#I refuse to tag the new name. (I forgot the full name) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hydrasra · 2 years ago

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Reunions and answers

SYNOPSIS: news spread faster than you can say "freedom." however, can you care about any of that when you're reunited with someone you've never met in person but feel strangely at ease with?

DISCLAIMER: this wasn't meant to be NOT FROM THIS WORLD's part 2 but here it is. probably swearing here and there who knows? I forgot and I'm too lazy to check. as usual, not beta nor proofread. ooc moments here and there probably. this may be the last part. don't hope for a part 3... possibly. again, reader has no gender.

TAGGING: @code-roevember

iii. "I AM NO GOD."

"my, my... have you heard?" miko spoke as soon as she entered the plane of euthymia.

ei, who was meditating with her eyes closed, opened them and gave her full attention to her friend with a confused frown.

no greetings?

"there's someone imitating our creator it seems," the kitsune spoke so nonchalantly that the archon of eternity would have almost dismissed what she said... if it didn't involve their creator.

"who would dare do such a thing?!" crackling could be heard in within the place, depicting how ei felt and the head shrine maiden couldn't help but smirk.

"if I knew who, I would have dealt with them long ago, o' archon of eternity," miko said, putting a hand in her forehead and leaning back for dramatic effects.

"this is a serious matter, miko!" ei exclaimed, frowning at her friend.

the light-hearted expression on the head shrine maiden's face turned into a more solemn one, showing the archon that she knew the severity of it all, almost shocking the god if she didn't know her friend at all.

"I know, ei," a slight pause before she kept on talking, "I simply was trying to lighten the atmosphere at the very least."

"are you serious?!" the chief retainer of the kamisato estate whisper yelled, shock evident on his face as a member of the shuumatsuban relayed the news to him, "has this information gone public?" the informant shook their head.

thoma stayed quiet for a few seconds, though it felt like an eternity to the informant who was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"all right," the reliable retainer said with a nod, "simply do not let that information leak to the public until my lord gives you the order to. I need to speak with him in order to know what to do."

it has been two (2) week already since you've arrived in sumeru, though really, for you it simply felt like hours.

nahida had yet to make all of sumeru know of your arrival but you refused, for the time being. stating that you wanted to rest.

however, no matter how hard you tried to sleep these past nights, you weren't tired and it was as if your body was telling you that, no, you've not well spent your energy, despite having ran a lot a while back.

nahida was a little concerned when she took notice of how you never seemed to sleep when the rest of the whole of teyvat were peacefully asleep, dreaming or not.

was the house of surasthana not evoking the feeling of safety enough for you to shut down at night and get some well deserved rest? perhaps she could understand, this was once her jail before you came and helped her out through the traveler's actions.

"your gra-"

you sent her a playful glare and she could only sheepishly smile before correcting herself, "[name], are you uncomfortable?"

now you frowned, "why?"

she took a few steps towards you before sitting down next to you, "you haven't slept in days now."

you could only chuckle at her concern and before you could help it, your hand reached out to lightly ruffle her hair, earning a giggle from her as she tried to pull away, "my body refuses to."

nahida looked at you in concern this time as you told her the reason, "refuse to?"

you simply nodded.

"do you know why?"

a shrug was all she earned.

'I wish I knew.'

footsteps could be heard and, despite everything that nahida had tried to make you feel at ease, your body went into survival mode, ready to dash out at the mere sense of danger.

seeing you tense and looking towards the entrance, nahida pursed her lips, liyue had you so tense in such a small amount of time, huh?

"greater lord, I have brought those you have requested to you," and at wanderer's familiar voice, your body immediately relaxed but tensed once more upon seeing the acting grand sage, the leader of the forest watcher and the general mahamatra.

those three (3), however, could only stare in disbelief.

"hello!" nilou explained upon seeing lumine walk through the streets of sumeru city, clearly on her way to the academia, or maybe the house of surasthana?

"nilou, hi!" paimon exclaimed back, giggling at the dancer as lumine approached her friend.

"hey there, nilou."

"what brought you here today?" the red hair asked, smiling wide once lumine was near enough and gently taking a hold of the traveler's hand.

"I am here to talk to your archon about something," lumine trailed off, waiting for nilou's reaction.

the girl was clueless however, just sending her a curious look and waiting for the blonde to keep talking.

lumine only chuckled before gently prying off nilou's hand from hers as paimon was simply quiet and watching, waiting for any reactions like the traveler.

"I'm so sorry, nilou, but it's rather urgent that I speak to nahida as soon as possible," she offered the dancer an apologetic smile once she saw the red hair visibly deflate, "but, I'll be sure to come to the grand bazaar and eat with you, all right?"

both paimon and nilou perked up: one at the mention of spending time together, the other at the mention of food.

"okay!"

"as you all know, I have received a letter from the liyue qixin. the content of the letter was saying that an 'impostor' was within our land, hiding deep within our forests," nahida paused, looking at the three people in front of her, the other two were behind her.

those three in front of her kept throwing curious glances at their creator and nahida couldn't hide the growing smile on her lips, "however, they are wrong. this is the divine creator-"

"I apologise for interrupting, lesser lord, but how are you so sure that the one behind you is indeed their grace?" alhaitham spoke up, trying to appear as skeptical as possible, though it was no challenge to him.

nahida simply smiled as she put her hands on her small hips, "I have already confirmed that they were indeed the one that guides us with irminsul. wanderer was there with me at that time."

tighnari put a hand on his chin as cyno took a step forward and knelt down, "I believe that you have no reason to side with an impostor," he said, looking down at the ground before looking up, not at nahida, but directly at you. and he felt it, a tug at his heart.

those red eyes were intimidating in person, you'll admit that to no one but yourself.

"welcome home, your grace."

cyno's voice pulled alhaitham from his own thoughts and he looked at you, feeling a small tug at his own heart. he followed cyno suit and that made your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, "I hope we will be able to provide you all the help you need against those that do not believe it is in fact you, our creator."

'now what in the fu-'

as if that wasn't enough, once tighnari looked at you, he knelt down too, feeling a tug at his own heart as well, "if you ever need anything, I will gladly provide."

you looked at wanderer who was smirking at those three knelt before you with an eyebrow raised.

"please get up. there's no need to kneel or whatever," you spoke up, making nahida and wanderer look at you as well, making you a little uncomfortable at being the center of attention, "and, please for the love of god, drop the 'your grace' title. just call me [name]."

as if waiting for the perfect opportunity to, the doors opened once more and inside walked a blonde traveler and her floating companion, "nahida! we have something urg- oh hey, alhaitham, cyno, tighnari, wanderer and your grace!" paimon exclaimed, happily floating nearer towards the group, "your grace?!" paimon came to a halt, a few feet further in front of lumine.

the three kneeling men now stood up, on high alert but relaxing upon seeing the traveler.

"wait, 'your grace'? paimon what are you-" lumine went quiet and seemed to be stuck in place next to paimon as she saw you, standing in front of her.

you seriously don't know why but seeing lumine made you smile warmly at her, a sight truly magnificent that if cyno could comment about it out loud, he would. though he feared of being seen as inappropriate for that.

"lumine.." you called for her by her name, and not by the name you had given her. as if her being able to tell that it was indeed you, the one that guided her through teyvat's challenges to get to her brother wasn't enough to help her ground the idea that you were here, flesh and blood, next to wanderer was not enough.

the others watched from the sidelines, though nahida was paying far greater attention. she was awaiting for the traveler's reaction to better grasp at the idea that it was indeed you their creator and that irminsul was either right or wrong depending on lumine.

a sudden invisible burden being put on poor lumine and she was not even made aware of it.

and suddenly, she ran. ran towards you before engulfing you in a hug while tackling you on the ground.

she will apologise for it after, just, please... allow her to feel like she has regained control of her life with you by her side to guide her, in the flesh this time.

laughter could be heard from you both.

small smiles were on everyone's faces.

and suddenly, the atmosphere felt lighter.

and outside, teyvat seemed brighter.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

question: what did you guys name your wanderer?

i named mine kiyoshi.

#sagau #sagau impostor au #impostor au #gold blood au #genshin imoact sagau #genshin sagau #wanderer x reader #cyno x reader #alhaitham x reader #lumine x reader

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stratossphere · 1 year ago

Note

i am BEGGING for ville x tattoo artist reader . porn w plot or sm like he fucks reader after a few sessions and reader thinks he hates her but he’s frustrated or whatever IDKKKKKK

ink | v.v

the problem client has a thing for his artist.

warnings: smut, fem!reader, fingering, protected sex, reader has a hand over her mouth, just people being straight up horny

word count: 7.4k

a/n: this took me such a long time but i’m proud of it :) also once again i appreciate all of your genius ideas

tags: @asskickedbygirl @lieutenant-cinnamon-roll @kissofdawn666 @brandons-wife @valos-venus-doom @ghoulishguns @4377666 @althaiascure

— —

Fuck. He was coming again.

You were always happy to take on new clients. You really were. But ever since Ville Valo's usual artist had moved and holed himself away what seemed to be for good, you'd been stuck with his bitchiest client.

Ville was...interesting. Not horrible, per se, like some of your clients definitely were, but he was certainly one of the nitpickers. It had been a while since you'd last seen him, and the last time he'd been in was to get some chick's name tattooed on his chest (or at least you'd assumed, considering he'd refused to tell you what 'Mäy' was), but even then he'd complained and spent the whole time watching you work meticulously.

And yet, despite the nitpicking, here he was back for more.

You would've been lying if you said you might've been a little nervous not because he was picky, but because he was really fucking hot. Obviously, bitchy attitude or not, you couldn't deny that he was attractive, and the ones with an attitude were definitely your type. But you'd literally been tattooing a name on him, so you'd held back on any of those thoughts.

But holding back on those thoughts became a lot harder when you saw him walk into the shop from where you were cleaning up your studio from your last tattoo. His hair had grown considerably, he looked a lot healthier than the last time you'd seen him, and he still had that unimpressed frown on his face as he talked to your receptionist. You leaned back in your stool so that he could see you from where he was standing, raising an eyebrow as he glanced over and noticed you were there.

"Wow. I almost forgot you existed." You said truthfully, smiling as he came around to step into your studio. Considering his original tattoo artist had worked with you, you had seen him a lot back in the day when he had been filling up quickly on tattoos after he'd started with his wrist. Albeit, you'd never actually talked to him before his first tattoo with you, but you'd known him and he'd known you regardless.

"Yes. Hello to you too." He said dryly, waving a piece of paper in his hand as he shut the door of your studio behind him after stepping fully into the room. "I'm getting a coverup."

"Which one?" You were warily eyeing both the half-sleeve of portraits he had on one arm and the full sleeve he had on the other, because covering up either of those sounded extremely unappealing considering how dark the ink work was on both. He chuckled lowly as you pushed back in your stool to let him sit down in the chair.

"The last one you gave me." He admitted, handing over the piece of paper in his hand when you offered your hand out for it. It was a picture of a woman, and you were satisfied at getting the chance to do another portrait. He seemed to have an addiction to them, considering that every time you saw him, he always came back with more.

"Shit. Was my handwriting bad?" You joked, consciously aware of how long this tattoo was going to take, and additionally how long that meant you'd be around him shirtless. You were really trying to harness maturity here, but you couldn't be held responsible for what occurred inside your own brain. Although, with eyes as intense as his, you weren't sure he couldn't see right inside with you.

"No, it was acceptable. Things just change, and I'm a new man these days." Ville said calmly as he watched you get started on his stencil, his fingers drumming in a concise rhythm on the arm of the chair as he spoke. You shot him a knowing look.

"So I was right. It was a girlfriend's name." You'd been trying to guess the last time he'd been in the shop, but he hadn't even given you a hint. He'd originally said that it was not his girlfriend's name, but now it was pretty obvious that there was no way he had been telling the truth. He paused for a second, sighing softly.

"Not exactly." Once again, very vague. You rolled your eyes because you knew he couldn't see, laughing softly to yourself.

"One time, I tattooed a guy's name as a tramp stamp on a client, and then the next day her boyfriend came in screaming in my face because I tattooed his brother's name on his girlfriend." You revealed conversationally, knowing that if you didn't say something, Ville would be perfectly fine with letting the room fall into dead silence for the entire predicted four hours he'd be in your chair. He had been the client infamous for bringing handfuls of CDs to every single one of his appointments and blasting them loud enough to fill every single studio on the shop before he'd been dumped on you, but you had a feeling he refused to do so with you because he thought you wouldn't like the same music. Which meant you were stuck with his hatred for conversation.

"That feels pointed." Ville muttered, tilting his head to shoot you a look just as you glanced over at him. You snorted, busying yourself fully with the stencil so that you could avoid that intense gaze.

"It might've been. I don't know. I like to get at least a little bit of interesting information out of my clients once in a while." You said coyly, hearing the sound of his fingers picking up pace where they were still drumming on the arm of his chair. He paused for another moment, and when you glanced up to see if he was ignoring you, you were once again met with his startlingly-green eyes. He sucked his teeth.

"You're not going to like the story. No women do." He said very presumptuously, looking away from you with disinterest and instead leaning back in the chair slightly to look up at the ceiling. Once again, because he wasn't looking at you, you rolled your eyes.

"I've tattooed ballsacks, assholes, and dicks. I'm sure your story won't get me too bad." You said dryly, finishing up the stencil before you slid away from your desk and over to his chair to present it to him. "Look okay?"

"Yeah. Looks great." As he said it, Ville looked like he was trying to decide whether or not to actually tell you the story he was dancing around, and you were really trying to remain professional and not laugh as you watched him do so.

"Alright. Take off your shirt, and you can tell me the horrific story while I put this on." You instructed, remembering that the 'not' name was tattooed on the right side of his chest. He stood up to shrug off his jacket then, and you noticed he was looking at you curiously.

"You've really tattooed a dick?" He didn't sound like he believed you. You nodded, focusing your mind fully on the conversation at hand so that it didn't wander too far on the sight of him starting to pull his shirt over his head. When his head was blocked by the shirt and he couldn't see you, however, you let your eyes linger on the symbol tattooed on his lower stomach momentarily.

"Yep. And it was a cross, too." You muttered, shaking your head as you remembered how that appointment had gone. Every time you started to feel down about how difficult Ville sometimes made his appointments with you, you remembered those times and immediately started to feel a lot better. That pulled a slight chuckle out of him (only slight, mind you) as he tossed his shirt and jacket onto the chair meant for people tagging along against the wall.

"Well, I suppose you won't be too offended, then." He surmised, sitting back down in the chair in front of you with his top half now bare. You were always amazed with how well-sculpted his torso was considering you'd seen him drink enough to kill a medium-sized child in all the times he'd been inside the shop. "It is a name, but not of a person. It's uh...named after my ex-girlfriend's uh...you know. Private area, so to speak."

Okay. That did take you aback a little bit. You certainly didn't let it show, however, and only raised your eyebrows as you gingerly began to lay out the stencil over his chest and over the last tattoo you had done for him.

"Huh. Never would've guessed that one." You shot him an amused look, but he only looked surprised that you'd taken it so well. You silently wondered what kind of conservative nuns he'd been telling that story to. "Why 'Mäy', then?"

"Now I'm just going to sound stupid." He mused, lifting his arm above his head so that you could get a better angle on applying the stencil. God, he smelled good...

"Once again, a cross on a dick. You can't get much stupider." You repeated with reassurance, peeling the stencil and then inspecting the placement with satisfaction. You then pointed to the mirror across from the chair. "You can go check and make sure you like where it is."

"You know the American show SpongeBob, yes?" He asked absentmindedly as he got up to look at himself in the mirror, narrowing his eyes as he looked over his reflection. You were praying that he liked the placement, because you really felt as if it was in the best place for the shape of his chest.

"Yeah. My nephew watches that show all the time." You said, completely unsure of where he was going with this story as you waited for the verdict on whether or not he liked the stencil placement. "Look okay?"

"Do you think it does? I want the darkest part over the name." That surprised you. He was asking you instead of forcing you to bend to his bottomless pit of adjustments and requests. You motioned for him to come back, then narrowed your eyes at the stencil to make sure that the part where you would be putting the darkest parts of ink was covering the name. It was.

"Yeah. That'll cover it up completely." You nodded, moving out of the way to let him get back into the chair for the last time before you actually began to put the needle to his skin. "SpongeBob?"

"Oh, yeah. It's uh...well, you know, it's a kid's show, but it's damn funny. And there's a snail on that show that meows." Ville explained, motioning his hands animatedly as you set up your gun and the ink you would be using while you reclined the chair back so that he was laying down at the best angle for you to tattoo him.

"I vaguely remember that, yeah." Now you had even less of an idea where he was going with this story. His explanation still didn’t feel like a viable reason to allow him to call someone’s intimate areas the name of a snail.

"Well, when he meows, it sounds just like 'Mäy' in Finnish. Which doesn't really mean anything, so I kind of just made it into a nickname." He must've been able to see the bewildered look on your face, because he really sounded like he was trying to prove a solid reason for getting such a strange thing tattooed on himself. "That, or Gary, which is the snail's name."

"You called her pussy Gary?" You couldn't help yourself from blurting that out bluntly out of genuine shock, and you immediately winced. "Sorry. That was a bad way of saying that."

"No, no. That's about the best reaction I've gotten, actually." He muttered, shaking his head as he clearly thought about it. "It was a dumb thing to do, and I told every single person that asked me, so it's my own fault."

"Well, I'm glad I was apart of your terrible decision. And I'm glad you got Mäy tattooed instead of Gary." You snickered, letting your hand rest on his chest with your tattoo gun now buzzing in your hand. "You ready?"

"Stick it in."

For once, Ville actually seemed to be in the mood to talk, but for most of the appointment, it was vague answers and a mostly-uninterested tone. In all honesty, you were kind of bored with the man everyone claimed to be one of the most interesting on the planet.

So, when the tattoo was done, you were a little relieved. Sure, you were a fan of the fact that Ville was your best tipper out of all of your clients, and he at least had some interesting stories to tell, but something about him just made you a little uneasy. And it didn't help that you'd just sat through five hours of him being shirtless under your hand.

"Okay. Look in the mirror and give me your collective score." You said as you turned your gun off, letting him get up and out of the chair and then trying not to stare too hard at the muscles of his back as he stretched out.

"That felt really fucking quick." Ville commented as he stepped over to inspect himself in the mirror, tone sounding pleased with the fact. You stared at him for different reasons then, because that had felt like the longest tattoo session of your life, but didn't say anything on the matter. At least he was having fun. "Looks great. Maya Deren wouldn't be too appalled."

"Why thank you. Sure you don't want anything else added?" You asked as you peeled your gloves off, feeling more than relieved that he didn't seem to have any qualms with your work. You had no idea how he'd found problems with a three letter words, but not a portrait of someone's entire face.

"No, that'll be it."

—

And that was the last you saw of him. You expected he'd turn up in a couple years' time when he eventually found something else (or maybe got another name or face tattooed and needed that covered up as well) to get done, but you certainly didn't expect to see him when you walked into work hungover and tired only three days later.

"Jesus Christ." You nearly jumped out of your skin when you walked into your studio to see him already sitting there. He was handsome, you couldn't deny, but he was certainly scary when you weren't expecting him. "Didn't I just see you?"

"I came in for touch-ups." He explained, stretching out in the chair as if he couldn't have possibly belonged anywhere else. You narrowed your eyes.

