#THE FIC IS FINALLY OUT WOOOOOOOO | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taexoxosgf · 9 months

Text

DO IT AGAIN

PAIRING brother’s best friend!park jisung x fem!reader

WORDS 3.7k

SYNOPSIS your brother’s best friend can never get you alone. that’s why he won’t miss an opportunity— even if your brother’s on the other side of the walls.

WARNINGS reader is tyong’s sister, jealousy, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

NOTES this smut is actually from a super long fic i posted on my old account! i’m not sure if i’m gonna post the whole thing because i’m cringing rereading it lol

“So, how’s your big bro’s parties? It’s better than frat parties huh?” Taeyong dangles the red cup charged with alcohol in front of your face just for you to swat away in annoyance. “No musty bathrooms and paint peeling off the walls! Woooooooo!”

You’re going to have to have a jolly time cleaning his vomit in the morning. “Stop drinking you little shit. I’m not gonna take care of you tomorrow, just so you know.”

He does a little dance that has you suppressing a laugh, “The night is still young! Loosen up a little! Won’t stop until you’re having as much fun as me!” Your brother is so out of it, that he bumps into a million corners of the home and an attendee urges him to the couch.

“Actually… I’m not feeling so good,” he shushes the person helping before running out of the main room.

“Oh my god,” you pinch the sides of your nose bridge, unable to understand how Taeyong’s motto is always all or nothing.

You're nothing near Taeyong's level of intoxication, and whether it's the devil on your shoulder or the drink, you want Jisung. Excruciatingly so. Whoever claimed that drinking made you act like a bitch in heat wasn't kidding. It's more than true now that you know he's nearby– wanting to look for Jisung because if he wasn't going to make a move tonight, you would.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice calls you, prompting you to turn around.

“Hyuck? Oh my god! How are you?” you’re already bringing your arms out for a hug and he’s quick to immediately accept.

You both went to high school together before he left for university thousands of miles away. He still texts you now and then, but due to the time difference, you never had the opportunity to properly catch up.

“Not doing too bad. It’s so good to finally talk face-to-face babe, holy shit,” he chuckles.

“How’s the East Coast? Did you find a girlfriend at Columbia yet?”

“Nah, you know me. Girls there are way too preppy for me. Plus, I can’t stand another minute of freshmen thinking they’re living through Gossip Girl,” he pretends to gag, swaying his body from side to side.

“Hey! Don’t hate. That show was ahead of its time,” you comment, brows raised.

“It IS! But I’m talking about the people acting as if they were a part of the show themselves. Like come on, you were probably five when it came out!” he exclaims.

"Fair enough," you nod. "You know who you should go for?" an idea flashes across your mind as you speak.

“Who?” he shifts closer, genuinely curious.

You wave towards you as another way of telling him to step even closer and cup your hand behind his ear before whispering, “Yuna.”

“What?! There’s no way!” he steps away, not expecting you would say your best friend’s name.

“Come on! You guys would look so hot together! What’s so ‘no way’ about that idea?”

Your old friend momentarily pauses, like he didn’t know what kind of question you asked. “She’d never go for me.”

“What? She used to have a crush on you! You were always around different girls so she never made a move,” you affirm. “You know how she was in high school,” you remind him of the girl who was once afraid to step out of her comfort zone.

“Are you serious? There’s no way that’s true! You’re straight up lying to my face right now,” he groans, looking as if he was going through a mental crisis due to the news.

“I swear on my Loubitons that it’s true! Just talk to her,” you point to the back door. “She’s in the backyard. I’m sure she would love to catch up.”

He brings a hand to his chin, soothingly rubbing with his index, “You do love those shoes…”

“More than myself, so come on! The times ticking!” you press him further, and his eyes light up when he realizes the words you’re feeding him might actually be true.

“You know what, fuck it.”

“That’s what I like to hear! Acting like a true alpha male!” you jump up and down, probably with more excitement than he has.

He chuckles at your words, “Okay. Okay. Let’s hang out and catch up this week. Let me know when you’re free.”

“Okay now go!” you try not to hold him back longer than he needs to be.

“I”m go-”

Before you can properly bid goodbye, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away towards the narrow hallway of the home.

You see it’s Jisung after checking, and he’s definitely on a mission by the way he doesn’t utter a word. Instead, he drags you through the hallway and finally halts his steps at the sign of your bedroom door.

“Jisung, what are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t let up on your wrist, and definitely doesn’t spare you a glance until you’re both in the room with the door shut behind your back. It’s almost pitch black in the room, and the only light source is the hallway lights illuminating underneath the crack of the door. Jisung finally lets go of your wrist when it’s just you two in your own space, and he brings that same arm above your head to anchor himself.

“Jisung.”

“Y/n,” his voice comes out hoarse, more playful. This was just what you wanted. He’s right here on a silver platter and you hadn’t even come close to building up the courage to approach him first.

Too bad you love to act dumb for the hell of it.

“What are you doing?” your eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, noticing how close his face was to yours. It was the perfect opportunity. Taeyong was probably passed out along with the loud music all throughout the house. There’s no way anyone could hear a thing from inside the room.

“Just wanted you to myself,” he comments. You can smell the alcohol on his lips, assuming it was the reason behind his impatience– but don’t think he’s drunk due to his coherent speech and careful movements.

“You have me to yourself now. So what is it?” you gloat, acting as if you don’t notice him struggling to control himself.

“Sorry, I took you away from your little boyfriend. Look’s like you guys were having fun,” you can hear the slight anger in his voice, jaw clenching following the statement.

You roll your eyes in order to suppress a grin, the alcohol influencing you to play games, “Hyuck isn’t my boyfriend, just an old friend. Remember him?”

He notices the hint of playfulness in your eyes, wanting to just fuck it out of you. But he’s waited too long to do this, and there have been too many interrupted moments, so he leans into patience for resolve. “Oh, I must have missed something babe.”

You shift your face closer to him to prove your point once again, “He calls everyone that! Go up to him, he’ll literally call you babe.”

“Hmm,” Jisung hums. “Should I call him Hyuck too?”

Your eyes shoot to his plushy lips, his jealousy turning you on, but you don’t back down just yet, “If you heard that, then you must’ve heard the part where I told him to go for Yuna.”

“I checked out the moment you were calling each other pet names, baby,” he leans his hips against you, eyes evident with desire even in the darkness.

“Well, it’s definitely different coming from you,” you give him what he wants to hear, but it’s ultimately the truth.

Jisung pulls back just to lean down against your ear, “Different, how?”

It’s like he knows the power he has over you when he’s using that tone, including the fact that you feel him between your legs only slightly hard. It’s definitely bigger than you previously thought, the excitement shooting to your core, “I’m not spelling it out for you, baby.”

The name has him bringing his face back to where it was before, cocking a brow. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Play games. Don’t fuck with me because if you are, I’m gonna lose it,” he seethes, all control he previously displayed being lost in an instant.

You began narrowing the gap between the two of you even more, your noses brushing against each other. Jisung falters slightly as you do so, his hand landing on your hip. He's noticeably less in control than when he initially encircled you in the room, taking in every inch of you as you jut your hips forward.

He groans, struggling to keep up with what you've been doing.

"I'm not fucking with you," you say, holding his chin with your thumb and index finger, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. "Just giving you what you want."

Jisung doesn’t know how you tempt while looking so innocent. If he’s being honest with himself, he never holds a sliver of command when you’re present. “You’re hot as fuck,” he mutters, trying to maintain a normal breathing pattern.

"You're hotter," your lips nearly touch at the movement. You're grinning ear-to-ear, but it's short-lived as Jisung grabs your nape and presses his lips to yours. This kiss is nothing like the previous one, and you want to drown in him. You press your mouth even harder on his, and he responds by positioning his entire weight against your body. You’re actually somewhat sober this time around and take notice of the piercing at the corner of his lips. The silver metal grazing over your lips provides a cold sensation to the hot atmosphere, and you push down a moan at the feeling.

He’s such a good kisser, it surprises you but doesn’t at the same time. The boy you used to know was so different than the one in front of you now.

When you set your arms around his neck to play with his locks, he grabs a hold of your waist. You're drowning, arching your back to relieve the tension in your body as the kiss deepens. Jisung licks your lips, and you easily accept his tongue, lips fighting against his. His tongue dances with yours, getting sloppier by the minute, ready to rip each other's clothes off.

He taps the back of your leg with his hand, signaling for you to jump. You do so without breaking contact with his lips, and he smiles against yours. The taste of alcohol in his mouth ignites something within you, along with the scent of his washed hair intertwined with the cologne he’s wearing.

Jisung slowly sets you down against the mattress, slotting himself between your legs before he pulls back for air. “You look submissive as fuck right now. Is that what you’re into? Being dominated?” he purrs, fingers playing with the waistline of your pants.

“Only if you like to dominate.”

The switch in his head flips, and he uses one hand to unzip your jeans to slowly run his fingers over your clothed clit. Your toes curl at the sudden pressure to your sensitive core that's been begging to be touched. The thin material of your panties doesn’t do much to shield his touch, but one thing’s for sure, if it feels this good, you can’t imagine how it’d feel when it’s not just a tease.

“Fuck,” you pant, moving your hands underneath Jisung’s shirt.

“What?” he asks, moving down to your neck. The sensation of his warm tongue against your neck has your skin igniting goosebumps all over. “I can’t hear you. Already falling apart?”

“N-no,” you stutter, knowing damn well that anything done to you will be the actual end. It seems like he wants to win the moment he brings his red and swollen lips back onto yours, sparing any niceties. He’s smothering you, ruthlessly kissing you to no end. But when you become lost in his lips once again, Jisung slips his hand underneath the band of your underwear to touch your pussy head-on.

“Jisungg,” you say against his mouth.

Of course, he doesn’t let up, circling your bud, knowing exactly where to touch you even though this is the first time you’ve done this with him. It’s nothing, but feels like so much, your thighs attempting to close around his hand.

He’s still attacking your mouth with his, fingers trailing in an up-and-down motion between your folds. It surprises you, and you moan against his mouth, unable to maintain the same pattern with your lips. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he lets go of your mouth with a pop, groaning at the arousal coating his fingers.

“Please, Jisung. I need you,” you whimper, unable to take any more of the mere seconds of pleasure he’s giving you. You don’t even look down as he slides your pants off along with your panties in one motion. He tsks, lowly enunciating a small, “So impatient.”

Without anything in the way, he doesn’t waste time plunging his fingers into your pussy, groaning at the way the muscle tightly clamps around his fingers– and it shoots straight down to your core, never getting enough of how deep his voice is.

The pleasure you’ve been trying to grasp is finally reached, a gasp spilling from your lips once he curls his fingers inside you. Your hands have found their way to his back, fingers digging deep into his skin and he hisses at the slight pain.

“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs against your ear while his fingers begin to speed up in pace. You’re bucking your hips up, wanting to meet him halfway in order to reach euphoria. “I w-want it,” you cry.

“Want what?” he asks, voice too soft for the motions he’s enacting.

“Want you. Want you so bad,” you moan, throwing your head back when he hits a certain spot. It feels too good to stop, and every part of your body tingles at the pleasure.

You want to sob at the feeling it brings you, his fingers, mercilessly driving in and out of your cunt, while his thumb circles your clit. Your stomach feels tight from all the stimulation, and his body pressed against yours makes you feel hot all over. What you don’t notice is Jisung’s watching every movement on your facial features, loving the way your brows scrunch and how your pretty lips open up every time he hits a certain spot.

The band in your lower abdomen is on the verge of snapping, and the fact that he's above you doesn't help. Jisung's hair still falls perfectly, occasionally brushing the tip of his nose. He’s so fucking hot, you can’t hold back. You can't stop the orgasm from reaching your body simply by the way he feels on your body and looks above you.

“P-please,” you beg.

At the feeling of your pussy tightening around your fingers, he digs into your cheek, bringing your face back towards his. “Come on, you can do it. Cum,” he demands.

“F-fuck! I-I’m gonna–” you scream, body convulsing as your orgasm washes over you. He doesn’t stop his movements until you’re whining for him to stop. Pulling his coated fingers out, just to bring it to his lips.

As the climactic high wears off, your body becomes limp, but the image of Jisung bringing his plump lips to wrap around his fingers leaves you wanting more. You nearly squeak when he groans at the taste, letting go of his fingers with a pop. "Mmm," Jisung moans. "You taste so good."

“Here, have a taste baby,” he smirks, bringing those same digits to swipe motions at your core. You whimper at the sensitivity, the buzzing feeling still present. “Open,” he commands.

You listen, sticking out your tongue for him to insert them into your mouth. The wet muscle swirls around his fingers, finally closing around them, and you gag when he presses further into your mouth, teasing your throat. “Good girl.”

It’s so arousing that you intend to get up from your original position beneath him, but he catches your wrists and pins them over your head to keep you in place. Maybe it's the unfulfilled horniness from all the other times he’s tried to get you under him, but it's got you whining and squirming beneath him for his tolerance. “Fuck, it’s like you knew this was gonna happen,” he murmurs, not taking his eyes off your body.

His hot breath fans against your face, “Did you?” He begins to trace the contours of your body, slipping underneath your shirt on his way up. “No,” it’s a weak response, body twitching when he starts massaging your breasts. You had just experienced an unearthly orgasm, but everything Jisung does just causes your cunt to clench around nothing, and it’s only once out of a million times since he walked through the door.

“Just fuck me,” you plead, feeling his thick cock prodding at the side of your thigh.

“You sure?” he asks once more for confirmation.

“Yes, now hurry,” your whine turns into a pout, and he chuckles at your impatience.

“Do you have a condom in your room?”

“Fuck no, I’m on birth control.” He groans at the information, already quick to tug his cock out of its confines.

