hand since I haven't moved it yet. "Not as big as you, though." I can't argue; she has a point.

As the bus lunches forwards, I look out the window and watch the world go by. Something settles in my gut about then, the feeling both familiar and foreign. I can't tell what it is, but as I watch the clouds roll in over the sun and birds flying through the sky, I only hope my last year of high school will be memorable.

#dark!tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fanfiction #teacher!tom hiddleston #loki #obsessive teachings #high school #stalking #obsessed love #obsessive #dark!fic

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embklitzke · 5 years ago

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July 2020 Camp NaNoWriMo - The Magic Crystal Justice Squad (Chapter 1)

So this project that I'm doing for July 2020's Camp NaNoWriMo kind of snuck up on me. I'd originally intended to start a re-draft of UNSETIC Files: Pawns for this go-around, but plans changed when lightning kind of struck my brain.

There's a meme floating around about magical girls who were supposed to be retired but have to pick it back up again when they're around 30--and have real lives, real jobs, responsibilities, etc. that would definitely be impacted by their side gigs saving the world. When I first saw it, I laughed about it and wondered if it maybe wouldn't be a fun project to try out--someday.

Someday happens to be, quite unexpectedly, right now.

The Magic Crystal Justice Squad is something completely off-the-wall and very different for me, but definitely brings back fond memories of much younger years when I rushed home every damn day from school to watch Sailor Moon and the hours spent over the years watching Power Rangers and similar fare. It also lets me stretch my writing muscles in some new and interesting ways, since it feels a lot more tongue-in-cheek than many of my other projects. It's something fresh and new and has been fun so far.

We'll see how long that lasts.

Until then, enjoy joining me on this little bit of a ride.

One

Shots rang out and I pressed my back against the brick wall, sucking in a pair of ragged breaths. Steady. Steady.

Maybe if I told myself that I could still do this, I’d actually be able to.

God, everything hurt so much more at twenty-nine than it had at seventeen.

There’s something they don’t tell you when you sign up for this whole magical girl gig. Of course, that assumes you’ve got the choice when the whole thing comes up—from the looks of things, most don’t, at least not when you read about them or watch them on TV. I’ll tell you what: Sailor Moon it’s not, that’s for sure. It’s not Magic Knight Rayearth or any of the others, either. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows and personal growth.

And unlike in Power Rangers or any of that craziness, there’s no handing over your powers to someone else. There’s no retirement plan.

There sure as hell isn’t a happily ever after.

I’ve spent twelve years trying to convince myself otherwise and the only thing I’ve learned is that fate is a cruel bitch and the business of saving the world sure as hell isn’t all it’s cracked up to be on TV.

I risked a glance around the corner. Not immediately seeing my pursuit, I allowed myself a second to breathe, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to listen past the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. They couldn’t be far. Their pursuit had been dogged across rooftops and down through the cavernous alleyways. I’d be paying for my rappelling trick for days.

Austin would’ve told me that it was an impressive move, but probably an unnecessary stress on my body, a waste of economy. As usual, he’d have probably been right about it, too.

But Austin wasn’t here.

Austin was why I was here.

Sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer. Someone must have called the cops, as if they’d be of any help in this situation. For all I knew, they were working for the enemy.

It would not have been the first time something like that had ever happened.

Just breathe, damn you. It took every ounce of wherewithal not to snarl at myself. Panicking wouldn’t do me any good, not now—not that it ever had. All it’d ever done had gotten me was into more trouble or yelled at by my former teammates.

Former.

If there was nothing else that slammed home how alone I was in this, it was that single word.

With Austin gone, too, I was well and truly on my own for the first time in twelve years.

I opened my eyes and stared at the wall ahead of me, then reached up to tap my tiara where it rested against my temple. A crystal visor materialized a second later, numbers and figures scrolling in front of my right eye, almost too quickly for me to understand what they were telling me.

That had always been a problem, but it was one that I didn’t have the patience to fix and probably wouldn’t until the next time it almost got me killed.

Three of them closing in. I can dodge them or I can fight.

My hands curled into fists. As stupid as it was, I wanted their blood. I wanted to put them out of my misery.

It would be three less foot soldiers for the enemy to throw at me in the future.

Hell, they might have been the ones who took my brother, which meant that I owed them more than a little payback.

I should have listened sooner. If I’d listened sooner, none of this would have happened. None of this would have started again. We could have stopped it.

Dammit, we could have stopped it before it started all over again.

Too late now.

I watched the scroll for a few more seconds. My breathing calmed and I counted my heartbeats, listening as the sirens grew closer. The sirens—and the three men who thought that I couldn’t hear them coming.

They brought this on themselves.

Hands tightening into fists, I took one last, slow breath.

“Fuck with the Crystal Princess and see what you get,” I breathed, then pivoted out of my hiding place and into the open. Leveling my wand—twelve inches of iridescent, crystallized silver—at them, I growled words that only felt even more ridiculous every time I said them. “Quicksilver Crystal Blade Spread!”