"You need touch-ups? After three days?" This fucker. Seriously. He must've hated you. Or he just lived to torture every tattoo artist in your shop in general. Either one worked. "I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I think you're my most difficult client."

"I'm not going to be back for a long time, and I figured I should make up for my last appointment." He scoffed, crossing his legs and looking over at you where you were still standing by the door of your own studio. You checked back in mentally, closing the door and setting your bag down on the floor before running your hands over your face.

"Alright, I guess. I appreciate the makeup." You mused as you walked over to where none of your stuff was set up, silently cursing him for arriving so early on the one day you'd come in late due to how shitty you'd felt when you had awoken that morning.

"What kind of hangover is it?" As you set up, his question surprised you, and you looked back to see him almost smiling. You didn't think you'd ever truly seen the sight in all of the appearances he had made in your shop over the years.

"What?" Was it really that easy to tell? Sure, you'd been forced to rush considering the fact that your still-kind-of-drunk brain had convinced you that the sound of your alarm was still apart of your dream, but you'd showered, at least.

As a matter of fact, he looked a bit cleaner than usual today, too.

"You're clearly hungover. What's it off of?" He repeated, and you could've sworn you saw him eyeing you over as he spoke. You deadpanned, because usually someone who looked hungover looked like shit, before sighing.

"Vodka shots." You admitted, pausing where you'd been in the middle of setting up to narrow your eyes at him. "Do I really look that bad?"

"Quite the opposite, actually." Those words took you by surprise, and you let your lips part slightly as he now visibly checked you out. What the fuck. You were really trying to ignore the way your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as he shrugged. "I won't make you tattoo on a vodka hangover. I don't actually need the touch-ups."

You just stared at him, trying to comprehend both of the things that he had just said to you and failing to do so for both. "So...why are you here then?"

"Who knows why anyone is anywhere. I suppose it might have something to do with the fact that you're one of the only people I know that's bearable to be around in this godforsaken country." He spoke so casually, as if every one of his words wasn't shocking you more and more as they came out of his mouth one by one. Once again, you stared at him for a second before responding.

"Huh. I really thought you didn't like me." Multiple sessions filled to the unbearable brim with dry responses, irritated adjustments, and an overall air of disinterest had convinced you on the fact, but here he was in your studio requesting touch-ups he didn't even need with money he didn't even have to spend.

"Everyone thinks that. I've been told I'm a bit of a raging cunt." He snorted, waving you off when you went to resume your setting up in an attempt to bring your brain back into function. "Don't bother. The tattoo is fucking perfect."

"Well, I feel bad now. You already paid a deposit on the session." You insisted, unable to bite back a grin at his compliment of your handiwork. You weren't sure you wanted him to leave quite yet, despite the fact that you'd been more than eager to get him out of the shop the last time you'd seen him. He just seemed...different today. More at ease.

"Oh well." He said simply, shifting so that he could slip his hand into his pocket before he came up with a pack of Marlboro Lights and a shitty-looking red lighter. "Will smoke detectors go off in here?"

"No, they're broken." You waved him on to give him the go ahead to smoke, coming back over to where your working stool was before sitting down so that you were near his chair. "You're really going to pay to be in here for no ink?"

"I don't mind. It'll give you time to get over your hangover before you stick a needle into the next poor bastard who comes in here." He said with finality, that half-grin now permanently on his face as he spoke. He then absentmindedly offered his cigarette out to you, and when you looked at him in surprise, he held it out further. "It helps. Even if you don't smoke."

"I think it's against the rules to share spit with my tattoo clients." You teased as you took a long drag off of his cigarette. You did in fact smoke (albeit not his brand), and the soft burn in your lungs made you feel a little less jittery. His look changed at that, and you immediately realized how that sounded, but he didn't actually seem to mind. In fact, by the way his eyes dropped to your lips for just a split second before he was looking back to you, he didn't mind at all.

"Yeah? So you're against sharing spit in all forms?" This whole interaction was leading into a place where you really should not have let it be going, as Ville was in fact your client and you were in fact at work, but you couldn't help yourself. You weren't dumb enough to ignore that you had one of the hottest men you had ever seen in your studio currently flirting his ass off with you.

And, on top of that, it was obvious that Ville had a goal in mind. You could tell by the way he was obviously freshly-showered and in a much lighter mood, and you could definitely tell by the way he was currently wasting time away without a tattoo needle in him despite paying the deposit for an entire session. You shrugged, grinning slyly.

"Mm. Maybe not. Depends on which client I'd be sharing spit with." You said, acting as if you couldn't have possibly caught on to what he was trying to say. He nodded, watching you more than closely as you leaned over to grab an empty ink cap to ash the cigarette still between your fingers into.

"You know, I know a great hangover cure that works better than anything else." Ville said casually before he was turning in his chair so that he was facing you to the point where you were almost knee-to-knee. He still smelled just as good as he had last time you'd seen him, and you wondered if your head was spinning more because of your hangover or the man in front of you. You passed his cigarette back.

"Yeah? What's that?" You had a pretty good idea, but you liked this little game that he was playing. He did have a very appealing voice, after all. He took a long drag off of the returned cigarette, holding your gaze intensely the entire time before he spoke again.

"Fucking." The way he drew out the word almost made you lose it. Almost. He never stopped staring at you, studying your features as he gave his certified suggestion, and you spluttered in turn as you swallowed that information.

"Really? In a tattoo studio?" You managed to mumble out, your eyes dropping to where his free hand moved to rest over your knee. Your body had never reacted so viscerally to such a small touch, but that's exactly what it was doing now, and you felt your heartbeat in your throat. Among other places.

"I've done worse." When you looked back up at him, he was already smirking at you, and he looked nothing but sure of himself. He reached out to crush his cigarette out in the ink cap that was sitting on your table next to his chair, but he never moved back where his face had come right up in front of yours, and then he was kissing you.

Smoke drew out of his nose in thin tendrils as he kissed you softly, one hand coming up to cup your cheek while the other hooked under your stool and pulled it closer to him. You knew that this was extremely unprofessional, and that your boss would've kicked your ass if she would've seen what you were currently doing on paid time, but all you did was deepen the kiss as your knees brushed heavily against his.

"Are you sure?" This still didn't feel completely real, and you found yourself pulling back from the kiss as you looked at him with slight concern in your eyes. You were trying to let his plaguing indifference get to you, but it wasn't exactly easy. He didn't respond, just held your gaze tensely with arousal burning deep in his irises before he was hooking his fingers in your front belt loops and pulling you further forwards.

As your lips connected once again, you were quickly crawling into his lap, hands cupping either side of his face while his arms wrapped strongly around your hips to keep you against him as the both of you kissed hungrily. This was definitely not at all what your studio was meant for, and you didn't even know if your chair could healthily take the weight of two full grown adults, but you were too intoxicated by the taste of his tongue to care.

"Does the door lock?" Ville asked against your lips breathlessly after a moment, one hand holding himself in the chair and the other pushing underneath your shirt as you rocked your hips just slightly in his lap. His voice stuttered at that point, and his hand dropped from under your shirt to hold you in place tightly by your hip. You shook your head.

"No. The walls are thin, too." Although you normally would've been put off by those factors (in fact, you never would've caught yourself dead having sex anywhere near where you worked on a normal day), you could barely get them off your chest quick enough before you were kissing Ville again, starting to roll your hips again despite his grip.

"Can you be quiet, or am I going to have to put a hand over your mouth?" After a second, Ville broke away to speak those bold words into the open air, stealing the breath right from your lungs as he did so. When you didn't respond, mostly because you didn't trust yourself to form coherent thoughts in that moment, he nipped at your lip. "Turn around."

"But—" You were already in his lap, and you hadn't even removed any items of clothing yet, so you had no idea what he was planning. You had already fallen too deep into a haze of arousal to really care about anything other than him fucking you, so you felt panic creeping up the back of your neck at the thought of having to pull away from him. He shushed you softly, interrupting your protest.

"It'll be okay, love. We have time." Ville cooed, his head tipping forward so that he could press soft, warm kisses to your neck as he coaxed you into complying with his request. However, lucky for him, you were quickly becoming entranced by a man who you had started off your day thinking you hated, and you were moving to turn in his arms with just the touch of his lips on your sensitive skin. If any of your coworkers (who knew Ville very well, and not in a good way, considering the reputation his loud music and excessive drinking had brought him with his last artist) could see you now, you never would've heard the end of it.

Ville's hands stayed on you to guide you along with your own movements until you were laying with your back flush against his chest and your legs between his, his chin tucked over your shoulder the entire time. You felt your heart rate picking up when his hands began to explore; his fingertips on one hand dipping under your shirt hem while the other hand moved to rub over your thigh.

"You are so beautiful." His voice was like a song in your ear as his hands crept higher and higher, and you could only try to gasp air into your lungs as his fingers moved to find the button of your pants. The sound of your zipper slowly pulling open after he'd undone your button was enough to make your head spin violently. "I have to admit something."

"Yeah?" You were able to breathe out as your hand ghosted over his where he was just beginning to push it past your currently-open zipper, your thighs beginning to press together as he got closer and closer to where you really needed him.

"Every time you tattoo me, all I can do is picture what you'll look like when I fuck you." His voice barely made it past your ear as he suddenly drew both hands away from you, making the impatience sear in your chest before it was quickly soothed when he began to push your pants down your hips on either side of you. "God, I've wanted you for so long."

Well shit. If you had known that, this would've happened a lot sooner than today after knowing each other for around a decade.

"Ville. Please." You couldn't take his filthy mouth paired with the lack of his touch, and your plead was bursting from your lips before you'd even fully kicked off your pants once he'd pushed them down far enough. You were now almost bare in his arms, and you felt like you were going insane.

"Shh." Just as he shushed your impatience, Ville's fingertips touched to your clit for the first time, and your back arched involuntarily as your breathing audibly picked up at the feeling. Even with the first slow circle that his fingertips rubbed on your clit you were moaning, and Ville's free hand clapped over your mouth just in time to hide the sound. "Does that feel good, darling?"

You couldn't respond, but you knew he could tell by the subtle way your back was arching towards his touch as his fingers began to circle faster on your clit. His fingers were skilled, and in that moment you understood exactly why someone had not only let him call their pussy the name of an animated snail, but had also condoned him getting the sound said animated snail makes tattooed on himself.

You moaned hard against his hand when he slowly dipped two fingers into you, the new sensation making your entire body shudder as he continued to shush you softly in your ear. You were slightly worried about the idea of someone coming into your studio to check on you, but he seemed as if he couldn't have had less of a care in the world. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was leaving his hand a little loose over your mouth on purpose just so that he would be able to hear your moans.

"Slow down. Let me have fun." He purred in your ear at your squirmy movements and badly-controlled voice, his legs trapping you between themselves slightly to prevent you from moving any further. You mentally blanched through the fog in your brain at the implication that he was going to enjoy you allowing him to take his time fucking his fingers into you more than you would in any way, unable to respond to his request but instead trying your best to settle your overreactive nerves.

However, every attempt at calming yourself was immediately washed away by the intense waves of pleasure coursing through your body as Ville pumped his fingers deep and slow inside of you. You were completely at the mercy of his skilled touch; and he knew it too. You could tell he was enjoying his own little game with every shift of his fingers on your lips that allowed for the sharp sound of your voice to escape into the painfully-quiet room for a split second before he was quickly rendering you silent once again.

Ville may have been able to keep up this game for what you feared was an admirably long time, but you were starting to feel as if you were going insane, and you couldn't wait anymore. Your shaky fingers found Ville's hand against your mouth before you were peeling his own digits away from your lips, a whimper escaping once you were free to speak.

"I need you. In me. Please." You pleaded, your words stumbling out of your mouth unevenly as he continued to curl his fingers into you throughout your entire sentence. Never in your life could you have ever guessed that you'd ever find yourself begging a client to fuck you right there in your own tattoo chair, but Ville Valo wasn't just any client.

And not any client could use their fingers the way Ville Valo currently was.

"Can you handle it?" God, he was cocky. Sure, it had you a lot more weak in the knees than you were willing to admit, but that was nobody's business but your own. And you were sure it wasn't like he was going to decline your request even if it was revealed that you couldn't handle getting fucked in such a quiet environment. You, however, nodded quickly.

"Yeah. Promise." You didn't know if your answer was discernible between babbling and hurried, but at this point you really didn't care anymore. You had an end goal just as much as Ville did, and you really wanted it. "Please baby. I want you now."

"Yeah? How bad do you want it?" As he spoke, Ville gently pulled his fingers from inside you just as his hand dropped completely away from your mouth yet continued to let you hold onto it where you'd been holding it away. You gasped in a shaky breath at the feeling, shifting your hips in the confines of his legs on either side of you.

"I was so close, Ville. I'm begging you." You whined pathetically, pressed back far enough into his chest to where you could feel his warm breath against your cheek. He didn't respond, just shushed you softly once again, before suddenly his fingertips were brushing against your lips and he was pressing his long fingers into your mouth.

You savored the sound of his deep hum of arousal behind you as you sucked the taste of yourself off of his digits, swirling your tongue suggestively as you felt him begin to shift in a way that was not at all inconspicuous underneath you. You almost had him where you wanted him, and you could tell that his patience wasn't going to last much longer than yours had.

“Be patient, love. I’ll give you anything you want.” All too quickly, and despite his words, Ville was drawing his fingers out of your mouth. For a split second you felt frustration taking over at his refusal to give you even a hint of what you so desperately wanted, but your emotions were quickly settled when you felt him fumbling behind you.

He was undoing his belt.

You turned back to watch him, lip drawn between your teeth to (poorly) hide your eager grin as you listened to the sound of the metal buckle clinking. Ville clearly noticed you watching, and he was quick to catch you in a kiss as his hands hurriedly peeled his zipper open before he was slipping his jeans down his hips just enough to free his cock.

“Do you have a condom?” Through the haze in your own head, you pulled yourself together enough to mentally slap yourself in the face, because of course you didn’t have a condom. However, you never got the chance, because within seconds Ville had fumbled his wallet out of his jeans and had produced the requested condom.

Even with the tension and aroused urgency in the room, you couldn’t help but take a moment to snicker. “I didn’t realize you had already planned this shit out.”

“Maybe I might’ve been desperately hoping.” Ville hummed in joint amusement, his lips dipping to the crook of your neck as you turned away with the sound of him ripping the condom open. You didn’t miss the way one of his hands rubbed fleetingly across your ass as you repositioned yourself so that you were straddling him while still facing away as he visibly ate you alive with his eyes. “I have a thing for the ones that don’t like me.”

You laughed softly at that as he rolled the condom on. You definitely liked him now if nothing else, and you were about to reassure him that he really wasn’t as insufferable as he sometimes came off as, before you were abruptly thrown off by the feeling of the head of his cock sliding against your clit. He kept his free hand on your hip to assure that you couldn’t gain the upper hand against his merciless teasing, sliding his tip through your pussy a few more times before he was slowly pushing into you.

“Oh my god.” You whimpered out unconsciously, crumbling as if you were boneless against his chest almost immediately as he began to slowly fuck his cock up into you. His breathing had gone ragged the second that he’d pushed into you, and you could feel his chest heaving against your back as your ass pressed flush down into his lap and on his cock.

“Yeah. Fuck, just like that.” Ville encouraged as he ate up your pliance, one of his arms wrapping tight around your hips to hold you still as he fucked you smoothly. His thrusts were full and slow, and you silently wondered how someone could be so precise with such a pleasing torture as you moaned dizzily.

Despite how delicious the filthy mix of skin-on-skin and the shaky sounds falling from your lips in an increasingly-steady stream were, subtlety was close to flying out the window, and Ville was soon placing his free hand back over your mouth as he whispered for you to shut that pretty mouth. There was no space between your bodies now, and you felt as if you were molding backwards into him as his lips dragged hot against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I know you wanted me. You touch more than anyone that’s ever tattooed me.” He cooed knowingly in your ear, his words only slightly separated by soft groans at the feeling of his cock mind-numbingly deep inside of you. He only continued as your face burned hot at the feeling of being found out for actions you had assumed were unnoticeable. “You needed me to fuck you bad, didn’t you, love?”

You couldn’t respond verbally, but you nodded as best you could as one hand covered his where he was still holding your hips tight against him. You felt as if you couldn’t put your scrambled brain back together enough to do anything else, and the pleasure was becoming too overwhelming for you to be able to just sit there and take it.

As fingers gripped tightly at skin and you moved desperately along with each other, the build of primal urgency between the two of you was climbing fast as you both chased your highs with desperation that could no longer be pushed down. Your head was almost resting back against Ville’s shoulder now, and his face was pressed into your neck to muffle his own loud groans.

“I can’t last. Holy shit, you feel so good.” He breathed out in ecstasy against your skin, his words drawn out and strained as the pace of his hips rolling up into you gradually starting to increase as he reached that near-hysteric level of pleasure.

You wiggled your hips down on his cock as you shifted and fussed in his arms, the pleasure of him fucking right into your sweet spot making you begin to shake and jolt in his arms harder than what you could cope with. Every inch of your skin felt hot and tingly, and your heart was racing in your chest as he grabbed your hand where it was over his as he held you and laced your fingers together.

Yeah, Ville Valo definitely wasn’t just any client.

He still didn’t let up his tight seal on your mouth as he continued to muffle your pleasure-drunk moans into almost nothing, so you had no way to warn him when you finally reached your climax. The added impact of the continued thrusts of his cock heightened your orgasm considerably, and your hips jolted hard and involuntarily as you close-to-hyperventilated through the pleasure that was igniting your every nerve.

Ville let out a long, stuttered groan right against your ear before you could tell he was cumming too, his grip tightening considerably on your hip while his hand dropped clean away from your mouth as he chased his own high. His thrusts were sloppy and desperate, but you still found yourself pressing your knuckles to your lips to replace his hand as you shook and whimpered through the aftershocks of his cock still sliding into you after your orgasm had faded into sharp sensitivity.

When Ville finally slowed to a stop as his still-ragged breathing sounded right alongside yours, his hand rubbed absentmindedly against your hip where he had let your hand go due to the impact of his climax. The room felt a little warmer than it had ten minutes ago, but you didn’t dare pull away from him yet as you tried to bring yourself down out of space and back into your brain.

“Fuck. If only all those fangirls knew what you were really like.” You mused hoarsely, your voice feeling dry in your throat after having Ville’s hand over your mouth for so long. When you regrettably had to force yourself to slowly pull off of his cock and turn out of his lap and onto your feet, you were met with just the smallest curl of his lips at your words.

“I told you I have a thing for the ones that don’t like me.” He reminded you coyly, clearly eyeing you as you focused yourself on retrieving and redressing in the pants you had abandoned on the floor. He was then up soon after you, peeling off his condom and discarding it in a trashcan that was normally only used for tattoo supplies. You snorted, not bothering to draw your eyes away while he tucked himself back into and rezipped his jeans considering he really wasn’t ashamed of his own stare.

“I thought it was obvious, but I wouldn’t have done any of that if I didn’t like you.” Your smart tone wasn’t lost on him, and you had barely pulled your pants and underwear back up over your hips before he was right up in your personal space with his eyes on yours as if he had deemed your pupils his home.

“Yeah? What are you going to do when I come back?” He sounded as if he was mostly curious, but you didn’t miss the way his pitch dropped as he studied you. You quirked your eyebrows as you finished redressing, not pulling back away from him.

