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ivyuns · 4 years ago

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landing in my heart: secret

han jisung

genre: angst

word count: 2.6k

warnings: lost in north korea, violence, mentions of chopping a head off, military stuff, mentions of car accidents, weapons, mentions of ending life and disorders (at the end), grammer mistakes, if i missed anything, lmk :)

part two of landing in my heart

landing in my heart information

2001

“y/n, choose your future!”

from that day, you always made the right choices. looking in front of you, you saw items which predicted your future by grabbing an item. instead of an item, you grabbed your fathers hand.

till that day on, you successfully opened your own fashion store. cutting the ribbon for your grand opening.

now that you heard jisung telling you to take the right path, you went to the other way. the night when jisung pulled you and hid you in his chest, you looked up in shock.

“oh my. i cant believe we met again”

“i thought you left”

you start flirting with jisung to get your way with him. smiling while jisung stares at you. ‘should i just kill her’ jisung thinks.

the following morning, you wake up and see yourself in the mirror. face full of marks and cuts. grabbing a cup of water and pour it into the bucket, you clean your face. “its okay, you’ll get through this yoon y/n”

as youre telling yourself to calm down in the bathroom, jisung makes you breakfast. “i-i dont know what you guys do but we usually give the host the first bite” you said, giving jisung a spoonful of the food, he stares at you.

“what wrong?” you asked. jisung sighs and crosses his arms. “are you concerned of whats in the food? because its poisonous?” putting the spoon back onto the food, you gave you. “im sorry if i offended you. but please do understand why im acting like this. wouldnt it be ridiculous for me to be trusting someone at this point?”

“hm, i guess youre right” lifting you head, you smiled. “see! i was correct-” “but you made an emergency landing at the DMZ while flying an unpowered aircraft on a windy day. right as the electric wires were working, you crossed it and came to a military housing area. ill sound crazy to believe someone like you”

“dont tell me youre suspecting me, thinking im a - spy. in fact i believe people are looking for me considered im famous down there” you paused, “one everyone knows im here, the south korean government, military authorites, and the UN wont stay still” jisung nods his head in agreement. “then, nobody should know youre here. i wont tell them”

jisung stands up and gathers your plate. hearing a knock, you look at jisung as he goes and looks who is here.

looking outside the gate, he sees hyunjin outside. “ah, captain han. i didnt know you went home early so i looked everywhere for you. so i knew you were home when i saw smoke from the chimney” hyunjin says and goes inside jisungs house without permission.

“oh and good news. about that south korean girl-” “listen she’s” “shes dead!” hyunjin laughs. “i know youre shocked too because i am too! there was an accident on the mountain and reporters said there was a young woman there” jisung shakes his head, “no thats not it hyung-” “aye, if im wrong then you can chop off my head” jisung nods his head and leads hyunjin back to the gate “wait let me use the bathroom real quick”

as both of the boys went to the entry way of the house, hyunjin takes off his shoes and talks about you. as he takes his shoes off, you went to lean on the door frame. hyunjin turns around and gets scared of seeing to woman he was talking about.

“how do you chop someone’s head off? ive never done it before” you spoke. with hyunjin’s mind going everywhere, he manages to speak to jisung. “c-captain han, whats going on here?” after realization, you realized he was the one who tried to shoot you. “y-you. it was you! you shoot the bullet at me!”

settling down, jisung rubs his temples as you tried to explain hyunjin that youre not a spy. “do you have trouble understanding or something?” “captain, do you have a shovel i can borrow?” you explain everything that had happened when you ran away, hyunjin gets scared and sits next to jisung.

moments later, another knock comes from jisung’s gates. opening the gate, he sees seungmin, felix and jeongin with food and drinks. “captain han! did you hear the news? the one with the young lady-” “thats not true” jisung cuts off felix.

“you must be jeongin” you called out. jeongin turns around and sees you. “yes, and who are you?” crossing your arms and leaning on the door frame, “i heard you might face a dishonored discharge. that means youll lose the job that you really need” you told him with a scared hyunjin next to you. “i-i thought she died!” jeongin screams and turns to the other two men next to him.

“and ah! youre felix! so tell me, which kdramas did you watch before leaving the post?” you pointed your finger at him. “stairway to heaven” felix answers. “ah thats a pretty old one. its the one with jiwoo and sangwoo right? im close to them, they live a few houses away from me” “is that true?!” felix smiles as seungmin tells him to stop.

telling everybody to come inside to talk, you demand them to take you back where you first landed in north korea. “im afraid we cant do that” jisung answers. “captain han, just let her be. let her get fried in the fences and say ‘so this is how the fences feels like’ if she’ll ever learn” hyunjin laughs out. giving a death glare at him, he stops laughing and puts on a straight face.

“basically, we cant go back to the post because we finished our job for two months and cant return there for a few months” jisung continues. “but you have a choice; i take you to the state security department. they may let you go home. or you stay here but heres a few rules. one, dont talk to us. and two, dont leave the house until we get you back home” jisung finishes. “my dad does a boat-to-boat. where a small boat goes to the international oceans and meets up with the bigger boats to another country” felix tells you.

nodding your head and agreeing with the second choice, the boys goes and makes you food since you were begging them to give you meat. after the food is done, you all eat as jisung steps back. “we must return to our post after this” jisung speaks out. “what? so i have to be alone now?” you exclaimed. “yah, do you just expect captain han to just stay here with you?” hyunjin jokes. “if you need anything thats urgent, press 8 on the cell phone and ill answer it in the outerpost”

instead of calling him for emergencies, you only called him, asking silly stuff. asking wheres the body wash, shampoo, and conditioner and wheres the candles, he responds with the bar of soap. you then call him how to take a bath since theres no modern showers inside his house. “you need to fill up the bucket with hot water. then take the tarp and hang it up with the clothes pin above the bucket. make sure to tuck the tarp under the bucket so theres no airflow. youll have your shower after that”

doing what jisung told you, you were surprised on how they lived. finally finishing, you went in the bucket after taking your clothes off. “ah this feels nice”

jisung, who was still in the office, got another phone call. “what is it now- ah master sergeant, whats the matter?” jisung answers to the sergeant. “its about the tomb raiders. they were killed in an accident on the mountain” jisung quickly hangs up and goes to the security state department and tell cheolgang.

he shows his military id to enter the place before the other military men opens the gate for jisung. as he goes to the room that cheolgang is in, he tells him what happened. “yes, i know what happen. but what can we do” cheolgang asks. “i believe there needs to be an investigation. what car did they crash into? was it on accident or on purpose? if it was on purpose, who was behind this? and why accidents like this keeps happening. so im asking if i can look into it” jisung says. cheolgang nods his head “go ahead. you should go to the headquaters in pyongyang tomorrow morning and get more information” he answers. jisung gets up and leaves.

the senior coloniel, who was next to cheolgang the whole time, asks cheolgang whats going to happen now. “dont worry about it, we hired somebody since hes responsible for a billion won scheme”

china.

minseok and his bodyguard enters the hotel where theyre supposed to meet someone. after finding the person, they talk about how minseok should be safe in north korea after passing through the other countries without being caught by sehyeong. minseok signs the contact and goes to his new home in north korea with extra protection.

back in north korea in the village, the kids were playing outside as you were still hidden in jisungs place. the mothers came out and gather their kids since it was dark and late and was now time for dinner. however, upil didnt leave until his dad showed up.

as manbok calls his son’s name, upil goes and hugs him and enters their house with upil’s favorite donut.

meanwhile in jisung’s house, you finished your bath and the lights go out. “whats going on? havent i had enough suprises today?”

the whole village had a blackout and you were scared. making your way to the telephone, you called jisung. only to be declined. you were hearing noises and you felt like you were going to be caught soon. closing the blinds, the noises were getting clearer.

grabbing the nearest item to hit the intruder, you were stopped as you saw jisungs face. tears threatened to spilled as your emotions came down are you. “why are you here” you said, lowering the item. “you said you needed a candle” jisung grabs the candle from the bag and gives it to you. “you said you needed it when you took a bath and when you sleep” “thats just a candle. i need a scented one” more tears spilled and jisung takes the item out of your hand.