In the split second between the men realizing what I’d said and the blast hitting, the look on their faces was nothing short of priceless—they thought I was the most ridiculous thing walking.

They weren’t far from wrong.

Even ridiculous, however, I was still deadlier than they were.

The magic started as a brief flare of gray-white light, almost too faint to see. It grew exponentially in a matter of seconds, gaining form and substance as crystalline daggers that flew in an arc in front of me. Dozens of them found their mark, blasting the center most of my pursuers clear off his feet, sending him flying backwards a dozen yards. His companions had a split second to look at each other, their mocking and amusement melting into something close to fear.

One of them had the temerity to shoot at me.

He missed, though not by much. It helped that I was already moving.

If I’d learned anything over the years, it was to keep moving before they got your measure and your number came up once and for all.

The other thing I’d learned was to come at the enemy with all you’ve got because you never know which encounter’s going to be the last.

Catching the one on my right in the chest with my foot, I pushed off him to tackle the one on the left, the one that had managed to get a shot off. As his companion went careening into the wall, I bore the shooter to the ground, using momentum to make up for my lack of girth. The gun clattered from his hand, went spinning away, out of reach of both of them.

They were already bleeding from the dagger spread.

Monsters, after all, bleed just like everyone else.

Whipping my wand toward his jaw like a baton as I bore him to the ground, the shooter’s head bounced off the concrete as we landed, me on top of him. His eyes rolled up into his head for a second, then he snarled. I could only see the whites of his eyes as he lunged upward at me, fingers hooked into claws.

Oh no, you did not just pull that shit with me. Throwing up one arm to catch his hands, I drove the heel of my free hand into his nose.

The sound he made was the stuff of nightmares—half a scream, half a growl. It soured my stomach and sent bile creeping into my throat, touching a primal fear built into all of us.

Unlike most, I’ve figured out over the years how to shunt that fear aside and keep on fighting.

I risked a look away from him to check on my other assailants. The one that had taken the brunt of the daggers wasn’t moving—he was probably out, though I wasn’t sure. The other, though—

Yeah. I should have been a little more vigilant about him.

A booted foot sent me sprawling, knocking me from my perch on the shooter’s chest. The other man stalked after me, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and a few places where the daggers had caught him, too.

“You should have stayed out of it,” he growled, his voice guttural, somehow human and inhuman all at once. A shiver shot down my spine.

Just in case I needed more confirmation that something was rotten in the state of Denmark...

Well, I had it now, not that I’d needed it.

“Fat chance,” I said, brandishing my wand. He laughed at me.

“What are you going to do with that, Princess? It’s a sparkly stick with magic. You don’t have too many charges left, now do you? Bet you’re spent after that last-ditch effort to shake us off.”

“Oh,” I said quietly. “You’d be surprised.”

They were working from outdated information. That was good to know.

While being older meant that I’d pay a heavier price for any sort of physical feats of magical-girl prowess, having become a magical woman had apparently translated to a deeper fount of magic.

“Quicksilver Mist Arise.”

His eyes widened as the air around him thickened. I crawled back, stumbled to my feet, watching as a silver mist coalesced around him and his fallen companion. Their faces changed as the fog swirled around them, growing heavier, thicker.

There it was. The demonic-looking visages I’d expected, the ones I’d sensed but not seen.

They were getting better and better at hiding in plain sight.

Still, they hadn’t quite gotten good enough to fool me—not most of the time, anyway.

The mist choked off even their screams as it stole their breath.

Carefully, I stepped around the mist and headed toward their fallen companion, crouching to check for a pulse. I found none. His face had taken on the same demonic cast in death that illusion shrouded in life. My lips thinned as I started to search him, hoping to find something some clue to what they’d been up to—other than hunting me.

Behind me, the mist faded away, leaving the bodies of his companions lying in the alleyway. Muttering a curse as I came up empty in my initial search, I headed for the other two and repeated my search.

Nothing.

Maybe they were getting smarter after all.

I straightened and shook my head, staring at them for a few seconds, throat tightening at the shameful waste of it all. It didn’t have to be this way.

But they’d chosen this war, and the war, in turn, had chosen me.

If I wanted to save my brother, I didn’t have any choice. I had to keep fighting. No one else would.

There’s no handing your power to someone else when you end up where I’m at. No new reincarnation crops up to pick up where you left off, to take your wand and skirt that you thought you’d hung up and fight the good fight.

There’s only you and the demons that still stalk your days and your nights—both the ones that come from outside and the ones that come from your soul.

We thought the war was over.

How wrong we were.

#camp nano 2020 #Camp NaNoWriMo 2020 #Magical girl fiction #fiction #The Magic Crystal Justice Squad #writing #amwriting #urban fantasy #trope subversion #MCJS

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werejusttouchingeachother · 5 years ago

Text

SEOUL 2018 [August 10th, 4:27PM]

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 T/W: angst - mentions of abuse, depression, suicide, cursing Words: 4171

It was almost two months later when you finally met Baekhyun again after the night he left New York. He’d been at the dorms and you’d felt more terrified than you had been when you first launched your boutique.