And just like that, Jisung slowly inches his cock into you. “Oh,” you cry at the fullness. He’s stretching you out so well, and the slight burn just adds fuel to the fire.

“Holy shit,” he sighs. “You’re so tight,” to ease the tightness, his fingers are already making their way back to your bud, circling in slow motions, “Relax for me pretty.”

You nod, eyes rolling back into your head when he slowly begins to move. “Fffuck,” he curses, his grip moving to your waist the moment your legs instinctively wrap around his. He feels so fucking good inside you and you regret with every ounce of your being you both didn’t do this sooner. You should’ve jumped him when you had the chance because fuck. How are you going to stop now? “You feel so fucking good,” he groans at the sensation.

“Ji–sung,” you moan, “Faster.” Your walls clench around his hard cock dragging against your walls, speeding up in pace and you fully lose it. The lewd sounds of skin slapping echo through the bedroom, and Jisung just swallows your pour of moans. He eventually listens to your request, practically nailing you into the mattress. It feels so good, the sounds coming from him, the feel of his cock pulling out, leaving the tip, just to roughly thrust back inside. You don’t know how much more you can take.

The thin silver chain he always wears around his neck dangles right before your eyes, and even in your fucked out state, you can’t stop looking at Jisung. The sweat on his forehead causes the front pieces to stick, the glow of sex already peeking through. “This is what you get,” he spits, but you can tell he’s slightly holding back. “This is what you get for all the times you fucking ran away. When I could’ve fucked you dumb like you want.”

Jisung’s name was the only thing coherent as he drills into you, squealing at a particular thrust of his hips. He’s so deep inside you, tip faintly against your cervix. “You’re cock’s s-so big,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision. The higher the tension builds in your stomach, the more Jisung continues to destroy you. “Jisung, fuck!”

“You like it hard huh? Want me to make your pussy mine?” His dirty words only have you holding onto him tighter, digging the heel of your feet into his spine. It’s too bad you can’t respond, your brain a puddle of mush at this point, cock going too fast for you to think about anything else. The bed frame knocks against the walls as the bed shakes but there’s no room to worry about that. Especially when he’s hitting every spot inside you perfectly.

“Answer me,” he grunts as your moans grow higher in pitch, unable to take it much longer.

“Y-yes, it’s a-all yours,” your body jolts after every movement, carving pleasure all over his skin. The thread that holds on for dear life is on the verge of snapping, and you wail before your second orgasm can send you crashing down.

It was so easy for Jisung to slide in and out of your pussy, your dripping arousal coating his cock perfectly. “Ji–” you attempt to warn him, but he already made his way back to your clit, pressing rough circles. You begin to babble random sounds, unable to form coherent words when he’s impaling you.

“Yes!” A shriek tears itself from your throat at your orgasm, and your toes curl at the high that takes over you yet again tonight. Your body spasms, and your mind stuck in a haze when he continues stuffing your achy cunt with him.

“Holy shit,” it’s almost impossible for Jisung to keep going when you’re clamping down on him like a vice, keeping him from completely being able to leave.

“Inside, cum inside, Jisung,” you plead when his hips begin to stutter. After a few more thrusts, he fully moans, painting your insides. “Fuck,” It feels even more full than before, if that was even possible and you whimper from the overstimulation from the last few movements. After his orgasm is at its resolution, he slumps into your form, not bothering to pull out.

You’re both just lying there trying to catch your breath, and it’s somewhat serene. The music combined with the vague sound of murmurs could be heard from outside and that’s when you remember that there were indeed a bunch of individuals present too. Maybe they heard you guys fucking, and Jisung seems to have similar thoughts when he raises his head to murmur something. “I forgot to lock the door.”

Your eyes shoot wide open in response, “What? Are you serious? Someone could walk in to you butt-ass naked!”

You’re actually alarmed, but he just stares back at you, his mouth turning into a wide grin. “Nah, I’m just playin',” he laughs.

You chuckle along with him, playfully slapping his shoulder because of his unseriousness. “You’re so annoying.”

“Get used to it baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

2K notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 5 months

Note

WOOOOOOOO TRAINING'S GOT ME FUCKED UP I AM GOING TO BE HURTING TOMORROW....I hate pushups. Anyways- Daily Hobie HC! I have noticed that his border will increase/decrease in size according to his energy...andddd I loved guitar anon's little 'i love you's on his newspaper texture so I decided to take it and run with it >:) Despite his newspaper texture probably displaying his thoughts (aka 'i love you', 'stunning', 'kiss?', etc), I feel like it could also be used for a kinda non-verbal comfort. Perhaps you don't feel like talking, but you want a specific type of comfort. His questions/thoughts will display. For example: 'Food?' (Shake head) 'Space?' (Shake head) 'Cuddles?' (Nod) And since his border increases/decreases with energy, imagine he's coming back from a mission/fight to see you, immediately running up and picking you up by the waist, twirling you around. As soon as he runs towards you and picks you up, his border practically explodes with the sudden burst of energy upon seeing you. Even if he gets flustered or startled, the border will slightly increase, before he calms down again. He probably turns pink around you too:) Perhaps when you guys were about to have your first kiss, it began to show up on his newspaper texture as a non-verbal ask. It was literally just 'Kiss?' floating around, waiting for you to respond with a nod or a shake of your head. Yk what I kinda like writing Hobie so expressive like this I might include it in my work<3 - 🐦‍⬛

Oh nooo use hot compress, maybe that'll help?

YAYY DAILY HOBIE HC!!!

SO CUTE!!!!!! You're giving me ideas on this one request where r can see Hobie's cute borders!!

Ooohhh imagine once you two finally have your first kiss, there's magazine cut outs of fireworks in his art style!!! And when he misses you your name is comes out in one of those collage type of lettering! 🥰

Yes!! There needs to be more fics out there that explores this cute thing of him ❤️

#ask answered #chatting with lovelies #hobie thoughts #hobie headcanons #🫶🫶🫶#🐦‍⬛ anon

17 notes · View notes

underratedmurder · 1 year

Text

“Daydreaming” Arvel Skeen/Reader

Reader gets caught with their eyes closed during watch at the camp, Skeen confronts them.

Stuff in this: Daydreaming, Skeen being a dick, Reader being too coy for their own good, Skeen wants Reader tremendously, making out on the ground, no smut but they get pretty close lmao, tattoo bonding, soft Skeen, pining over Ebon Moss-Bachrach's beautiful eyes, cursing, they have a lot of tension, it is somewhat resolved

WOOOOOOOO okay I'm finally finished, and I can move on to the next one cause yes I'm doing another with him and probably another Richie fic too cause why not.

Enjoy this, I hope it's good. Idk if I like it but I am just being critical of myself I think.

__________________

Cool air rolled over your face from the morning breeze, the sky grey and bright, you could see the light through your closed eyes. You daydreamt of water, pools of it, oceans, rolling waves that carried you to a sun. Warm, and dry. All around you though, you felt the wet chill of last nights rain, moss beneath you and a hard rock by your head.

Still, you dreamed. Until the light was suddenly dark and you heard the low growl of the man's voice above you.

“Looks like… you're dead,” his voice drones on,”No chance to fight back, no time to warn the others, just dead. And so’s the entire camp,” Skeen grumbled into your ear, his matter of fact tone as present as ever.

He held his blaster to your temple, hand on your shoulder as you held your hands behind your head.

“This may work on Nemik, but it’s not gonna work on me,” you smiled, eyes still closed as the heat from his face radiated onto yours.

He shifted the blaster, and squeezed your shoulder a bit tighter.

“Oh yeah? And you not hearing me coming, that's not a problem? Sleeping on watch is a dangerous gamble,” you could hear the judgment on his lips, and you finally opened your eyes.

He was dangerously close, closer than he knew you would have normally allowed.

“I wasn’t sleeping, and I knew you were coming. Just needed my last bit of beauty sleep, before you deprived me of it,”.

“Beauty sleep, huh?” he questioned, amused.

“Mhm, you could use some. You look fucked up,” you uttered, looking him up and down, though he really didn’t give you much room to do so.

His chest hovered over yours, his fist still firmly on your shoulder. Surprisingly, he didn’t tire from the position.

He hummed, then titled his head,“I actually work around here,” he sneered pointedly, his eyes staring deeply into yours.

He looked like pure shadow, surrounded by the light of the sky, his features dark with something that looked like a mix of anger and lust.

“Indeed you do. You… clean my hammock, serve me food, and clean my clothes,” you chimed, barely twitching a smile.

His face looked red, and his mouth twisted.

“You’re such a fuckin bitch,” he let a downturned smile spread across his face.

Something hinted to you that he might have enjoyed this.

Your eyes darted and scanned his face. You tried to remain calm, opting to ignore the convenient placement of his hips and waist by your propped up knee.

“You can get off me now,” you sighed, almost wishing you hadn’t said it. But you were too open right now, in view of the camp. You liked privacy, you hoped he did too.

He sighed, then removed the blaster from your head, shaking it in front of you.

“You’re lucky I don’t pull this trigger,” he held your gaze, still propped on top of you, too comfortable than he should have been.

You sniffed and scrunched your nose, watching his face and waiting for him to get off.

Finally, he rose, grunting as he removed his hand from your shoulder.

You got up after him, brushing off your legs and right shoulder. You looked over to Skeen, whose face only read irritation.

“Oh come on, it's just rest, Skeen. We all need it. You might as well let me enjoy my time on this beautiful planet,” you mused. It was pretty, but not really what you wanted.

He didn’t look so convinced, “We've been here for months,” he placed a hand on his hip, blaster still in the other, you wondered if he’d ever put it away around you.

“And still you’ve done nothing to make that time any more enjoyable,” you sighed, arms crossed to shield you from the cool wind that blew past you.

“For you or for me?” he titled his head again, taking a single step forward. The wind whipped the collar of his vest, and you caught sight of his neck.

You accidentally let your eyes flit down to his waist. He was tall and lean and pretty. Pretty, like this planet, but not light. He was dark, and rough, and not nearly the ocean wave you dreamed of. Maybe he could see that, in your eyes. Or maybe he just saw pure dumb desire.

You didn’t answer. For once, his proximity was hard to talk around.

“You’re awfully leisurely all of the sudden,” he noted, and you could feel his eyes piercing you.

“I was bored,” you forced your eyes to only look at his face.

“How bored?” he tilted his head down, eyeing you like prey, and you couldn’t help but look at his lips.

“Bored,” you stated, stiff but wary to pretend to be comfortable around him, as he seemed to sway in your direction.

He looked at you and smiled. And for a second, you were terrified.

You heard nothing but the beating of your own heart and the wind, until suddenly, his blaster clicked, the safety turned off.

“Turn around,” he grimaced, his tone gritty and angry.

Your heart grew loud in your chest. You swore by every star you might faint from the blood that filled your head.

You turned, slowly but calmly, your eyes locked with his until he was out of view. What kind of sick joke was this? Arvel had his games but this was different, it was aggressive, personal.

The blaster pushed hard into your spine, and a chill ran down your back, warmth leaving your face.

“Move,” he commanded, mouth close to your ear.

You walked. Away from the camp and past the pile of rocks and moss, as his gun guided you.

You were maybe one hundred feet away now, far from the view of the others. A convenient place to die.

“Here,” he said in almost a whisper, you barely heard it over the sound of your own footsteps.

You halted, face stricken with fear and utter confusion, Shoulders tense and body cold. You missed your place on the rocks.

“Get on your knees y/n,” he sounded like stone, unmoved and emotionless. He said your name for the first time in months. For a time, all you heard was a mumbled “fuckin cunt” or your last name like it was curse.

You lowered, and the blaster followed. Knees on the wet dirt, your hands resting on your lower thighs, you breathed in deep, keeping your head up.

You prayed to the stars he was just going to teach you a lesson, hold the blaster to your head and scold you for the lazy piece of dirt you assumed he considered you to be. You feared your teasing had gone too far.

Maybe he just really wanted to stay on top of you.

You looked at the sky for a moment, still grey and light. You imagined that place again, but all you could see was a wave that swallowed you, and Skeen, dragging you to the bottom. His arms wrapped around you, fingers pulling your hair. And his eyes, like the clearest parts of the sea.

You couldn’t see him, you couldn’t hear him, and you could no longer feel him around you. His blaster left your neck, and you heard the safety click off.

Your heart picked up again, as you forced yourself to stare forward. Skeens' footsteps rounded on the grass, and before you knew it he stood in front of you.

The shadow was all around you, light abandoned and stolen, you expected death, but met a grey confusion.

You furrowed your brows, as he lowered to his knees just inches from you.

His bright blue eyes were like fire, and the darkness around you was relinquished by an inhuman heat. He looked at you like you were the drink of water in a desert he couldn’t escape, and by stars he actually bit his lip. You by no means saw his teeth, but it was like the opposite of frustrated concentration.

You blinked, “This is an odd way to kill someone,” you heard your own voice shake. You thought about hearing him again, and you wondered what he would sound like, as he was so close, looking at you like that.

“Quiet,” it was barely a whisper, and soothing, something you could dream of. You noticed he was staring at your lips.

“I am quiet,” you replied, your voice even lower, eyes searching his face for an answer to your doubt.

You saw the last bit of thought leave his face, his mouth agape. You wondered just how he tasted, and it made your mouth water.

Skeen brought a hand to hold your neck, his blaster lying on the ground. His fingers were warmer than you imagined, but still moist from the air.

In an instant, he brought his lips to yours, breathing in to kiss you. His chest pressed against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist. You wrangled up your arms to push him, your fingers gripping his vest.

You held him out a few inches, staring at his mouth, red, darker than the pink that filled his face. You jolted him forward, your hand on his neck now, clawing at his face and kissing him with an eager fervor. You slowed at his mouth, and breathed against his cheek when he went to hold your sides, fingers sliding up your jacket and skimming under your shirt.