“im sorry, you probably feel frustrated right now. but i just cant believe what im going through right now” sobs left your mouth as jisung guilty.

ranting to jisung about your problems back in south korea, you couldnt help but spill more tears. feeling frustrated at yourself back then, you felt bad for jisung since you were just crying in front of him. jisung puts his finger on the flame of the candle that was on. “there, i cant see you anymore” jisung reassures you that everything will be okay soon. he gets up and grabs his hat. “where are you going?” “i need to get on a train in the morning to pyongyang” he answers

“i dont know when ill be back so i might not see you when you leave. but my comrades will help you get on the boat in a few days. heres some things i bought that you needed” jisung says and hands you a bag and leaves the house. you open the door before he could leave.

“excuse me, but what is your name? i want to remember it to return the favor later” “you dont have to, there was no favor in the beginning. so its better to not remember it. and as i said before, dont tell anyone about this when you go back” nodding your head, jisung leaves the place.

going back inside, you open the bag and its full of the stuff you asked for earlier. looking at every product, you realize its from south korea. everything that you needed was in the bag, including undergarments and medicine for your cut.

jisung arrives pyongyang. hes then stopped for an investigation. jisung is led to a torture room to be questioned about the robbers. myeongseok enters the room and sees jisung being yelled at throught the glass window. he barges into the room and kicks the person who was asking jisung questions and aggravating him. “what are you doing? this is the directors son” myeongseok yells at the person, who is shocked.

myeogseok apolgizes to jisung and leads him somewhere to let jisung tell him what he needs to know.

the person who was just yelled at calls cheolgang and tells him that jisung is the directors son of general politics and gets angry.

later the night, jisung and myeongseok are talking about how jisung was to investigate into the car accident recently. “do you perhaps think this accidents was like your brothers?” jisung thinks to what myeongseok ask, and realizes the accident could be like his brothers. the same truck that ran into his brothers car and the others that the trucks ran into.

after company five visited you, they came back to the military zone to get some rest. they happened to see cheolgang leaving the place and quickly straightens up and salutes him. “fifth company, where are you guys coming from?” cheolgang asks. “from fixing the pump in out captains house sir” hyunjin replies. “ hes in pyongyang so good job”

“yes sir. may i ask where youre heading sir” seungmin asks. “lately were have lots of runaways so im going to run random house inspections today” “tonight sir?” hyunjin asks. cheolgang nods and felix starts hiccuping. “whats wrong with him?” “nothing sir. we missed what was in front of us, therefore the runaways must be in the military base. i believe that is a wise plan sir” hyunjin responds quickly. cheolgang nods and tells them to hurry inside and get some sleep.

they quickly go inside and hyunjin calls jisung as seungmin makes sure nobody is coming inside the room theyre in. “captain han, theyre doing random house inspections tonight. but we told the south korean woman not to answer any phone calls. so theyres no way to tell her” hyunjin tells jisung. jisung then hangs up and asks myeongseok for a favor.

jisung quickly drives back to the village as cheolgang arrives in front of jisungs house since is was the next house on the list. seeing the lights on, he doesnt believe that jisung is back from pyongyang.

looking through jisungs stuff, you look into a book that seems familiar. opening the book, you see an application form. “i swear i saw this face before” you were disturbed by your thoughts when you heard knocking. “captain han jisung! were here for house inspecting!” putting everything away, you hid in jisungs kimchi cellar, which was underground. cheolgang unlocks the gate and finds jisung as he sees the cellar’s blanket off of the door.

opening the door, the investigators finds you and clucks their guns. as youre forced to get off of jisungs property, everyones asking you questions as your hands are up in defense and silent. “it doesnt matter. once shes at the state security department, these muted people will talk” cheolgang says.

as a bright light flashes through, everyone stops and looks at the car in front of them. jisung stops the car and gets out to walk towards you and cheolgang. cheolgang suddenly aims his gun at you as tears fell.

“what are you doing to my fiancee?”

“what did you just say?”

“i would appreciate if you put the gun away from my fiancee”

additional ending:

location: switzerland

“its invalidation in our institute regulations, im sorry” the woman tells you after your request. “but why? i heard i can end my life here sure i have no physical pain, but i feel extraordinary pain in my mind. depression, panic disorder, eating disorder, insomnia, what all do i have to name? ” you questioned.

“we always recommend the sight seeing of switzerland to our visitors. most of our visitors change their minds after sight seeing. i dont know why you want to end it, but im sure youll be one of them”

after doing what the woman had told you, you went to visit a place where you can paraglide. amazed at how amazing paragliding looked, a guy stopped right next to you, admiring the view with you.

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ranmanjuu · 5 years ago

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What about an mc that acts like a foreigner everytime a situation with the warlords becomes difficult?? Like nobus like "youll go to war with me" and theyll just make a weird face and act like they don't understand and speak broken thick accented japanese. Choose ur faves from the bunch ! Or whoever u have good ideas for ;)

ah, the Selective Dumbass. i made mc a foreigner, they’re fairly fluent in sengoku japanese. the character selection here’s Wonky ahaha one for each forces baby but y’all listen i have unfunctioning brains. also last foreigner mc i tried to avoid the stiff language (that can be taken as me making fun of foreigners) and i’m gonna try it here so like,,, please don’t cancel me i have a family to feed

oda forces

—mitsuhide:

you’ve pulled this off several times. all to horrible results, really.

that time he confronted you of your knowledge about him being a traitor, the time he practically told you to go with him during the bubbling rebellion, all the likes.

each time, you pulled a confused face at him as if he’d spoken some moon runes and switch to broken japanese. “i,, not know,,,,, what talk,, you,,,,,”

it’s hilariously stupid, since the two of you know that you can, in fact, speak language. mitsuhide was close to splitting his sides in pure amusement. and even with his metal mask on, he still let a foxy grin slip past.

“why, little mouse, did i not give you enough teachings it seems? perhaps i should give you more work to do.”

you knew in every possible way that he was as torturous a teacher as he is with his victims. and you desperately wanted out. but you’ve done so hard to dig this hole, the condensed spite inside your body said no.