Manager had ushered you inside quickly, immediately making you feel awkward as your eyes met Junmyeon and Sehun who were sitting on the couch and watching something on the television.

“Y/N,” Junmyeon called your name in surprise as he quickly stood up, wide eyes exchanging glances with Manager behind you. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I don’t think anyone did, Hyung,” Sehun mutters, giving you a small smile. “Hi, Noona. It’s been a long time. I missed you.”

You smile fondly at that, tense shoulders loosening at his contagious warmth. “I missed you too, Sehun.”

“I’m mad at you, though.” He crossed his arms. “You never called. Or responded to my texts.”

You flinched, expecting this accusation from the youngest member who’d always had the most fun teasing you and who you knew would take your silent treatment the hardest—not when you’d spent days and nights sending each other funny memes and pictures of dogs with bad haircuts almost on a daily basis only to suddenly ghost him.

“Yeah, I just…” you trail off and shake your head, knowing excuses were in vain. “I’m sorry. I should have replied.”

Sehun blinks at your sincere apology, not having expected it and his face clouds over with worry at your seriousness.

“Sehun,” Jun says, nudging him. “You can catch up with her later.” He gives you a meaningful look as he asks, “Y/N, aren’t you here to—?”

“Yeah, I’ll go check,” Manager says, turning to your left in the direction of the rooms. You grab his arm to stop him.

“Does he…?” You trail off and Manager hesitates before nodding.

“I told him that you landed here today morning.” He pauses before saying, “I think he’s expecting you.”

You waited in the hallway then as all the members slowly filed out of their rooms, giving you polite formal smiles (Jongin, Yixing and Jongdae), wary looks (Minseok and Kyungsoo) or blatantly ignored your presence (Chanyeol).

You didn’t say anything. If any of them knew what had exactly happened, you were sure that it had to be Chanyeol.

All of them joined Junmyeon and Sehun in the hall, the farthest room from Baekhyun’s to give you as much privacy as they could within a dormitory. Bowing your head in thanks, you walk past Manager and head for the right door at the end of the hallway.

Taking a deep breath, you raise your hand and knock gently on the door. You can hear the silence of the usually noisy dorm and it doesn’t help the way your heart is pounding against your rib-cage, your stomach twisting with anxiety.

The door opens then and your breath catches as your eyes fall on Baekhyun.

His hair is dishevelled and his clothes are drabby, hanging off him in a way that you knew all too-well that he had been wearing them for a while. His cheeks are hollow and your eyes run over his clothes, growing frustrated when you realise they’re too large to figure out whether he’d lost weight.

“You haven’t been eating,” Baekhyun says, his tone flat and your eyes fly back up to his face in surprise. You feel your skin rise with goosebumps at hearing his voice after so long and your eyes sting with unshed tears that you have to forcibly blink back.

“I…” You clear your throat before raising an eyebrow at him. “Neither have you. Your face has grown thinner.”

“What is this, a competition?” He rolls his eyes, stepping away to let you in.

“If it is, nobody is winning!” You hear Sehun shout from the hall, making you roll your eyes.

“Sehun, shut up!” Baekhyun yells as he closes the door behind him. You bite your lip as you look around the familiar room that was almost a home to you at one point—a point that seemed entirely too long ago now.

“Did you wear lipstick? Or did you chew it all off?” Baekhyun asks, pointing out your usual nervous habit and your gaze shifts back to him as he sits in his gaming chair, opposite the bed that looked unusually tidy.

He hasn’t been sleeping.

“Did you sleep at all this past week?” You shoot back, crossing your arms as you sit down on the bed and cock your head at the neatly made sheets. “Or leave that seat? How long have you been gaming in those clothes?”

“Why do you care?” Baekhyun snaps and you sigh, leaning back as you square your shoulders and remind yourself not to follow his childish antics.

“I didn’t come here to fight, Baek,” you start, trying to gather your thoughts. “I—”

“Y/N.” His voice is sharp enough that you stop, eyebrows rising as he inhales deeply before saying, “If you’re here to break up, just leave. I haven’t processed a lot since New York but I’m not numb enough that I can sit here and listen to you end everything. Being here in Korea must be killing you anyway so just leave and I’ll consider it the end. Let’s not make this any harder than it—”

“Shut the fuck up, Baekhyun,” you snap, eyes narrowed in disbelief as you gape at him. “Is that what you want to do? New York to be our last conversation? Just leave a two-years-long relationship like this?” You shake your head, holding up your hand to stop whatever he was going to say as you interrupted, “I’ll leave soon, don’t worry. As soon as I’m done telling you what I have to tell you.”