You wanted to taste him for real, so you let your tongue reach out to meet his, devouring the kiss like the light and heat that escaped you in the cold.

His lips were salt and dirt, but his tongue was like bloody coal and steaming rocks. You finally found that warmth.

You reached to hold his lower back, and pulled his pelvis into yours, a low moan escaped his lips, but was muffled by your mouth on his.

You held him tighter, fingers reaching for under his jacket and shirt. When you met his skin he seemed to shiver, and you let your hands crawl up his sides, mimicking the way he had reached for you.

“Ha- shit,” he huffed, a smile spreading across his face. He tilted his head back to breath, and with a single glance of his neck you attacked it, kissing and nipping at his veins.

“Think I’m late for watch,” he breathed, holding onto your neck and shoulder.

“Mhm,” you hummed on the warm skin under his jaw.

“Is this payback for making you think I was gonna kill you?”

"Mhm,” you hummed, more than pleased to take control for a moment. You looked him in the eyes as you let your mouth leave his collarbone. Your lips were wet and hot, his eyes widened.

“Fuck,” he sighed.

“You made me get in the dirt, I’m fuckin’ keeping you here,” you sneered, turning him towards the incline of the hill behind you, still on your knees.

You pushed him down, and he lay there with his vest open and shirt loose. You almost missed the feeling of the pressure of his hand on your shoulder, his body looming over yours, but this was better. Him on his back and sensitive to your touch.

You straddled his waist, your hands feeling around the rim of his pants, poking under to touch the skin just below his stomach and above his crotch. It was warm beneath his layers, a little bit hairy and soft. You stared at his tan skin for a moment, and saw something beyond the darkness of his tired face. His eyes were dilated and sparkling all the same.

You lowered yourself onto him, pressure on his hips and a hand still playing at his side. He hummed, holding back what you expected might be a whimper.

You sank down on top of him, holding his face, his neck, his arms, holding every part of him and indulging in it all the same as you made his lips pliable beneath yours.

He was breathing out his words, and at once he whispered your name, as your lips parted for a moment.

“Quiet,” you murmured, teasing but your face entirely serious. It seemed to make him dazed, the way you held him down and looked into his eyes when you said it.

You settled into him, letting his hands hold your hips as you grinded slowly on top of him.

“I want you,” he uttered.

Without a second thought you were pulling at his shirt, lifting it to reveal his heaving chest, and the tattoo that marked it. You were reminded of the one on your forearm, and the memories attached to it. You weren’t even sure if he’d seen yours yet. As your mind wandered, so did your fingers over his tattoo, the marking of the pain and suffering he had endured. You traced it lightly, as his eyes met sheepishly with your own.

“You’ve seen me,” he rasped, watching your hands move across his skin.

“Feels different,” you said absently, and a puzzled look filled his face.

He helped to remove your tunic, and sure enough, there was a tattoo similar to his, on your right bicep. He reached to hold your arm, drawing it, and you, closer to him. Your bare chest on his, you began to feel feverish in the heat between the two of you.

Skeen held your gaze as he lowered his lips to kiss your arm, tenderly and slow. He kissed again, and again, slowly moving upwards and past your shoulder, holding your back as he went along your collarbone, and fervently upon your neck.

He held himself under your jaw, marking the skin with pulled blood. That wouldn’t be going away anytime soon.

You dipped down to let your lips rest on the tattoo on his chest, kissing just as slowly, and as tenderly as he had. You engaged in the strange ritual, but found it familiar. The tentativeness between you, you had felt it before. When he checked up on you at watch, when he gave you extra food at supper, when he threatened you so sweetly with the prospect of death by his own hands. And when he saw you for the first time, that recognition. Every conversation since then, he’d wanted something. More.

“Skeen!?” A voice cried out, from beyond the hill and where you imagined the rocks to be. It was Vel.

The two of you scrambled, pulling shirts over each other's bodies, and buttoning garments. Not much faster than you’ve needed to before, being in the presence of enemies, but with far more fear.

You were on the last button of your jacket when Skeen grabbed you by the collar and pulled you to his lips, kissing you hungrily, but quickly. He let you go, and you pulled away puzzled, but unapologetically pleased.

You smiled slightly, until he grabbed your collar again, and shot up from the ground, dragging you with him.

Vel was just coming into view when you finally got to your feet, leaning forward by the hand that pulled you along. Skeen sauntered towards her, his blaster at his side again. The disguise was up.

“Found this one playing in the dirt,” he called out, and flung you forward, letting go of your jacket and sending you tripping over your own feet.

You stayed a foot, straightening yourself up and looking back at him, a disgruntled scowl upon your face. You hoped he enjoyed that.

“DId you?” Vel questioned, a look of disappointment complimented her words.

“Looks like they’re more of a dreamer than we anticipated,” Skeen commented,

Vel just looked at you, as you breathed in and sighed, you didn’t argue. This was punishment for earlier, the real daydreaming, and you knew that.

“You know the rules,” Vel commanded, and you nodded your head.

A pile of laundry and chores awaited you.

You rubbed your neck, and for a moment, Vel caught a glance of you, she really looked for the first time. Your hair, your skin, you saw her eyes flit across your face, and you felt pale.

“New shirt?” she blurted.

You looked down, noticing the bagginess of the sleeves, and the low cut of the neck. Your eyes flitted back up immediately.

You were wearing his.

You hesitated, eyes wide and mouth agape, what was there to say? Vel gave you a lifted brow and you threw out a “No,” instantly feeling stupid.

You knew if you had said yes, she would ask where you got it and then you’d be in an even bigger hole. So, you resorted to the vague truth.

She locked eyes with you, your anxiety and embarrassment apparent, and she shook her head.

You looked back at Skeen, he was shaking his head as well, covering the smile that creased his eyes.

So much for the disguise.

“Come on,” she ordered, and you followed. Trailing behind in a defeated slump.

She suddenly stopped and turned around, looking past you. You followed her gaze to rest on Skeen, already on his way towards the rocks.

“And Skeen, keep watch,”.

“My pleasure,” he tilted his chin up, his voice calling back like it was an echo from your dream. And for a moment, his eyes left Vel and landed on you.

Silly guy ^

Gifs by @gayvillains

#andor show #andor fanfiction #arvel skeen #Arvel Skeen/reader #Arvel Skeen fanfiction #richie jerimovich #the bear

18 notes · View notes

lvjy-rue · 2 years

Text

[ A little bit much - Bucky Barnes x reader ]

first fic on this acc, woooooooo!!

tw: fainting, cussing, smooching, mentions of not eating and sleeping enough

You stared at your book, eyes wandering over the words on the pages, which had now turned into large jumbles of gibberish.

Glancing over at the clock, you sighed.

"5:00 A.M" it read, the light red glow of the number causing a dull pain behind your eyes.

You had gotten no sleep once again, so you begrudgingly stood from your spot and began to get ready for the day.

Throwing on some shorts and a baggy tee, you exited your room and headed towards the kitchen.

You jumped back however, when you saw another person in the kitchen, letting out a small squeak.

"Calm down n/n, it's just me." The figure called out, which you now recognized to be Bucky.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as you allowed your shoulders to relax.

As much as you hated to admit it, you had a huge crush on Bucky.

You were completely oblivious to the fact that he liked you as well, and anytime somebody would mention the close relationship between the two of you, you were quick to dismiss it.

The two of you were complete opposites, but maybe thats what drew you to him...

"Jesus buck, you scared the shit out of me" you say with a chuckle as you walk towards him. "What are you even doing awake this early?" you question, raising an eyebrow at him.

He smirks, "I could ask you the same n/n" he says as he turns to face you.

You froze, realizing he made an excellent point.

"I... uh, couldn't sleep... you?" you asked.

“same” he whispers, and he opens his mouth to speak again but is cut off by a small beep. The coffee maker beeps as the final drops fall into the pot. “Want any coffee?” He asks as he turns on his heel to grab a mug from the cabinet.

“I’m ok buck, thanks though” you say with a small smile.

“hey buck, will you train with me later? I need some competition for once” you chuckle, looking up at him.

“Yeah of course! I’ll meet you there at around four, ok?” He says with a wink, before exiting the kitchen, cup of coffee in hand.

You smile softly, eyes falling to the ground as you linger in the kitchen for a few moments more before turning on your heel to leave.

As the day went on, you began to feel sudden bursts of dizziness.

You didn’t think much of it, but as they progressively grew worse you began to fret.

You remained silent however, fearing that if you were to talk about your sudden fatigue, the team would see you as weak.

So you continued with your day, brushing the issue away like it was nothing.

As 4 o’clock approached your eyes began to grow heavy. But once again, you pushed it aside and headed towards the training room, rubbing your eyes as you entered.

“You ok n/n? Looking a little rough there” Bucky says, startling you for the second time today.

“Wow, thanks” you say sarcastically, eyes meeting Bucky’s.

He chuckled before patting you on the back.

You two were quick to get to fighting.

You had brought Bucky down twice, he had brought you down once.

He was determined to beat you, and he immediately called for a fourth round.

You hesitantly agreed, but before the two of you could start you began to sway on your feet.

“Woah woah woah, are you sure you’re ok?” He questions, rushing to your side quickly.

You nodded, muttering a quick “let’s get this over with” before taking your stance.

This fight seemed to go on for ages, and every punch you made seemed to take all the energy in your body.

You threw one final hit towards Bucky, but missed him by a mile.

He started to make a counterpunch, but quickly stopped himself when your breathing became labored.

Before he could say anything, you collapsed forward onto him, and the only thing you heard before the world went dark was him calling your name.

—

you woke up a few hours later, and let out a groan at the bright lights in the infirmary.

You blinked a few times, and you were quick to notice a metal hand gripping your own. You turned to face Bucky, a look of embarrassment on your face.

“Good morning sleepyhead” He whispered to you, despite the fact it was 11:00 at night according to the clock on the wall.

You began to murmur several apologies but you were quickly cut off by his hand over your mouth.

“All that matters is that you’re ok y/n, I genuinely thought I lost you for a second” he says concerned

“I fainted I didn’t get shot” you say with a chuckle, causing him to smile.

you loved when Bucky smiled

“Bruce says you haven’t been eating enough, and that you’re severely exhausted… when’s the last time you ate or slept n/n?”

he asks, squeezing your hand a bit tighter.

You open your mouth to speak but you hesitate.

when was the last time you ate or got a full nights sleep?

you truly weren’t sure.

Bucky frowned at this, “you can’t do this to yourself y/n… and for the next few months I’m going to make sure you take care of yourself” he says

“I’m fine buck, I’ll be ok”

“That’s what you say every time, even when you’re not ok.” He says, causing you to frown.

You hated to admit it but he was right.

“Why do you care so much buck?” You question.

“You want the truth?” He questions in return.

“No I want you to lie. Of course i want the truth!!” You say jokingly.

Bucky pauses for a moment before taking both your hands in his own.

“God ok… y/n… I have feelings for you. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met and I adore you more than you could ever know. When I first met you, I thought that you would never want to be friends with someone like me. An old man who shelters himself from people, but when you came up to me and started talking about god knows what I immediately fell in love. And I understand if you don’t feel the sa-“

He was quickly cut off by you pulling him in for a kiss, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you pulled away.

“How could I not feel the same buck, I love you too…” you say before pulling him in for another kiss.

Maybe you fainting wasn’t so bad after all…

—

this is so bad I’m so rusty sorry guys 😭😭

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel x you

31 notes · View notes

peachy-hwa · 2 years

Text

It's Your Birthday (Make a Wish)

ANOTHER CHANGBIN FIC WOOOOOOOO.

And it is yet again for Oz because it's his BIRTHDAY!

This fic is Changbin x Trans male reader! They have sex for the first time!! It's birthday sex ;)

This fic uses terms typically used to describe afab anatomy so just know that going in!!

Warnings: trans reader, unprotected sex, oral sex, light dirty talk, consent conversations, reader is insecure about having sex so they talk about it

Smut under the cut <3

It was getting to be close to your birthday, and you couldn’t be more excited. This was going to be the first birthday that you celebrated with your lovely boyfriend Changbin, and it was already feeling like a dream. You knew that he was planning something, you had caught him quickly changing tabs on his computer a couple of times, and even kindly suggesting that you leave the evening of your birthday free so that you can spend time with him to do... something. You couldn’t wait to see what he had planned, he was the most attentive person you had ever been with and it was wonderful. All you had to do was distantly think about being sad and he would show up with flowers and a suggestion to watch one of your favorite movies and cuddle.

But unfortunately, that attentiveness had been a little bit of a problem for you lately. See the issue was, Changbin was hot. Like. Unbelievably, stupidly, cum in your pants just thinking about it hot. The being hot itself wasn’t really the problem. The real problem was that you were painfully horny all the time as a result of the hotness. And you couldn’t do anything about it.

You could jerk off, sure, and you had definitely done a lot of that lately, but there’s only so much a vibrator could do when you were constantly faced with a shirtless Changbin. So, maybe it was finally time to bite the bullet and talk to him about actually doing something beyond makeout sessions that you stopped before things could get too hot and heavy. The only thing keeping you from having sex with him literally all day every day was that you were trans, and the two of you hadn’t really had a conversation about it yet. You had talked about being trans of course, and he knew that you had gotten top surgery a couple of years back, but the two of you had never really broached the subject of sex, or what kind of equipment you had down there. You knew he was lovely and accepting of you and thought you were hot and gorgeous and handsome regardless, but a big part of you had always been worried that he would just be turned off by the fact that you didn’t have a dick. And that part had always won out, hence the pent-up horny frustration. But maybe it was time to change that.