“i’m,,, not know, still.”

you feel your braincells vanishing.

and he kept pushing, teasing. from that point on, he gave more homework for japanese and you’ve decided to dislike him for the rest of your life solely for that.

but hey! it gets worse.

that was only at the suface level, if the situation wasn’t too serious. but if it does:

the bitch uses your language.

he’s probably known by now what language you use, and will probably learn it just to know if you’re keeping any secrets. but now you’ve been utterly cornered. there’s no way to escape this now other than to bonk your head and get amnesia or just normal brain damage.

he still hasn’t lived that down.

uesugi-takeda forces

—yukimura:

perhaps the first time you used such a comical “strategy” (a poor excuse of one) wasn’t at the best moment.

it was when he found out you were the chatelaine of azuchi castle. the betrayed and conflicted look on yukimura’s face sent a wave of panic through you, telling you to not let the friendship you’ve built so strongly crumble.

and the first option you went with, is to scrunch your face. “you,,, uhh,, not s-sense make,,?”

“. . .what?”

you’ve done it, you’ve distracted him from the topic at hand. and you’ve also successfully drained 90% of his braincells. “what,, are you trying to cast a nonsense spell on me, boar enchanter,,,?”

even as he continues to jab at you, the hesitancy from pure confusion was clear.

“hey—! u-uhm. .”

you wanted to jab back in your own signature way, but then you realized you had to keep up the clueless persona.

“why’re you being so silly all of the sudden? i—”

“shhh! i—erm, not understand—?”

you managed to stall the discussion for another day. and he still remembers it, and also teases you at certain times.

misc. forces:

—kennyo:

the first time you met at the night of honno-ji, kennyo didn’t think much about your ‘defense mechanism’ by sputtering through the japanese language then promptly running off. he thought it was from just fear or something similar—he was, in his own words, a demon.

but the second time, he encountered it again in its fullest degree. he’d kidnapped you for ransom, and you were very scared, rightfully so.

and just like any movie villain, kennyo more or less explains what he’s going to do to you. and your reaction was to feign cluelessness, your once frowning face was now looking at him as if he were an alien.

“i,,, what,, you m-mean,,?”

now, kennyo knew you were a foreigner. his spies told him such. but once you displayed that you didn’t know language and what he meant (even if it’s fake, but he doesn’t know that yet), he felt a bit more guilty.

in his eyes, you weren’t only a chatelaine with horrible luck, being in this situation, but you were someone who already had trouble outside of his dangerous grasp.

and so, he explained it to you at least like,, 3 times in the most careful way he could. but you’re stubborn also, and you kept up the act, one that wasn’t,, even really good acting.

to an outsider’s perspective, it played more of a cartoon come to life.

eventually, he left with a sigh, and you still “”don’t know”” what he’s talking about.

whether or not he found out later,,,,, u pick :)

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #cyikemen #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen yukimura #ikesen kennyo #*writing

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sumire-bride · 4 years ago

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sumire and shuu's route (demo) prologue :D

((this picture here will be of shuu and sumire at some point once i'm able to draw digitally))

scene is in the hallway

sumire- .... (....this whole thing is very unsettling... i do not want to be here.... i can not believe that father is okay with me going into this disgusting world.....)

(.....did he tell nii-san about this... to let him know....? does mother know...? there's so many things i want to ask father....)

why... did you send me away father.... into this disgusting world.... what did i do...? i'll fix myself if you let me back home....

*sumire trips over shuu*

sumire- ...ah...!

(...ow... i keep getting hurt here.... dangerous...)

shuu- you really are a annoying women...

sumire- ....how come you are on the ground shuu-sama....? i do not want you getting hurt.....

shuu- that's funny coming from a person who doesn't watch where she's going

sumire- ...forgive me... i will watch where i go from now on...

shuu- doubt it..

you gotta a staring problem? what..?

sumire- ....is your hair real... i have not seen anyone with that hair colour...

shuu- ah..? you've never seen blonde hair? just how much of the world have you not seen? geez.. yeah it's real..

*reiji appears*

reiji- you.. your still in your normal clothes and shuu hurry and get in the car i won't be embarrassed by the likes of you, and you get your uniform on or you'll be late

shuu- roger that.. *he leaves the scene*

sumire- (...the blond man left)

...uniform...? what is that... and what will.. i be late for...?

reiji- you don't know what a uniform is...?

sumire- i do not...i think a uniform... is a thing everyone wears... when given to go somewhere.... but where do i have to go... and what is a car...?

reiji- haah.. your honestly hopeless.. well your going to school that should be obvious

sumire- ..? what is school....? is it a place...?

reiji- er...? haah.. why does he send people like her over.. at least they knew what school was, school is a place you go to learn things like math and other subjects in different room with people now hurry up youll be late, i've left it in your room

sumire- ....math... (...the tutors i had taught me that.... so maybe that will not be so terrible... er... wait people... with other people..?!)

excuse me reiji-sama... you said people...! there will be more people...-!

*reiji is gone*

..uh... he is gone... mm.. (...father would not approve of me interacting with people..... haah.. but father.. is not here at the moment.. so i might as well give it a try...)

*scene starts in the front doors of the school*

sumire- .... (...this.. place is... bigger then my house...! oh my god...!)

...so this is... school...?

laito- correct bitch-chan! this is school

sumire- ...so huge.... goodness... so all i have to do is go in rooms and learn stuff... right..?

reiji- yeah.. please don't make a fuss and ruin our reputation unless you require a whipping later you won't cause trouble for me right?

it was already to much of a headache explaining to you how school works and much less getting you outside and in the damn car... now you'll share classes with shuu ((sumire is 18 meaning she would be a third year, in all routes she shares classes with shuu))

sumire- ...i will not be trouble... *she's still staring with stars in her eyes at the school* (...it looks so cool....!)

*hallway in the school*

sumire- ..... (...so many hallways....goodness.... i have never been in that room called "classroom" before..... mm...

(there's so many people... there all so loud... well... they are very different then everyone at home.... so.. how do i put this... enthusiastic... not like home....)

ayato- oi! average melon!

sumire- (hm...? oh it is the red haired one...) ....i do not see any melons anywhere... so how come you saying melons...?

ayato- duh i'm talking about you your tits aren't big but there ain't small either therefore average melons

sumire- ...tits...? *she looks at her chest* ohh... if my breasts are bothering you then i will find ways to help you feel more happy about them

ayato- er.. really?

sumire- yes i will... all you have to do is tell me how i can change and i will to make.. you happy....

ayato- let me touch em then, you said you'd do whatever if they didn't make me happy they don't so how about it?

sumire- ...no... i said i would change... you are not promoted to touch me in that manner... i said i would change... so please tell me how i can change..

ayato- ahh..? tch seriously? whatever,

sumire- ....? i told you i can change... but i do not feel comfortable with you touching me in that manner, but how can i change to make you happy....?

ayato- forget it, i'm being nice and letting you off, but.. i'm pretty hungry so let me suck your blood huh

sumire- ...! (...no.. yesterday that already was close to happening... no..) ..no thank you...

ayato- the hell happened to your obedient personality? *he gets closer to sumire*

sumire- .... (i do not want a repeat of yesterday)

*sumire hits ayato's hand and runs away*

*scene is in a empty classroom*

*sumire trips over shuu running in*

sumire- akk..! ow... (...i keep falling... how displeasing... this one hurt more since i already fell this morning...- ah..)

oh... hello shuu-sama you really need to stop sleeping on the floor i do not want you getting hurt

shuu- ...tch..