He falls silent, eyes watching you carefully and you take a breath before starting. “I told you something that night two months ago. Before you said that I shouldn’t be feeling that way. Something about my childhood. Do you remember?”

Baekhyun nods slowly. “You said that you’ve never been enough for your parents from when you were young. And I made you feel like that again, yeah, that’s burned into my memory, don’t worry.”

You shake your head, shooting him a look. “That first part, yes. The second part, no. This is what I flew out here to tell you, face-to-face. What I should have told you that night.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you take a second to muster the courage to say what you’re going to say. Baekhyun immediately notices your hesitation, his eyes clouding with worry at the obvious storm raging inside your mind right now.

It almost makes you smile—the fact that he could still read you like an open book. Despite all the pain, all the misunderstanding, all the conflicting emotions that were stirred up amongst both of you, he still worried about you, your thoughts, your nervous habits and your weight.

“My parents came from well-reputed families,” you started, leaning back against the wall. “It was an arranged marriage, a union that was more of a business deal than that of love. They weren’t chaebols or anything but they were well-off and had a long uninterrupted line of sons on my father’s side that always took over the business and carried it forward.”

Baekhyun’s face falls at this, already knowing where this was headed as you continued, “They wanted a boy. When I was born, it was more of a shock than anything. They tried a lot for a second child but my mother had some health issues and there were complications. So they were stuck with me and I was… never enough. I did everything they wanted me to do, always obeying their insane rules and never had any fun the way other kids did. I used to draw a lot from when I was a kid and they would rip my drawings apart, throw my colours away. I’d get into trouble if I didn’t do the homework or scored anything less than hundred on tests. I used to cry at school and my teacher told me that they do it because they love me, because they care. That most parents are strict so the kids will grow to be really smart.”

“So I studied hard. Began to buy separate notebooks to draw in and hide them where they wouldn’t find them. I lived by the rules they made, all through middle school and high school—it was always hell, I was always wishing to get away. I never even dared to like someone as a teenager because I feared what would happen at home if they found out. I didn’t have any friends because they discouraged it, said it was a distraction. They’d decided on the day of my birth that since I couldn’t take over the business, I’d follow the highest position for a woman—medicine. Their words, not mine. So then, I joined medical school and when I had to draw more bodies and organs than the clothes that went on it, I snapped. I had a phase where I stopped attending classes, where I failed all the exams and almost got suspended. It was a highly prestigious school so they called in my parents and they paid heftily to keep me at school, promising that I’d make up for it.”

You pause then, lowering your head and taking a breath since the next thing was particularly difficult to voice out loud.

“That was the second time my father hit me,” you say in a hoarse voice, clearing your throat before continuing, “The first time was in elementary when they found my doodles for the first time on my books. The teacher had sent a note to them, suggesting to join an art class because I drew more than I wrote notes and they beat me till I was black and blue. They told me that art was for idiots, that things like drawing, writing, acting and singing would never get me anywhere in life. After that was when I started my preparation for medical school. After I failed that too, I thought they would understand then or at least try. But they beat me again. And I thought I’d kill myself so, I ran away from home.”

You glance at him, smiling slightly. “That time we were at Tokyo, you were so surprised when I didn’t want to take pictures together under the cherry blossom trees. It’s not because I was cold that night—it’s because cherry blossoms always reminds me of that night I ran out in Korea. They were all I could see when I looked up and they were so pretty that it felt like they were mocking me. That was the first time I wished I could look up at the sky and see the Eiffel Tower, wish that I could be at Paris where I could draw freely and just live for myself.”

“And that’s when I realised that I was going to kill myself when I hadn’t ever lived. Not once, not even for a day, had I lived for myself. It was always for my parents and they never even appreciated my efforts or tried to understand me.”

You look up then, smiling although you couldn’t see him because your eyes were tearing up. “The only time that I lived was when I designed. I had nothing to lose. There was no one to please so I thought I’d fully meet the criteria of such a worthless disappointing child. I started dreaming about Paris and my boutique—I started dreaming of skies where I could look up and see the Eiffel.”

Baekhyun’s expression is unreadable but you continue, “You know the rest from here. I lied about going for classes and instead worked many part-time jobs. I saved up just enough money for one of the cheapest flights to Paris but it wasn’t enough, of course not. I got kicked out of school and I didn’t wait to get kicked out of home too—I used all the money I’d saved to move out instead and started working at Korea. Three years later, about the time all my friends were graduating from college, I finally had enough to go to Paris. For seven months, I struggled and starved and almost died because of how poor I was before my designs finally caught the eye of someone who saw my potential. I became his apprentice.”

You take a deep breath and grabbed the pillow from his bed, hugging it in your lap because your hands were shaking.

“I have a lot of issues with my parents, Baekhyun,” you state aloud, looking at him. “My childhood was traumatic for me and there’s a lot that I’ve been suppressing from when I was a kid. I’m insecure when people show me affection because I’m not used to receiving it, I have anxieties about whether they will leave so I think I should leave first because I always tend to think I don’t deserve whatever love I get. Seoyeon is a clear example of that as my only friend—the only one I’ve trusted enough to get close to me.”