The morning of your birthday finally arrived and found you waking up to Changbin bringing you breakfast in bed. He was so wonderful it was crazy. You spent the rest of the day out with some friends, coming back home just in time for the two of you to head out to the sushi restaurant that you loved so much. After a lovely dinner, the two of you decide to go on a walk before heading home for the night, and this feels like the right moment if there ever was one. As the two of you walked along a cute little path near the apartment you shared, you gently reached out and grabbed his hand. You needed the support for the conversation you were about to have.

“So… Changbin..” you started.

“Yeah?” He turned towards you as the two of you walked, awaiting the rest of your sentence.

“Ireallywanttohavesexwithyoubutimnervousyouwontbeintoitbecuaseidonthaveadickhahamaybeicouldjustblowyouyoudonthavetotouchmeatallactuallyifyoudontwantto” All of your words spilled out in a jumbled rush, and it made your cheeks get warm. You really weren’t normally this much of a mess.

Thankfully, he had been able to understand you.

“y/n, of course, I want to have sex with you, I would be into you even if you had a giant pumpkin down there. Seriously, you’re so hot to me no matter what.” He replied softly, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb soothingly. “If you’re not comfortable with me seeing you like that though there are a lot of things we can do that are a little more than we’ve been doing but would hopefully make you feel comfier?” He continued.

“No no, I really am comfortable doing pretty much anything with you, I just worried because we hadn’t really talked about it…” You trailed off.

“I hadn’t brought it up only because I didn’t want to make you talk about something you didn’t want to discuss, but I can promise you that I am. So very much into you and want to do however much you want to do.” He smiled as he said this, and you felt heat start to twist in your gut at just the vague suggestion of him really wanting you, maybe as much as you wanted him.

“Ah… this is so exciting I’m not even gonna lie I think about having sex with you like. Constantly these days.” Now that you had overcome the hurdle of starting the conversation, your desire was starting to spill out. You really did want him so bad.

“I know we just talked about this, but if you wanted, we could do something tonight…” He trailed off, looking a little nervous. Like you would ever turn that offer down.

“Aww, Binnie wants to fuck me as a birthday present!” You laugh loudly, and start heading back to your apartment, practically pulling him after you.

“Eager?” He teases, and you respond by playfully hitting his arm. Obviously yes, but you didn’t need it said out loud.

When the two of you made it back to the apartment, he had barely shut the door before you were on him, pushing him back against the wall and kissing him hard. He seemed a little surprised but went along with it, wrapping his arms around your neck as you pressed closer to him, wanting to have as much of your body touch his as physically possible. You pull away from the kiss to start kissing down his neck, smiling as you felt his breathing quicken and his hips twitch slightly. This is about the point in your makeout sessions that you would stop and gently pull away, but not this time. This time, you answer the twitching of his hips by grinding into him, and he let out a gasp and continued to move his hips against yours. After several more minutes of this, he was gently moving you backward, mumbling out a “Baby can we go to the bedroom please,” and at your answering nod, he grabbed your hand and very nearly ran to the room the two of you shared.

Once in the room, he waited for you to sit on the bed and then gently lowered himself into your lap. You felt your cheeks grow warm at the sight of his very visible bulge and leaned in to begin kissing him again as soon as he was settled on top of you. Almost immediately he pulled away to start kissing down your neck and gently unbuttoning your shirt. You tipped your head back, breathing heavily and resisting the urge to moan at the feeling of his lips on your skin. Once he had undone all of the buttons, he leaned back to just. Look at you. If you hadn’t been blushing before you certainly would be now.

“You look so good like this, fuck,” He mumbled and leaned back in to continue kissing at your neck, occasionally biting gently and sending shivers down your spine.

You began to gently stroke his thighs, bringing your hands closer and closer to his bulge with each movement. His hips were twitching, trying unconsciously to get your hands to where he wanted them the most. Eventually, you gave in, rubbing against his clothed cock and feeling warmth zing through you at the groan he let out in response.

“Can you get naked, please? I want to see you,” You asked, voice coming out breathless.

He let out a chuckle and stood up to begin undressing.

You had seen him shirtless countless times before, but you felt your breath catch in your throat as you watched him pull his shirt off, and then reach to unbutton his pants. At the sight of his dick tenting his underwear, you swore your mouth literally started watering. He slowly pulled those down as well, and then there he was, fully naked and standing in front of you.

“How on earth are you so hot this is so unfair!” You whined.

He laughed softly and moved to sit on the bed. You wasted no time getting up, walking over to him, and kneeling between his legs.

You watched his face grow red looking at you there, the look in his eyes almost disbelieving.

“Changbin, darling, love of my life, can I pretty please suck your dick?”

He blushed even more at that.

“Y-yeah. Of course, you can.”

That was all the encouragement you needed. You began to softly kiss his upper thighs because. Seriously. His thighs. His hips twitched up at the feeling, and his dick bobbed slightly, and you were so over teasing him. You just wanted him in your mouth.

Slowly you licked him from base to tip, memorizing the taste of him, before taking the tip in your mouth and sucking on it gently. He let out a whine at this, and it was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. You slowly started to take more of him in your mouth, obsessed with how nice it felt to have your mouth full. Eventually, you had taken all of him, and your nose was pressed to his pelvis as you swallowed around him.

He brought a hand down to run it through your hair gently, clearly having to keep himself from moving so as not to mess up your rhythm as you started to move. Every time you took his whole cock in your mouth, he groaned, getting more and more worked up by the second. You brought a hand up to massage his balls gently, and he moaned even louder than before. You let out an answering moan in response, and something about the vibrations around his dick finally got him to start talking.

“Fuck baby, that feels so good, how are you so good at this, ah, fuck-” He cut himself off by moaning again, tipping his head back and twitching his hips up slightly.

“I’m not gonna last, I’m gonna cum, can I cum on your face, please baby-”

And who were you to deny him? You pulled off of his cock, angling it at your face and stroking him fast. Within moments he was letting out a long groan of your name and cuming on you, some of it landing on your lips, which you immediately licked. You were definitely addicted to the taste of him, no matter how weird that was.

You kept stroking him through the aftershocks until he actually moved your hand away, and pulled you up into his lap. He helped you wipe off the rest of his release with a tissue and then pulled you in for a kiss, bringing his hands down to your hips, urging you to grind against his thigh. In all the wonder of seeing him cum you had honestly forgotten your own arousal, but it was coming back to you full force now. You whined softly at the friction, and he pulled away from the kiss.

“Baby, are you ok with me returning the favor and eating you out?” He asked softly, running his hand along your inner thigh as he spoke.

“Yes, yes of course, oh my god.”

You moved off of his lap to lay on the bed, pulling off your pants and underwear.

For a moment he just sat there staring at you, and you felt your heartbeat get faster, still a little bit nervous about what he would think.

“You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen what the fuck.” He sounded legitimately mad about how hot you were, which made you smile softly, filled with relief as he settled between your legs.

At the first touch of his tongue, you let out a gasp, arching off the bed a little bit. You really were not going to last long with how sensitive you already were. He continued to lick softly at your clit, running his hands along your inner thighs as he did so. You reached down to tangle your fingers in his hair, urging him to keep going.

He moved lower, literally fucking you with his tongue, and you let out a loud moan in response, your brain-to-mouth filter officially completely gone.

“Changbin, fuck, someday I want you to fuck me like, for real, wanna feel you inside, you feel so good like this, oh my god, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum, ah-”

Changbin was licking from your hole to your clit and it was heavenly, you had been serious when you had said you were going to cum. You felt it building inside you, your whole body going tense as you prepared for what was about to be a mind-blowing orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, don’t stop don’t stop-”

You cut yourself off with a loud moan, cumming hard on his tongue. He licked you through the aftershocks, your legs trembling around him until he pulled back and looked into your eyes.

You lay all the way down and sighed, closing your eyes and mumbling, “Happy birthday to me wow.’

He laughed, and cuddled into your side, grabbing a blanket and pulling it over the two of you. You curled up against him, burrowing in even closer as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Seriously how are you so handsome and how have we gone so long not doing this.” He remarked, slowly running a hand through your hair.

“I don’t know but you better believe we will be doing this all the time now.” You replied.

“Oh of course. I’m insatiable now that I’ve had a taste.” He gave you a sleazy wink as he said it, prompting you to hit him gently on the shoulder and giggle.

“What do you say we go out to the living room and eat ice cream and watch a movie now?” He questioned, looking into your eyes with so much love that you almost couldn’t stand it.

“That sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.”

151 notes · View notes

solastia · 3 years

Note

Day 22

Faith, Namjoon x Reader, 8/8 Chapters, 31k words

After trying to squeeze everything for Beneath the Surface, I think I’m going to split this one into two days. So...today we will be squealing about the first four chapters. Buckle up Buttercup, this about to be a whole damn emotional rollercoaster!

I think it was this story that cemented in me just how much I love your writing style. I love going through it with a story, but please give me a happy ending. I get too emotionally involved and invested in these characters and having a sad or open ended final chapter is too much for me! Give me the warm and fuzzy feels in the end! You really like to give us satisfying stories and happy endings. I was once deeply invested in a Harry Potter fanfic and it ended up having a tragic ending and I swear to Bob, it scarred me! We have enough sadness irl, give me the fairytale!!!

So, in this story, our MC falls in love with Namjoon, who is an underground rapper. You see how you ground the story for the fans? This could have really happened, or maybe it did...wait. Thinking about it now, we’ve all heard the theories that Joon is secretly married with kids. GURL, DO YOU KNOW SOMETHING WE DON'T??? Ok, ok, ok, moving on.

“You weren’t going to leave before your brother even got to the stage.

You MIGHT get kicked out before then though, you thought to yourself, glaring as another random hand smacked your ass as they walked past you.”

AGAIN, you always make your female MCs feisty and I am here for it!!! I know these are reader inserts, but I rarely ever see myself in them, if that makes sense? I still form a mental image of these main characters and I love how you are able to flesh them out so well without giving in depth descriptions (which is not ideal for reader insert fics, you know?) And I love that they stand up for themselves, no doormats here!

“You look up to find an incredibly handsome, and very tall, guy looking down at you, dimples on full display. He was dressed in all black. From the black skinny jeans that encased his long legs, to his black snapback on top of his bleached blonde hair.”

LAAAAWWWDD!!! I have a very clear memory of the rap line doing Cypher Part 1. Hobi looking like he was prepping for Mic Drop with his fit, Yoongi was blond, snapback, ripped jeans, bomber jacket, and his Straigh Outta Daegu attitude. And Joon...he had that undercut, kinda silvery blond hair, a simple beige t shirt, and black shorts. THAT’S THE JOONIE I PICTURE IN THIS FIC!!

“And your rap name is?”...

“It’s Rap monster.”

“Huh. Well, it’s not the WORST I’ve heard. Remember Llama guy? His name was MC McGriddle. I finally convinced him that it would be in his best interests to change his name. He finally did. Now he’s Hilbo Haggins. I don’t think he understands the concept of copyrights.” You smiled over at him.”

HILBO HAGGINS!! I am literally in tears. And is that Hobi??? Is it? Cuz if it is I will hereby stop calling him Hobert and refer to him only as Hilbo! Wait no...Hilbo reminds me of Himbo. Who is the biggest Himbo rapper I know, hmmmm…..OFC, MATTHEW! The big tiddy man himself. Ok, new theory. Hilbo is BM from Kard, and no, you cannot convince me it is not Matthew!

The first time between Joon and our girl is so damn hot and tender at the same time. Joonie is, of course, the perfect gentleman, invested in our girl’s pleasure just as much as his. And then…

“I can hear you overthinking.” He chuckles into your hair. He leans back and tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“So what’s it going to be? Am I staying the night or do you want me to leave?”

You look at him shyly, and bury your face into his chest, mumbling, “Stay…please.”

“Good, because we obviously really like each other, and I wasn’t ready to leave. Give me twenty minutes to rehydrate and we’re going for round two.”

“I’ll never survive!” You squeak out, as he laughs and picks you up, carrying you to the kitchen.

AAHHHH!!!

“You watch the rise and fall of his chest, letting your mind ponder the situation you’ve found yourself in as you drift off to sleep. The only conclusion your exhausted mind can reach is faith. It’s time to let yourself believe in someone. You’re probably an idiot for it, but you’re going to put your faith in this man named Namjoon.”

This is incredibly romantic and scary at the same time. Putting your faith in someone, being vulnerable with someone, is so damn scary! It is a huge leap of faith. I can feel the angst coming!!!

The little snippets of them together in chapter 2 are so damn cute! I am on the verge of tears! When Joon calls himself a dad because she got a puppy, saying he wouldn't let her be a single parent, omg that was so cute!!! UUggh so fluffy.

And then...

WAIT

WAAAAIIITTTT

I just got it. The foreshadowing. Excuse me, I need to go cry in the corner for a bit, be back in three business days. This is like the tenth time I’ve read this story and I was today years old when I realized. It hurts, thanks! *finger guns*

Anyways, more cuteness please!! The peanut butter in the fridge, his apology, Joon befriending her brother, so freaking domestic. I cannot!!! And then, the emotional whiplash:

“You watch him over dinner, excitedly talking about his plans for the future (with a full mouth), and you slowly start to realize…you could never tell him. This was his chance. With his level of talent, you were sure he would be at the top in no time. You were going to have to set him free, so he could achieve his dreams, without worrying about you or what was soon to come.”

NO GURL NO!!! DON’T DO IT! TELL HIM OR I WILL. TELL HIMMMM!!!!