“Depends on whether or not you’re getting a tattoo dedicated to someone when I see you next.” You couldn’t help yourself, alright? If he hadn’t been prepared for jokes, he should have never told you in the first place.

Ville rolled his eyes then, pulling back to shake his head as you laughed to yourself. You were paying half a mind to the fact that you were definitely going to have to do a serious wipe-down of your tattoo chair once he left the shop.

“Just…don’t quit on me like the last one did.” Although that was worded as concern over potentially losing a second tattoo artist in a span of a few years, you could see the suggestive look on Ville’s face as he said it, and you couldn’t hide your smile despite trying to cope with the fact that your time with Ville would soon be up for the next foreseeable year (at the very least).

“I’ll be right here where I was next time you come back.” You promised, knowing that even if it wasn’t for a while, you would always look forward to the time you got to see Ville Valo again. Maybe for other reasons now than before, but the notion still applied. You were sad to see that he had his shirt back on and all of his stuff together, but you knew he’d end up back on the shop’s doorstop with a half-soggy pack of cigarettes in one hand sooner or later. He neared the door then, and you felt your heart jolt as he winked at you.

“Who knows. Maybe I’ll actually get the ink I paid for next time I see you.” To your surprise, instead of immediately leaving, Ville pulled you in then, not giving you much room to protest before he was kissing you slowly. The taste, though now familiar, made your composure swim dangerously, and you fisted one hand in the worn material of his shirt as you indulged the urge to deepen the kiss. It was hard to break away when the both of you finally forced yourselves to. “Bye, Y/n.”

“Bye, Valo. I’ll see you when the booze sales go up again.”

#ville valo #ville valo smut #ville valo x reader #ville valo fic #ville hermanni valo #HIM #his infernal majesty #jackass #jackass mtv #jackass imagine #jackass movie

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karlachismylife · 3 months ago

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Total eclipse of the heart

re-posting this since it was buried by that shadowban, so sorry if you've already seen this, i appreciate every one of you!!

Dog tags can be so many things, learns Karlach when she spots an unfamilar piece of jewelry among other alien things Soap brought from his world.

Second part (NSFW) here - Worshipping the Sun

Everything about these four men was foreign and piqued curiosity: from their clothes and ammunition to the way they spoke and treated every task given as a unit. Believing they came from another world wasn't that hard given the unfortunate circumstances, what's news about some other dimension after you were literally carrying a "gift" that travelled through space in your head? If there were illithids, githyanki, devils and gods, was it really so unbelievable that somewhere else there was a world with buildings that could house hundreds of people and weapons able to kill that same amount of people in mere seconds? Yet somehow these four very mortal, very normal men were more of a mystery than whatever Gale was hiding under his robe or Shadowheart kept in her pocket.

It was mostly in how different their reality seemed to what everyone else in the party knew. No matter how well they were trained to adapt to anything and everything, coming to terms with magic, shapeshifters and pacts with devils was much harder for those who called themselves "task force 141" than it was for every other member of the party to get used to their unusual arsenal of (mostly useless now as it turned out) weapons or tales of "tanks" and "helicopters". They surely tried to hide it, but the wariness that showed in their stances when approaching the most mundane things like a little water creation scroll was noticeable even in the less readable Ghost, even moreso in the expressive Soap. He would curse, mouth agape, thick accent and wide open blue eyes, no matter if he saw a goblin horde charging their way or Halsin having a thoughtful conversation with a random squirrel. At the beginning Johnny even had a bruise on his tanned arm from earnestly pinching it every time he witnessed something out of the ordinary; Ghost kept chastasing him for putting on a full comedy yet not even once refused to pinch his sergeant when asked.

To be honest, Karlach thought it was very funny.

She was a whole bunch of unbelievable things put into one for him; from the devilish appearance to the god forsaken engine, and her quickly growing friendship - or comradery - with the task force and especially Johnny allowed for the longest conversations consisting mainly of questions about every single thing they found odd in each other. She would sit next to him, a safe distance to keep poor lad from cooking alive, smiling cheeks propped onto big red palms and tail curling and swishing as Soap told her about random Earth bullshit - grenades, football clubs, obscure scottish alt bands... and Karlach definitely tried her best to imagine all those wild things, even if her interpretation sometimes was slightly off.

"What's that?" Her claw pointed at his chest, making Soap glance down. Was she talking about his vest? He pushed his thumbs under the heavy weight and lifted it slightly off his shoulders, cocking a bushy eyebrow. "No, I meant this... is that an amulet? You better keep an eye on it, soldier, I heard Gale's getting hungry. What's it for?"

His dog tags. He almost forgot about the dangling pieces, two non-reflecting circles with an engraving that wouldn't make much sense to Karlach even if she could read it. With a chuckle, Soap pulled the chain off and wrapped it around his fist, showing off dark letters to the tiefling's marvelling gaze.

"Nae, lass, these aren't an amulet. Tis 'n identification tag. So that they'll ken what name tae put on a grave even if mah handsome mug is in ten different places." Karlach scooted even closer, narrowing her tiger eyes in an attempt to look properly. "Tis here mah name, mah blood type, mah service number... the whole lad in five lines. Quite concise, isnae it?"

Concise it was. Those little characters stamped into firm steel were unreadable to her, yet they were everything that would be left of Johnny for sure in this world. No one would remember him as a kid playing football, not a crying widow clutching her wedding band, no devastated mother with a family picture in a black frame, no bookshop keepers that used to scold him for sneaking a peek or two into the adult magazines at the age of fifteen. Even when the whole party would be gone, failed to preserve each other, turned into tentacle-faced mosters or buried in a desolated place, there would be someone to remember, someone to mourn.

Yet everything Johnny and his lads would have are these little steel discs that will never tell anyone how deep the northern sea in his eyes was, how invisible the formiddable mount of Ghost could get in any environment, how fast Gaz could solve a puzzle even in a temple of an unknown god in a land he didn't know even existed, how lush was Price's beard... a number, a name and a religion no one in Faerûn even heard of. Here, in a whole another world, these tags danglng over Soap's knuckles were nothing more than just a constant reminder of impending death. A part of his grave already hanging down from his neck.

"Not much use of it here then, is there?" Karlach couldn't keep the flooding thoughts inside. She looked up at Johnny's smiling - still smiling, like he was proud to show off how little would be left of him - face. "They didn't give us anything like this in Avernus. Probably just as useless anyway, no one's burying anyone there. No one cares."

"Take 'em." He said it with such ease. Reached out his hand and let go of the chain, allowing it to slip right into Karlach's catching grasp. The tags were still carrying that barely noticeable warmth of his palm, and Karlach squeezed them instinctively, savouring this surrogate touch with eyes shut and breath slightly wavering. "I'm in no rush to die, eh. "'N ye get to ken wha' it's like to be a part o' a team tha' cares."

Karlach opened her eyes and looked at the slowly heating up tags on her big palm. The initial devastating thought of wearing your own death around your neck slowly withered away, like a large piece of ash on the wind. Being a part of the team, knowing there were other soldiers to have your back... that was a thought she could get behind.

"Doesn't feel right, mate. They're yours, your name and everything..." Before she could even give them back, Soap stood up, grabbing his gun like a kid dragging a toy by its little plush paw.

"Och, tis right if ah give them to ye. C'mon, just wear them until we make ye yer own." Johnny checked one of the straps on his thigh and then suddenly winked at Karlach. "Besides, maybe ah just wanntae see ye sportin' mah name around tha' bonnie neck, soldier. Fur protection purposes, ye ken."

She blinked, feeling her cheeks - and engine for that matter - slightly heating up, and then quickly slid the chain over her head, careful not to catch it with horns. Hanging on her chest, the dark round plate in front of glowing sunshine of her engine looked like a solar eclipse.

"So it is an amulet after all," she muttered, touching now warm metal with clumsy fingers. Soap smirked, unable to hide his own blush. Despite a heavy tactical vest his chest seemed vulnerable and bare without the tags. Like anyone would be able reach a hand and rip his heart out as they did to Karlach.

Well, they would be able if his heart wasn't already snatched.

"Aye, bonnie. Fur ye it is."

#yes soap is down bad for karlach wearing his tags #so am i #part two maybe??#karlach x soap #karlach #bg3 karlach #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #john soap mactavish #soap cod #cod #call of duty #fluff #a little angst #oneshot #fanfic

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wastelandmoony · 8 months ago

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Déjà Vécu

Chapter Thirty : Teenage Kicks

Characters: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader (no use of y/n), James Potter, Petter Pettigrew, Regulus Black, Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, Lily Evans, Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI

A/N: I had a few people message about a taglist, and since I'm the stupidest person alive I totally forgot who asked and now can't find your names to tag. So if you want to be added to a taglist, please message me again so I can add y'all <3

Déjà Vécu Masterlist

Companion Playlist

Read on AO3

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May 24th, 1977

Emmeline had broken up with Sirius after his refusal to apologize for not celebrating Valentine’s Day, not that he minded in the slightest. The rest of the group was so elated by her absence, that they even briefly discussed throwing a party in honor of it (Lily shut down the idea for being “a tad too cruel” for her liking). They all quickly fell back into the old routine of eating meals together in the Great Hall (sans vigorous public displays of affection), only with a new seating change. Sirius sat beside her for every meal now, hand on her knee underneath the table, a silent reassurance between them both that he was there, and that she was safe. She was done fighting the feelings between them, letting Sirius be as close as he wanted, and he seemed to never want to be more than an arms-length away.

In a sick parallel of events, she began to have nightmares, recognizing them as the similar trauma-induced ones Sirius had endured. Not one to broadcast her own issues, she kept the problem under wraps and suffered in silence. Each night became the same routine of silencing charms and attempts to lull herself to sleep wrapped in the soft gold sheets of her bed. When she did finally slip into a dream, they were never good. Flashes of dark forest, vicious hands with bloodied nails coming to tear at her flesh, sinister laughter at her cries. When she’d jolt awake mid-scream, face wet with tears, she could still feel their bruising grip. After a few weeks of sleepless nights she became a zombie, trudging through the motions of the day with deep circles under both eyes. Sirius noticed quickly, having spent years in the same predicament. He cornered her one morning after breakfast, pulling her into an alcove just beyond the main staircase.

“How bad is it?” His intense stare made her squirm against the wall. She began to fidget, not daring to look him directly in the eye.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

He leaned closer, arms caging her in as he rested both hands beside her head, “You’re a shit liar, have you seen yourself? You look like a ghost. I know you’re not sleeping, so tell me.”

Slowly, she dragged her tired eyes up to his. Though his words were direct, his face was soft and kind, gaze full of careful concern. Sirius brushed a hand down her hair as she finally cracked.

“I keep seeing it. Over and over again, every night. I don’t know how to stop it…” She wanted to cry, but no tears would come; she was too exhausted.

“Oh love,” Sirius kissed her forehead, pulling her in close, “We’ll fix it. Come to the tower tonight, we’ll figure something out.”

She didn’t want to tell the others, not about the terrors, not about the incident, not about…whatever it was her and Sirius were doing, so she crept up to Gryffindor Tower under the cover of darkness with the help of the map Sirius had slipped to her that afternoon. James and Peter slept like the dead, so the creak of the dormitory door wouldn’t wake them. Remus however, was a wildcard, and she prayed that he hadn’t heard the relatively loud groan that occurred as she pushed open the heavy wooden door. Pausing to listen to anyone stirring, she continued to tip-toe towards Sirius’ bed, slipping through the curtains to find him lounging against his headboard waiting for her. Upon seeing her face, Sirius opened his arms in silent invitation, and she quietly climbed across to fall into his comforting embrace. When she woke up the next morning, it had taken a few moments to realize she had slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

Most (if not all) nights were now spent sneaking into Sirius’ bed after the other three boys had gone to sleep, slipping out at dawn after having slept peacefully against his familiar body. If any of them had caught on, they didn’t say a word. Nor did she care at that point.

At the end of May, she crept through the bed curtains as usual, only to find him uncannily quiet and upset.

“Hey, you alright?” She whispered, climbing over his legs to settle into her usual spot.

He shook his head, sinking down further and closing his eyes in a futile attempt at avoiding the conversation. She pulled the blankets back from his face, “Don’t you try and pretend to fall asleep Sirius Black, I know you better than that.”

The ghost of a smile graced his lips, “Smart ass.”

She pushed his hair back from his eyes, “Tell me what’s going on.”

Sirius sighed, hand trailing up her arm in a self-soothing gesture, “It’s Reggie.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She’d seen Regulus with Evan and the others a handful of times since the incident in February, and every time she had felt like throwing up. He had been present during it, she saw him, but after her eyes were shut she had no way of determining who was who. Frankly, she didn’t want to know which one of them had been Regulus. She understood that he was Sirius’ brother, and there would always be an underlying bond between them, but she hated him nonetheless. Part of her was still angry that Sirius didn’t seem to share the same hatred for what his brother had done to her.

Her throat was dry as she fought the urge to scream, “What about him?”

Sirius turned on his back and stared at the canopy, “…he took the mark.”

His voice was laden with devastation and disbelief, the presence of which instantly dissolved all of her ill feelings surfacing about Regulus. She remembered that Christmas at the Potters, the fear in Sirius’ eyes as he explained the dark mark to them. They both knew what this meant for his brother, and that everything had changed.

“You’re sure? How do you know?”

Sirius shrugged in a feeble attempt to seem unfazed, “Prongs heard some rumors and told me, but then at practice earlier I saw something peeking out of his kit and confronted Reg about it.”

“I’m sorry,” she laid down, head leaning on his arm, “They didn’t…they didn’t force him, did they?” The image of Sirius laying in a pool of blood on the Potter’s sitting room floor flashed through her mind, and she swallowed the bile in her throat. He shook his head slowly.

“I’m not sure which is worse to be honest,” he whispered sadly, “my parents holding him down, or the fact that he took it willingly.”

They laid in silence for a few minutes, the weight of everything pressing down on them. Sirius rolled onto his side, pulling her closer.

“Reggie is the one that told me,” he whispered into her hair, “back in February. He found me and brought me to the forest…”

The admission stole the breath from her lungs. Her entire body froze as she scrambled for something, anything, to say in response. Ultimately, she couldn’t. The silence stretched between them again, Sirius’ breathing eventually evening out as he fell asleep. She laid there for a while pressed against the warmth of his body, trying to come to terms with the fact that Regulus had been the one to save her that night.

———

June 27th, 1977

“Bunch of bloody traitors,” Sirius muttered, pushing his way past James and Peter on the way to the train. She laughed as he strode up beside her at the front of the group, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

“Now, now,” she rolled her eyes as Sirius stuck his tongue out at the rest of their friends trailing behind, “there’s no reason for name calling. We’re going to have a great time this summer! I can’t wait to show you around London!”

A month prior, James had excitedly announced that the Potters’ (including Sirius) were going on vacation to Spain this summer, Lily would be tagging along as well. Sirius had groaned loudly, immediately followed by a dramatic exclamation that he’d “rather die than be a perpetual third wheel all holiday”. He turned to Pete and asked if he could stay at his instead, only to be met with a sheepish grin.

“Sorry mate,” Peter shrugged, “my family’s going away as well.”

“Are you fucking joking?” Sirius stared between his friends, mouth slack, “Moony?”

Remus shook his head, “You know better than to ask to stay at mine.”

Sirius shut his mouth into a thin line, eyes falling on her.

“Yellowjacket…” he purred from beside her on the bench.

“Yes, Sirius?” she made her voice as monotoned as possible to piss him off. When he didn’t answer, she turned, his blue eyes mock-pleading and bottom lip jutting out. She scoffed. “Jesus Christ, knock off the theatrics,” she swatted at him, “I’ll ask my parents if you can stay with us, but no promises!”

Her parents had of course, both said yes. They had met the boys on multiple occasions throughout the years and loved them all dearly, and had been hearing her talk about Sirius specifically for a while now.

As they got off the train at Kings Cross, Sirius brought her into a crushing bear hug.

“See you in a few weeks, I hope you won’t miss me too much,” he squeezed as she struggled to break free.

“Keep choking me like this and I’ll rescind the invitation entirely,” she laughed, pinching his sides in retribution. He let go with a dramatic gasp, hand over his heart in faux-offense.

She leaned up to kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you in a few weeks, Siri.”

The slight pink tint to his face didn’t go unnoticed as she said goodbye to the rest of her friends, eagerly joining her parents at the back of the crowd to begin what she hoped would be one of the best summers of her life.

———

July 30th, 1977

She had assumed that letting Sirius stay in her parent’s muggle house, on a muggle street, in a muggle town would be a fiasco, but what she hadn’t expected was how quickly and enthusiastically he absorbed the culture. From the moment he arrived via Floo in their sitting room, the widest smile plastered to his face, he was eager to take in as much of the muggle world as he could. Driving in a car for the first time had him practically foaming at the mouth, making a point to press every button and crank every handle he possibly could, just to see what it would do.

He helped her mother out in the kitchen, learning how to not only use muggle utensils and tools, but how to cook in general, which was a skill his family apparently deemed “beneath a member of the Noble House of Black” he had explained with an eye roll. His favorite thing to cook was pasta, specifically spaghetti, and her mum had taught him how to make sauce from scratch. He beamed as they all ate it, watching with sparkling eyes as they praised his new found culinary talent. Sirius washed the dishes afterwards as well, always jumping up before anyone else to try his hand at scrubbing pots and plates with the little yellow and green sponge in the sink. She caught him using his wand once or twice, but only when she knew he was growing impatient with a particular spot.

Her father showed him around the garage, and Sirius drooled over the sight of her dad’s old beat-up Volkswagen that he’d been working on since she was a kid. They spent hours out there, blasting rock ’n roll and fine tuning beneath the hood. It almost became a struggle to get them inside the house, if it wasn’t for the promise her mother offered to let Sirius use the electric mixer to make dessert.

Though he technically grew up in London, Sirius had never stepped foot outside of Islington. He’d never been able to explore the city, or even spend any time walking beyond the front steps of Grimmauld Place. The thought of such isolation baffled her, giving her intense feelings of claustrophobia. They spent a few days shuttling about the city to the typical tourist spots, just so he could say he’d been there. Though he loved the muggle world, most of the famous sites seemed to bore him; except for the London Eye, he loved being up so high and waving at passing tourists (you can take the boy out of the quidditch pitch and whatnot…) She knew the perfect place that would set his blood on fire: Camden.

Watching Sirius explore muggle London was a trip, but watching his face illuminate while stepping out of the tube station in Camden Town made her heart swell exponentially. The sounds of live music from local clubs filled the streets, paired with the market vendors selling everything from jewelry, to clothes, to random paraphernalia; Sirius was a certifiable kid in a candy store. But all of that joy seemed like nothing compared to when he saw a motorcycle up close and personal. The only thing she could assume it felt like, was when she saw Hogwarts for the first time. Sirius had frozen in place on the sidewalk, watching as the rider strapped on his helmet and swung a leg over the red and chrome frame. As he revved the bike to life, Sirius’ breath caught, watching with awe and longing as the rider pulled away, the rumbling exhaust rattling their bones.

“When we leave school,” he muttered to her, still in a daze, “I’m going to get one of those.”