“I moved out of the apartment after you left.” His eyebrows rise at this and you explain, “It felt lonelier when you were gone. It was too big and memories kept haunting me, I was always going crazy with my own thoughts so I decided to move into a smaller place.”

You paused then, inhaling softly as you felt your shoulders lighten like you’d just lifted a burden, one that had been weighing down on you for almost all your life. Feeling your heart race slightly because of the next thing you were going to say, you mentally prepared yourself for all the negative possibilities before continuing.

“I’m going for therapy,” you declare, watching his eyes widen in surprise at this. “Seoyeon told me that if I never deal with my past, it’s always going to affect any relationship that I have. I started almost as soon as you left and all these things I told you, Baekhyun, they’re-they’re just the surface of it. You know that I hate coming back to Korea even though you didn’t know exactly why. Same with the cherry blossom trees. There’s a lot more that I can’t tell you, a lot that I can only tell my therapist because it’s difficult for me to admit it openly, even to myself. But at the same time, these are the things I should have talked to you about, like you told me that night at New York. I let my insecurities get to my head and projected it onto you which was unfair.”

You place the pillow back and stand up then, looking down at him.

“I understand and accept everything you said that night,” you state, Baekhyun gazing up at you unblinkingly. "We don’t have to go public. We never do. I don’t care about that and I don’t think I ever did. The party that night, the way everyone was so welcoming… it made me question if I was even worth standing around such people. If I was worthy of your love and care.”

“And that is not your fault, Baekhyun,” you clearly enunciate, knowing he was going to interrupt with the opposite statement. “Those are just my fears stemming from my shitty childhood. Apparently my first instinct when shown love is to fight and then flee. But I know now that it’s not a matter of worth—you’ve only loved and cared for me, unconditionally, even when I’ve been closed off and so difficult.”

“I…” You trail off, heavy emotion weighing down on your chest suddenly and making you choke on your words as you hoarsely say, “I’ve only known darkness, Baekhyun, so when you shone down on me with all your light, I got blinded. I was an idiot and I fucked up something that was beautiful and the best thing that ever happened to me. But I can see clearer now for the first time in my life and I know better. And I know that I love you. So much that I am even willing to be mysterious Mrs. Byun X forever. No one has to know about us or me and I couldn’t care less.”

You take a breath then, meeting his gaze. “I’m opening the door again, Baek. And I’m giving you the same option I did last time except now, I can promise you that I do not care about being hidden and I also promise to try and fight my demons from wrecking what we have. If we have it again.”

Baekhyun blinks at you, pouty lips parted open as he gapes at you like a fish and you nod, stepping to the door slowly.

“You don’t have to answer right now,” you reassure him, forcing yourself to smile even though you were beyond terrified. “I know it’s a lot to take at once. Manager has the address of my hotel and I’m staying for a week. Or you can just text me, if you don’t want to see me. He has my number too.”

Baekhyun doesn’t say a word and you feel your heart crack slightly in your chest as you nod, biting down on your lip and turn to the door.

Swallowing heavily, you mutter, “Goodbye, Bae—”

You’re spun around by a death grip on your arm then, eyes widening as you look up at Baekhyun standing right in front of you.

“No,” he said, shaking his head as he dragged you back to the bed. He placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you down forcibly, ordering, “Sit.”

“How can you leave like that?” Baekhyun asked, disbelief colouring his tone. “I didn’t even speak yet.”

You blink at his glare, stammering, “I mean-I just-I didn’t want you to feel pressured—”

“Y/N, it’s been two fucking months,” he snorts, shooting you a look. He retrieves his hands from your shoulders and lowers himself to the floor at your feet.

“You know that you can just sit beside me?” You ask, glaring down at him as a sudden memory flashes vividly in your mind. “Or back on that seat across from me?”

He shrugs as he sits cross-legged, looking up at you. The room’s light was right behind you and it shone down right on his face that made it look like he had stars in his eyes and you wondered if it was bright enough to hurt him.

“I want to look at you,” he says quietly.

“You’re sitting the same way you did that night,” you remind him softly, biting down on your lip.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion before he realises, eyes softening as he takes your hand from your lap slowly.

“I’m not leaving this time,” Baekhyun assured you gently, giving you a small smile as he played with your fingers. He raises his other hand to your face and tugged your lower lip loose from your teeth, shaking his head at you and giving you a warning look, the way he always used to whenever you kept gnawing at your lips.

He sits back and gives you a cheeky smile then. “Technically, I can’t. You came here to the dorms so I don’t really have anywhere to go from here—”

“I missed you,” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. His smile freezes at your words and you blink back the tears gathering furiously as you corrected in a softer tone, “I miss you.”