“Namjoon pulls off your shirt and expertly unhooks your bra (Heh)”

We, as a fandom, have decided to erase all memory of that particular song! Because we have deleted all information stored in our collective memory about that song, I do not understand this reference. Thanks! Lmao

AND THEN YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO NAME THE BABY FAITH??? So, my feelings don’t matter to you? My personal well being is not a priority for you? Noted. Not like I can do anything about it. What am I going to do, stop reading your stories? Bwahahaha that ain’t gonna happen. I guess I’m a masochist cuz here comes chapter 3…

Their reunion was freaking amazing. I thought he'd be mad or that his anger would turn into hate, but it seems our boi is even more in love with our MC than he was before. The looks across the room, toying with her fishnets, the flirting, the back and forth, the ride to Jack-in-the-Box. Talk about foreplay!!! And then the culmination inside the Jack-in-the-Box bathroom! Woooooooo! And she still hasn’t told him about the baby?!?!?

“If the two of you had gotten into a fight, Namjoon would drag you there to sit and talk things out.”

This is so spot on, Joonie would!

“Tell me what happened. Tell me why everything changed. Tell me why you didn’t want me anymore.” Namjoon whispers, his voice laced with pain.”

NO, NOPE, NOT TODAY SATAN. I CAN’T. I’M CRYING. I’M CURRENTLY SITTING IN MY CRYING CORNER ABSOLUTELY BAWLING!!

“You lose yourself in the familiar feel of his soft, plump lips moving tenderly against yours. If there was one thing that Kim Namjoon was better at than rapping, it was kissing. He always kissed you like he was worshipping you with his lips and he could happily do it forever.”

I feel this in my bones!!! Joonie would be the type to take his time too! And with those lips! Dayum…

I think I am done for today, my heart can’t take any more!!!

Tomorrow we will finish this story!

Now that I picture Matthew as that rapper, I can’t get it out of my head! Totally canon lmao.

#Anonymous

6 notes · View notes

my-arlington-academia · 3 years

Text

Claire gilets jaunes AU fic 🦺

Hey guys... I’m so sorry this is the first thing I write when I come back dbhedjdheudh

It’s a joke fic... IN FRENCH!!!

Claire invites her friends to her parents' villa in France but at the same time, protests start in the streets of Paris.

Normally, my vocabulary should be more developed in French so let’s see how that turns out 😂

(If you guys don’t know what "gilets jaunes" are... look it up, especially on youtube ajvrhdjrhhfhdhd)

------------------------------

Cela faisait déjà quelques jours maintenant que Claire avait invité ses amis dans la villa de ses parents, située dans la banlieue parisienne. Ils en avaient également près de la mer méditerranée, à Marseille et Nice, mais la majorité du groupe a voté pour un séjour à Paris. Claire attendait impatiemment le reste du groupe, elle avait bien sûr envoyé des majordomes et chauffeurs à l’aéroport pour les derniers arrivants: Karolina et Tegan. Tyler surtout, se tortillait, excité de revoir son meilleur ami malgré le fait que cela ne faisait que quelques semaines qu’ils ne s’étaient plus vus. Scholar et Alistair de leur côté étaient plutôt nerveux, ils savaient que le reste du groupe a voté pour Paris seulement parce qu’ils n’y avaient jamais été. Karolina elle, il n’y avait pas de doute, était enragée à l’idée de passer une semaine dans la région de l'île-de-France au lieu de la côte d’Azur. Et en effet, elle à remis ses idées sur la table en arrivant... même si tout le monde savait déjà exactement ce qu’elle pensait.

"J’arrive pas à CROIRE que vous avez voté pour Paris, c’est la ville la plus surcotée de l’Europe! Je sais que vous avez fait ça pour Alistair et Scholar mais vous abusez, on aurait pu être sous le soleil de juillet à Marseille et à la place on a quoi? Des rues qui sentent la pisse et une tour."

Tegan et Tyler se sont regardé... puis ils se sont souris d’un sourire qui ne dit rien qui aille. Tegan a attrapé sa sœur par ses bras et Tyler par ses jambes. Raquel, comprenant ce qui était en train de se passer, ouvra rapidement la porte du jardin. En un flash, Tegan et Tyler ont jeté Karolina dans la piscine. Les deux amis se tordaient de rire avant que Tyler se reprenne, Tegan lui, rigolait si fort qu’il faisait des bruits digne d’un dauphin.

"On s’excuse votre Altesse Karolina du Royaume de Prague. Mais puis-je dire que vous êtes incroyablement ravissante sous ce soleil de juillet?"

"Tyler, je te jure qu’un jour je vais te niquer ta-"

"Sssshhhh! Pas de gros mots jeune fille. Si tu restes calme je t’inviterait à San Francisco."

Ça a pris tout le sang-froid du monde à Karolina pour qu’elle se retienne de lui attraper la jambe et de le lancer dans la piscine à son tour. Elle savait que son mascara avait coulé, ces merdes ont toujours la mention "waterproof" mais ne le sont jamais. Par complicité, Neha se lança de son plein grès dans la piscine, éclaboussant Tegan et Tyler au passage. Après quelques minutes, elles se sont toutes les deux relevés, en direction de la salle de bain pour prendre une douche et se débarrasser de la puanteur insupportable du chlore. Pendant ce temps, Tyler mettait du Maître Gims sur son baffle.

"Woooooooo!!! Il faut qu’on se mette dans le mood français! Soyez pas timides!!! C’ÉTAIT UN PHÉNOMÈNE, ELLE N’ÉTAIT PAS HUMAINE, LE GENRE DE FEMME QUI CHANGE LE PLUS GRAND DÉLINQUENT EN GENTLEMEN-"

Il chantait assez bien les paroles, Tyler ne mentait pas quand il disait qu’il a un bon niveau en français. Claire s’est retenue de dire à Tyler que plus personne n’écoutait du Maître Gims ces derniers temps. Les chansons étaient aussi bien qu’avant mais comme tous les artistes, il avait déjà connu son moment de gloire. Maintenant les francophones n’écoutaient plus que Angèle, Niska et... non en fait Claire n’en était pas sûre non plus. Elle n’était pas du genre à suivre les médias, qui sait? Peut-être que Gims était revenu sur le devant de la scène et elle n’en avait aucune idée. Tout allait parfaitement bien avant qu'Axel tourne l’attention du groupe vers la télé que personne ne semblait regarder. Sur l’écran, il y avait une horde de gens qui lançait des pierres sur des voitures de police. Claire les reconnu tout de suite.

"Ah! C'est les gilets jaunes. Ils font la grève contre euh... Macron. Mais je sais pas trop ce qui se passe dans les détails, désolé..."

À ce moment précis, Neha et Karolina sont sorties de la douche. Est-ce qu’elles avaient pris la douche ensemble...? Qui sait. En tout cas, Karolina n’était pas ravie.

"Ah mais c'est super. Donc non seulement nous sommes à Paris mais en plus les rues seront pleines de manifestants? C’est merveilleux. J’aurai encore préféré aller à Bruxelles pour manger des gaufres sous la pluie."

Heureusement (ou malheureusement), Raquel eut une idée. Un petit peu à côté de la plaque mais merveilleuse quand même.

"Et si... on allait manifester aussi?"

Les yeux de Claire se sont illuminés, elle n’avait jamais osé le dire, mais au fond d’elle le sang d’une française bouillonnait de l’envie de tabasser la gueule de la police avec des cailloux. C'était pas très orthodoxe mais elle ne pouvait ignorer ses instincts naturels. La haine envers le gouvernement était gravé dans son ADN... oui, la France... ce pays magnifique où les gens au pouvoir se font décapiter.

"Oui!!! Enfin... Je veux dire... ça pourrait être chouette. Si on marche à travers Paris avec le point de vue d’un touriste, ça va vite devenir un inconvénient. Mais si on décide de faire parti des manifestants... Ça pourrait non seulement aider le peuple français mais en plus on pourra profiter de notre séjour au maximum!!!"

Vue le ton qu’elle prenait, c'était clair que Claire s’en battait les couilles du peuple. Elle voulait juste péter la gueule d’un policier. Tadashi n’était cependant pas convaincu de cette idée. Il a donc demandé de faire un vote à main levé et bien sûr, la majorité était pour.

"Bon... Je vois que vous voulez absolument foutre la merde partout où vous allez donc je veux bien mettre un gilet jaune mais je refuse de participer à la grève. Je resterai derrière la foule."

Ne perdant pas de temps, Axel lui rétorqua son commentaire comme d’habitude.

"Et c'est toi qui dit ça, Tas-de-merde? Si je connais quelqu’un qui aime foutre la merde, c'est bien toi mon pote."

"Je suis pas ton "pote" Axel. Et non, je ne fous pas la merde, je vous tiens juste à carreaux. C'est tout."

"Ah ouais? Tu vas nous mettre des colles en France aussi?"

Si ça continue comme ça, c'est Tadashi qui va se faire exécuter. Son tempérament et son envie de maîtriser tout autour de lui pourrait ultimement mener à sa fin si il vivait en France.

"Enfin bref, si Tadachieur vient, tout le monde vient. Pas d’excuses."

Claire a demandé aux chauffeurs de les déposer non loin des Champs-Elysées, ils se sont facilement procurés des gilets jaunes, certains manifestants en donnaient même gratuitement. Quant aux Champs-Elysées... c'était le carnage. Des milliers de gens qui se lancent sur les policiers, détruisent les panneaux, les lampadaires, les voitures, tout. Du coin de l’œil, il y avait parfois des explosions non loin de l’avenue. Dans la folie du moment, Claire et ses amis se sont mis au boulot.

Tegan montait sur des lampadaires avec l’aide des ouvriers qui manifestaient, ils avaient des camions et des échelles. Il prenait des photos de la pagaille et quand il est redescendu, il a hacké quelques sites du gouvernement français, il y mettait les photos qu’il a pris avec le hashtag "PoliceLivesDon’tMatter."

Tyler pendant ce temps, est devenu ami avec des artistes de rues, il commença à taguer des belles grosses bites sur les murs des bâtiments.

Karolina et Neha rentraient illégalement dans des bâtiment à travers les vitres cassées pour admirer les architectures haussmanniennes. Elles ont commencé à prendre des photos pour leurs instagrams avec leurs gilets jaunes. Karolina s’est accroupie sur une des photos, prenant la pose stéréotypée des barakis slaves.

Axel avait emprunté une guitare et un micro à l’un des manifestant, il chantait "AUXXXXX CHAMPS-ELYSÉÉÉÉES!!!" du haut d’une voiture comme un dingue. Des centaines de personnes l’ont rejoint. Ce concert improvisé était finalement devenu la chanson des gilets jaune.

Ellie, avec l’assistance de quelques ouvriers, avait réussi à mettre en panne les voitures des policiers. Elle a ensuite rejoint le tas de gens en lançant des pierres sur les voitures immobiles. Les manifestants étaient très contents de son intervention, ils l’ont alors porté sur leurs épaules pour qu’elle puisse mieux lancer les pierres. Ils pensaient sûrement que c'était une enfant de 12 ans mais qu’importe...

Alistair et Raquel utilisaient leurs arts martiaux sur les policiers. C'était enfin temps de voir si ces techniques fonctionnent dans une vraie bagarre. Coach D avait une fois dit "n’utilisez pas votre force dans un combat sans un arbitre" mais il avait TORT. Péter la gueule d’un policier était bien mieux que de protéger des valeurs inutiles.

Scholar de son côté ne savait pas trop quoi faire alors elle filmait la scène du haut d’un bâtiment pour envoyer la vidéo à son père et ses amis. Elle y faisait ses propres commentaires, surtout quand elle zoomait sur le match de Raquel et Alistair contre les policiers français.

"Du taekwondo?! Non, du judo!?!? AAAAAHH! C’EST DU MMA!!!"

Tadashi regardait la scène partir en flammes... littéralement. Il voulait appeler la police mais le seul problème était que la police était DÉJÀ là. Ils étaient impuissants devant la rage du peuple, c'était un combat perdu d’avance... Et puis merde. Tadashi est rentré dans des supermarchés ravagés, voulant vider les caisses. Un petit cambriolage n’a jamais fait de mal a personne.

Sortant d’un des bâtiments en feu, c'était Claire avec une bouteille d’alcool et des allumettes. Malheureusement, elle ne savait pas où se procurer des bouteilles d’essence. Elle en demanda plusieurs à un de ses majordomes. Claire s’est trouvée un nouveau passe-temps favori: provoquer des incendies!!! Voir les bâtiments partir en flammes lui donnait l’impression d’être en 1789, la révolution française! Wow! Un moment historique était en train de se produire devant ses yeux! Bientôt des véhicules avec le logo de "France 24" sont venus sur place pour filmer ce chaos. Ils étaient sûrement en direct. Claire s’avança d’un pas décidé vers la femme qui parlait devant la caméra et elle lui arracha le micro des mains.

"HÉ MACRON TU M’ENTENDS? APRÈS AVOIR BAISÉ TA COUGUAR DE PROF TU BAISES LA FRANCE MAINTENANT?! TU VAS VOIR ON VA T’ENCULER MON POTE. T'AURAS TELLEMENT MAL AU CUL QUE TU POURRAS PLUS DE RELEVER À CAUSE DES RECTORRAGIES."

Claire renda poliment le micro à la femme qui était dans un état second après s’étre faite niqué les tympans.

"J’adore votre manteau! Vous l’avez acheté à H&M?"

"Non... À Bershka..."

Claire s’aperçu du fait que ses majordomes revenaient avec des bidons d’essences et elle s’éclipsa aussitôt.

"Woah! C’est merveilleux. Passez une bonne journée!"

Il était peut-être grand temps d’aller brûler la Mairie.

#sweet elite #se #main 10 #claire durand #fanfics #I’m so sorry guys #(no I’m not 😂)#there will most likely be some mistakes here and there because I didn’t triple check my writing #gilets jaunes AU

9 notes · View notes

intheticklecloset · 4 years

Text

We Made It! (And Fic Requests are OPEN!)