She laughed, pulling him along towards the market stalls, “Well if that’s the case, you’ll need to look the part.” Holding up a black leather jacket from a vendor selling different wildly flashy garments, she motioned for him to try it on. As he inspected the sleeve length and ran fingers over the zippers and buttons, he smiled.

“Your old one was getting gross,” she laughed again, handing the vendor some cash as Sirius beamed.

“Pub?” She raised her eyebrows, already knowing the answer. He threw a leather-clad arm around her shoulders, “You know me too well, little bee.”

———

“It’s definitely not as good at Ogden’s, but I’ll take it,” Sirius shot back Jack Daniels and grimaced. Though he didn’t care much for muggle whisky, he did seem to love the beer (she promised to smuggle some in their trunks for the ride back to school in September).

When the sun had set, and they had a little bit of a buzz, they meandered out into the street, walking down towards the river. The muffled sound of music carried from a few blocks away, the area fully alive even late into the night. They found themselves stopping beneath an old stone bridge, Sirius pulling out his cigarettes and offering her one. After a confirming nod, he lit them, handing one over with an annoying little bow.

“Fuck off,” she mumbled in jest, smirking as she watched him take a drag, the ember illuminating his face as he inhaled.

“So what now?” Smoke curled around his head, making him look practically ethereal in the low light.

“Uhm, well, we could see if there’s anything going on at the Roundhouse? Maybe even Dingwalls?” She flicked at her cigarette, watched as Sirius’ gaze turned to the walls of the bridge, covered in a multitude of graffiti and etchings.

“We should write something,” he covertly took out his wand and placed it against the stone.

“Sirius, no,” she let out a nervous laugh, “we’ll get in trouble—“

“Who’s going to know?” He motioned around under the empty bridge.

“The Department of Improper Use of Magic Office!” She hissed.

Sirius gave her a look, “Don’t be such a swot. They can’t trace who did magic, just where. Even if they find out, the most we’ll get is a warning.”

He was right, there was no one around, and the muggle cops rarely cared about what happened down here unless you were selling drugs or something. She sighed, leaning back against the wall as Sirius smirked and began muttering something while moving his wand around the stone. He nudged her with an elbow a few seconds later when he’d finished, “Your turn, Yellowjacket.”

Etched into the wall was Sirius Orion Black, he even added little crudely drawn stars above it for extra flair. She rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand, adding her own name beneath his, sans any additional doodles.

“Happy?” She said as she put her wand away.

He stared at their names, mulling something over.

“Hmmm…almost,” he mumbled, putting his wand back to the stone. A moment later, he took a final step back to admire his work. “There!” He exclaimed cheerfully.

A poorly drawn heart encompassed their names, one side of it being a little too wonky.

“Is that supposed to be a leaf?” She joked.

Sirius scowled, “No you fucker, it’s a heart!” He jabbed a finger into her ribs, tickling her as punishment. She gave a playful yell and grabbed his arm, “Knock it off!”

His hands flattened against her ribs, holding her in place as they stood pressed against each other. One of Sirius’ hands began to travel, trailing upwards to curve around the side of her neck. Her breath caught, the thumping heartbeat in her ears was so loud that she could barely hear when he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

She exhaled, almost as if she had been holding her breath since they had met all those years ago on the train.

“What took you so long?” She whispered.

And then his mouth found hers.

———

She needed him like oxygen, couldn’t get enough. He kissed her like he felt the same, one hand cradling her jaw as he explored every inch of her mouth.

God, he was intoxicating. Her head swam like she’d downed a bottle of whisky, hands roaming to graze beneath the hem of his shirt. Sirius pulled back slowly, eyes filled with what could only be described as reluctant restraint.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he whispered, licking his bottom lip. Her hands stilled against him, taking in the almost tortured look on his face.

“Please, Sirius,” she gripped his belt, “don’t ever stop.”

Then his mouth was on her again with a ferocity she had never experience before. He was consuming her; his taste, the feel of his body pressed against hers, the smell of smoke and leather and spice was overwhelming every sense. Her hands couldn’t move fast enough, couldn’t explore his body enough.

None of it was enough.

It would never be enough.

She would always want more of him.

She would always need him.

Sirius pushed her against the stone wall of the bridge, lifting to wrap her legs around his waist. As he trailed down her neck, one of her hands found its way to his hair, fingers running through the silken mess that she loved so much. The stones cut into her back as she arched against him, Sirius taking the opportunity to bite at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“Siri—“ she gasped, tightening her legs around him.

He groaned into her neck, “Say my name like that again, and we’ll never leave from under this bridge.”

She pulled at his hair and he laughed, even in the dark his smile lit up her soul. Sirius kissed her again slowly, until the sound of a passing group of people tore them from the moment.

He brushed a thumb over her bottom lip as she spoke, “Wanna check out one of the clubs?”

Sirius shook his head slowly, voice low, “I’d much rather continue this conversation at home.”

Home.

The way he had said it made her thoughts spiral. In the blink of an eye, she could picture it. A life, a future, with him. She hadn’t put much thought into what life would look like post-Hogwarts. The boys would always be a part of it obviously, but they all seemed to be diverting onto their own paths, and it looked like maybe Sirius’ was parallel to hers.

She kissed him one last time, setting her feet back on the ground. Lacing their fingers together she laughed, pulling him from under the bridge, “C’mon, I’m not letting you leave Camden without seeing a live show.”

Dingwalls was packed when they arrived, a new punk band from Surrey apparently playing a set that night. Drinks in hand, they pushed towards the stage, finding a spot against one of the side walls to stand against. Sirius pulled her back against his chest as they danced and drank to the fast thrumming of the music. He let his hands wander, leaning down to kiss her as much as he wanted. Maybe it was the atmosphere, the sweaty bodies and loud music drowning their senses, or maybe it was something else entirely, but time ceased to exist around them. Her hands tangled in Sirius’ hair as they leaned against the wall, his knee wedged between her legs as the the pounding drums echoed the elevated beat of their hearts. His arousal was evident against her thigh, and she smiled against the column of his neck as she pressed closer.

“You’re killing me, bee,” Sirius groaned into her ear, following up with a gentle bite to her lobe.

She looked up at him, eyes trying to convey innocence though she knew he didn’t buy it for a second. “Wanna head back?”

He kissed her for emphasis, grabbing her hand and practically dragging her out the door.

Later that night, she laid in her bed unable to relax. Her parents had already been asleep when her and Sirius arrived back from Camden well after midnight, tiptoeing upstairs to their respective rooms. The journey back had sobered them up a little, the night air cooling down whatever intense feelings had flared to near catastrophic levels in the club. Sleep never came, and she instead stared at the ceiling and tried to turn all thoughts away from Sirius Black sleeping across the hall. But when her bedroom door cracked open, a wave of relief washed over her.

Sirius shut it quietly, climbing into bed beside her like they had done so many times throughout the years. As he settled down beneath the sheets she turned to face him, “Can’t sleep?”

Sirius’ hand trailed along her hip, “I told you we’d finish our conversation from earlier, didn’t I?”

She smiled into a kiss, wrapping herself entirely in him.

In the early hours of dawn, she awoke to Sirius’ even breaths and perfect skin. He looked like a painting, like one of the romantics had crafted him from pure desire and passion and beauty. She almost felt guilty waking him, but at the risk of her parents seeing him leave her bedroom, it had to be done. He groaned into her neck as she scratched the back of his head.

“If you don’t go back to your room, my parents will kill us both,” she whispered, kissing him on the temple. Sirius made another dramatic noise as he sat up, reaching over the side of the bed for his clothes. Before leaving, he kissed her again, one filled with promises for more.

“See you at breakfast,” he murmured against her lips, slipping out the door and back to his room without another sound.

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lavenderthe8 · 3 months ago

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haikyuu!! edm artists

i go to a lot of raves and this is an idea ive been poking at for awhile so enjoy xx

sugawara

melodic bass

think: seven lions, trivecta

literally the sweetest DJ everrrrr

when he plays festivals, he never goes to the fan meet and greets

likes to walk around instead and meet his fans face to face (and he never wants them to pay money to see him)

is always fighting with the ticket companies to lower the ticket prices for his fans

also, is an avid kandi kid

literally was making full on rotating cuffs at like age twelve

he loves to collab with other artists, although he just can’t get behind hardstyle or dnb

he went to a warehouse rave like one time when he was in university, and just never went back again (it scared him a little bit)

yamaguchi actually sings a lot of the vocals for his songs, too

and of course, anyone that went to karasuno gets free tickets for lifeeeee

and ofc hinata always shows up to a few of suga’s shows, usually four or five a year

makki (and mattsun)

trap

think: troyboi, alison wonderland

literally just started remixing songs together in high school for the parties that oikawa would throw and it kinda just spiraled from there

started to just fuck around and do his own thing, and after awhile he stopped remixing and just started to make his own beats

actually stopped it for a long time after he graduated high school

kinda forgot about it before he heard that kyoutani had become pretty famous off his edm music

so he decided to go back and start playing around with it again

started releasing his songs, and eventually he got to open at a super small show near him

just like blew up after that

mattsun (and makki)

hardstyle

think: gammer, headhunterz

same thing with makki, DJing was not really at the top of his priority list, like, ever

he played around with makki’s mixer a lot when they were in school together, but he never really gave it much thought

makki was crashing at his place for a bit, and he mentioned that he was playing a show near them, so mattsun decided to tag along

literally fucking FELL in love with makki’s set, and immediately wanted to learn how to make songs too

they worked at it for awhile, and eventually mattsun found a type of edm that he really enjoyed making

started collabing almost immediately after, and got like a massive amount of fans really quickly

also, their visuals are like so silly

(lots of shrek and whatever stupid shit that’s been viral that week)

kyoutani also refuses to play shows with them because makki and mattsun have so many bad pictures of him from high school that they use on their merch and promotion videos and stuff

kyoutani

dubstep (duh)

think: subtronics, wooli

come on, you know this boy loves dubstep

as far as headbangers go, kyoutani gets whiplash at literally every show he goes to

super into edm growing up, and he always knew that he wanted to be a DJ

he bought himself a cheap starter kit in high school and from then on his career was pretty much set in stone

pretty bad at promoting himself, most of his social media literally was just him pointing at the camera and bopping his head along to one of his own tracks

but he DOES have a really big following

mostly because people would fall in love with him when they saw him playing a set (can you blame them?)

picks up A LOT of girls because of it

also, oikawa never lets him live it down, but kyoutani doessss have to give him credit for his DJ name lol

really wants to collab with kenma one day (it’s in the works, don’t worry)

and no comment on the makki and mattsun merch, although he does buy a new shirt every time they drop one with his face on it

tendou

techno

think: space 92, hi-lo

tendou was going to underground raves since he started high school idcidc

the music helped him focus soooo much, he would literally listen to it when he was studying

he even used it to fall asleep sometimes

after graduation when semi joined his band, tendou would tag along to the studio with him

eventuallyyyy he learned how to produce rock music, and then he started making his own beats

he also doesn’t really take inspiration from other artists, which is cool

just hears the track in his head and BOOM — he makes it into a song

doesn’t really have a following, he just plays when and where he can

but people love his energy, so he always has a good sized crowd watching him

atsumu

bass house

think: space laces, ac slater

experimented with a lot of different sounds before he finally found something that fit

eventually though, he fell in love with the dancing more than he did the actual music

he would go to shows to try and find inspo and would end up watching the ravers more than he would the actual DJ’s

eventually learned how to rave shuffle, and that’s when he realized that bass house was his calling

when he was playing a set and looked out to the crowd, it made him sooooo happy to see people dancing to his music

is also the type of DJ to call out 1… 2… 1, 2, 3, 4 before every fucking drop

it made osamu so mad when they were playing a show together

he also only listens to house music, even on his off days

so when he can’t find any new music to listen to, he just makes his own

has a really big following, but definitely wants to push himself and start headlining at festivals one day

suna

drum and bass

think: subsonic, noisia

prettiest DJ award goes to suna

he just knows exactly how to read the crowd

is very good at knowing the vibe and matching what the crowd wants

also, is just very beautiful

but his sets are always, like, super weird

lots of really experimental sounds and his visuals are like… scary? in a way

so his music definitely isn’t for everyone

has more of a cult following than anything, but he doesn’t care much about being in the spotlight

he plays edm because HE likes it, he could give a fuck what anyone else thinks

is also never seen without a beanie on

it’s sort of a game to his fans — “take a picture of suna without his fucking hat on”

(they never can)

osamu

midtempo bass

think: rezz, kloud

doesn’t have flashy visuals or lasers or anything like that

gets criticized a lot because some people say that his shows are “boring”

but his true fans know that’s not true

osamu is there to play music! he isn’t there to put on a light show

has a really big group of fans that are ride or die for him — a lot of them say that if you’ve never been to one of his sets, you’re not a real raver

sort of a staple DJ in the “sober rave” community

is super supportive of his fans, and he even has a link on his website for people to send in their own personal stories about what it’s like to be a sober raver

also HATES to collab with other people that he doesn’t know, it’s hard for him to understand their vision

which is why he usually only collabs with atsumu

also, is known for not saying a word during his shows

he walks on, plays some music, and walks off (and people love him for it)

kenma

progressive house

think: acivii, zedd

biggest DJ of his generation

like, let me just make it clear, kenma is very very famous

he doesn’t really care about the spotlight though

he just loves to play music

doesn’t interact with his fans much, kuroo runs all of his social media because he knows that kenma gets overwhelmed a lot with stuff like that

for the most part though, his fans are super respectful

kenma headlines at the same festivals every year, and he consistently sells out shows at massive venues

feels truly happy when he is DJing

one of his fans sent him a pair of cat ears that they made, and kenma wears them to almost every show he plays

has never actually been to a rave himself

takes a lot of inspiration from very early edm artists

just makes people really happy with his music

honorable mentions

akaashi

designs all of kenma’s merch

usually never attends the shows, he and kenma just have a sort of working relationship where kenma vaguely describes what he wants, and akaashi fulfills his request

does sit through every video that bokuto shows him after a rave, though

he also doesn’t have any social media for himself, he created an account literally to promote kenma

also, says he hates edm, but kenma is his number one spotify artist every year??

bokuto sees through his lies (and is taking him to a rave in a few months)

akaashi says that he isn’t excited (but he actually really is)

kiyoomi

atsumu’s manager

is so good about keeping him on track with scheduling and stuff

“omi, can we go get ice cream?” — “no, atsumu, sound check is in ten minutes.”

is sooooo good about keeping atsumu hydrated

this boy does not drink water, like ever

so omi has literally stopped his set before only to make atsumu down a bottle of water

atsumu ALWAYS dedicates his sets to kiyoomi

and kiyoomi secretly loves him for it

iwaizumi and oikawa

complete rave baes

oikawa’s entire social media presence is: volleyball, volleyball, rave, rave, rave, iwaizumi, iwaizumi at a rave, volleyball

it was actually iwaizumi’s idea to wear matching shoes to their first ever rave

the tradition never stopped

iwaizumi will complain that oikawa takes too many pictures of them during shows but he will also post every single picture of them together

one of oikawa’s “essential” items at a rave is a custom pashmina he had made with a picture of kyoutani sleeping

(they love to torture this poor boy)

will be rave dad’s one day — it’s cannon

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dragonmuse · 4 months ago

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Tagged by @internerdionality to share the first lines of ten of my most recent fanfics! <3 I've only done the last six or so, otherwise we're going back a long ways.

Izzy Gets Reverse Big Banged Voyage Unknown, a small production full of unknowns, took streaming by storm last January. One small, beautiful set and ten actors almost entirely unknown except for leading man, Hugh Reuben (Traitor’s Canyon, Oscar-nominated for Vicious) captured the hearts of many.

A Candle in the Slush In the gray slushy days after New Year’s, Lucius kept up the fairy lights he’d hung in his apartment window for extra light. The world seemed turned against him. Puddles were stepped in, misunderstandings at work put him behind deadlines, and for three days in a row he forgot to buy more creamer, forced to drink his coffee black which always gave him heartburn.

In an octopus' garden with you The thing about being madly, truly, dangerously in love was that it made you want to spread it around. Jim was pretty disgusted by this turn of events, having spent years evading such matchmaking with a dedication usually reserved for avoiding enemy fire.

Leda House Extras: Chapter 214: Me and You and the Lost The moon crested the night sky, nearly full, and the wind stirred through dead leaves, crackle crackle crackle. The air carried the promise of frost. Charlie crunched through them, walking down the middle of the road. The bottle that hung loosely from his fingers slosh slosh, occasionally the glass hit gently against his father’s ring, ting.

The Tell-Tale Twat “There it is again,” Ed’s hand crept into Stede’s “It’s just the wind,” Stede kissed his shoulder. “Really, darling. The horrible moan increased, shivering through the house. “That’s the wind,” Ed said flatly. “A very aggressive breeze off the sea.”

She's Beauty, She's Grace, She'll Punch You in the Face “Come on, come on,” she muttered into the phone. “Pick up....” “J?” Dad’s voice came over the phone and she would cry if she did that sort of thing. “Where are you?” “I’m at the county lockup! Pop took me to dinner and he got pulled over for not using his turn signal and did you know he has an outstanding warrant?” “Oh my fucking god,” Dad said tiredly. “I did not know, but please imagine my surprised Pikachu face.”

I'll tag @napneeders @thetragicallynerdy and anyone else interested. It's early in the day, my brain is refusing to recall names.

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chaifootsteps · 11 months ago

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Anon roll call? Looks like I've gotta come back. Shitcastle anon here, I've been busy but you better bet I'd take the chance to say hi to everyone.

Anyways, I'm 24 and majoring in Anthropology. Used to double major with creative writing, but all my dreams are dead. I still write and draw but not nearly as much as I used to. When it comes to vivzipop, hell. I literally remember getting some kind of ad for Hazbin Hotel before it came out and thought it looked interesting bc I love animation and was in need of a new indie series to watch bc the previous one I was interested in stopped updating indefinitely. I liked it when it first premiered. I was excited for the team when they were picked up by A24. I refused to watch Helluva Boss for awhile because 'it wasn't Hazbin'. But I like Brandon Rogers and have a horrible sense of humor and watched it since episode 2 kept showing up in my recommended. I liked it. Thought it was too fast paced and thought loo loo land should've taken place later in the season and some jokes relied too heavily on the fact that its an adult animation but ehhh heyy what do I know, it's not like the university I'm attending has a stelar arts program or nothing (oh wait it does) flaws exist in all media it's fine farther. I even drew fanart (it was ugly her designs confuse me). Then I introduced my abusive ex to the show and we watched every episode together when it came out. I associate the show with him now. He kins Blitzo (should've been a red flag tbh). So since I was consuming just so much red, I decided to watch youtubers who watch the red and talk about the red. Enter Ayy Lmao. Enter Ken. Here comes the video he made on Ken and my surprised pikachu face at how he responded to it. I never knew about any of the controversies until his abysmal retelling of each and every time Viv even spoke. I went to different social media sites to see so much ass kissing and not enough ass being held accountable. Felt like I was trapped in a room full of flat earthers. But the beloved critical tag existed and I learned so much that I went from happily watching to watching out of wanting to see the story progress to desperately wanting something to be good. The last episode I watched was happy campers I think.

Ok this is too long now and I forgot what else I was supposed to say. Love you What If anon and Taxidermy anon!

It's a delight to get to know the person behind the funniest anon name of the bunch!