“Me too,” he murmurs, intertwining your fingers together. He grips your hand tightly and seems to struggle as he forces the next words out, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you. Therapy and dealing with everything from your past can’t have been easy. I should have been there, I shouldn’t have left—”

“Baek, no,” you grab his hand holding yours with your other hand, shaking your head vehemently at him. “It’s good that you did. I needed to get my shit together—about me, about us. I needed to do it, it was time.”

He looks into your eyes, voice meek as he asks, “Are you okay?”

You start to nod and he tightens his grip on your hand again as he repeats, “No, Y/N. Really… are you okay?”

You pause, swallowing slightly as you look down at both your hands. “It’s… a lot. There’s a lot that I’m remembering and reliving that I don’t want to. But that’s how I can make peace with it, how I can stop—” You take a shaky breath, choking as you finish, “—stop hurting myself. And stop myself from hurting you.”

“Oh, god, Y/N.” Baekhyun lets go of your hands then, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You still at the sudden unexpected embrace and he pulls you down from the bed onto his lap, hugging you tightly to him.

Your entire body seems frozen as you find yourself on the floor with him, his arms clutching you tightly to him.

“Baek,” you whisper, practically trembling in his arms when you feel his warmth singe into your skin. He is as warm as you remember him and when his scent, your instant comforter, flooded your nose after missing it for what felt like forever—you’re almost ready to cry.

He pulls away to look at you, shaking his head as he whispers, “Please don’t cry, baby, it kills me.”

His hands cup your face and you close your eyes, leaning into his touch as you sigh softly. You open your eyes and almost melt when you see the way he’s staring at you.

It reminded you of Paris—the way he looked at you every night when he said ‘goodbye’ at the door of your hotel room, a gaze that lingered and that you were reluctant to break away from.

Despite saying it already, you repeat, “I miss—”

Baekhyun closes the gap between your mouths, his plush lips pressing against yours tenderly as he held your face in his hands. You closed your eyes, responding instantly while your hands fist into the front of his shirt, clutching him tightly as if you were afraid he’d slip away.

He kisses you back just as fervently, holding you gently as if he didn’t want to break you. The kiss tastes as sweet as the first, your heart thudding against your chest and butterflies erupting in your stomach as if it was your first time.

You pull away to breathe with your eyes still closed and he presses his forehead against yours, feeling your breaths intermingle. Your eyelids flutter open and his thumb wipes a stray tear that had streaked down your cheek.

“I missed you too,” he breathes, pressing another kiss to your mouth. He lingers before pulling away, lowering his hands from your face as his eyes meet yours with determination before muttering, “Fuck it.”

You blink. “What?”

“Fuck it. I love you. We’ll make it through this, through everything—my job, your past, everything. We walked into this thinking our biggest problem would be the distance and we’ve overcome that. It’s… it’s fine. I can’t lose you again, Y/N. These two months have been hell, I’ve just been going crazy in here.” Baekhyun takes in a shaky breath, grabbing your hands from his chest and staring at your joined fingers. “Hyungnim told me that you needed some space and I thought it was over so I broke down but then he told me to wait, that you just needed some time. I thought you’d made your decision and the reason you weren’t reaching out was because you didn’t want to… be with me anymore.”

You shake your head and lean forward, kissing him. “That’s not… you know I can’t leave you, Baekhyun.”

“Then don’t.”

You smile, nodding slightly. “I won’t.” You hesitate, biting your lower lip as you ask timidly, “Does this mean that you’re walking in through the open door again?”

He smiles then, cheeks puffing and eyes shining as he replies, “Well, you know what they say. Love is an open door.”

“Literally betrayed her and left her to die but okay, Hans,” you tease and he rolls his eyes.

“Fine.” He grins, releasing your hands and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you into his chest. “Then… oh, right. Paris. Love is your open arms.”

You roll your eyes teasingly, snorting, “Always so cheesy.”

“Shut up, you love it.” Baekhyun drops a kiss on the top of your head and you close your eyes, smiling at how much you’d missed the gesture—genuinely smiling with your heart feeling full for the first time in months. Your veins that had gone numb after so much time apart finally felt alive, filling with the ethereal golden rays as he basked you in his contagious warmth.

Your sunshine.

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paintedrecs · 5 years ago

Note

I was going to name a different one, but: the scene between Owen and Demona at the beginning of "All Is Mended" chapter three. :-D

That’s 800 words, so you’re cheating. Also what other one were you gonna name hmmmm.

For this meme.

Excerpt from this fic. (Gargoyles, Owen Burnett/David Xanatos, 11k, Owen POV, canon compliant.) Discussion under the cut.

“I don’t understand you,” Demona said.

Owen watched her approach; he’d heard her glide down to the castle but hadn’t bothered to move from his seat on the edge of a wide stone wall, overlooking the bright lights of the city stretching out far below. She was an ally for the present, working with Xanatos on his latest attempt at immortality. That didn’t mean Owen trusted her.

“You’re not human,” Demona said, folding her wings as she perched beside him—graceful, and dangerous, but not someone he wasted effort fearing. “Yet you act like one. Why.”