*sumire gets up and just stares*

shuu- what..?

sumire- ..... hello...

shuu- ?? what's up with you why do you act like that, your like a computer robot..

sumire- ...if my personality bothers you then i shall change....

shuu- tsk.. whatever, what do you want? if you don't want anything then leave

sumire- ....mm.. (...i do not want to leave... i am afraid that ayato-sama will find me again...)

shuu- seems like my brothers won't leave you alone but don't group me with them.. using your body and blood won't get you anywhere if you want to take over the house i don't care a damn about you

sumire- ... but i do not want to take you house... why would i do such a thing...? i see no reason to...

shuu- well i find no reason to explain it to you figure it out, *he yawns* explaining it is troublesome

sumire- ...i see... then i shall figure it out...

...but..

shuu- hm..?

sumire- ...i still would like you to watch over me while i am here.... please make sure you stick to that....

shuu- i just told to leave did i not? yet you still come to me and ask me to do that..?

sumire- ...yes...

shuu- watching you is gonna be like watching a child learn how to walk.. even watching paint dry it'll be annoying but it's not like i'll do it anyways...

sumire- .....but... (...he closed his eyes... is he asleep..? i guess i should not bother him further...)

*sumire get up and leaves the room*

sumire-... (...that blonde man is very quite... and very lazy.... i feel like i should be the one watching him.... i hope he does not mind...)

—TO BE CONTINUED—

#diabolik oc #sumire route #sumire-bride #sumire #diabolik oc routes

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tfw-no-tennis · 4 years ago

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return of hunty

soooo we’re back!! with some really old recaps that ive been too lazy to polish and publish. so, eps 29-32

so i have no idea wtf all that talk abt pores was but i guess gon and killua can do nen now. cool!

they rlly like, figured all that shit out in a few hours huh. these fuckgin nen prodigies hvbajkshdfbjskf

time to wade thru hisokas nasty vibes again

this felt like a video game and gon and killua tried to face a boss but were sent on a sidequest first lmao

smh just let gon punch you hisoka. then you can leave hopefully

wow some busted bitches are tryin to start shit w/the boys. i can tell these fools are gonna get rekkt

oh goody gon is gonna fight spinny guy. he looks like that claw guy from s1 of mp100

i hate that they wont stop talking abt this guys ‘tops’ hvbahdfbjskjf

theres a lot of like. strategy and shit going on

oooh gon hiding his presence just like he did when tracking hisoka! you little prodigy you

gon breaking his arm again :( buddy please

well rip the dream i guess, youll get em next time gon

killua scolding gon for being reckless and stuff...just say you were worried abt him gayboy

that promise thread is weirdly cute

killua being like ok wing if you dont teach us nen we’re gonna go out and do it anyways so yeah. hes so rude and blunt i love him

meanwhile, KURAPIKA!!!!!!!!!!! i missed u omg

kp wya. this place looks sketchy

ah, kurapika has to learn nen too now

whos this guy. is he gonna teach kurapika nen

YEP TOTALLY

why do i feel like we’re not gonna see leorio at all during this....my man i miss u too

ah, lovely timeskip lol

gon is so bouncy. baby boy ily and your scary improbable healing time

killua calling gon weird....you guys are BOTH weird ok

damn so hisoka has lost fights before, wild

or guess not, if he just didnt show up lmaooo what a bastard man

how funny would it be if this random guy defeated hisoka before gon could even fight him lmaoo

welp guess gon isnt gonna watch the match. im sure killua can fill him in

killua rlly just snuck into this dudes room huh

kastro: [teleports behind killua] NOTHING PERSONAL, KID

killua asking for an autograph lmao u aint slick boi

hmmm i wonder if these two will fight later on

then again i dont think this arc is that long so??? whats even gonna happen here??? is it just gonna be the gon vs hisoka fight that the OP has been promising this whole time???

kastro v hisoka go

YESSSS get punched hisoka. so good

FUCK HIM UP KASTRO.

i doubt thisll last but its good rn

LIMBS R FLYING....this is WILD bro. hisoka is so smug ughhhh i wanna punch him too

damn this bitch knows clone jitsu

ultimate attack time! i feel like the other shoe is abt to drop and hisoka is abt to fuck kastro up

THIS BITCH RLLY OUT HERE DOING A MAGIC SHOW HUH. jesus hisoka ur just...the worst

now hisoka has ZERO arms lord jesus

he really his kastro w/his own severed arm. god

kastro: what the fuck is happening right now

me: YEAH DUDE TELL ME ABOUT IT

aw man there goes kastro. rip you dramatic bishie legend, you never stood a chance

OOOOH cool lady who are you. her powers are kinda creepy but also cool. is she like, a doctor???

how does hisoka know her i wonder. shes cool tho i like her already

wow hisokas powers are weird. thats pretty on par tho

OH? PHANTOM TROUPE??? so machi is in the phantom troupe...oh boy now im conflicted abt liking her

AND HISOKAS IN THE PHANTOM TROUPE???? lmao ok then! i guessed that he knew them somehow but i didnt think he was a member...that doesnt seem like his MO

killua: that was wild. anyways lets train

please punch hisoka right out of the story gon

OH GOD OH LORD H*SOKA SHOWER SCENE I DONT WANT THIS AT ALLLLLL

ruth and i were literally just screaming throughout this whole thing. absolutely horrifying

OH JK I GUESS HISOKA IS JUST PRETENDING TO BE IN THE TROUPE. fuckgin typical lmaoooo

i do wonder why tho, like what are his motivations to pretend to be in the troupe...connections? money? convenience? just sowing chaos? guess we’ll see, cause im assuming hisokas going to yorknew to meet w/them

i wanna set hisoka on fire w/my mind. get him OUTTA HERE

also its so fucked up seeing hisoka w/out makeup and w/his hair down UGH I HATE IT he should NOT look ‘normal’ ever he should always look like the clown that he is

anyways thats it for now! and im temporarily suspending the predictions corner segment since i was too lazy to add it when i actually watched these eps, so now i have no idea what my predictions were. alas

#we r like halfway thru the chimera ant arc now hvbhaksjhfdkkas #i just havent polished up most of the heavens arena recaps so i havent published any....#but i have been writing my recaps dutifully for the CA arc so far #lj watches hxh #hxh

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tessxomarie · 6 years ago

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Saving You - Part I

*Hi everyone! First, I need to shoutout @hellosupernaturaldoctor for giving me advice and the confidence to even attempt this. This is my very first time writing any fan-fiction and the first time I’ve decided to post any of my writing some place other than a word doc. I’ve had this idea for this story since mid-season of the Mayans, and after the finale I put all my thoughts into a story. It starts off slow, but I promise what I have in store next will be worth it! PS, Any feedback is appreciated! - This story takes place a few months after the season one finale. Ez is now a newly patched in member, Alvarez is still working for Galindo; things have been quiet as of late, well for the most part.*

It’s a Friday afternoon, I’m just getting off of work. It’s hot as fuck outside – guess that’s the price you pay when you live in the desert. I lazily gather my purse from the backroom, before I step foot outside, I redo my hair. What was once a cute pony tail this morning has turned into a mangled mess. As my luck would have it, my hair tie snaps as soon as I go to wrap it around a third time. “Fuck.” I mumble to myself. I always wear an extra hair tie on my wrist, but I cannot have a naked wrist. “Fine, a mangled mane I will have. It’s fine, it’s fine.” I whisper to myself. If I don’t leave here now, I will lose all sanity I have left. Man, what a shit show day today has been, this heat must be getting to the kids. Two broken wrists, a broken arm, a no helmet incident and a random summer cold. I didn’t get puked or shit on, and no kid attempted to kick or hit, so I call today’s shit show a success. Just as I’m about to leave, one of my co-workers stops me, “Leah, good work today. You kept that broken arm kid really calm. Keep it up.” Elena tells me with a smile. “Thanks, Elena. I’m just doing my job, but I always welcome feedback, so thanks again.” I say to her as I head out the back door. It’s 4:30pm, I’ve been on the clock since 6am, one would think I deserve to simply go home and use my complex’s pool – oh one can dream. But nope, I’m still on the clock but I guess you could call this gig more of an always “on-call” service.