#Anonymous #shitcastle anon #vivziepop mention #actual blog post #anon roll call

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roadkiii · 2 years ago

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Entry 1.4.7-1 - Farming Simulator

Welcome to my blog. I’m not tagging anything but entry #, so sorry if my unrelated mess somehow ends up in your search.

1.4 is the first named minecraft update (if we don't count Adventure) which is cool I guess.

Our big goals this version are to create a large crop field for the three existing crops (two new ones :D) and to kill the wither three (3) times.

As I've been thinking toward the future of this world, I've realized I need to revamp my goals a bit, especially since I won't be able to open any naturally generating chests until 1.20 if I want to try to get armor trims faster. I've got a complete running list of goals here :)

I'll be killing a lot of zombies to try to get carrots and potatoes, which I'm not complaining about since I'll need a Lot of experience to enchant all of my armor if I want to survive.

oh nononono fuck no fuck that I'm not redoing everything.

I just double checked and there isnt even a new achievement it just decided to wipe. (update: achievements are linked to all worlds, so I can just get them back in a different creative world lmao)

......yeah I think some kind of barn will also need to be constructed, my sheep refuse to be contained. This'll be a full on barnyard farm I guess.

Okay first a quick distraction, forgot maps got improved and item frames were added. Idk when this will be properly displayed but here's a current look around our little village :)

Spent a night in the swamp north of the village (those maps are helping my sense of direction So Much) and while I didn't get any crops, I'm so happy slimes spawn here now.

Now that I've got 30 levels, let's see if I can't get my hands on a nice new pick enchantment

>:V

I've started putting down pens for my sheep, I'm thinking I'll have several of each color so that I can dick around with pixel art or carpets or whatever later. Currently i've got about 6 pens, trying to cover up some water so I can make it 8 (4 on each side) with maybe 2 colors to a pen? or I can resize them to be 16 individual pens but I'm not sure yet.

I've made some good progress on the farmland, I have four 9x9s of 3x3 farming spaces just so I'm prepped for when Beetroot is added. I think I'll have sugarcane and the stalk crops growing along the pathway between, but I still need to finish getting wood for these frames (excuse my floating leaves)

It's been kind of a pain getting the potatoes and carrots to drop from zombies though, maybe I should turn that dungeon from 1.0-2 into a grinder

Okay maybe I'll be fine without the grinder. Also got another disc finally.

Also went ahead and relocated my sheep, it was difficult to get them sorted (god I cannot wait for leads to be added) but I'm not 100% what I plan on doing with all of the overhead space. i need to finish the floors up there, but maybe I'll just throw some hay bales up? Unsure.

Still no carrots BUT I can now say the only discs I'm missing are Mellohi and 11. There won't be another disc added until Pigstep so it's exciting that I'm so close this early on. (also RIP my helmet. and basically all of my armor.)

Maybe next part I will make that zombie grinder. I could convert it into Drowned grinding for copper later too.

next (1.4.7-2)

#1.4.7 pt1

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stardustmorozov · 2 years ago

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Behind The Old Oak

I completely fault @marvelmusing for pushing me face first down this rabbit hole and hopefully I can now stay out of it (read: I will be immediately pushed back in by the next moodboard she makes)

Pairings: none Warnings: I couldn't really find any, but lemme know if I was wrong and I'll tag it Wordcount: 5327 (I hate you (affectionate))

A/N: If the turning of event feels rather sloppy, I am sorry, I wrote this to get it out of my brain and it seemingly has abandoned litterally any sense for good continuity on this one

Taglist: @kalondarling @ramadiiiisme

The heat of the summer sun beat down on you as through the wide garden of your uncle's estate, fleeing from your shouting nanny after you'd been caught with different kinds of paint all over your new dress.

You laughed as your legs covered the grass field that led to the old woods and the old, hollow oak you loved to hide in.

The shadows from the thick canopy brought some much welcomed shade, soothing the burning heat on your skin as your legs found their way to the trusted oak.

Climbing in was never a problem for you, the opening wide enough that you could practically fall into it.

Backing into the tree you carefully listened for your nanny's footsteps. The tree was always deeper than you remembered, but when you felt something poke into your back, you froze in fear. Had someone discovered you? Were you going to be kidnapped? Or would you just be murdered here, where no one would ever find you?

When you realized that the only thing poking into your back were simple branches, you relaxed a little, immediately wondering what they were doing on the inside of the tree. Pushing them aside, you found more and more and the further you went into the weirdly forested inside of the oak, the more you forgot about your nanny, who was still chasing after you for the paint splatters on your dress.

After what seemed like forever, the trees obstructing your way suddenly parted to reveal a beautiful meadow in the middle of a night covered forest and in the middle there was a single street lantern. No road or communication device had been put next to it and little vine sprouts had started to curl themselves around the foot of the pole.

"A lantern in the middle of a forest. whatever could be the purpose of this?" you mumbled to yourself as you let your fingers glide over the cold, painted steel.

Throwing a look back a the few trees that covered the entrance of the old oak to check if someone was coming after you, you were relieved to see the branches unmoving from anything other than the gentle breeze that had picked up.

Your gaze snapped to your left side as a branch broke under someone's foot, but there was no one to be seen.

You let your hand slip from the lamppost as you carefully made your way towards the sound.

"I know you're there," you called, "It's okay, I won't hurt you." There came no response from the bushes you'd heard the branch snap, but you made your way forward anyway. In between the leaves of the bush you found a little boy, shaking like he was about to say his last prayers, his eyes full of fear as he looked at you. "I'm not gonna hurt you," you gently repeated as you sat down next to him, holding up the palms of your hands to show him you had no ill intentions with him. "What's your name?"

The boy shook his head at your question, seemingly refusing to speak a word with you and for a few moments you simply sat next to each other in silence, only the nightly sounds of the forest surrounding you.

"Sooo... do you want to tell me what you're doing here? A boy like you shouldn't be out here on his own at night."

At your words, his expression changed from fear, to confusion. "You don't know?"

"What should I know? I know that it is very late at night and that boys like you shouldn't be wandering about spying on strangers. Especially not a this hour."

"You mean you don't know who the Darkling is?"

"What? Darkling? No... I mean, who he is he?"

"He is the one that has kept it dark here for nearly four hundred years now," the boy explained with a small voice. "It has been night here for so long and no one has been able to defeat him. There was a prophesy saying someone could, but people have long since given up on that hope."

"Prophecy?"

"There was a telling of a Grisha who could summon the sun. That they would unite the Ravkans and lead us into battle against the Darkling."

"This shit's getting weirder by the minute," you muttered to yourself as he explained it.

"But ever since he plunged Ravka into an eternal night, no one has ever seen a sun summoner... Most of us try to drive out the dark by making as many lights as we can, but it is hard. The sky is always dark. Somedays I wish I knew what the sun looked like... to feel the warmth of it on my skin."

You hummed in agreement. You could only guess at what the poor boy was feeling. To never know what the summer sun felt like, or the cold light in the winter, the soft and gentleness of it in spring. To not know the sun at all.

"If- if you don't mind me asking though... what exactly is a... Grisha? If I am even saying that correctly."

The boy pondered over that question, looking for the words and the simplest explanation and after a few minutes of silence he seemed to have come with an answer as you watched his expression change from a deep wrinkle to utter delight.

"A Grisha is someone who practices the small science."

"Science?"

"No. The Small Science."

"What is the difference?"

"I don't know exactly... I'd have to ask my sister, she's an Inferni. Someone who can summon fire," he adds when he sees your confused expression. "Saints, you really don't know a lot, don't you? That's okay though, I am sure my sister would be happy to explain the Small Science to you. She absolutely adores it when she can talk to people about her fire. C'mon, I'll take you!" He said as he excitedly pulled you up from your spot in the bushes.

"Now hold on a second buddy, I don't even know your name? And neither do you know mine? And now you want to take me to your families house? Don't you think you're going a little too fast here?"

"What is your name then? Mine is Pasha," the boy chittered as he started to drag you along to what seemed to be a path between the trees.

"Lisa," you lied, not exactly sure about the boy's intentions, or that of his family as he led you along a winding forest trail, further and further away from the safety of your oak.

While you walked the boy chatted your ears of about random things that had happened recently and you nodded along, as if you were understanding what he was saying and after what seemed like forever, the trail became a road and not much further laid a brightly lit, little village. Just like Pasha had told you, the people did everything to drive out the dark as you looked in awe at the many lanterns that hung over head, while just as many lined the sides of the houses as people shuffled about their business, barely sparing you and Pasha a glance as you made your way through the sea of people until someone called his name.

Next to you the little boy froze as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar as he looked in the direction of whoever was shouting his name.

From the crowd, a frail looking girl emerged that looked like she couldn't be much older than him and without hesitation she grabbed the boy's hand, only stopping when she noticed you.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Lisa," you said with a soft smile, "I am assuming you are Pasha's sister?"

"I am," the girl said warily, "what were you doing with Pasha?"

"I found him in the forest, decided that I should maybe bring him home." It was only half the truth, but both you and Pasha seemed to agree that was enough.

"Oh, well then... could I maybe invite you over for dinner? Mom's making mashed potatoes, with meat and salad."

"Perhaps... let's get you two home first. How about that?"

The house were Pasha and his sister --who's name you learned was Luda-- lived, was a little on the edge of the town but no less beautiful, nor was there a lack of any lights as Luda knocked on the door before opening it.

"Mama, we're home!"

From the floor above you, you could hear stumbling and a short, stocky woman made her way down the stairs to greet her two children, fussing to Pasha about how he shouldn't go out to play so close to dinner and thanking Luda for going after her brother, falling still when she got to you.

"I found Pasha in the woods, a little lost. Figured I should bring him home, so... Perhaps I should be going," you explained before she could even ask.

"Please darling," she began, "at least stay for dinner then, it's the least we can do to thank you for bringing our little boy safely back home."

"Only if it is not too much trouble," you weakly protested, already having decided that you wouldn't pass up a free dinner and when their mother pushed again, you relented as she went into the kitchen to prepare a meal. As she did so, Pasha dragged you towards another room that seemed to be made of scorched metal.

"Polina?" the boy called, "I found someone who wants to talk about your fire!" There came no answer from the girl and Pasha carefully entered the room further, clearly looking out for something as he ducked at nearly every little sound.

Polina turned out to be somewhat older than her two younger siblings, but she too, looked like she'd be knocked over by the slightest windfall, but her talk was no less passionate because of it as she showed you all kinds of fire and different burns. It was needless to say that you were absolutely fascinated by the way she could conjure flames from nothing --well, not nothing, she ignited the chemicals in a bubble of air as she explained it to you-- and she showed you a few of the inventions she'd so far unsuccessfully, been working on.

Time flew by and soon enough their mother was calling out for dinner. All of them seemed to devour it as soon as it had been put in front of them, as if they didn't know when their next meal would be.

You talked and chatted with them well until the late hour, when you decided, that perhaps you should go back home.

"Will you come visit us again?" Polina asked from her place under the blankets as you made for the door, accompanied by their mother.

"I'll... I'll see if I can make time somewhere, okay?" you said carefully, not wanting to make a promise you couldn't keep.

"Be safe out there! Don't let them catch you!" Luda and Pasha called after you as their mother closed the door behind the two of you.

"Catch me? What are they talking about?" you chuckled, half imagining adorable little creatures trying to lure you into the night as you stared into the distance, the forest looking ominously over the little town.

"The Darkling's men," the mother sighed as she rubbed her hands over her apron, quickly looking around as to make sure no one is listening. "Sometimes they make patrols... and they take people from their homes. Most of them turn up in a daze several days later, but those who don't... We can only hope the Saints took mercy on them and welcomed them in their arms. If we don't pray for their safety, we can at least pray for their quick and painless death."

"If you look at it that way... yeah I suppose."

"Do you know the way home? I'd give you a lantern, but at this hour it would be safer for you to travel in the dark."

"I'll manage, as long as I can find the lamppost," you said easily as you tried to make out the path in the dark, still half blinded from the lights around the house.

"Then I will pray for your safe arrival, and may the Saints protect you."

With a thank you and a bow of gratitude, you made your way through the main street and soon enough the leaves and branches that had fallen onto the trail were softly crushing under your feet.

You tried your best to remember down which path Pasha had led you, occasionally stopping to look at your surroundings, and deciding to go one way, or to turn back after a little while and take the other. It took you about the double amount of time to get back to the lamppost than when you had walked to the town with Pasha, but when the light of the lamppost finally came into your view you were more relieved than you wanted to be. The trees from which you came were easily identified and you pushed your way through them.

The daylight that fell into the old oak through the thick canopy had you momentarily squinting your eyes as they got used to seeing daylight again. The shouts of your nanny were now considerably closer than when you had entered the tree.

Which either meant that barely any time had passed in the hours that you'd spent with Pasha's family, or that you had indeed been gone for hours and that you know would have to deal with an even more pissed nanny than usual. But as she shouted for you to come out of whatever hiding place you'd found this time to get the unintended colors out of your dress, you figured time had barely passed.

You waited until she was well out of earshot when you finally got out of your hiding place and made a break for the mansion. Once back inside you quickly locked the door to your room and changed into another dress, a much more comfortable one than you had been forced to wear as you picked up some needling work as you waited for your nanny to return from her search for you.

The following week you tried to focus on your school work, but the image of the the three pale and weak looking children wouldn't leave your mind. So when the opportunity finally came you snuck into the kitchen to prepare a picnic basket which you filled with everything from little pastries to some fruit salads.

The trek to the old forest was longer now that you had to haul quite a heavy picnic basket with you, but when you finally reached to old oak, you knew something was wrong.

Hiding the basket in the hollowed trunk you quickly pushed your way through the pricking branches, ignoring how they were pulling at your dress, threatening to even rip it in some places. The lonely lantern stood still shining in the meadow as you came out from the trees, the vines at its foot no longer than when you'd first come here. Your feet easily found the path Pasha had taken to lead you to the village he lived, your eyes seeing more in the dark than they had previously.

The light of the village soon came into view and you sped up, the dread that was forming in your stomach growing only becoming stronger the closer you came. Your heart plummeted into your stomach when you saw a giant black carriage stand in the middle of the main road.

You knew without a doubt that it was the Darkling's carriage, the heavy black a stark contrast to the bright town around it and you wondered whatever could have summoned him to a hamlet like this. Surely there was nothing interesting for him to find here, right?

Trying to make as little sound as you could, you snuck around the town towards the house you knew Pasha lived, only to find a man clad in black to be standing in front of the door. From where you were standing you couldn't hear what he was saying, but you couldn't imagine they were pleasant words. From the backside of the house you could see Pasha and Luda carefully climb out of the window, helping Polina who had a little more trouble with coming down. They didn't notice you as they quickly made for the thick bushes and you decided to follow them. Hoping you'd avoid the man clad in black if you did.

It took you a few minutes to pick up on the path they'd taken but soon enough you were catching onto them and when you were close enough you quietly called their names.

"Lisa! What in the name of the Saints are you doing here?" Luda said in a whisper as if she was reprimanding you.

"Thought I'd come back, give the three of you a picnic," you said, keeping our voice as low as hers.

"Picnic? Wa's that?" Pasha asked curiously, his voice slightly louder than yours but in the quietness of the forest it seemed far louder, the sound making your stomach twist.

"I think it has something to do with food," Polina whispered, "but I am not sure."

"If you can lead me back to that lonely lamppost where I found you Pasha, then I'll show you, okay?"

The boy nodded excitedly as he took the lead, leading the three of you down different winding paths until you were once again standing by the lantern. From there you lead the three kids into the patch of trees you'd come from, the picnic basket still sitting where you left it.

"Why is it so bright here?" Polina asked as she shielded her eyes from a few sunrays that had made its way into the oak.

"Because of the sun."

"Sun? You people have sun here?!"

"Yup," you said as you strained to get the heavy basket off of the floor. "Don't worry, we won't be going into direct sunlight, I won't do that to you."

You finally managed to swing the basket out of the tree and curiously the three siblings followed you, careful not to stray to far from you as they were in awe of how bright and colorful the world around them was.

"So," you said as you put the basket down to unpack it on a fairly clean spot, "why was the Darkling at your house anyway? It isn't like you have a big town with a lot of resources."

"Papa is an amplifier," Polina said as she reached for one of the strawberry pastries, "guess he is looking for more Grisha again to strengthen his ranks."

"So that's why you three fled the house?"

"We did."

"I think Luda is Grisha too, but we don't know for sure and papa refuses to check it," Pasha said as he loudly munched on muffin.

You looked at Luda with renewed interest and you noticed that out of the three of them, Pasha seemed to be the healthiest one.

He also seemed to be the one with the most appetite as he devoured muffin after muffin, while Luda and Polina ate much slower and much less.

"Is that why the both of you look so frail? because you're Grisha?" you asked but Polina shook her head.

"Well no, but also yes... a Grisha's powers are also a source of life for them, using them keeps us healthy, to an extent, and it stretches our lifespan. We live far longer than ordinary people, but from what I have heard it can be more of a curse than a blessing."

"Ever since the Darkling took the throne, very few have been using their power, afraid of being drafted into the Grisha ranks."

"If you could use your power freely, what do you think you'd be doing with them?"

"Work on my inventions with a Fabrikator. There's only so much I can make work as an Inferni without the help of one."

"I want to be a Tailor like miss Safin," Luda said confidently as she laid onto her back to take in the warmth of the sun on her face. "Let people see their own beauty."

"She works with the Darkling and you want to be like her?"

"Pasha. No," you said sternly, hoping the boy would back down from his defense.

"It is not like it is my fault that she's the only Tailor that has existed up until now. I just want to change that."

"So you fall into the category of the.... Corporalki if I am correct?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I can drain the color from someone's hair, but so could a Fabrikator, or with a lot of training and knowledge, an Alkemi. The only thing I know for sure is that I am not a summoner."

"That seems fair... Do you know how to find a heartbeat? Without touching someone I mean, then maybe we can rule out the Durast category. I mean, nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"Lets see..." She kept laying on the ground with her eyes closed as she made some gestures with her hands you didn't understand. "I can find the color of your hair, that of the basket and the leaves surrounding us, but no heartbeats."

"So maybe you're a Fabrikator."

"You think?"

"I mean you tried to look for heartbeats, but instead you found pigments," Polina teased.

You chuckled. "You two are making me wish I was Grisha. Change the world around me while I never have to touch anything. Sounds so cool..."

"It takes practice though, took me a long while before I could consistently summon my flames."

"What do you think you would be?" Pasha asked you as he went for the last of the strawberry pastry, clearly enjoying that he could gorg himself on all the food you'd brought.

"Hmmm, I think...maybe an Inferni, or a Fabrikator? Heartrender sounds cool too."

"Not a Tailor, like miss Safin?"

"I've never cared much for appearance honestly, so no."

"What if you were the sun summoner?" Polina speculated as she worked away the last bit of her pastry.

"I'm not much of a leader Polina. I'm just a merchants daughter. I can't run a company, let alone lead an army. But say that I were, what use would it have? You said yourself that it takes time to master it. You people have been waiting for a sun summoner for so long; I don't think I'd be able to keep it hidden until I am ready for anything."

"Yeah, the Darkling does seem to have eyes everywhere these days... Do you think he's afraid? That he knows one day, sooner or later the sun summoner will take his throne?"