“I made a promise,” Owen said. He could’ve left it there, but he swept a sidelong look at her, then added, dryly, “Perhaps you need the word defined.”

“Funny,” she said, in a tone so casually uncaring that he could tell he’d poked at a particularly tender spot, one she’d spent centuries ignoring.

“So I’ve been told,” he said.

Demona’s lips pulled back slightly as she spoke through her fangs. “That’s what I mean, Puck. Why do you persist in masquerading in this skin, when we both know who you are?”

“I’m Owen,” he replied, adjusting the glasses that had slipped a little down his nose. The frames didn’t fit right around his ears anymore; he should have the screws tightened, when he had the time.

“You’re pining,” she spat, as though she’d never heard a fouler word.

That, he hadn’t expected. He didn’t bother denying it; Demona was many things, but never a fool. “I don’t see what relevance that has to you,” he said. “You wish to gain immortality; I’m doing my part. Owen is perfectly capable of playing his role.”

“And Puck has powers Owen could never dream of.” Demona tilted her head, watching him thoughtfully. It was unpleasant, but he let her eyes scrape over him. “When you were last in your true form, as Puck—” she began.

Owen let out a sudden, scoffing breath. “When you held me in chains and made me do your bidding.”

She shrugged, lightly. “You said something to me then. You told me that if I wished, you could make Goliath love me again. Was that true?”

“I bend the truth,” he said. “When the mood strikes me. I do not lie.”

“So it was possible.”

“Yes,” he said. He narrowed his eyes at her, unsure where she was heading. “Titania’s mirror is beyond your reach now. Even if you had it in your grasp, you know full well I wouldn’t carry out the wish the way you wanted.”

“Because you’re a trickster,” she said, with annoyance that bordered on grudging respect. It was clear that she hadn’t often run into someone who could best her. “But my point, Puck, is that you have this power. You could make David Xanatos love you.”

Owen’s lip curled in disgust; he turned away from her.

“Don’t pretend you have a human’s misguided sense of honor,” Demona chided, human sounding like the darkest expletive she could harness. “You’ve done worse, over the centuries, as have I.”

He didn’t bother dignifying her with a response.

“Answer me, Puck,” she demanded, then, dripping with disdain, when he remained silent: “Owen.”

“You think ill of humans,” Owen said, each word precise, biting. “You blame them for all your errors, for the foul deeds only you were responsible for carrying out. You think yourself above them, and you assume that I, as someone who has lived far longer than you, who has seen worlds you cannot fathom, will treat humans with as little esteem.”

Demona rose to her feet, towering over him, her eyes flashing red in fury.

Owen cast her a look that carried the full weight of his contempt. “Yes, I have the power to do as you say, and far beyond that. What you don’t see—what I suspect you’ve never seen—is that forcing someone to bend to your will is meaningless. All it does is show how weak, how petty, you are.”

Demona hissed at him, but did not approach. She unfurled her wings, and as she dropped from the turret, she cast back her parting shot. “You should know, then, that Fox is pregnant.”

“I know,” he said, to the now-empty sky. He watched as she followed the currents across the city, well past the clock tower where her former love resided, no longer thinking of her.

Xanatos hadn’t told him yet, but Owen was familiar with the signs. He’d seen, too, the way Xanatos had grown more careful with her, how his hands would instinctively stray, now, to her waist, her still-flat belly, not yet swollen with life. How he looked at her, with a light in his eyes that would’ve burned one less worthy to cinders.

“I know,” he repeated quietly and, adjusting his glasses and briskly dusting off his suit, returned to his work.

Commentary! Oof we’ll see if this gets long. Character limits on twitter make it easier to be concise. And please please let the read more actually work this time, tumblr.

So this is actually one of my favorite parts of that fic.

In general, I reach an Avoidance Point with my own writing; I edit obsessively, post, edit the posted fic a little more, then panic and stop rereading it. If you don’t check your bank account, it’ll never be empty. If you don’t reread your fics after you’ve posted them, you’ll never find out that (a) they’re terrible (b) there are a dozen more areas that could use more editing.

Nevertheless, I’m still, I think, really proud of this one. This particular section isn’t something that’s terribly new for me, not like other parts of the fic that stretched me beyond my usual comfort levels, but it is an interaction between two characters I’d never written before.

I’m really pleased with Demona’s voice here. The way she spits out Owen’s name, the hatred she shows for anything human, her very dubious (and self-centered) morality, the hints of lingering heartbreak over Goliath, her deep confusion over Puck choosing to take on human form. It’s the worst curse she can imagine - and since this scene takes place after “The Mirror,” you’ve seen how horrified she is at seeing herself as a human, a “gift” Puck bestowed upon her so she won’t turn to stone during the day.

Demona pissed Puck off, so he gave her what she asked for, but at a price he knew she would absolutely despise.