I pull up in my old school blacked out Jeep Grand Cherokee about twenty minutes after I leave the clinic to the Romeo Brothers Scrapyard, also known as the headquarters for the Mayans MC.

Chucky greets me, per usual. “Greetings Nurse Aleeah.” He says to me with a big smile and a salute. I let out a giggle as I always do whenever someone says my full name…I rarely ever go by it, but around here, I hear it more than I have in years. But Chucky, oh Chucky– how does one describe a chronic masturbator who has a good heart and is part of the biker world without truly being a biker? I guess I just did, didn’t I? “Hey Chucky, how are you?” I ask as I park and exit my Jeep. “I am well, swell actually. I have no complaints today.” Chucky answers with a big smile. “Good, I’m glad to hear that.” I say as I give his arm a friendly squeeze. “The boys need your assistance, I don’t know details but clearly someone got messed up hence why you are here.” Chucky explains in typical Chucky fashion.I roll my eyes as I stand in front of the clubhouse. “It’s always something with these boys, huh?” I rhetorically ask. Chucky nods his head and heads back to the office. I walk up the steps and take a deep breath before I enter the clubhouse. This club is like a box of chocolates, you never know what the fuck you’re going to get so it’s best you just grin and bear it. Is it just a cut from a broken beer bottle? Did a fight break out and there is blood everywhere? A bullet wound? A stabbing wound? A rat bite? Like I said, you just never know. I open the doors and pray today is nothing major. “Have no fear, your favorite RN is here.” I announce as I enter the clubhouse and strike a pose in the doorway. “Umm, isn’t it RN BSN?” Riz corrects as he stands and greets me. “Have I told you that you’re my favorite?” I reply with a playful wink and smile, it does make me truly happy that these guys acknowledge and are proud of my accomplishments. “Hola Aleeah.” Riz says to me while we greet with a warm hug, per usual. “Hey, I spy my favorite nurse!” Gilly shouts from across the room. Creeper, Hank and Taza also wave from the card table. “Greetings gentlemen, you all seem to be in one piece.” I say as I mosey around the few tables between me and the guys. “Although that pleases me, who is the one who called up 1-800-Rescue Nurse?” I sarcastically spit, which receives some laughs from the guys. “They’re in church.” Hank points towards the door. “They? Plural?” I ask looking at Riz, and he nods to confirm. “Jesus Christ.” I say palming my face. “Lee Baby!” Coco shouts from exiting church and walking over to me with open arms. “Ah, Coco Loco.” I reply with a smile and we hug. “How are you doing, Coco?” I ask after we break our embrace. “A lot better than your next two victims.” He replies, him not making much eye contact and that just gives it away – I know automatically who my victims are. “You gotta be kidding me? They got into it again?!” All Coco does is nod and look down at the floor. “How bad?” I ask. “What do you mean? How bad do they look? Or how bad is it between them?” Coco asks me. I shake my head with disgrace. I angrily take my steps towards church and I aggressively open the door. “Damn, she is pissed.” I hear Creeper’s echo as I close the door, as soon I enter the room. Looking at the table, I see them. One is at one end, the other one on the opposite end. I drop my nurse’s bag on the table and cross my arms. “You two have some damn nerve - getting into it again. Jesus. You’re fucking brothers, you are blood – blood don’t do this shit.” I yell with anger and confusion. Silence fills the air as the guys look at each other and up at me. Bishop then looks over to me and quirks an eyebrow and half smile. “Excuse my poor manners, Bish. Your boys tend to make me lose all sanity I have left at the end of a work week.” I tell him as I walk over and give him a warm embrace. “Oh Leah, you’re fine. I know this shit has been out of control recently.” Bishop pauses and looks over to the guys. He takes a deep breath. “I’ll let you handle them now. I’ll be outside if you need a referee.” Bishop exits and I just stand there, crossed arms again. Both boys refuse to look me in the eye, but instead stare each other down. “Are you just going to stand there?” Angel seethes. I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Give me one good reason as to why I should fix the both of you up? Huh? Because as I see it, this is the fourth time this month…THIS MONTH! Angel, please, humor me and explain to me why the fuck I should tend to your wounds yet again? Maybe if I let you both be, you’ll learn these fights aren’t worth it.” I take a deep breath myself, and I run my hand through my tangled hair, which I then end up putting up in a pony tail right after, I’ll just have to remember to find another hair tie to wear on my wrist later. “Alright, I’m sorry I went off. You two, you two just frustrate me.” I say holding my hands up mimicking a surrender. I take another breath and look between the boys. My gaze is drawn to EZ, probably because he’s the easier one out of the two. “Okay, EZ, I see that nasty cut on your cheek, oh and your hand – good going big brother.” I say as I look over to Angel. He looks away the moment I look his way. “Shocker, EZ gets to be first yet again.” Angel chirps. “Seriously?” I snap. “I’m over here fucking bleeding, I could be dying but all you and anyone ever cares about is Ezekiel.” “Shut it Angel, just shut it, please.” I beg. I start to tend to EZ’s war wounds; some cuts, a nasty one on his cheek – I’m guessing Angel’s rings got the best of him this time around. EZ, he doesn’t say much this time I’m here. I know that he feels the same way as me – he’s tired of this back and forth shit with his brother. “EZ, no more. It’s one thing when you all call me to take a bullet out, or to give a rabies shot, but this shit – playground fights, I’m done.” I explain as I place the last bandage strip to his cheek. EZ doesn’t make eye contact, and his jaw is clenched. His knees shaking. “I know, Lee. I’m sorry you’re doing this again.” EZ tells me as he finally meets my eyes for the first time. EZ, he’s easy to read. He wears his emotions in his eyes, his eyes right now are filled with pain and sadness. This whole feud with Angel, it’s taken a toll on everyone in this club. It’s been almost eight months of this fuckery. “Remove the bandage Sunday night, it needs about 48 hours to heal. If you feel the need to remove it beforehand, clean it thoroughly. Have some of your favorite tequila tonight, and you will be good.” I tell EZ as I throw away the things I used to care for him. “Thanks, Lee.” He says as he kisses me on the cheek and walks somberly out of church. My heart aches for EZ, because the pain – physical and emotional is all over his face and body. Angel hasn’t taken his eyes off of the wall nor has he spoken. I slide my bag down the table as I slowly make my way towards him. Rubber gloves are on, and I grab his face. “Let’s see your damage.” I say, like a dog would when a human goes to check their mouth for something, Angel gives me a little tension as I touch his face. Again, no eye contact. A look of annoyance screams from his expression. I see a nasty cut on the side of his head, by his eye – a sensitive area which bleeds more than most. A black eye is also forming. “Jesus Christ, Angel.” I say examining the cut a little further. “This has to stop. I’m begging. I cannot deal with looking at you two like this, because my fear is that one day, I’m going to be too late to help any of you.” “What if it is?” He spews. I scoff, “No more.” Is all I manage to say. I take out an alcohol swab to clean out his cut. “This is going to sting, on the count of three – one, two, three.” I say as I then put the swab against the cut. A loud hiss comes from Angel and an instant reaction of mine is to grab his face and blow lightly at the cut, helping the sting not be so painful. Angel’s eyes then lock with mine, a look of shock and confusion fill his brown eyes. Angel and I, we’ve had a very interesting relationship since I first came to Santo Padre. He gave me an attitude and I gave it right back – he seemed more pissed off when I talked back than just walking away, and the more I talked back, the more tension built up between us. We started out on the wrong foot, and that’s how we have remained. He lets me care for him, depending on the time of day. Sometimes he lets his girlfriend, well I think she’s his girlfriend, Adelita, clean him up. Today, for whatever reason, he stuck around the clubhouse. I continue to blow on his wound, and I wince back in pain for him because I know it had to sting like a bitch. “Uhh, sorry. It’s a habit of mine, when I treat the kids, I have to do this; they hate it too, so that technique helps them...” I ramble and look away because I sense a bit of embarrassment, as I’ve never been “nice” to Angel. I look and reach back at the table to grab what I need next, just as I turn to face Angel again, I notice a very small smile on his face. “What?” I question, because seeing him smile legit concerns me. “It’s nothing, Leah.” He says monotone and lets me continue working on him. A few more minutes go by, and I determine that he doesn’t need any stitches, just a little butterfly work on one of his eyebrows. “Okay, that’s all. No stitches today, that cut on the side of your face, it’s a sensitive area that bleeds more than most. Your eyebrow cut, it’s an awkward cut – it’s ugly but not ugly enough for stitches. My only request is when you clean it out, could you please use both water and soap?” I emphasize. I know how these guys operate. They either use a dirty rag or tap water to clean themselves up. I turn to clean up my stuff and Angel lets out a minor laugh, which catches me off guard. I look at him and quirk an inquisitive look. Angel stands up, he turns behind his chair and lightly pounds his fist to the back of it. “You sounded just like my ma.” He tells me, in the softest voice I have ever heard Angel speak in. I offer him a small smile as I already know what that history is. Angel leaves church, and per usual no other words are spoken, no thank you’s, nothing. I stay behind a few more moments and collect my thoughts and belongings. I hear the door open, at first I’m startled but relieved it’s just Bishop. “How we doin’, sweetheart?” He asks. I let out a very deep sigh and my facial expression tells my feelings of this whole ordeal. Bishop can’t help but laugh, “I know, Lee. I know.” He tells me as he pulls me in for a hug. “I just need to go home and lay in bed and watch a trashy romcom.” I exclaim as I grab my bag. “I think you’ve deserved that, but before you go – you have a visitor.” He tells me. A look of a deer in the head-lights flashes across my face, who the hell could be visiting me? “Just come with me.” Bishop motions for me to take his hand and follow him. Nerves take over, with the Club, you never know what can happen. As I exit the room, I see the guys scattered all over the clubhouse yet all eyes are on me. “Your visitor is the biggest pain in my ass, so make it quick.” Bishop says, but I catch his playfulness I his voice and I look to the bar and I see who Bishop is talking about – Marcus Alvarez.