"Who's to say? We can't read the man's mind and none of us have ever spend enough time in his vicinity to figure it out. Not that I particularly want to. For all I care he just drops dead one day. As long as we get to see the sun again," Luda said as she sat up to grab one of the muffins that were left. "And hey, we could always conduct our own test to see if you're the sun summoner. Like you did with me."

"All I did was make a suggestion, but okay. You want me to do it with my eyes closed as well?"

Luda nodded and you closed your eyes, trying to focus on the rays around you and you found it easy to pick a few out without actually seeing them, but when it came to drawing the light to your hands, you found you didn't have much success.

Yet when you opened your eyes, you found the three siblings to be staring at you in awe.

"What are you looking at? Please tell me nothing happened. Right?"

"Nothing happened?!" Pasha exclaimed. "You held the sun in your hands! The sun! In your hands!"

You looked at Polina for confirmation and she nodded. "I mean... it was fizzing in and out of existence, yeah, but it was definitely there."

"Well shit..."

"We promise we won't tell anyone," they all said nearly in unison, panic written all over their faces.

"Hey easy, it is okay, as long as no one but the four of us know, I should be able to get some decent practice in, right?"

“I guess...” Luda said as she looked you over with new found wonder. "Well, one thing I know for certain, he won't know about any sun summoner from me."

Pasha and Polina agreed wholeheartedly, and as you watched the sun, you noticed that it was almost sunset and you realized you should probably get them back home.

"Well, we could always figure the rest of my abilities out at another time, because I think it would be time to return you home. Your mother will probably be worried about where you are."

"Probably, depending on how long we have been away. Can't be more than a couple of hours, right?"

"Who knows," you said as you started packing the basket again, significantly lighter now that nearly all of the food was gone, "I thought the same when I was in your house for the first time, but it almost seems like time is different where you three come from. Though that still doesn't take away that I should probably get you home."

"But I like it here!" Pasha protested, without much success.

"I know, but I think your mother would also be very glad to see you haven't fallen into the hands of the Darkling. And of course you could always come back to this forest."

There was an annoyed huff, but he seemed to settle with your answer.

"And maybe Luda and Polina could practice with their powers here. There's no Darkling here to be afraid of, though you might want to watch out for my uncles gardener. He's not very fond of kids."

The girls laughed, but nodded at your advise and you could sense that Polina would definitely be coming around more on your side of the oak as you watched something spark in her eyes.

"Let's go find your mother, shall we?"

During the walk back to the town you felt tense. Your near encounter with the Darkling coming back to you the closer you got to the town as Pasha skipped back and forth between a few meters in front of you and back. You wondered if you would encounter the Darkling again, having been away for so long. You hoped you wouldn't, not particularly keen on having another run in with a known dictator. Even if the first time had only been from a distance.

You found the house just as the four of you had left it behind, but the eerie silence that hung around it put you on edge.

The crack of every branch under your feet felt like a clap of thunder rolling through the sky as the brightly lit building came closer with every step.

"Don't ask me why, but I am getting a bad feeling here. Something isn't right. Everything is far too quiet."

"You're right."

"Maybe everyone is just asleep," Luda tried hopefully, but it was clear she felt the same uneasiness as her sister.

The curtains in front of the windows were drawn, giving away no sign of life or indicators of distress, and no matter how much you wanted to turn around and run, you couldn't. You needed to make sure these kids would be safe where you dropped them off.

Knocking on the door three times in rapid succession, you motioned for the siblings to seek a hiding place.

There came no answer.

You knocked again as you heard their quiet footsteps disappearing behind you. "Hello? Someone home?"

The other side of the door remained silent. Testing the doorknob, you noticed it wasn't locked. Your insatiable curiosity killed enough of your fears and wariness that you turned it, opening it to reveal the house in a darker state than you ever thought it could be with the lights that were hanging just above the windows.

Then your eyes were drawn to the three people in the living room. One of them was a thinly build man, dressed in what you imagined the crossing between a farmer and a clerk to look like. His baggy blue overalls full of dirt and grass stains hanging over a crinkled plain, black dress shirt over both which hung a brown suit jacket that looked like it was sagging off of his shoulders at its own will.

The other two men were dressed in far finer clothes and despite the fact that you couldn't see any weapons, you knew they were far more dangerous than any person your father and uncle had ever warned you about. The one furthest away from you was dressed in a red that seemed to resemble blood in the low light inside the house. The black embroidery crawling like geometric tendrils over his chest and wrists and seemed to wear his scowl like a permanent feature as he kept staring at the man in front of him.

The other one, who now had his gaze fixed on you, was dressed in a black so deep you thought he was barely real.

"I am so sorry. I- I didn't- I didn't mean to interrupt anything..." you stuttered as you tried to back out of the barely opened door, only to find your legs unwilling to cooperate with you.

"It's alright dear," the thin man said, "please come in." His voice had a strange softness to a heavy hoarse that got right under your skin. He was clearly trying to sound comforting, but the only thing that went through your mind was how you wanted to run.

Yet your legs betrayed you once again as they guided your body into the dark space, carrying you to the middle of the room. You crossed your arms as the two men stared at you. As if they weren't quite sure what to make of you.

"Have you ever been tested?" The man in black asked, his voice deeper, far less hoarse and far steadier than the one opposite of him.

You knew he probably meant for your Grisha abilities, yet the contrarian truth slipped past your lips before you could stop it. "I was tested when I was six, but it turned out I was completely ordinary."

The man hummed and you could feel your heart hammer in your chest as you desperately wanted to get away from the situation, yet your body seemed to have abandoned all obedience to you as you simply shifted your weight from one leg to the other.

“Well I would just like to make certain," the man said a he stood up and despite the little height difference between you, he still managed to tower over you as you suddenly felt very small under his attentions.

The touch of his skin on yours and the power surge that followed was electrifying and you could feel that whatever hid within you, was trying to find its way out. To the one that was calling it.

You tried you best to suppress whatever power was trying to rise to the surface.

You could not let them find out. They could not know. You needed more time. Yet the longer the calling went on, the more you struggled to keep the flow of power under control. When something sharp pierced the skin of your forearm the flow beat out of the few restraints you had on it, finally freely rushing to the surface as you felt nothing but terrified while a sharp sun beam pierced the night.

#the darkling #darkling au #shadow and bone au #narnia #narnia au #shadow and bone #general kirigan #aleksander morozova #aleksander kirigan

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hmm-self-indulgence · 3 years ago

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Nikola Orsinov x Reader

Nikola’s pronouns are either she/her or they/them, also I use It once or twice so please don't be offended. The reader, if ever gendered, is only described as they/them. Kinda spoilers for season 1-3, I don’t bring up the unknownings result but I do mention the dance. Kinda Yandere but what else do you expect from a skin mannequin who murders people. Also im trying to mimic the style of Jonny’s writing in some bits so bear with me while I’m trying. Please let me know if there is something I forgot to tag. Honestly I might delete this bc while i worked on it for a long time in still not super confident in my writing so any and all feedback is appreciated.

TW: Nikola related shenanigans, skin stealing, depersonalization, reader has some self esteem issues, slight violence (not to reader), kinda Yandere content. Also, alliteration. In the end the reader gets murdered, but also not super surprised. Descriptions of slight gore.

No one has the permission to repost this on any website. I will not post these on other websites so if you see any of my writing on another site, let me know. Do not use my content or claim it as your own! I do not own these characters, they are made, owned and are the property of Johnathan Sims. I am in no way profiting off of this and this is made with full respect to Rusty Quill.

The two of you met rather strangely for a couple, not many can say they were hunted by their lover before they dated, but that only made you both closer. She wanted your skin once, but your shifting sense of self and sadness within your own skin spoke to her so she felt sympathetic. You weren’t saved, of course no one can be saved, but you were kept, held by shifting hands that hungered for your skin but left it on you.

You understand she has to change, but the name stays the same with your lover. Always Nikola, always yours, but never the same face for too long or it’s fingers itch to take yours. The voices say to take it, they would return it, give it back once they found a new one, they swear with desperate tones, but Nikola knows the truth. If they wore it it would become a slice of meat, and the flesh has no place near you, so they find another face to wear. It doesn't matter how brutal the removal is or how much it pains the victim, she does it for you.

She knew your sadness ran deeper than you let on, and the problem with skin is one that can be easily fixed in the circus. She offers you different faces but cares little when you refuse, more for her and the changing group of nameless things that follow her. Nikola has lived for over 200 years, and she isn't ready to lose you. Pieces of you had to be made unreal so Nikola could keep you, but she was careful to make sure You stayed You and not Them.

Traveling with the Circus of the Other is strange to say the least. The faceless followers will always leave you alone if they want to continue their existence, and there is a clear understanding that your fear is off the menu. That is not to say you are lonely, no no no. You are friends with them, you don’t know which one because their faces change ever so often and giving them their own names would make the faces useless, so they are all your friends. Friends made of a shifting group of pronouns and skin spread far too thin across what could be mistaken for bone but you are no fool, there has never been bone in them.

When it comes to their ‘performances,” screaming is just as common as laughter. Wooden and flesh bodies thrown in the air by Breeken and caught by Hope, and the occasional tightrope walker that hits the ground with a sickening crunch, leaving blood and body parts on the ground. Nikola hopes you will join in with the Circus, they would love to have you as a second ringmaster. If you refuse then violence is kept away from you, but you still see the bloodstains smeared in the tents and the fresh faces of the members.

You have your uses to their master, too. You don’t fear the Stranger, at least not anymore, but you are useful to inspire fear. In a sea of wrong faces, one that looks almost normal makes the others even more frightening. A taste of hope on their victims faces before they see that glint in your eyes that signals to them that you are just like the faceless ones, just as hungry.

Nikola thinks of you as she dances the world anew, and the performance was one of a lifetime. Every eye was on the unknowing and Nikola reveled the love she felt from the stranger. Your smile was the last thing she thought about in the world as it was.

#nikola orsinov #tma #Tma x reader #the magnus archives x reader #tma fanwork #tma fanfic #the stranger #the circus of the other #the unknowing #nikola orsinov x reader

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bestiesenpai · 4 years ago

Text

youtuber Sukuna

I beg you to read the shitposts I made about this, they are delicious. You don’t have to of course but...if you loved me you would :) s/n = screen name, and I hope you chuckle at Sukunas screen name

Content warning: uhmhm lowkey incel shit(mean internet comments and whatnot)

part two --- part 3

Name: Sukuna. Age: 25. Height: 6 foot 5 inches. Occupation: toxic Youtuber, fitness trainer and hot guy.

Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for being kind. He wasn’t nice to others, rarely having anything good to say about anyone, and he’d made a successful Youtube career out of it. First starting as a fitness trainer at his gym, through encouragement from his clients and the notion of a quick cash grab, he started Youtube.

He didn’t care about it and that reflected in the quality of his videos and editing. He didn’t have consistent uploads, just filming and posting videos whenever he wanted, analytics be fucked. But somehow, that worked out for him, and he quickly found himself with over two million subscribers just frothing at the mouth for his next video.

And those subscribers were some of the worst people. Sukuna didn’t care about fostering a safe space online for others, not in the slightest. His comment sections were atrocious, both on his Youtube and his Instagram. It was full of toxic men one-upping each other constantly and dragging on each other for not being able to work out as much as Sukuna did.

Sukuna was a large part of why his fanbase were so toxic. He himself often made bad comments about others, whether fellow creators or people that happened to appear in the backgrounds of his videos, and on more than one occasion he’d been ‘cancelled’. None of that mattered though, all he cared about was shitting on other people and making money.

Sometimes he played video games and posted it, but not too often. Sukuna often stated he wasn’t so much of a fucking lonely loser that he’d play video games all the time, and so the gaming videos he did post were few and far between. He played angry shooter games and GTA, mindless button clicking he could get lost in for a few hours for a video.

Laying in bed one night after uploading his most recent video, one where he rages at 12 year olds on GTA online, Sukuna was just scrolling through his phone mindlessly. After he uploads video game content, like clockwork, he gets recommendations for gaming channels. He only watches a few of them, mostly leaving mean comments saying what losers they are, but one catches his eye.

He’s never been recommended this kind of video before. The thumbnail is light and bright with some pink aesthetic lights in the back. But the most enticing thing is the person in the middle, cute pink cat ear headphones on and a bright smile.

“Let’s see…” Sukuna mumbles to himself, mindlessly clicking the video. He hasn’t even read the title, he only clicked it because they were cute, and here he is nearly blinded by the bright setup they have.

“Hi everyone, it’s (Y/N) here and I’m really excited today! We’re going to be playing this new game I found!” Sukuna is immediately enraptured by the sound of your voice, watching how your face changes as you talk. His eyes drift off to the decor behind you, cute plushies and healthy plants, and some twinkling fairy lights. There’s books as well, and your chair is one of those ergonomic gamer chairs he has as well but in pink.

Sukuna watches the video dumbly, totally in the dark about whatever you’re doing, but loving it all the same. All he knows is that he likes the sound of your voice, and when you laugh and smile at a funny part in the game, it makes a light flush come to his cheeks.

It only takes one video for Sukuna to spiral into more of your content. He watches a video on your gaming setup, and he’s surprised that so much technology can come in pink. He watches a video on how you edit, a few of you cooking in your kitchen, and even a few vlog videos.

He quickly subscribes to your channel, and when you plug your social media, he immediately goes there. Pulling up your Instagram, he stares at your profile picture and almost audibly coos at you for being cute.

Your profile is just as cute as your videos are and Sukuna barely remembers to follow you before he’s going through your whole feed, liking every picture he sees. Sometimes he leaves comments, only one word though, ‘cute’. He’s never liked something so outright cute before, it wasn’t who he was and it definitely didn’t fit with his brand.

Falling asleep after following you on every platform, Sukuna wakes up thinking about you as well. And he also wakes up to hundreds of comments from all his accounts, bombarding him with questions and screenshots from last night.

‘SUKUNA WHY WOULD YOU LIKE THIS SHIT?!’

‘OMG Sukuna liked (Y/N)s posts!!’

‘Sukuna is so gross and toxic, you better stay away from (Y/N)!’

‘SUKUNA YOU GAY NOW’

‘EW why the fuck do you like this bitch?’

There were hundreds of comments that he waded through. Most were from his fans, expressing disgust at how many photos of yours he’d liked and wondering why he, Sukuna, most heterosexual alpha male on the planet, would like a pretty in pink Youtuber who had bubbly intros and whined when their animal crossing villagers wanted to move away.

Other comments were from your fans, some in awe that he would like you considering how much he said he hated overly cute things. Other fans expressed concern, worried what this might mean for their favorite Youtuber. Did Sukuna want to cause problems, potentially hurting you? He did have a reputation of bullying others, so this wasn’t far fetched.

Checking your Instagram, you didn’t make any comment about it. There wasn’t any update or anything, but on his end he was being tagged in endless Twitter threads with screenshots of him liking your posts and commenting under them.

“For fucks sake.” He grunted, clenching his phone in his hands. The amount of notifications he was getting were starting to upset him and he nearly threw his phone to get them to stop.

Ignoring his phone for the rest of the day, Sukuna went to the gym like he always did and trained with his clients. Some of them brought it up to him, asking him if he had a mind break last night and forgot what he was doing. Sending them harsh glares, Sukuna refused to talk about it.

“Oh my fucking god.” Sukuna nearly wailed when he got home, finally checking his phone. His name and yours had begun trending, and the hashtag #protect(Y/N) was also. Muttering angrily under his breath, Sukuna turned on Instagram live.

“Okay what the fuck!” He shouted, seeing the live become instantly flooded with people all screaming about you and him. “You’re all fucking annoying, you know that?” Glaring harshly at the camera, he read some of the comments that went by.

‘WHY’D YOU LIKE (Y/N)S POSTS FROM 2017’

‘Are you two secretly dating??’

‘COLLAB!’

“Who gives a shit why I liked their stuff, you’re a fucking weirdo for keeping track of me. And we aren’t secretly dating, dipshits.” Rolling his eyes, Sukuna scoffed as more comments came in begging for a collaboration. “And think about it you morons, why would we collab? Our shit is too fucking different, what would we even film about?”

Sukuna stayed on Instagram live for nearly an hour answering questions asking about you. Every time he had to answer that you weren’t secretly dating, he got a little more annoyed. Not at the comments themselves but at the fact that it was true; you didn’t even know he existed.

Ending the live in a huff, Sukuna didn’t feel any better than before, and it was made even worse by the fact that everything he said was being relayed to Twitter, and you were tagged in every tweet.

“These idiots!” Staring at his phone, Sukuna couldn’t believe what he was seeing. On your Instagram stories, you’d posted a q&a for your followers, and nearly all of the comments were about Sukuna.

“Hi everyone! No, me and Sukuna aren’t dating!” You said, laughing a little to ease how uncomfortable you were. “To be honest, I’ve never even heard of him before! As you know, my content is very...different from his, so our circles don’t exactly intersect. But I’m always happy to have new followers and potential friends!”

“Fuck me.” Sukuna groaned, cringing at how uncomfortable you looked having to address the sudden onslaught of questions. For once he wished he’d actually given a shit about his online presence, so that maybe one day your circles could intersect. He knew he scared you, he scared a lot of people, and this was just proof.

“Uh, Sukuna if you see this, hi it’s nice to meet you!” You said in the next slide, puffing out your cheeks and waving cutely at the camera. It made Sukuna blush, and he hated it. “Thank you for following me and liking my content! I was very surprised that you found me!”

“Of course I did, idiot, you’re fucking cute.” He muttered under his breath.

“I know a lot of people are asking for us to do a video together and I know our content is really different, so don’t feel pressured to respond or anything, but the offer is open! If you’d like, we can collab on something.”

“On what?” He asked like you were there.

“I cook sometimes, and I know you cook too! Maybe we can make a cooking video? You can teach me how to make healthy food or something!” Sukuna could tell a fake laugh when he heard one, and you definitely had one right now. “Anyways, thank you! Bye Sukuna!” But hearing you say his name cutely like that made him not care.

He nearly responded right away, accepting the collab offer now that you’d spoken about it, but he didn’t want to seem desperate. He watched through the rest of your Instagram stories, going back and replaying the parts where you talked about him over and over and his heart clenched every time when you said his name.

In the dead of night, Sukuna DM’s you after watching your latest video and leaving the simple comment ‘check your DM’s’.

“Fuck, what should I say?” He’s suddenly stumped as he looks at the keyboard. Typing and retyping a message, in the end all he can say is hi. He doesn’t expect a reply, ever, but when he gets a vibration on his phone two seconds later he jumps to read it.

(S/N): hi Sukuna! :)

(cursedgod): hey

Real fucking smart, repeating what he just said.

(S/N): is there something you wanted to talk to me about?

(S/N): I hope you haven’t been annoyed at all the notifications you’ve been getting!

(cursedgod): No it’s okay

(cursedgod): we can collab if you want

Good Sukuna, good. Play it cool, don’t let them know that your fingers are actually trembling because you’re nervous.

(S/N): do you want to?? I don’t want to pressure you! I know we’re pretty different haha

(cursedgod): yeah, let's do it. Cooking?

(S/N): sure!

Looking around his home, he was suddenly assaulted with the fact that he didn’t have any furniture. He barely had a proper bedroom, just a mattress on a bare frame and a dresser. His lounge room was the same with his computer setup in one corner and then nothing else. There was only a couch, a mounted TV and a fold out table and chairs for his dining room.