But Puck loves being a human. He loves being Owen. It’s something Demona can’t ever understand, and here she’s trying to, as much as Demona ever tries to truly understand anything that doesn’t directly benefit her.

Why would Puck spend his days in a form where he doesn’t have ready access to his exceptional powers? Why would he allow himself to continue serving a human - when he broke away from her so quickly, so easily? Demona might occasionally work with Xanatos, but she doesn’t like or trust him, and she’d readily destroy him alongside the rest of humanity, after she’s gotten what she wants/needs from him.

Why would Puck fall in love with a human - something that’s become obvious even to Demona, from working alongside the two of them. Worse: why the hell won’t he do anything about it, when he clearly has the power to make Xanatos do whatever he wants?

These were all questions I wanted to pull out of the story, and Demona - as someone who actually knows who Owen truly is - was a natural choice to press hard for some answers.

I layered a bunch of stuff into this interaction, but here are three main concepts:

1. Love isn’t selfish.

I don’t think Puck would’ve actually cast a love spell on Goliath if Demona had asked - not without throwing in a few twists and tricks. But the fact remains that he could have, and that it would’ve been comparatively easy. Demona didn’t ask for and didn’t really want that, but she did love Goliath for a long time, as much as she’s capable of loving anyone, so that offer would stick with her.

And Demona...well, Demona already used one free-will-spell against Goliath, so it’s not like it’s an idea she’s entirely adverse to.

Owen, on the other hand, would never consider making Xanatos do something against his will. (This is, in fact, something he and Xanatos share - Xanatos’s immense caution against pushing Owen into something he might not want contributes to that stupidly long gap before they resolve their relationship.)

If Xanatos doesn’t love Owen, that’s his choice. Owen is heartbroken about it, and he’s out here on the rooftop indulging in some quiet reflection on how it feels for a human heart to shatter, but he’ll shake it off and go back inside before long. Demona’s an unwelcome intrusion, and he’s understandably sharp with her.

2. Puck is a trickster, not a villain.

I have a lot of thoughts about Xanatos, too. While it’s not entirely relevant to get too into depth with here, I do think that a huge part of Puck’s attachment and loyalty to Xanatos comes from the fact that Xanatos is fascinating - not dull and full of preachy speeches like Renard - without being actually evil.

Demona is interesting, sure - she’s lived a long and exciting life - but Puck would never, ever willingly serve her. She’s selfish. She’s cruel. She’s vindictive. Puck doesn’t want to destroy humanity; he likes humans. He likes Xanatos best, yes, but he enjoys being in this world with the rest of them.

In the City of Stone episode, Owen stands toe-to-toe with Elisa and says, “Mr. Xanatos is trying to fix things. What are you doing to help?”

And that, I think, is the crux of the relationship between Owen and Xanatos. Owen sees Xanatos’s delightful trickster spirit, and he also sees the good in him. They’d both upend a city but would be careful to put it back to rights if things went too far. Demona would gladly stand back and watch it burn to the ground.

Demona can only see reflections of her own cruelty now. She hates humanity because they’re the easiest target to blame for her own flaws. Owen sees humans’ complexities and loves them for it.

And because he isn’t truly human - because he’s a fae who’s wandered the earth as long as Demona has, and has lived longer, with a much wider perspective on the world and all of reality - he has no reason to listen to her petty whining. And she might actually, for the barest moment, listen to what he says to her.

Of course, she has to get in one last dig before flying away in her usual dramatic huff, but he already knows that, too. Demona can’t hurt him; Owen made his own choices, knowing the consequences. And, unlike Demona, he’s willing to live with those consequences without trying to reflect the blame elsewhere.

3. You can choose your own identity.

Demona has very rigid ideas about...well, about pretty much everything. Humans are bad. Gargoyles are good. (As long as they side with her.) Her human form is something that’s useful to her now, but she’ll never stop loathing it or wishing she could shake it off.

She thinks everyone sees the world the way she does, and she assumes that Puck is (a) not entirely happy being trapped as a human, chained to Xanatos by a contract, like she attempted with the mirror (b) “pretending” to be someone else when he’s wearing his Owen shape.

But what I wanted to show throughout this fic is that Puck is Owen. And that even a fae subject to Oberon’s Rule can choose his own identity, his own name, his own place in a life that he wants to lead.

At one point here, Owen refuses to respond to Demona until she calls him by his proper name. She spits it out, hating it, but he’s already told her once that’s who he is. He gave himself that name; it’s the one he wishes to use.

Owen was born into a specific life. This life - with Xanatos, as Owen Burnett, glasses and suits and clunky flip phones and all - is the one he’s chosen for himself. And he’ll do everything in his power to keep it.

#owen burnett #demona #gargoyles #puck #xanatowen #fox/xanatos #gargoyles spoilers #meme #about my fics #fic talk #wow did that even answer anything you were looking for #don't give me unlimited space to talk about these characters or my headcanons or my own stories #mad-madam-m

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