#Mayans MC #fanfic #My writing #angel reyes #ez reyes

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fixaidea · 6 years ago

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Paris, 1840

It was in the early days of the year 1840 when Monsieur Nicolas Barré, a young, moderately successful novelist fell in with Augustin Perrault and his group of friends. Perrault, done with University, was pursuing a career in journalism and met M. Barré for work related reasons. The working relationship quickly turned into friendship (a quick and easy thing with the young journalist), and soon enough, over a shared glass of wine, Perrault invited him to meet up with the rest of his closest friends.

‘I must say’ Nicolas huffed, clinking his glass against Perrault’s ‘Whatever you told your friends about me, they better lower their expectations. Sure I’m a delight, a true treat to have around’ he winked ‘But political I am not. Not nearly as much as you are.’

Perrault waved his hand in airy dismissal.

‘Never fear. You are no monarchist, and that is all they need. Clavier is more hands-on when it comes to politics but the rest like to hold such issues at arm’s length. No one will begrudge you for not keeping a pet guillotine in your backyard.’

Nicolas chuckled and refilled their glasses.

‘So you’re telling me buying a closetful of red caps to impress them was a waste? Ah well. Now, we are men of the pen, you and I, even if we employ our words quite differently. How about the rest? All writers?’

‘Alain Clavier certainly is, he’s a playwright. Well, in theory at least. In reality he’s a true Renaissance man, doing all things Theatre. Manager, designer, stand-in actor, all of it. René Giraud is an engineer, or rather, currently an assistant to one, Yves Belarbre is a painter. A portraitist, but he has some novel ideas about painting dreams, you’ll see.’

After a couple of more glasses Perrault announced that he still had some obligations to attend to. Just as they were about to part, he turned to Nicolas.

‘I must warn you about one of my friends though, Giraud. He has some peculiar habits, but the one that most concerns you is that he’s rather picky about who gets to touch him. He’s going to allow a handshake, but do not attempt anything more. If he takes a shine to you, he will come to you in his own time.’

Nicolas smiled and nodded, although he did not understand why he needed such a warning – certainly he was affectionate, but nowhere near as much as Perrault, pawning at random strangers was usually not the first thing on his mind. Surely keeping his hands off of one would not be much of a hardship. His nonchalance regarding the matter lasted exactly until the moment of meeting the man in question. René Giraud was on the shorter end of average height, thin and tired looking and, at least in Nicolas’ humble opinion, utterly adorable. He had fluffy, white-blond hair and big, pensive blue eyes.

They did not get to talk too much that first day – as Nicolas later learned this was not simply because Perrault and his friend Alain Clavier dominated every single conversation they took part in, but also because of Giraud’s own quiet nature. Still, all through the evening Nicolas kept sneaking glances at the man and, to his immense satisfaction, found himself being watched in turn. Just before the company disbanded for the night, Giraud sidled up to him. He cocked his head to the side and spoke, eyes fixed on the floor:

‘What do you call a medical-minded dog?’

Caught off guard, Nicolas scratched his beard.

‘I have no idea. What indeed?’

‘Un physi-chien*’

Nicolas blinked. For a moment he was not sure if he truly heard what he did, but René was watching him expectantly out of the corner of his eye. Nicolas’ big body began to shake and soon he was howling with laughter. Giraud, proud of his work, bounced on his heels and smiled, blushing with joy. Nicolas raised his hand to clap him on the back, but caught himself in time and hastily showed his fist into his pocket.