(cursedgod): I know a studio kitchen we can use, I’ll send you the address

Thank god he’d done promo work for a brand in a studio one day, otherwise he’d be fucked.

(S/N): awesome! I’m free next Saturday!

And just like that, it was a date. Well, a meeting. Sukuna knew it wasn’t a date, but his heart still thumped like it was one. Confirming the time, he ended the conversation with a curt goodbye and obsessed about it throughout the night.

When the day to meet you came, Sukuna nearly ran late trying to pick out his clothes. He’d never cared about looking good or presenting himself well in front of others, whatever version of him he turned up in was what they got. But for you, he wanted to try a little harder.

Waiting outside the studio space, Sukuna rubbed his hands together nervously. You’d messaged a day or two ago offering to put the video on your channel since it probably wouldn’t fit his aesthetic, so he didn’t have to bring his shitty camera equipment.

“S-sukuna?” Snapping his head up, Sukunas mouth fell open looking at your curious face a few feet away, an Uber driving off behind you. You were even cuter in person, just his fucking luck. How was he expected to act like a normal person when his recent obsession was here looking better than he could have imagined.

“Hi.” What comes out is a grunt, not the smooth word he’d hoped. He can see you eyeing him up, taking in all the thick and corded muscles of his body. It made his chest puff out a little, he worked hard for this physique and to have you so openly looking at him made him happy.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Sticking your hand out, you smiled politely at him.

“Same.” Shaking your hand with a firm grip, Sukuna could feel the difference in your palms. Yours was soft and nicely moisturized and he had callouses everywhere and a few cuts and scrapes.

Opening the door for you, Sukuna led you to the studio space he’d rented out. It was a clean and modern kitchen, not unlike his own, but it had appliances and looked actually lived in. Helping you set up a few camera angles, Sukuna felt a pang of nerves hit him in the stomach.

“Sukuna, can we take a picture together?” You asked before starting, and Sukunas brow furrowed deeply. Why would you want to take a picture with him? His expression must have scared you, because you quickly backtracked. “F-for promo for this video, on Instagram and stuff!”

“Sure.” God, did he feel bad or what. He shouldn’t have made that face at you, now you wouldn’t look him in the eye. Crouching down to get the right angle for you, Sukuna watched you pick a cute animal filter.

“Just do what I do.” Throwing up a peace sign, you cutely tilted your head from side to side and smiled. Sukuna tried to do the same but he looked awkward, and most of all he was blushing pretty bad.

You snapped a multitude of pictures, some at different angles and some with different filters, and in all of them Sukuna was blushing at least a little. He managed to smile more as it went on, even laughing at one of the filters.

“Thanks! I’m going to post these really quick and then we can get started!” Giving him a brief smile, you turned back to your phone and set about editing some of the pictures. Looking over your shoulder, Sukuna could see that he looked like a blushing high schooler meeting their idol for the first time and not a grown man.

Once the photos were posted and you tagged him in everything, it was time to start. Setting up your marks on the floor, you took a generous drink of water and cleared your throat.

“Are you ready for the intro? I’ll start it and introduce you, okay?” You’d actually prepared a script for yourself, and showed Sukuna as well.

“Okay.” Stepping in front of the camera, Sukuna bristled at feeling you so close to him. Your arm brushed his casually as you were fixing your shirt, and Sukuna was glad he’d worn his most expensive cologne for this.

“Hi everyone, welcome to today's video! As you know, I’m (Y/N), and today we have a special guest today!” Throwing your arms in the air, you motioned to Sukuna.

“Hi.” He nodded, barely cracking a smile. He could feel you looking at him like you wanted to say something, but he didn’t look.

“So, many people have been asking for us to do a collaboration and it’s finally here!” Clapping your hands lightly, you rocked on your heels and nudged his shoulder with yours. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?”

“Uh-” The playful nudge you’d given him was enough to make Sukuna short circuit. “I-I-” He suddenly couldn’t remember how to speak. “Rice?”

“Let’s try that again.” You laughed. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” This time, you didn’t nudge him with your shoulder.

“We’re gonna…” the words were on the tip of his tongue, they wanted to come out and be spoken but he couldn’t do it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Nodding reassuringly, you took a deep breath in and out, and Sukuna shakily copied. “One more try?” When he looked at you, Sukuna expected to see a hint of annoyance in your face, but there was none. You were just smiling softly at him, waiting for his answer.

“Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll get it next time.” Stepping away from the camera, Sukuna took a drink of water and cleared his throat. Cracking the bones in his neck, he took a deep breath and came back. “Let’s do it.” No more fucking embarrassments.

“Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” You asked for the third time, slightly swaying your body side to side this time.

“We’re gonna make katsudon today.” Finally, the words he wanted to say came out.

“That’s right! As you can see, Sukuna is really fit!” You immediately hopped in, giving his arm a brief squeeze. “And he knows how to make a ton of healthy meals!”

“Mhmm.”

“So I asked if he could help teach me, and all of you at home, how to make it!” Smiling at the camera, you waited a few seconds before relaxing and turning it off. “Did you like that? We can refilm it if you want.”

“No, it’s okay.” Running a hand through his hair, he pointed to the bag of rice he’d brought. “Let’s get started on this shit.”

Taking fifteen minutes to film the two of you filling up the rice cooker, when it was over, you set about getting aesthetic shots of the other ingredients. Sukuna tried to seem casual off to the side on his phone, but he was really watching you.

Getting started on chopping the ingredients, Sukuna somehow managed to say the things he was supposed to without stuttering too badly. He was amazed that you could make the things he was doing sound so interesting, your narration as you held the camera and tried to do things yourself was impressive to the man that barely knew anything about cameras.

“Sukuna, I need help cutting the meat.” You whined, tapping the meat on the cutting board with a knife. “I don’t remember how you showed me.”

“Here.” Without thinking, Sukuan grabbed your hand with the knife in it and moved it for you. “You just have to move your wrist more, it’s not that hard.” Doing it a few times, when Sukuna felt your chest expand with air against his, that’s when he realized how close the two of you were. “S-sorry.” Immediately jumping back, he stared at the floor.

“Thanks!” Giving him a smile, you kept at it.

“I’ll fry the meat.” Stepping in as soon as you were done, Sukuna already had the hot oil ready. He was eager to cook and do something with his hands instead of - what he felt like - was awkwardly watching you off to the side.

“Okay!” Grabbing the camera, you focused on the pan. “You’re really good at this, Sukuna!”

“T-thanks.” Staring directly at the pan, Sukuna didn’t look away. Even with the hot oil popping up from the pan a few times and burning his fingers, he didn’t flinch at all.

“Ow!” But you did. Your hand had gotten too close, and when Sukuna flipped the meat, some of the oil had gotten on your hand.

“Shit.” Abandoning the pan, Sukuna was ready to drag you over to the sink for some cool water.

“I-it’s okay, it was only a little.” Shaking your stinging hand, you point to the food. “But I think the meat might burn.”

“Shit!”

Narrowly avoiding disaster with the meat, when it came time to cook the eggs, you made a joke about how you liked your eggs in the morning and Sukuna burnt them almost immediately. While not an overtly sexual comment, the implications of the words still affected him.

Somehow, he managed to make the dish come together and while his plated dish didn’t come out the best, yours looked at least halfway decent with overcooked meat and burnt eggs. The only things not messed up were the rice and vegetables, and even then Sukuna was surprised.

“We did it everyone, we made katsudon!” Holding up the bowls, you smiled big and nudged Sukunas shoulder again. “You saw we had a few mishaps along the way, but that’s okay, that’s what made it fun.”

“Yeah, it was fun.” Sukuna chuckled. Despite him being more nervous than he’d ever thought possible, he had fun cooking alongside you.

“Sukuna, will you try mine? I made it super pretty and everything.” Holding your dish up to him, Sukuna wasn’t expecting you to do that. Now he felt bad that his looked so ugly and like a teenaged boy made it; he almost said no.

Eating yours though, somehow it tasted better than he was expecting. It must have been how you prepared it, and the fact that you cared so much about the presentation. Eating it in silence, he let you eat in peace as well for a few minutes and compliment the food to the camera.

“Alright, that’s the end of the video!” Putting your bowl down, you turned to Sukuna. “I had so much fun today, thanks for filming this with me.” Now was his chance to make everything better. Putting his bowl down and bolstering himself with confidence, Sukuna threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you close to him.

“Thank you (Y/N), I really did enjoy today. I hope we can film again soon!” He squeezed your shoulder and smiled really big at not only you but the camera as well. He knew he was blushing, he knew that even the tip of his nose was a nice rosy shade, but he didn’t care. If people teased him for it, then so be it. But he wanted you to know how he truly felt.

“R-really? You want to?” You asked, looking up at Sukuna from your place smooshed against his body.

“Really.”

“Aww, well you heard it here first everyone! Sukuna wants to shoot another video with me!” Clapping your hands a few times, you waved at the camera. “Okay, bye everyone!”

“Bye.” Sukuna waved too, waiting a few seconds before letting you go and turning off the camera.

“Sukuna, did you really mean it? You want to film another video with me?” You were in utter disbelief. All this time, he’d just seemed very standoffish, if not a little awkward around you. You were happy to film this video with him, he had way more followers than you and it would help boost both your channels, and to hear him say that just made it even better.

“Yeah, I was serious.” Sukuna spoke around stuffing his mouth with the food he still had left. He was more hungry than he thought, the nerves doing a good job of twisting his stomach during the video. Now that it’s over, he can finally relax.

“That makes me really happy.” Eating the rest of your food as well, you leant against the counter. “This is gonna sound kind of mean, but I was really scared to film with you today. I thought you were going to be really mean.”

“Shit, you did?” He grimaced, letting out a sigh. “Sorry I had you worried.” He could already imagine the comments you would get from his fans.

“It’s okay! You’re actually way nicer in person, I was surprised!”

“That’s good.”

“And you’re really buff, you have muscles in places I didn’t even know were possible!” You laughed bashfully at that comment, and avoided looking at him when he stared at you in shock. “I couldn’t help but notice…”

Were you checking him out? Had you been checking him out this whole time and he didn’t even realize? He had seen you eyeing him up when you first met, but were you looking at him like that at other times as well? Now he’d really have to watch your video to see if it was true.

“Thanks, it’s my job.” Could he have said that any lamer? “My job outside of all this, I mean. I’m a trainer at this fancy gym downtown.”

“Oh, I’ve seen some of your videos at your gym! I know which one you’re talking about.”

“You do? You’ve seen my videos?” If he wasn’t surprised before, he was now.

“Yeah, you know I had to do a little research beforehand.” You nodded, beginning to clean up the dishes around you. “And I know you’ve already watched almost all of my videos, so it only seemed fair.”

Did you have to bring that up? Now Sukuna was embarrassed again.

“Y-yeah, I did.” Clearing his throat, Sukuna helped gather the dishes. He took up washing them, another task he could do to get his mind off you. As you took down the camera equipment, he nearly broke several dishes and utensils from scrubbing too hard.

“I’ll call you an Uber.” He said when all was said and done and you were back at the front of the building.

“You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

“No, I want to.” Quickly calling you a ride, Sukuna fiddled with his phone a little more. “Uh, could I- could I-” His voice kept leaving him, and he had to cough a few times. “Can I get your number? I really liked your camera shit and I want to improve mine.” Okay, it wasn’t a total lie. He did like your setup and wanted to make his just as good, but he really wanted your number to potentially talk to you more about things outside of Youtube.

“Sure! Go ahead and type it in.” You were quick to give him your phone, a cute pink phone case on the back of it. Typing it in, he can’t help but notice the little devil emoji you add by his name. He wants to ask, but your ride is already pulling up.

“Bye!” Setting all your camera gear inside the car, you turn and wave goodbye.

“See ya.” Just as you’re about to close the car door, Sukuna gets a burst of confidence. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay!” And off you go. Sukuna watches the car drive off until he can’t see it anymore. He takes his time getting to his own place, eagerly awaiting your message with every step. But even when you do message him, all he can do is send a thumbs up back and nothing else.

It’s about two and a half days after that that you text him again, letting him know you’re done editing and that you’re going to post the video soon. It wasn’t a very long video to begin with, so the editing was simple enough. Sukuna replied with what appeared to be a lackluster ‘can’t wait’, but on the inside he was shaking. He’d already screenshot all the pictures the two of you took together and added them to a folder.

“Here we go.” As soon as the video went live, Sukuna watched it. He was mortified as soon as it started at the blush so evident on his cheeks, and how it stayed throughout the whole thing. He groaned at the part where he helped you cut up the meat, he almost wishes you’d cut it out. Every little detail that made him embarrassed was there, every little nuance of his actions you’d managed to capture and make it cute.

(Y/N): How do you like it??

You texted him after twenty minutes, eager to hear his thoughts.

(Sukuna): it’s good, good editing and stuff

(Y/N): yay! I’m going to read comments in a few hours, you should too! I bet people will be really shocked!

(Sukuna): yeah no doubt

Oh, he was definitely going to read the comments. Whereas you were going to wait for a fair few to come in before commenting, Sukuna frequently refreshed the page and read the new ones as they came in. You were right, a lot of people were surprised, but he also saw a lot of his fans as well.

‘Ew Sukuna really cooked for that bitch? They can’t do it themselves?’

‘Yeah, why do they have to rely on him? Useless as fuck lol’

‘Sukuna only did this to get laid, (Y/N) looks like an easy fuck’

All of those comments, and many more, made his blood boil. Usually, he wouldn’t care at all about the comments, letting them fester in his comment section and spiral out of control. But for you, it was different.

‘Fuck off and die you pieces of shit. Leave (Y/N) alone or say it to my fucking face’

Sukuna sent that message, along with a variety of other threats, to all the people that insulted you. He didn’t care that this wasn’t his channel and that you would deal with it in whatever way you wanted to. He needed to defend you against the unwanted audience he’d brought you.

Luckily, after seeing Sukunas messages, all of his fans backed off. They knew how serious he was about his threats and there were many rumors that he actually did go and beat people up who said things he didn’t like. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his torment.

With Sukunas name attached to the video and his heavy presence in the comment section, the video easily went viral. It was easily the most viewed video on your channel, getting on the trending pages of several different platforms.

(Sukuna): hey

It’s nearly a week after the first video that Sukuna messages you, and the hype is still going strong, and your follower count grows greatly from it.

(Y/N): hi! What’s up?

(Sukuna): do you want to film a video for my channel now? We can play a game, I have a few

(Y/N): sure that sounds fun!

Oh how wrong you were. The game Sukuna chose was a scary game, a shooter game with scary zombies and a lot of possible jumpscares. He doesn’t tell you either, so on the night of filming - he insisted on it being nighttime to get the full scary effect - you were caught off guard.

“I don’t know about this.” You whined once you saw the title. The two of you were video calling alongside playing the game together, and Sukuna’s eyes flicked to your figure on the screen.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll carry you, don’t worry.” He had started filming as soon as he’d set up the game, and you were filming yourself as well for him.

“You promise it won’t be too scary?”

“If it’s too scary just close your eyes and I’ll protect you.” Smiling softly at you, he started up the game. The beginning was fine, just a quick introduction to the game, but as soon as things started to get moving, you were scared.

“Sukuna a zombie is eating me!” You screamed, frantically pushing buttons in an attempt to get it off.

“It’s okay!” He quickly got rid of it, and made sure to stay close to your character as the story progressed.

“(Y/N) stay by me, there’s about to be a whole lot of them.”

“Close your eyes there’s about to be a jump scare here.”

“Don’t worry about getting that item, I’ll grab it for you!”

Sukuna nearly forgot he was being filmed, saying sweet things to you to help encourage you and make sure you weren’t overwhelmed. There were many parts where you screamed in fright and Sukuna was there to coo at you and tell you it was okay. He made sure that your character never died, making sure to keep you close until the end of the game.

“Sukuna, that was so hard!” Squishing your cheeks in your hands, you looked at him through your phone.

“It was fun though, wasn’t it? I had fun with you.” Completely abandoning the game, he stared down at his phone with a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, when there weren’t so many zombies.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and it made him laugh. Leaning his head into his hand, Sukuna grinned when you yawned.

“Aw, are you tired? Better go to sleep soon.” His voice dropped to a lower volume, like you were right next to him.

“I will.” You yawned again and it made Sukuna yawn as well.

“Get off the phone and go to bed, you’re making me tired too.”

“Fine.” Whining out the word, you waved sleepily. “Goodnight Sukuna, I’ll send you the video files in the morning, okay?”

“Night.” Waving back, Sukuna waited until you hung up to turn his stuff off as well.

In the morning, Sukuna was ready to edit. What usually took him a week to edit out of laziness, he took only a day to edit this video with you together. Rewatching the footage, he nearly gagged at seeing how soft his face got when he looked at you, and most of those parts were left in because he couldn’t stand to watch them and fix them.

(Sukuna): videos up

The next day, he messaged you. Once again Sukuna patrolled the comments, swiftly deleting any that said even a hint of a bad thing about you. There was less this time, what with Sukuna adding a warning at the beginning of the video threatening anyone that talked down at you.

This video, like the first, went viral. But for a much different reason. Since Sukuna was emotionally unable to deal with how sappy he was and edit those parts out, everyone got to see how soft he was for you. If the comments weren’t mean, they were screaming about how you and Sukuna must be dating now, because why else would he look at you and talk to you like that?

And much to Sukuna’s dismay, there were also fancam edits of you two together. Any clippable moment of him being sweet on you in the videos you’d made together along with the photos you’d posted on Instagram were edited together and posted on Twitter. You both were tagged in every single one, making sure Sukuna saw all the videos of you and him together. He saved all of them too, delighting in the way you looked with him with all those pretty filters.

By the end of the day, people were trying to put a ship name together for the two of you and he’s seen you repost a few fancams with cute messages of thanks as well. Seeing you receptive to the fans screaming about the two of you made him happy, even if he was still too nervous to text you about anything outside of Youtube.

As more comments came in, people on Twitter were begging him to do a vlog with you. You had quite a few on your channel, going to cafes or filming what your day or week was like. Sukuna had watched them all and was jealous of every single person that appeared alongside you.

(Y/N): hey I’m doing a live on Instagram if you want to join me! I know people really like us together lol it’ll be great for views

(Sukuna): sure

Did you want him to join now? He’d just gotten out of the shower and thrown on a pair of sweats, he wasn’t exactly decent. But he didn’t want to waste time getting ready only for you to end the live.

“Hi Sukuna!” You smiled and waved when he appeared on the screen.

“Hey.” He waved back, not caring about the angle he was holding the camera in. He saw hearts begin to fill up the screen and comments started to fly by, almost all in caps about the fact he was shirtless talking to you.

“Guys, don’t be weird! Who cares that Sukuna is shirtless?” You tried to stop them, but it was clear you were flustered as well. You weren’t looking at him, peeking at him through the screen a few times.

“God you’re all thirsty as fuck.” Sukuna finally looked at himself on the screen. He was shirtless and in bed, hair slightly damp and tousled on his pillow. Reading a few comments, he shot up. “Of course I’m wearing pants, you nasty fuck!” Storming out of bed, he stood in front of the only mirror in his house that wasn’t in the bathroom and turned the camera around. “See, look!”