2021 IS FINALLY HERE!! I’ve never been so happy to wish everyone a Happy New Year! Woooooooo!

As of today MHA fic requests are OPEN!! I love the crap out of this fandom so much; I’d love to have some suggestions! I reserve the right to pick and choose which requests I fill (don’t worry; I’ll probably do most of them!).

Why only MHA you may ask? Long story short, I still love Invader Zim and do want to write more fics for the fandom, but I’m not in the mood to take requests for it at the moment. As for Hazbin Hotel / Helluva Boss...I may need to write a more detailed explanation later, but suffice it to say that while both shows have me mildly fascinated, they truly aren’t my favorite things, and I found during the 12 Days that - with some exceptions - I didn’t really enjoy writing for them like I did when they were still new to me. Sorry; I know lots of new people followed me when I was writing for them. But for the forseeable future, they’re on the back burner. I appreciate your understanding.

That said, HIT ME UP FOR MHA!! Requests are open!! :D

#fanfiction #tickle fic #requests #asks #prompts #open #happy new year

11 notes · View notes

crackimagines · 4 years

Text

Monastery of Angels (FE: Three Houses Short Fic)

Trails Of Cold Steel 3H AU Masterlist

Due to complications with the White Heron Cup, they are unable to host a dancing competition. The Monastery staff rushes to find a suitable replacement, and settle on a opera-like performance. Deciding to have the most interesting choice to make this year memorable, they decide to choose two polar opposites to sing.

Instructor Sara, chronic alcoholic and the laziest staff member of Garreg Mach.

Seteth, the most uptight and square person at Garreg Mach.

And they both despise each other.

Even if the performance ends with a catastrophic result, it would at least do the job of being a memorable year for the students.

------

Rean, Elliot, and Annette walked down the dorm’s rooms together, discussing various things ranging from schoolwork to plans for the remainder of the day.

(Annette) “I’m so bummed out they had to cancel the White Heron Cup, I was looking forward to it! I don’t know what to do because I was going to practice dancing.”

(Elliot) “Oh, the Blue Lions decided on Annette?”

(Rean) “Yeah, it was either that or Mercedes, but she insisted on Annette. Though, I guess all those plans went out the window. Did the Golden Deers decide on anyone?”

(Elliot) “We were going to choose Leonie I think. The other girls in the group didn’t want to do it. I think I was about to be the one dancing but, hah I’m glad I wasn’t!”

(Annette) “Are we even going to be doing anything on that day now?”

- They sat on the benches near the lake and greenhouse, continuing their conversation.

(Rean) “Who knows? The announcement was just made yesterday and we still got a week before it happens. I doubt they could find anything in time.”

(Sharon) “Oh, I wouldn’t doubt them that much Master Rean!”

(Rean) “WOAH!”

All of them jumped hearing a voice above them. Sharon was looking over the railing with a smile.

(Annette) “EEK!”

(Elliot) “AH! O-Oh, Sharon!”

(Annette) “When were you there?!”

(Sharon) “Just now, I apologize for startling you all! I actually was looking for Elliot!”

(Elliot) “For what?”

(Sharon) “The staff requires your musical expertise! We were originally going to send the Golden Deer’s retainer, but she wouldn’t be as fast!”

(Rean) “More like she wouldn’t get here at all...”

(Elliot) “Well, all right then. I’m honestly not sure how much of a help I can be since I play only the violin.”

(Sharon) “I bid you all a good day.”

She nodded with her head and vanished behind the railing once again. Elliot waved goodbye to the two and left with Sharon.

(Annette) “How does she keep appearing out of nowhere like that?”

(Rean) “Frankly, I’m not sure I want the answer...”

Garreg Mach’s Faculty Room, 10 minutes earlier...

(Manuela) “A musical performance? My, that’s an excellent idea!”

(Hanneman) “I agree, it could be an enticing experience!”

(Jeralt) “Oh goddess, it’s not going to be a sappy love opera, is it?”

(Catherine) “Come on, nothing like a good romance tale to spark up the tears! It’ll get all the emotional students crying, and it’d be funny!”

(Shamir) “I’m not opposed to it. Can’t say I’d be interested though.”

(Seteth) “Well, it’s only a suggestion. Lady Rhea says we are to do as we see fit.”

(Byleth) “Who’s going to be our singers? Dorothea and Manuela seem to be an obvious choice.”

(Sara) “If I remember correctly, Emma from my class was about to sing before we got transported here. Maybe we can pester her to get to singing?”

(Towa) “I-I guess worse case scenario, Angelica, Crow, and I could get on stage like last year.”

(Flayn) “May I make a recommendation?”

(Angelica) “Sure kiddo. What’s on your mind?”

(Flayn) “Sara and Seteth could perform on stage! Two lovers entering the stagelights together!”

(Seteth) “WHAT?! E-Er...Flayn, I explained this before, Sara and I are co-workers. We’re not actually engaged.”

(Sara) “Psh, why keep it a secret anymore, Seteth?”

(Seteth) “SHUT. UP.”

(Sara) “In all seriousness Flayn, I’ve never sang for an audience in my life. Doubt Seteth has either.”

(Jeralt) “You two doing a musical...hell, that’s something I’d pay to watch!”

(Byleth) “Agreed.”

(Shamir) “This sounds like a horrible idea. I’m in.”

(Manuela) “Hoho, so it’s decided then?”

Sara’s smile went away as Seteth’s eyes started to widen.

(Hanneman) “This will certainly provide an interesting result, whether or not their performances are absolutely horrid.”

(Seteth) “ABSOLUTELY NOT! I reject to this!”

(Sara) “Same here! I am NOT singing with some old fart!”

The door opened and everyone suddenly went quiet.

(Rhea) “I heard screaming from down the hall. Is everything alright?”

(Seteth) “L-Lady Rhea! I apologize for the commotion. In brief, they are recommending a musical performance with Valestein and I front and center together! It’s a bad plan, you must agree!”

(Rhea) “And who was the one who suggested it?”

(Flayn) “It was me, Lady Rhea. Our job is to create an interesting year for the students. correct? I thought this line of action would be sufficient enough for that requirement!”

(Seteth) “I apologize for her abhorrent idea.”

(Rhea) “I absolutely agree. This is a terrible idea-”

(Sara) “Oh thank Adios.”

(Rhea) “A terrible idea I would like to see come true as well.”

(Seteth) “HUH?!”

Rhea smiled at the two.

(Rhea) “If you are not to agree willingly, then I order you as Archbishop to sing with Instructor Valestein. The order goes to you as well, Sara.”

(Seteth) “B-But...!” sigh “As you wish, Lady Rhea. Please excuse me.”

Seteth left the room. Sara quickly followed out the door and headed straight for the bar.

(Shamir) “Wow, you DO have a sense of humor.”

(Catherine) “Hey, don’t speak like that to her!”

(Jeralt) “Oh man, this is gonna be a good time.”

(Byleth) snrk “I’ll uh, talk with Sara to make sure she’s sober enough to teach tomorrow.”

(Manuela) “Towa, can you get your maid to gather the most musically talented of Class VII? I must speak with Dorothea in writing our song!”

(Towa) “You got it, Manuela! Come on Angelica!”

(Flayn) “I wonder why they act as if they hate each other?”

(Hanneman) “Er...-”

(Manuela) “Don’t you DARE tell her!”

(Flayn) ???

Next week, day of the performance...

Manuela and Dorothea poured all their strength into writing the song that the two would perform, and afterwards gathered the students who could play musical instruments together.

After several rehearsals and days of hangover, the day of reckoning had arrived.

(Rhea) “It is my regret that due to complications, we are unable to perform with the White Heron Cup. However, we have brought in a substitute that I hope is satisfactory to make up for this unfortunate circumstance. A musical performance by our students and staff of the academy!”

Everyone clapped gently and watched as everyone got into positions.

(Manuela) “Oh, this is it Dorothea! Our genius coming to life!”

(Dorothea) “They better do this right, or I’m killing them!”

(Elliot) “Hah, I doubt their pride would let them fail!”

(Dorothea) “Come on, Ellie! This is THOSE two we’re talking about!”

(Emma) “Oh, here they come!”

Class VII and several of the staff in the audience began clapping and cheering, in a mocking but loving way.

(Rean) “You got this instructor!”

(Alisa) “Knock ‘em dead!”

(Millium) “WOOOOOOOO! SARAAAAAAA!”’

(Laura) “I’ve never seen a musical before, and I doubt THIS would be a good representation of one.”

(Jeralt) “Make this entertaining will ya?”

(Byleth) “I made bets with the mercs to say that this will end terribly!”

(Jeralt) “That’s my boy!”

(Machias) “100 mira says that blood’s gonna spill.”

(Sharon) “200 says we have to clean up the mess!”

(Fie) “I’ll take those odds.”

(Jusis) “Whose idea even was this?”

(Towa) “It was Flayn’s...I can’t say I agree that it’s a good plan though.”

(Angelica) “It’ll be funny at least!”

(Hanneman) “While I agree, you shouldn’t doubt Manuela and Dorothea’s musical capabilities. I’m sure we’re in for a surprise!”

(Catherine) “Crap, how much is Byleth betting?”

(Shamir) “100 gold I think. We should get the coins in before the song starts.”

Meanwhile, Sara and Seteth were standing next to each other, looking at the audience.

(Seteth) “This is just a fine mess you got us into!”

(Sara) “Psh, how is this MY fault?!”

(Seteth) “Oh I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact YOU SAID TO FLAYN YOU WERE GOING TO MARRY ME?!”

(Sara) “Don’t you yell at me you old sonuvabitch! You should be lucky people other than Flayn suddenly pay attention to you! Thanks to my little joke, you’re able to even be in the spotlight!”

(Seteth) “AS IF IT’S SOMETHING TO BRAG ABOUT BEING WITH YOU! YOU’D BE WASTING AWAY IN THE BARS IF IT WERE NOT FOR ME AND LADY RHEA GIVING YOU THIS JOB! ONCE THIS IS OVER, FIND A MAN YOU CAN MARRY AND LEECH OFF OF, YOU ALCOHOLIC WENCH!”

(Sara) “HOW ABOUT I MARRY MY FOOT TO YOUR FACE, JACKASS?!”

(Seteth) “I’D LIKE YO SEE YOU TRY!”

Sara and Seteth grabbed each other’s collar ready to kill. Both rolling up their fists to punch.

When the curtains finally rolled back, most of the audience saw that they were about to murder each other. They quickly let go and cleared their throats.

(Flayn) “I wonder what love song Dorothea and Manuela wrote?”

(Manuela) “Band...BEGIN!”

---

[You’re Nothing Without Me - City of Angels]

(Seteth)

You are some gumshoe,

You just don’t think well

Get this straight Valestein,

You can go straight to hell!

Is your mouth lonely,

With one foot in there?

Sara your brain only holds thoughts I put in there!

Just, what you are I’ll spell out:

You, are a major pain!

One speck of lint that fell out,

The last time that I picked my brain!

(Sara)

You are so jealous

Of my fight record!

Seteth do tell us your feeble hack record

Your weak knees brand you,

Soft and unstable!

One small threat,

And you fold like a card table!

You, drool at my adventures!

Your, broads in bed are bored!

Go, home and soak your dentures,

Your sword is no match for my gun!

(Sara/Seteth)

You're nothing!

Without me!

A no-one who'd go undefined!

You wouldn't exist,

You'd never be missed!

I tell you you're out of my mind!

A show off!

A blowhard!

You're equal parts hot air and gall!

And no one would doubt me,

Without me you're nothing at all!

(Seteth)

You're in my house,

I'm still your employer,

I call each shot,

I'm your private dic-tator!

(Sara)

You are so thick, you,

Eat, breathe, sleep fiction!

I'm your meal ticket,

Knee-deep in cheap fiction!

(Seteth)

You, gloating ignoramus!

You, haven’t any shame!

(Sara)

Hey, I’m a famous-shamus!

And most people don’t your name!

(Seteth) “Drunk.”

(Sara) “Uptight.”

(Seteth) “Child!”

(Sara) “Old man!”

(Seteth)

“BITCH!”

(Sara)

“ASSHOLE!”

(Sara/Seteth)

You’re nothing!

Without me!

Without me you’d just disappear!

Right into thin air,

And no one would care,

Or notice you ever were here!

A puppet!

An upstart!

A loser who's destined to fall!

I'm everything you always wanted to be!

Let's deal with the issue:

You wish you were me!

You're nothing without me!

Without me you're nothiiiiiiiiiing,

AT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL!

---

Sara and Seteth were ready to go back to murdering each other before hearing a thunderous applause.

(Manuela) “GODDESS, WE DID IT DOROTHEA!”

(Dorothea) “HOLD ME! HAHAHAA-”

(Elliot) “That was a lot of fun...I-If not scary.”

(Emma) “We performed this so many times but it sounded like they didn’t even need the script to sing their hatred!”

(Flayn) “...That wasn’t a love song at all!”

(Catherine) “Ooooh crap. We owe Byleth money.”

(Shamir) “Good thing I betted for her.”

(Catherine) “YOU TRAITOR!”

(Byleth) “Hah, got some good cash tonight!”

(Jeralt) “Son of a...I lost to my own kid in a gamble...”

(Fie) “Hah, I got some Mira from you, Machias!”

(Machias) “Damn it!”

(Rean) “That was amazing! Good job you guys!”

Sara and Seteth bowed before heading out of the room.

(Sara) “Hmph. Not bad, considering it’s you.”

(Seteth) “I could say the same. Now, let us never speak of this again.”

(Sara) “Agreed. I’m going to drink myself to death tonight to forget all about this.”

(Seteth) “Please do...”

They both went their separate ways for that night. Seteth was found in his room face first into his pillow by Flayn while Sara was carried home by Byleth after being too drunk.