He wiped off his tears. That was it. He needed to win his René-touching privileges as soon as possible.

***

It was the end of May, but the weather resembled the worst of August and Nicolas was painfully stuck. Again. His serialised novel was running out of pre-written chapters at an alarming rate, he needed to catch up with it and soon. He could practically feel his editor breathing down his neck. He was sating at a blank page. In fact, he had been doing just that for the last half an hour, but the words stubbornly refused to manifest. With a deep sigh of defeat he donned his lightest coat and hat. If inspiration would not come on its own, the best he could do was to try and seek it out. After a brief consideration he headed to the Louvre.

He regretted his decision to leave the flat the moment he stepped out of his building. The streets were scorching hot, vibrating above the cobblestones. Dust filled the air and the sun was so blinding, that without the straw hat to protect his eyes, Nicolas doubted he would be able to see a thing. Still, he steeled himself and faced the inferno of the city.

He was richly rewarded for his effort – the inside of the museum was shady and blessedly cool. Few people took the effort or had the time to drag themselves here at his hour, so it was also mostly deserted. He sighed again, this time in relief, and was about to zone out and let himself get lost in the centuries of art surrounding him, when out of the corner of his eye he spotted a familiar mop of blond hair. René Giraud was sitting on a bench, an open notebook in his hands, though when Nicolas stepped closer he noticed he was staring at his feet rather than at the pages. He started when Nicolas greeted him.

‘Ah, hello there, Monsieur Barré! I mean. Nicolas.’

Nicolas smiled and plopped down beside him. He was pleased René was finally gave up on the formal ‘you’ with him, even if he still called him by his surname sometimes.

‘You must be quite the patron of arts to cross the city on such a wretched day just to look at pictures! Or are you, like me, in need of inspiration for something?’

‘Neither, I’m afraid’ René answered. He kept his gaze on his notebook. When they first met Nicolas wondered if he did this because he did not like him or was especially flustered in his presence, but had since come to learn that this was simply something he did with everyone. Avert his eyes or, remembering that you ought to look people in the eye, fix his unblinking gaze upon you.

‘I am here exactly because the day is wretched’ René went on ‘My quarters are unbearable and so are the streets. Everything seems to be so much more intense in this horrible weather. The people are loud and irritable and they stink. I stink, the horses stink, I can barely see, everything is bleached white by the sun, even the sky. It’s either white or that unsettling shade of lilac.’

‘Lilac? I never noticed that.’

‘It is though. A pale lilac. I find it deeply disturbing. Here though…’ he looked up ‘Here it’s cool and quiet and the smells are subdued. I like this place.’

‘Still, it must be boring to just sit here. Walk with me?’

Nicolas thought of offering his hand as they got up, but René was on his feet before him. They wandered the halls in silence for a while. Nicolas knew his friend was not exactly loquacious, but he wondered if this silence was stretching too far. Testing the waters, next time he spotted a particularly interesting painting he stopped before it and quietly started to explain what he knew about it. With others, he tried to guess what the artist might have meant, making up stories on the spot, one wilder and more colourful than the rest. René mostly kept quiet, but seemed to be enjoying himself none the less. Every now and then he inserted his own small remarks or chuckled lightly at Nicolas’ jokes. Encouraged by this, Nicolas was gaining momentum, spinning one astounding, ridiculous tale after the other, compensating for the low voice he kept with sweeping gestures and exaggerated expressions. Soon René was pressing his hand against his mouth, his whole body shaking with the laughter he desperately fought to hold in.

And then he froze.

His smile faltered and slowly disappeared as something behind Nicolas caught his eyes. Nicolas turned, following his gaze.

They were standing in front of a large painting. The canvas was populated by a crowd of figures, faces and bodies contorted by the pain of grief. In the centre, a male figure, a warrior, cradling the body of his fallen companion, face twisted into a mask of anguish.

‘Achilles and Patroclus.’ René whispered.

Nicolas nodded. He waited for his friend to turn away and move on, but he seemed to be hypnotised by the painting. They stood there in silence for a long while, before René finally spoke again.

‘I envy him, in a way.’

‘Who? I cannot for the life of me think of a single enviable character in that story.’

‘Patroclus. How much Achilles loved him, unashamed. He was no dirty little secret.’

It took the both of them a moment to fully realise what he just said. René, scrambling to save face, blushing so fiercely it was visible even in the dim light of the museum, and rushed to continue:

‘I-I mean it’s a touching story no matter how you look at it, I mean, anyone would be grateful for such loyalty from a friend…’

Nicolas took a deep breath and, momentarily forgetting himself, laid a hand on René’s arm. The little engineer froze. Nicolas quickly released him.

‘I understand.’

René peered up at him from under his curls.

‘Do you? Truly?’

Blood was rushing into Nicolas’ face and he suddenly felt very light and somehow detached from his body, as if he was watching the conversation from afar. Still, his friend laid his soul bare before him, if only on accident, he had to know he was not alone.

‘I do. I understand what you meant.’

René kept his big eyes fixed on him for a moment then slowly, so slowly, reached out and laid his hand on his arm. Nicolas’ heart leapt to his throat – carefully he raised his own had and covered René’s with it. They held the connection for a second before René stepped back. He cleared his throat.

‘I must be going now, I have some plans I need to double check. Thank you for this afternoon.’

‘My pleasure’ said Nicolas, eyes fixed on his toes ‘See you back at our café?’

‘Yes. Yes, certainly.’

***

Nicolas wondered if things will change between them and indeed, there was a small but noticable shift in their interactions. Nothing dramatic – unlike Augustin, Nicolas still was not allowed to just walk up to René and cuddle him. Though of course he never tried. Still, at least René would now touch him every now and then. Nothing too personal or overly familiar, rather he simply did not go out of his way anymore to avoid contact. Nicolas tried a little bit of flirting but as the engineer did not respond – or even seemed to notice his attempts – he soon ceased.

It was now July, and Nicolas was in the middle of revising his latest chapter (or more precisely re-arranging the bookshelves while thinking very hard about how he should be revising said chapter) when the knock came. He left the bookshelf somewhat begrudgingly – he was hard at work, creating, how dare people hinder his genius! – and went to answer it, grumbling all the way. He schooled his features into what he hoped was a polite but slightly haughty expression and he opened the door.

The corridor was empty.

Nicolas rolled his eyes – was the half a minute it took him to get to the door truly too long a wait for his visitor? He was about to retreat when he noticed a sheet of paper at his feet. A message then? A prank? A strongly worded appeal from his editor? It turned out to be neither. It was a poem. It was not written in pen, but in letters carefully cut out from a newspaper and glued to a sheet.

TO THE LOVE I DARE NOT NAME

FROM THE SHADOWS I SING YOUR PRAISES SCRAMBLING IN VAIN FOR THE RIGHT PHRASES YOU ARE ROUND AND WARM LIKE THE SUN IN JUNE THE COPPER OF YOUR HAIR IS THE CAUSE OF MY DESPAIRE

HAVE MERCY ON ME, O MUSE

He read it – and read it again. And again. It seemed to be a sincere if terrible love poem. Nicolas tugged at his beard. Was this dedicated to him? The mention of the subject’s bodily proportions and hair colour suggested so, but he was still uncertain. Humming lightly, he folded up the paper and got back to work. He resolved to show the strange little letter to his friends and thought nothing of it for the rest of the day.