“Oh.” Gasping softly, you were glad Sukuna didn’t notice you screenshot the live. Clad in only gray sweatpants, Sukuna’s freshly cleaned skin gleamed in the light of his bedroom and every single muscle and edge of his body was on display.

“There, told you I wasn’t fucking naked.” Rolling his eyes, he flopped back down on the bed. None of the comments had gotten any better, all of them talking about how hot he was and how you were so lucky to know him in real life.

“L-let's talk about something else.” You stammered, not showing your face on camera for a few minutes. Sukuna laughed at the comments teasing you for being embarrassed, agreeing with some of them under his breath.

“So, what the fuck are you all doing here?” Sukuna posed the question at the chat, but at you as well.

“Well before you came everyone was talking about you...and you know how everyone has been begging for us to vlog?” You started off slowly, peeking an eye at his face.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to call you to ask how you felt about that?” How he felt? Why did you want to know?

“You couldn’t have texted me that?” That wasn’t necessarily what he wanted to say, but it made you chuckle, so it was okay.

“No! I wanted to ask so everyone could know!”

“I don’t mind it.” If you wanted to vlog with him, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“So…” Worrying your lip, you looked off camera for a few seconds before looking directly at Sukuna. “Would you like to be in a vlog with me, at a cafe? It’s outside the city, kind of far, but we can rent a car or-”

“Yes.” Sukuna interrupted, nodding his head quickly. “I’ll come. We don’t have to rent a car, I’ll drive.”

“Really?” The comments were just as shocked as you were. Sukuna never filmed anywhere but his home and the gym, this would be a monumental occasion.

“Did you want me to say no?”

“No!” You screamed immediately, nearly dropping your phone. “I just- I wasn’t expecting you to say yes!”

“Well I did.” Sukuna bit his lip, running a hand through his hair and flexing his arm. “So I guess it’s a date, huh?” His normal asshole confidence was back now that you were appearing through a screen and not right next to him. A surprised sound came from the back of your throat, and you nearly dropped the phone again.

“Y-yeah! A date!” It felt good to have you flustered for once and not Sukuna. Laughing heartily at you, Sukuna smirked at the comments.

“Was that all you wanted to ask me or was there something more?”

“No, that was it!”

“Alright.” Licking his lip and letting his tongue hang out of his mouth a little, Sukuna watched you bite your lip as well. “Well I’m gonna go, I got stuff to do, but I’ll text you later (Y/N).” Dropping his voice as he said goodbye, Sukuna left the livestream.

“Holy fuck.” As soon as his phone was off, Sukuna let out a breath he’d been holding in. His heart was pounding hard despite how confident he was in his actions. Flirting was nothing new to him, but with you it felt different and like he’d never done it before in his life.

He watched the rest of your livestream while he finished getting ready for bed, laughing at the comments still teasing you about getting flustered with him. The notifications for Twitter were going off as well, and he knew for sure that there were new fancams for him to check out later.

(Y/N): Sukuna!! You’re so embarrassing!

Texting him after your stream, your cheeks were still burning at the memory.

(Sukuna): hey, you said it would be good for views and it was

(Y/N): I know…

(Y/N): did you really mean it, about coming with me?

(Sukuna): of course. If I didn’t want to I would have said no

(Y/N): that’s good lol!

There was a lull in conversation, and Sukuna nearly fell asleep waiting for you to either text him again or for him to figure out what to say next.

(Y/N): so, a date huh? Are you going to bring me flowers?

Now he was awake. He didn’t expect you to bring that up again, and his eyes flew open. Sukuna’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, mind going blank on what to say.

(Y/N): lol just kidding! I know you only said that for the stream! I’ll text you later about the details, I’m about to knock out

(Y/N): goodnight :)

Well shit. Now he definitely wanted it to be a date.

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

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echoghost1 · 3 years ago

Text

What's In A Name

okay, this took me longer than I expected... but here is the fic based on this post

Title: What's In A Name

Summary: Danny thought that having a sub in class would make things easier. Unfortunately, this leads to everyone finding out that his first name isn't Daniel.

His class isn't taking the news very well.

word count: 1670

you can read it on AO3 or down below the cut!

Oh, and I guess I'll tag the people from that post: @spookberry @shinygoldstar

Danny had just gotten to school and was getting his supplies for first period when Tucker ran up with way more excitement for this early in the morning.

“Dude, you’re never going to believe it!”

“Believe what?” Danny asked with an amused grin.

“Lancer took a sick day since the first time in forever!”

Danny felt like he was missing something.

Tucker rolled his eyes when Danny didn’t react correctly, “Subs, man. We have subs.”

“In all of his classes?” Danny asked as the news finally sunk in.

“Yup.” Tucker said with confidence as he popped the ‘p’.

“I have so many classes with him.”

“I know dude, me too!” He wrapped his arm around Danny’s shoulder, “Which means that today is going to be a breeze.”

Danny smiled and couldn’t help getting excited about a nice easy day at school.

================================================

His first class was easy.

The sub seemed just as tired as they were and simply checked that they were in their assigned seats and handed out a worksheet for them to do.

Once the teacher made it clear that they didn’t care if they worked together or not, it turned into more of a hang-out session than actually getting much work done.

================================================

His second period was science which he didn’t have with Mr. Lancer so he actually had to pay attention.

It was a lab day and he was still banned for life from handling all fragile school property, so the lab they had was a bit difficult until the teacher remembered (was reminded) and let him team up with Mikey.

All he had to do was take notes on what was happening. Which was fine. He could do that no problem.

All Mikey asked was for his handwriting to be legible.

================================================

It was his third class that ruined everything. It had all been going so well until then.

The teacher had decided to ignore the seating chart list and did roll by reading off the class roster list on the computer. Which in theory would be fine, except that the computer list didn’t have the notes that Mr. Lancer had added over the year, things like nicknames for instance.

It would have been fine if she had called him Daniel. It would have reminded him of Vlad, which would have been annoying, but manageable.

Unfortunately his first name isn’t Daniel.

“Johnathan?”

Everyone perked up at the name. They looked around, confusion evident on all of their faces. There was no Johnathan in this class. No John or Johnny’s. Was this a secret classmate? It couldn’t be, all the seats were full and no one here was Johnathan.

The teacher sighed and tried again, “Johnathan Fenton?”

Danny perked up and raised his hand, “Here. Sorry. I just um, everyone calls me Danny. Or Daniel, or just Fenton.” he realized he had been rambling and apologized again.

He looked down at his desk still embarrassed that he sort of forgot his own first name for a second. Then he felt like he was being watched.

He looked up and realized everyone, but Tucker, who was too busy chuckling to himself, was staring at him with varying degrees of confusion and anger. Sam included.

The class said nothing. Only stared for the remainder of the roll call.

Once the teacher was finished, and before they could truly start class, Dash was the first to break the silent tension. “Your name is Johnathan?!”

“Yes?” Danny answered hesitantly as he leaned away from the angry jock. Normally Dash wasn’t much of a threat anymore after all the ghost hunting, but he couldn’t exactly use his powers in the middle of class.

“Since when?!”

“Birth?”

“No!” Dash countered.

“Look, I’m named after my dad and it’s too confusing if we both go by the same name, so we just use my middle name instead.”

“But your dad’s name is Jack.”

“Which is short for Johnathan,” Danny explained with a sigh.

Dash sputtered in confused annoyance. Apparently, he didn’t know that either.

Before he could get too angry about his lack of knowledge, the teacher made it clear that they were going to start class now.

Dash glared at Danny and pointed an accusatory finger at him, “I don’t believe you, Fenton.”

“Okay?” Danny shrugged it off and the rest of the class went back to ignoring him.

Except for Sam.

She was still glaring at him.

“What?” Danny mouthed not a hundred percent sure as to what his gothic friend was upset about.

She flipped open her notebook hard enough for the paper cover to slap against the desk and furiously scribbled something down before tearing out the page and quickly folding it like a ninja star and chucking it at his head.

He carefully unfolded the note and read it.

“Are you serious?! Is this some elaborate prank?”

Danny looked up to Sam in surprise and then back to the note.

“No really. That is my name.” he wrote before trying his best to fold the note back up as she had it. He really wasn’t as good at it as she was.

She wrote her response quickly and made a point to get the creases of the folds just right. “Then why is Tucker laughing?”

“I don’t know? I’m not a mind reader Sam.”

“Did he know?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He didn’t really understand why she was so upset by this. It didn’t really matter. Did it? “I wasn’t keeping it a secret. I just forgot.”

“Forgot what? That it was your name or that I didn’t know?”

He hesitated too long and Tucker finally snatched the note from him and read it over before snickering to himself and added his own two cents before tossing it back to Sam.

Finally, Sam smiled. With a roll of her eyes, she slipped the note into the pocket of her notebook and went to doodling like nothing was wrong.

Danny wasn’t really sure what that was all about, but he was glad it was over.

================================================

The rest of the day was mostly fine. His friends teased him about his full name occasionally throughout the day, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Dash kept giving him the stink eye, which was weird, but better than being shoved into his own locker.

Lunch was a bit of a disaster once Tucker let out his inner bookie and started holding bets on what Danny’s real name was.

There were three options.

One was that his name was really Daniel and he was just pranking everyone somehow.

The second was that his name really was Johnathan and he was telling the truth because Fenton can’t tell a lie to save his life.

While the third was that he had a completely different name and may or may not be related to the Fenton’s at all.

Danny wasn’t sure if he should be finding all of this hilarious or just plain annoying. Maybe it was one of those, ‘we’ll laugh about it when we’re older’ things?

Of course, word spread fast and everyone was trying to figure out what the real answer was. No one was asking Danny, because they weren’t sure if he actually was a reliable source. Tucker refused to give the answer until the end of the day when he would reveal the winners. And Sam admitted that all of the name nonsense was news to her, but since she loved chaos, she would wink and add, “But it could be true.”

Danny realized too late that the only other person to ask before the end of the day was his sister.

Before he could get to her, someone else beat him to it.

Dash had cornered her just outside of the library and asked, “What’s your brother’s name,” without any preamble.

Of course, Jazz, being two years older than them and in none of their classes, had no idea what had been going on. So she answered the question as best she could despite the confusion, “Danny?”

“Ha! I knew he was a liar!” Dash boasted as he turned around and punched his fist into his open palm as he eyed Danny.

“Wait!” He called out to Dash before turning his attention to his sister, “He means my first name!”

“Oh,” she turned to Dash, “Why didn’t you just say that?”

Dash’s shoulders slumped in defeat, “his name isn’t Danny?”

“His middle name is, but not his first name.” she turned back to Danny, “Didn’t you explain it?”

“Of course I did! He just didn’t believe me! And now the whole school is losing their minds because they think this is some crazy prank or that I’m a liar or something.”

Danny sighed and composed himself before giving the warning as he had meant to, “Tucker is taking bets on what my name is so other people might ask you about it too.”

Jazz hummed thoughtfully to herself while nodding, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You are going to tell them the truth right?”

“Of course,” she said but she still had that far-off look in her eye.

Danny figured he would probably regret asking, but he was just too curious, “what are you thinking about?”

“This is very interesting from a psychological perspective, don’t you think?”

“How?”

“Well by learning that what they assumed to be true, wasn’t, it has shifted their perspective on things.”

“Do you really think it’s that deep?”

“What do you think it is then?” she asked, not annoyed that her theory was being questioned, just curious.

“I think people just like drama.”

“Perhaps.” she said as she watched a dejected Dash walk away, “and maybe it’s a bit of both.”

“Whatever it is I hope it goes away tomorrow.” he walked away and wondered if this was a preview as to what would happen if his secret got out.

He stopped in his tracks with a sigh. No, if they found out he was really Danny Phantom it would be worse. So much worse.

#Danny Phantom #fan fic #my writing #inspired by another post #silly head canon

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clarawatson · 3 years ago

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It Only Takes a Taste

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded stuff, but I’m not sure where this is going as a larger work so we’ll say Fem!reader to be safe) Summary: You work at a diner. Aaron Hotchner falls in love with you. We’re not kidding around trying to make us all sound like profilers, just accept the diner life, we love it here. W/C: 1498 Warnings: none yet! A/N: First chapter of that diner!au i was talking about here! AO3 ps. I forgot to tag people, so: @willowrose99 & @genevievedarcygranger my beloveds. If you want to get added to the tag list jump in my inbox and i’ll try to remember to add tags every time i post. Where am I in this series? 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

When you first meet him it’s 5am and raining. You’re switching over shifts for your friend, Rita, because she’s been doing night shifts at the diner. This late into her pregnancy she shouldn’t be working, not technically, but she needs the money and she’s got insomnia because of the baby, so she works nights now. There’s always someone working with her, be it Joe (who’s got far too much muscle for a chef) or Lola (who can beat anyone to a pulp with a pie tray). In the early hours of the morning a bunch of tatt’ed bikies come and sit and talk about their extracurricular activities (definitely not legal) because one time there was an armed hold up and the police didn’t turn up until two hours after it had happened. People don’t like holding up a diner full of men who eat their own motorbikes for breakfast.

But when he comes in, he’s not any of them. He’s not even one of Lola’s nightly hook-ups (she needs the money, you don’t ask). He’s too well dressed in a grey suit (or is it black? Maybe it’s black), trying desperately to shove his I.D. badge in his pocket. He has a look about him that says ‘I’m part of one of the alphabet soup agencies’. A smile on his face, dead in the eyes, and the weight of the world on his shoulders. He fumbles with his wallet as he squints to read the menu behind the counter. The rain’s stopped dripping from his hair, instead he’s got droplets like his woken with the morning dew upon him.

“Hi love,” Rita coos as she hangs her apron up. She has a look about her that says she’ll eat this man for her breakfast. It’s an effort not to curse those pregnancy hormones some days.

“Go home,” you tell her, swatting her arm. “Put your feet up, rest, sleep while the baby does or some shit.” Rita sticks her bottom lip out and pouts, but she’s making grabby hands for her purse, which is stored where the tea towels used to be. Far too high to reach even when one’s not pregnant. You grab it down for her, ignoring the showering of thank-yous.

The new guy (who is getting more and more handsome by the second) is still looking at the menu. He doesn’t look like he’s going to stop looking and order any time soon.

“Are you sure you’re fine to take the metro in this weather?” you check. She’s rubbing her swollen belly and looking longingly at the booths that haven’t had anyone sit in them for hours now.

“Wait forty-five minutes and I’ll take you!” Joe yells. He’s slaving over something in the kitchen even though it looks like no one’s ordered in hours. “Wife gave me the car ‘cause of the storm!”

“Forty-five,” you repeat and point her towards the seat that she’s been eyeing off. Rita sighs, nods, then goes out to the seat. “What can I get you?” Usually when addressing the customer you’d add something gentle like ‘sweetheart’ or ‘love’ or ‘dear’ because the customers like it and they come back because they think you’re treating them like a long lost friend.

He bats his dark eyelashes and rubs at his forehead.

“I don’t know.” He sounds tired, balancing on the very edge of exhaustion. He might just fall off into a pit of sleep that he won’t wake up from. Been there, done that. “Do you guys do coffee?”

You laugh and point to the brewed pot beside you. There’s one for each table, free refills with a pie purchase. It’s written in decorative lettering right above you on the blackboard.

“We can put it in a take-away cup. It’s before six so it’s free anyway,” you offer. The last bits a lie, but Joe doesn’t care about a cup or two of coffee going missing. He’ll catch it up later when he flirts with all of the mom’s coming through after school drop off. The new guy nods and pulls out a ten dollar note and shoves it in the tip jar. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he nods anyway. He’s like a broken bobblehead.

“I know.” He goes to the sweets display and searches through it like he’s looking for something specific. Maybe he is. You’ve not seen him in the diner before, and neither has Rita, but maybe he’s one of Lola’s regulars. Maybe you’d judged him wrong.

“Anything caught your eye?” you ask, leaning over the counter as if you could see it from his angle too. Maybe you do it to show off just that little bit of cleavage. He notices, then looks like he’s done entirely the wrong thing as he licks his lips and blinks like a school boy.

“S-sorry,” he stammers, and Rita giggles. You point at her and give her a stern look, but she just puts her hand over her mouth and lies down on the seat. She’s still silently giggling because her belly keeps bobbing above the table.

“I just…” he has that exhausted look on his face again.

“Long day at work?” The answer is always yes for the people who work at the alphabet agencies. He nods. “Take a seat, grab some coffee, take a minute. It’s only just gone five, you’ve got time.”

He nods. He looks like he’s gotten his words all mixed up and they’re just sitting in his mouth, refusing to leave. Tongue tied doesn’t exactly encapsulate what looks like is going on inside his head. He sits at one of the chairs in front on the counter, and takes the coffee cup gratefully as you pass it to him.

He’s definitely an alphabet soup man. He sits in this weird stance like he’s countering his weight against a gun. His shoulders are hunched forward as if he spends hours a day doing paperwork. He’s got a nervous twitch in his hands like sitting still is only going to bring the next case.

You think about making a joke about turning on the cellphone jammer, but last time Joe made that joke the whole place ended up swarming with cops. Absolute disaster. No one’s going to do that one again.

“Cherry, berry or apple?” you ask, grabbing a plate.

“Sorry?”

“Cherry, berry or apple?” Rita repeats from her booth. “For the pie, sweetheart.”

“Uh, I didn’t—“

“Eat it,” Rita growled. You pull a face at her even though she can’t see you. The guy smiles.

“Apple, please.” Well mannered. Sweet. He looks elated as you slide the apple pie to him and hand him the canned cream.

“Not as good as fresh, but it’s better than nothing.”

He puts a generous amount on his plate. You half think he might like it more than proper cream. Rita leans up just enough to look at him as he digs in, fanning herself playfully before sighing and collapsing back down.

Joe brings out his tray of caramel salted cookies. They’re thick enough to look like cakes with a gooey caramel center, and they usually sell out pretty quickly. The new guy watches them intently.

“How much trouble am I going to get into if I give those to my son?”

“How old is he?”

“Ten.”

You smile. That’s a good age. “How much do you hate his teacher?”

He considers this with a gentle tilt of his head. “Not a lot. I’ll give it to him after school.” He pulls out his wallet again and Joe looks like he’s just hit the mother lode as he grabs one of the cardboard boxes.

“If you really want to spoil your kid, y/n here can write really pretty on top.” You glare at Joe. He shrugs. He’s covered in cake batter and cookie dough, and smells like pancake batter. He’s always smelling sickly sweet, and like a well lived in home, despite looking like the living embodiment of Gaston. “She does it for my wife all the time.”

The handsome man’s phone buzzes. He checks it, then shovels the rest of his pie in his mouth like a starved man.

“I have to go,” he says. He gives Joe another ten and tells him to keep the change. Joe looks like he’s about to break into a song and dance. You pour a fresh cup of coffee into a take-away cup and slide it across the counter to him. He thanks you a thousand times over then goes. With his cookie.

“Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Rita screeches the moment the door shut with it’s little jingle. “I’ll-show-him-my-cleavage-but-I-won’t-ask-his-name?? No wonder you can’t get a date!”

“I’ll do it next time.” Not that there’s ever a ‘next time’ for these alphabet soup agents. They’re always looking for the next place to go to so they don’t have a ‘regular place’ that can be ambushed.

But in a perfect world... you’d see him every day.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female!reader #Diner!AU #It Only Takes a Taste

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