21 notes · View notes

autisticlalna · 5 years

Text

you’re a ticking time bomb

LADS.......... IT’S HERE.

this is pretty long but i couldnt really find a place to split it up into chapters so,,, sorry bout that! also i recommend listening to “time bomb” for the second fight scene bc woooOOOOO

this is a sequel to “fences” and also has a lot of references to “power surge”! and also is like 1/2 fight scenes so that’s certainly an experience

Jigsaw finally gets what’s coming to him. it’s not fun for anyone involved.

previous fics with shadoc: how to kill a shadow / power surge / detonator (part 1 / part 2) / false disposition / jump over fences and cut up our knees

CONTENT WARNINGS: emotional manipulation, Jigsaw being especially awful, descriptions of injury/violence, temporary character death, impalement, a pretty awful way to die

Being in the shopping district was always a bit of a risk for Shadoc. He’d avoided it like the plague the first time he’d been able to roam free, and his instinct was still to stay as far away from it as possible; even without going near Cherry Computers, there was still the Hermit Rail Network terminal and various other shops and buildings outfitted with redstone that he had to give a wide berth to.

Originally, it had been because of his… well, phobia wasn’t exactly the right word, but he wasn’t sure what was. Now, after Sahara, it was so he didn’t risk demolishing anything else.

But… he’d heard Cleo complaining about needing something from the shopping district, but still being too disoriented from being cured of her zombie-ness to leave her ship just yet. Her crew practically had her under house arrest, just… with a boat instead of a house. Boat arrest? Cleo was under boat arrest. And, hey, Shadoc was running errands for Keralis and Bdubs a lot anyway, the least he could do was help Cleo out considering she was kind enough to give him a place to stay.

Cleo hadn’t been too happy about the idea, but her own shadow’s main method of helping was to make a mess of things and sit by all innocent while her summoner was forced to put back the armor stands or whatever else Phas had made her target. So, with her crew being focused on keeping her safe and healthy (and reminding her that humans weren’t exactly as durable as zombies), that left Shadoc as the only option. He promised he’d be back soon, that it wasn’t like any of the nighttime monsters could or would hurt him anyway, and that he’d be as careful as possible.

He knew and understood why she was worried, though. The Sahara incident was still fresh in everyone’s minds— he still hadn’t told any of the hermits besides his own summoner about his power, but the reason Cleo had “adopted” him in the first place was because of Mumbo reaching out to her after he’d fled the scene; as a result, she was just as cautious as Doc when it came to the topic of exposing him to redstone in any context. That wasn’t the only reason for her to object to the idea, though.

Cleo was worried because the last time Shadoc had been out on his own, he’d died.

Only two things could kill a shadow: their summoner, and another shadow. Doc had sworn off the first one. Most of the other shadows left him alone or pitied him. Murmur had dedicated himself to protecting him just as fiercely as he protected Mumbo, and all of the hermits knew to either give him space or to keep an eye on him depending on the situation. With all of these factors, the risk of Shadoc dying should’ve been at an absolute minimum…

...but he’d messed up. Acted without thinking. Threw himself at the other shadow without even considering the fact that even if he had more raw physical strength, he was still no match for an enchanted sword—

Ah. Shadoc blinked as he became aware of his surroundings again. This wasn’t the first time he’d dissociated only to realize he’d wandered off course, especially during an errand; usually he walked into a tree, or something equally silly, but most of the time he came to before anything happened. Normally this would be where he would shrug, get himself back on course, and apologise to Cleo for taking so long.

Instead, he was standing in front of Sahara.

The massive building was almost fully repaired, or at least on the outside; Shadoc hadn’t been near it since the incident, and he knew for a fact that there was no way he’d be able to take a single step inside without panic overwhelming him. Not even because of redstone, this time— instead he kept finding himself thinking about seeing Mumbo and Iskall and Murmur afraid of for him, about Iskall’s injury, about the Architechs forgiving him because he’d been too much of a coward to tell them that he’d caused it, about—

The shulker box Cleo had given him felt heavy in his arms all of a sudden. Shadoc set it down with a loud thump that broke the silence of the night, then after a moment he sat down on it and stared up at the building with a blank expression. He’d promised Doc that, if he ever had another… episode… he would tell the Architechs the truth, or else Doc would do it for him. All of the hermits (especially Mumbo) were far more cautious about his safety now, though, and Cleo had dedicated herself to teaching Shadoc several ways to manage his rising panic whenever he felt like he was in danger; the breathing exercises were a bit silly in concept, considering he didn’t need to breathe, but he found the repetitive counting reassuring when he was at the brink.

“One, two, three, four,” Shadoc said under his breath. Breathe in— one, two, three, four. Hold— one, two, three, four. Breathe out— one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Wait— one, two, three, four. “One, two, three, four…”

“Oh hey! It’s you.”

Shadoc snapped to attention. There, sitting on the roof, legs crossed, was none other than Grian’s shadow. His eyes widened in shock as Jigsaw giggled; the jumper-wearing shadow dangled his legs over the edge and kicked them aimlessly as he looked down at the other from his vantage point. “So Doc did resummon you! Interesting~” He held a hand up to hide his mouth as he giggled. “I wonder how he felt when Murmur told him you died? Guilty, I bet~”

Fear and guilt stabbed through Shadoc like the sword Jigsaw had used during their last meeting. His hand went to his side, half-expecting to still feel the wound there; Jigsaw laughed, sounding genuinely pleased at his reaction. “It’s such a shame you died so fast! Murmur was crying so hard, he thought you were gone forever~ Some hero you are!” He tsked. “I just wanted to make him feel bad, wasn’t even going to hurt him too much… and here comes Good Guy Shadoc, thinking he can make a big scene! That punch hurt.” Shadoc couldn’t help but feel a tiny surge of pride as Jigsaw rubbed his cheek where his punch had connected.

Jigsaw leaned backwards and vanished into the flat surface of the roof. Shadoc tensed as he saw the silhouette swing down from his perch; Jigsaw’s eyes opened, shining gold against flat black, then the shadow re-emerged like he was strolling through a doorway. “Here’s the problem with good guys, though.” Jigsaw smirked. “The only thing they’re good for is being targets.”

“Are you just here to talk at me?” Shadoc asked. His voice was surprisingly steady; quietly, he was grateful for that— he didn’t want to show weakness, didn’t want to give Jigsaw any opening to dig into him further. Were any of the hermits nearby? He didn’t have whatever skill allowed Apex to track down players and shadows alike, but he didn’t need it to know that the shopping district was barren at this time of night. No one was around to help— but it wasn’t like anyone but Grian would be able to do anything to Jigsaw.

It was just the two of them.

“I’m just saying,” Jigsaw said in a casual tone, “you made everything worse for your dear ol’ friend by getting involved. I would’ve just played with him a little, then left him alone— but then you showed up.” His smirk dropped into a dangerous scowl. “You made a mess of everything! Everyone always feels like they can just walk up and spoil my games! It sucks.” Another mood switch, this time to murderous glee: “But then I realized: Murmur likes you! Murmur likes you a lot. So if you wanted to be part of my game, well…”

In the darkness of the dead of night, Jigsaw’s golden eyes shined bright. Shadoc froze as they pierced into him; Jigsaw’s words echoed in his ears, overwhelming everything, dragging him down—

“…It wasn’t like I could stop you! And it was so fun seeing Murmur break into itty bitty pieces~”

[ Shadoc didn’t know what to do.

Ever since Mumbo had been rescued from being kidnapped by Jigsaw, the redstone enthusiast’s shadow had been beyond stressed. It was hard for even the other hermits to get near him; at even the slightest indication of a threat, Murmur would get defensive and, if they didn’t back off, aggressive. Grian especially had been sent packing with a few bruises before he started to take Murmur’s warnings seriously. The friendliest shadow on the server had taken a hard turn into being one of the most aggressive.

Murmur had never lashed out at Shadoc, though. He’d gotten close, but that was about it— just a sharp glare, a static hiss, and then immediately horrified and apologetic once he’d recognized him. Shadoc had felt something deep inside him hurt at that. Not because of Murmur— he’d made that clear, had told his closest friend over and over that that hadn’t changed, that he understood, that he was here if Murmur needed him— but because of why Murmur felt like he had to act like a guard dog in the first place. Because of why the normally peaceful shadow was unable to trust anyone anymore.

Shadoc hadn’t been there. Everything he knew about the situation was second-hand from Murmur, from Grian, from Iskall, from Scar, and eventually from Mumbo himself: Grian’s shadow had kidnapped Mumbo, shoved him in a crate in one of Scar’s minigames, and spent the entire time tormenting and torturing him. Mumbo had confessed, eyes starting to look a little wet (and Shadoc had no idea how to react to that, how to react to any of this), that Jigsaw had told him Murmur wasn’t ever going to rescue him. That he’d been abandoned, alone, with only Jigsaw for horrible company.

When Murmur vanished for longer than a few minutes, despite being inseparable from his summoner in every other circumstance, both Mumbo and Shadoc got worried.

“Murmur?” Shadoc called out. This was an area of the server he was unfamiliar with; Mumbo had been out here for some reason or another, he hadn’t really been listening, and then Murmur had just… disappeared. Doing his best to not fear the worst, Shadoc had joined the search the instant the option was even presented; he hated the thought of Murmur getting hurt, even though the most likely option was that the shadow had just gotten lost somehow.

Voices from up ahead. No— a single voice, familiar, that made Shadoc pause. Grian? But— no, Grian was back at his base, because as much as he wanted to help he didn’t want to risk running afoul of Murmur when the shadow still held a grudge. So it couldn’t be Grian, but…

The only other option made Shadoc’s heart drop. No. No no no no no.

“...so useless,” Grian’s shadow said with a catlike smile on his face as he stood just out of Murmur’s reach. “You’re a pretty awful “guardian angel”, you do know that, right? He was screaming and begging and crying for help the whole time, and you never even heard him!” His laugh was sickening. “He’d be better off without you, really~”

“No,” Murmur hissed, voice underlaid with static. No, not just that— the other shadow sounded distraught, like he was choking back tears. Shadoc sank into the shadows cast across the ground and sneaked closer, peeking out from the flat shadow so only his eyes were visible, as the scene unfolded in front of him: Murmur shaking with either rage or fear, Jigsaw rocking back on his heels like a bored child, no one else around for chunks except for them and Shadoc. Static crackled like a broken radio as Murmur tried to speak, tried to say anything to refute Jigsaw’s claims; Shadoc saw him shakily sign you’re wrong only for Jigsaw to erupt into raucous laughter.

It reverberated through the area, getting louder and louder as it echoed; Shadoc covered his ears, but it still broke through until, finally, it stopped. Jigsaw wiped tears from his eyes. “THAT’S your rebuttal? Really? Of course you can’t think of anything better, though— you know I’m right. You know you’re a failure—”

Something in Shadoc snapped.

His creeper-like hiss of warning escalated into a full-out roar as he launched himself at Jigsaw. The spiral-marked shadow turned to face him, expression turning from taunting glee to confusion, as he drew his mechanical arm back, fingers closing into a fist; Jigsaw opened his mouth, barely got out a “What—” before Shadoc’s fist collided with his face with as much power put behind it as he could manage.

Murmur gasped in shock as Jigsaw was knocked down to the ground. The shorter shadow blinked, dazed, as he tried to collect himself; Jigsaw was again given no time to react, though, before Shadoc grabbed him roughly by the jumper and hauled him upright to snarl in his face. Shadoc grinned— a full-on grin, showing sharp teeth— at the look of startled terror on Grian’s shadow’s face. The part of him not completely overrun with rage went wait, what are we doing, but was drowned out as he lifted Jigsaw up off the ground and then slammed him back down.

Jigsaw desperately tried to escape; his outline blurred as he tried to go flat into the shadows, but with Shadoc’s tight grip on his clothes he wasn’t able to fully submerge before the enraged shadow yanked him back out and threw him aside. Shadoc was faintly aware of Murmur, of static buzzing around him, of Mumbo’s shadow trying to sign something at him, but he turned his back on him to instead growl at Jigsaw.

“Don’t you ever,” he said, voice crackling with static as a low hum resonated around him, resonated through him, “talk to Murmur again.”

Jigsaw looked up at him, face still frozen in shock. As Shadoc stared him down, he started giggling, nervous and afraid… then it kept going, getting louder, as that awful smile worked its way back onto his face. “I see, I see!” He got to his feet with some difficulty; the side of his face was bruising a sickly yellow, and Shadoc noted with some satisfaction that he seemed unsteady on his feet. “You think you’re a knight in shining armor! Well then… “

Jigsaw grinned. “Let’s play.”

He drew his sword.

Shadoc charged.

The first sword strike knocked him off balance. Pain split through him; Shadoc cried out as the next strike came down, then the next, then ]

When he came to, Shadoc was standing up, fists clenched, giving Jigsaw the most intense glare he could manage. Phantom pains stung across him, echoing the wounds Jigsaw had given him; the worst one was along his left side, burning hot, and he could vividly remember his form falling apart, bright yellow spilling out like light leaking through a cracked door—

“What’s the matter?” Jigsaw tilted his head. “Did I hit a button I shouldn’t have~?” His self-satisfied smirk sparked something inside Shadoc. His fingers twitched, desperately wanting to strike— no. No, that was what Jigsaw wanted. Jigsaw wanted him to snap, wanted him to break, wanted to be able to hold it over his head. He couldn’t lose control like that again. He… he just couldn’t.

That rage had been unlike anything Shadoc had ever experienced. Most of the hermits saw him as timid and afraid: barely a threat to anyone, just wanting to be left alone, flinching at sudden noises or movement. Even when he’d recovered enough that he didn’t need Stress keeping constant watch over him anymore, that image still persisted. Underneath all of that, though, was a messy cavalcade of emotions that he didn’t dare to acknowledge or attempt to rationalize.

He’d felt anger before. …Most of it was at Doc. The logical part of him knew that it wasn’t like the hermits had a manual on what to expect from the shadow mobs, knew that Doc regretted it, and— especially now— knew that he wanted to make amends. The irrational part of him was a hurricane. He was afraid of Doc hurting him, angry at Doc for hurting him, felt sad for Doc, felt worried for Doc, all of it mixing together into a tangled-up ball of cords he couldn’t even begin to make heads or tails of.

The sheer fury Jigsaw ignited in him wasn’t like any of that. It was like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. It was something that, if he let it loose again, Shadoc was afraid would do more harm than good. It was something that, if he let it loose again, Shadoc was afraid he wouldn’t be able to come back from.

The thing that would’ve made the most sense for him to do was for him to pick up the shulker box, turn his back on Jigsaw, and go home. Shadoc knew that wasn’t an option. Not because “running away is dishonourable” or whatever, just… well, he traveled slower while carrying something he hadn’t been summoned with, wasn’t able to do the “disappearing into the shadows” trick, and he wasn’t about to leave behind the reason he’d come out all the way. Especially not with the unspoken threat of Jigsaw making sure he and Cleo never got the box and its contents back. But, at the same time, being face-to-face with him kept sending him into loops he couldn’t break out of: thinking about Murmur, thinking about Mumbo, thinking about Iskall, thinking about

“One,” Shadoc whispered, “two, three, four…” Focus. Shut everything out. Hold steady. “One, two, three, four…” Don’t lose control. Stay grounded. Don’t lose control. “One, two, three, four...“

Jigsaw tilted his head like a confused puppy. It was a gesture that would be rather cute on Grian, but like everything his shadow did it had a darker vibe behind it. “Uh, hello? Shadoc? What are you doing?” No response asides from quiet repetition. Shadoc closed his eyes, drawing all of his awareness in on himself, in on the rhythm, anything to try and stifle the coming storm. When the creeper shadow didn’t acknowledge him, Jigsaw crossed his arms and huffed. “I said, what are you doing?”

One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four.

Jigsaw’s pout deepened into a scowl. “Are you ignoring me? Really?” Shadoc tensed up as he heard the tell-tale sound of a sword being drawn; Jigsaw twirled the weapon lazily, looking at himself in the reflection of the blade, then glanced at Shadoc to check his reaction. There— he was tensed up again, voice shaking a little, still keeping up the count but clearly on edge. Jigsaw tapped the tip of the sword against the ground and took a step closer.

“I think I get it now~” Jigsaw hummed. “You think you’re the next Killjoy, huh, don’t you? Mark, two, three, four—” Intentionally out of sync with Shadoc’s own count, intentionally disrupting, “—but if you think you can scare me… you’re not doing a good job.”

One, two, three, four.

“—so he beat up Apex or whatever, who cares? You’re not him, that’s for sure. You’re just some wreck everybody took pity on! Even though you’re really more trouble than you’re worth…“ Jigsaw drummed his fingers against his thigh, waited for a rebuttal; when none came, he narrowed his eyes, scanning Shadoc’s expression for any indication of weakness or even any sign that he’d heard him at all. “…you’re still not listening to me, are you.”

Shadoc lowered his head. “Please go away,” he whispered. The count continued in his head, constant, drowning out everything else. He just had to keep focusing on that, had to keep shutting everything out, and then Jigsaw would get bored and leave, or he’d calm down enough to think of some way to get away without the other shadow trying to chase him and trip him up. He didn’t want to have to deal with this. He didn’t want to have to deal with Jigsaw trying to rile him up, didn’t want to have to deal with that messy nonsense of incoherent feelings, didn’t want to have to deal with the rising tension that was resisting his every attempt to shove it back down.

“Please go away,” Jigsaw echoed in a mocking tone. “We both know you can’t make me do anything~ It’s actually pretty pathetic!” He switched poses so that the sword was point-down in front of him, tip digging into the ground, both hands resting on the pommel, and leaned forward on it like it was a rather lethal cane. Shadoc could feel his eyes piercing into him as he started the count back up, hoping that the sound of his own voice would override Jigsaw’s comments. “You’re just a coward.” He stopped. Shadoc didn’t see the smile start to creep onto the other shadow’s face.

One, two, three, four.

“You know,” Jigsaw said, voice cheerful as always, “Iskall still doesn’t know it was you.”

What?

Jigsaw muffled a snort of laughter at the momentary flicker of worry on Shadoc’s face. “Him and Mumbo are so worried that Sahara’s gonna break again! They think it’s their fault. Especially Mumbo!” He slipped into an impression of the hermit: “I can’t believe I let Iskall get hurt like that! And Doc’s shadow, too… I’m such an idiot.” This time he didn’t bother trying to hide his giggling. “He’s devastated! Iskall’s not so sure, he doesn’t think it should be possible for even Sahara’s redstone to overload like that, but Mumbo keeps blaming himself…”

Jigsaw’s voice took on a sly tone. “But you know the truth, don’t you, Detonator?”

One, two, three, four… One… One, two… two…

The drifting particles dusting the air around the two of them started to flicker. Shadoc gritted his teeth, showing off glowing fangs, and clenched his fists hard enough to hurt. Jigsaw gave him a curious look as the small triangles surrounding Shadoc glitched in and out, swept about in an invisible wind. Shadoc dug his heels in against the overwhelming force of the wildfire, of the storm, of the hurricane; he couldn’t let Jigsaw get the better of him, couldn’t let himself slip, even if he totally had it coming, even if it was getting harder to think, even if

“—You’re dangerous,” Jigsaw said. “That’s what you don’t want the hermits to know, isn’t it? You want them to keep thinking you’re the cute, pathetic coward that could never hurt anyone, because if they knew the truth they’d get rid of you. Is that it?”

One… One, two… One… three, four…

Skipping beats. Losing rhythm. Shadoc could feel it— it was different from when he panicked, different from Area 77, different from Sahara, different from the village. The barely-audible hum resonated through him, filling his ears, mixed in with static, as he got closer and closer to an overload.

“But you’re just so useless! You want to be the good guy, want to help people, but all you do is panic and hurt them. You’re no help to anyone!” Jigsaw sneered. “They’ll say they understand, say they care about you, but do you know what they’ll really think of you? Do you know how good ol’ Doc feels about you? Do you know what was going through his head after Sahara~? Do you know what he sees when he looks at you?”

One… Two… One… One…

Jigsaw’s grin widened, malice shining in his golden eyes.

“You’re a ticking time bomb.”

“One,” Shadoc forced out. His voice cracked, overlaid with the static buzzing through him; tiny sparks flickered among his fingers, in the air around him, the humming getting louder, the ground unsteady under his feet, “O-One— One— One—“

“You can’t protect anybody. You certainly couldn’t protect Murmur~”

Shadoc’s voice faltered, numbers dying out, mouth moving wordlessly. Memories rattled around inside him: Murmur reassuring him, Murmur cornered by Jigsaw, Shadoc screaming, Murmur screaming, Jigsaw’s sword, everything blurring together.

“I wonder what would’ve happened if Murmur had been standing where Iskall was?”

Couldn’t think. Couldn’t focus. Skipping beats, skipping rhythm, everything drowned out by Jigsaw, by himself, by—

“I wonder,” the other shadow said, “if you would’ve killed him.”

This time, Shadoc didn’t give him the liberty of a warning hiss. The creeper shadow lunged; Jigsaw’s eyes widened, expression turning from taunting glee to genuine fear, as he drew his mechanical arm back, already clenched into a fist, and slammed it into Jigsaw’s face with as much force as he could put behind it.

The upside of death was that Shadoc was stronger than he had been the last time they met. His punch had enough force to actually knock Grian’s shadow off his feet and send him flying back a short distance before collapsing to the ground; Jigsaw hissed in pain, holding a hand to his face, then struggled to his feet as Shadoc closed the distance.

“Oh, so we’re doing this now?” Jigsaw ducked under the next punch that came his way; Shadoc stumbled a little as the other shadow dove into the ground, giving Jigsaw enough time to retrieve his sword and twirl it as the creeper shadow rounded on him. “Haven’t you learned from last time?” Pain exploded through Shadoc as the sword swung into his side; moving quickly to dodge his attempts at retaliation, Jigsaw practically danced around him as he nicked him lightly with the blade. If Shadoc was so keen on making history repeat, may as well play along. “You know, normally I don’t do repeat performances~”

Shadoc’s vision blurred. The world around him shifted and started to fade as he was overcome with sudden vertigo. No. No, he was not going to let Jigsaw kill him again. The pain was blinding, but it suddenly felt insignificant in the face of everything. Even as the colour started to fade from the edges of his vision, he snarled and lashed out as the sword came down again; Jigsaw gasped in pain as he grabbed him by the wrist, the claws on his mechanical hand digging into him as he tightened his grip. Shadoc’s touch burned white-hot, searing through him, overriding everything, as a glitchy static hum filled his head, resonated through him.

Jigsaw raised a leg and slammed his foot down on Shadoc’s knee; he grunted, loosening his hold just enough for Jigsaw to rip himself away. This time, Jigsaw wasn’t in the mood to play around. The sword cut a glowing yellow line along Shadoc’s chest; Jigsaw drew back, ready to drive the sword in deep, as Shadoc slumped down, only to get caught off guard as he launched up at him and tackled him to the ground.

White noise filled Jigsaw’s head as Shadoc pinned him. The sword clattered out of his hands as blow after blow came raining down; Jigsaw struggled feebly, trying to shove him off, then slipped away into the shadows as Shadoc’s first impacted the ground hard enough to crack it. Shadoc’s eyes snapped to the shape racing along the ground, jumping from dark spot to dark spot, trying to put as much distance between him and Shadoc as possible. He wasn’t going to let Jigsaw get away.

Jigsaw screamed as he was ripped out back into three dimensions. Shadoc slammed him into a wall as hard as he could in one fluid motion; stars danced in Jigsaw’s vision as things went blank for the smallest of moments, only for Shadoc to toss him aside like a ragdoll before he could recover. He tumbled and lay still as he tried to pull himself back together. Jigsaw needed to find an escape, needed to run, but everything really, really hurt. His fingers twitched and he rolled over off his back, then pushed himself up on one elbow and looked up at the shape looming over him.

The pain was starting to overwhelm Shadoc. Yellow wounds, both minor and major, broke up the flat black; the only thing keeping him standing was the sheer driving anger burning him alive from the inside out. If he was a time bomb, then Jigsaw had lit the fuse and was now forced to watch the ceaseless explosion. The little voice in the back of his head that had tried to snap him out of it before was gone now. No— it was like his mind was completely blank, like there was nothing there but raw emotion. He was past being reasoned with, past being able to come back from the edge, past doing anything but fighting until the fire burnt out.

His jaw cracked, opening wider than it should be able to, showing teeth that were far sharper than they had any reason to be, nearly splitting his face open like he was an enderman, and Shadoc roared. It ripped its way out of him, echoing, warping into static, impossibly loud, overwhelming all of Jigsaw’s senses. The other shadow was too dazed to do anything, not even able to cover his ears, as Shadoc screamed until his voice gave out.

Shadoc could’ve just left then. Jigsaw was beaten, broken, and certainly not able to stop him from picking up the shulker box and heading back to Cleo’s ship. He’d made his point.

But he wasn’t done.

He barely registered the first few drops that announced the beginning of the storm. Like it was second nature, Shadoc held his hand up over his head; the trident— the trident Doc had given him, the apology, the thing Doc had hoped would help prevent Shadoc from getting killed again— appeared in his hand, feeling like an extension of him as his fingers tightened around the handle.

Thunder boomed, filling the void left behind by Shadoc’s scream. Jigsaw flinched, but Shadoc stood steady even as another crack of lightning split the sky. Staring down at Jigsaw the entire time, Shadoc twirled the trident a couple of times and then held it so that it was pointing up at the sky. Jigsaw feebly struggled, trying both to get up and to hide in the ground, like he couldn’t decide what was the best option for him, as the rain poured down harder. The badly injured shadow let out a tiny, frightened laugh. “...I’m in danger.”

Lightning crashed down, wrapping around the trident, almost blinding. Shadoc gritted his teeth as he felt it rush through him; Jigsaw scrambled away as fast as he could at the sight, as it sank in what was about to happen next. He wasn’t fast enough to dodge as Shadoc stabbed the trident into him. Shadoc ignored his shriek of pain; Jigsaw grabbed the trident by the prongs, trying desperately to remove it, only for the other shadow to grab the handle by both hands and drive it in deeper, pinning him to the ground.

Shadoc’s vision flared white as lightning struck the trident. Jigsaw screamed as it burned through him; Shadoc himself had to struggle to ignore the pain as the electricity raced up his arms from where he was gripping the trident, but he planted his feet and held the weapon secure even as Jigsaw thrashed frantically.

Lightning struck again. And again. Repeated, screaming, everything hurting— Shadoc channeled all of his pain, all of his anger, all of his thoughts about Murmur and Iskall and Mumbo and Jigsaw and Doc and everything into the storm, into the trident, even as he was sure he was about to kill himself. He fell to his knees, still clinging onto the trident, still willing the storm to continue, until Jigsaw’s screams cut off abruptly.

Barely conscious, Shadoc registered as if from a million miles away that Jigsaw was dead. He slumped over, his grip on his trident loosening, as it sank in. Glowing yellow cracks ran up his arms, bits of his shadowy exterior chipped away, in patterns mimicking the lightning; he stared down at them, vacant, until all of the pain finally caught up to him and he collapsed.

#txt #shadow people au #HOO MAN.#this apparently took a week to write and it certainly feels like it!#mostly bc jigsaw is just. hard to write.#time to nap for 500000 years #leo.rtf

56 notes · View notes