When he did in fact pull the sheet out on their next get-together, the reaction of the group was, in the mildest possible terms, explosive. Alain ripped the letter out of his hand and studied it for several minutes, muttering to himself all the way through, before he was forced to relinquish it to a nagging Augustin, and then to Yves. René, reserved as ever, did not attempt to grab for the page, but followed the proceedings with eager eyes.

‘Well then’ Nicolas said ‘What do you gentlemen make of it?’

‘Why, my dear fellow’ said Augustin, leaning back in his seat ‘It is quite obvious. You have a secret admirer!’

Nicolas propped his chin on his hand and laughed.

‘Well, there’s no debating I’m a right catch, any lady would agree I’m sure, but don’t you think it more likely that this would be a nervous amateur trying to show his work off? Maybe try and get a foot in the door of publishing through me?’

Yves waved a hand with a little huff of dismissal.

‘Quite unlikely. If this were a poet interested in getting his name known, surely he would have included just that: his name! No my dear, this is quite obviously a love-stricken if unusually daring and forward lady!’

‘A true little firebrand!’ Alain exclaimed.

René remained quiet. Nicolas searched his face with a slight flicker of hope for any sign that he might be the one behind it, but then dismissed the idea. He could not picture him resigning himself to such bold a move.

‘All right then’ he said, folding up the sheet ‘I suppose my best bet now is to wait and see.’

And see he did. The very next day, about the same time, the knock sounded again. Nicolas, hard at work on his novel (he was cleaning his windows), took some time to answer, so the mysterious visitor was long gone by the time he got to the door. In her – his? wake he left an elegant box of high-end pralines. Nicolas inspected the gift for a message, but found none.

Well then. This certainly seemed to underline the ‘secret admirer’ theory, opposed to the ‘hopeful amateur poet’. Smiling to himself, Nicolas plopped a piece into his mouth and retreated. Excitement was starting to bubble up in his belly – who could this be? Sure, he had his secret hopes for a certain engineer, but with all his loveable qualities, René just did not look like the type for grand romantic gestures. Who else then? Nicolas made a list of all the ladies and gentlemen he knew, but found it entirely unhelpful. He had half a mind to drop everything and go seek out Augustin, even though they were not meant to meet up that day, but decided against it. The group regularly met on Tuesday and Friday nights, sometimes on weekends, and it was only Wednesday. Let’s not rush anything, let’s wait and see what happens next!

Thursday brought him a nice set of steel-tipped pens, complete with ink, all tied up with a bow. Now Nicolas was all but crawling out of his skin with excitement and resolved to catch the person responsible in the act.

On Friday he was fully expecting the knock, but he made a fatal mistake. The weather turned damp and cold, so Nicolas decided to make himself a cup of tea as he waited. The problem was only that his visitor was a full hour early compared to the previous days, so he had a kettle full of boiling water in his hands when the knock came, and by the time he managed to carefully put it down without spilling any of it on himself, his mysterious suitor was gone again. In their wake they left a bouquet.

Nicolas snatched it up and inspected it excitedly. It was a nicely arranged collection of reds, blues and yellows. On a whim, Nicolas quickly averted his eyes. He was keen to find out what message might be coded in there in the flirty language of flowers, but he wanted to decipher it in the presence of his friends. He placed the bouquet in a vase and resolved not to look at it for the rest of the day.

It was an excruciating exercise in temperance and patience and he came close to failing several times, sneaking glances at it every now and then, but miraculously he persisted. Still, it felt like the longest day of his life. He tried to proceed with his writing, but his thought kept floating back to the mysterious gifts and the sound of footsteps fading in the hallway.

When the clock finally struck five he practically flew out the door and did not stop until he reached their café, the Poule Rouge. René was already there, nursing a cup of coffee at his usual seat. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Nicolas flung himself down beside him. He looked up – only be greeted by a mass of flowers shown in his face.

‘From your admirer?’ he asked around the clump of vegetation.

‘I’m assuming yes!’ said Nicolas, leaning in close ‘What do you think?’

René regarded him solemnly for a long moment, then looked down.

‘I think it’s pretty. It has happy colours. I think whoever gave it to you wanted you to be happy.’

Nicolas could feel his lips stretch into a grin. He was about to answer but Alain’s booming voice cut him off. The man entered with Yves on one arm, Augustin on the other. Nicolas held up the bouquet like a trophy.

‘Well, well, well’ said Alain as he slid into the seat across Nicolas and pressed a cup of wine into his hands ‘What have we here?’

The three newcomers – all experts in courtship and all the delicacies it involved – pulled the bouquet into the middle of the table and began to pour over it. Nicolas watched in excitement, but his enthusiasm began to falter as their faces fell. After a couple of minutes they sat back and exchanged some deeply confused glances.

Yves scratched the back of his head.

‘Well this… All right, let’s see. The good news is the cornflower, which means wealth and fortune, the yellow rose, which stands for joy and friendship and the blue iris for faith and hope. But we also have marigold for jealousy and yellow carnation for disappointment and rejection. Also red poppies which mean consolation. So. There’s that.’

Alain propped his chin on his hand.

‘It might not mean anything at all.’

‘No no no, let’s not give up on this so quickly’ said Augustin ‘The lady went out of her way to play this intricate game, surely there must be some sort of message in there. So what do we have? Wealth, friendship or joy, consolation, hope or faith but also jealousy and either disappointment or rejection. This to me speaks of someone who was for some reason disappointed in you, but who values your friendship more than her pride and has hope in repairing your relations. It’s simple!’

‘I don’t think that’s it, not at all’ Yves objected ‘Look at this closely! The poppies and the yellow carnations out-weight the rest – to me, that says the sender has been disappointed to the degree she wants to now part ways. She includes the rose, the iris and the cornflower as a reminder to why she started this game to begin with, but does not wish to continue.’

A heavy lump settled into Nicolas’ throat. Still, he tried to hide his disappointment, so he arranged his features into a smile and laughed.

‘Well, I suppose we shall see about that. We’ll find out if she truly wishes to quit before long – tomorrow at the latest. If the gifts cease I can assume the lady truly meant it and lost interest.’

Soon the topic was changed as Augustin brought up a play he was interested in seeing and the rest of the evening was spent with amicable chatter, though René excused himself early. He had not spoken a single word all evening and after a quick round of goodbyes he hurried away without explanation. As he retreated Nicolas could have sworn he had seen him rubbing at his face.

Nicolas for his part was crestfallen. The presence and chatter of his friends took away the edge of the blow but he was sad to see this interesting affaire come to an end. Not to mention he had no idea what he did wrong to put off his secret admirer this much. With one last sigh he downed his wine. Ah, well. It was nice while it lasted.

The next day he all but managed to put his disappointment out of his mind, though a shard of it was still lodged in his heart like a persistent thorn. He tried to concentrate on his work, failed, tried again, failed, gave up and went for a walk. He went all the way to the Jardin de Luxembourg in hopes of clearing his mind. He was in great need of that – he wrote himself into a corner and had no idea how to rescue his own heroine. Sadly the fragrant air of the park failed to deliver any flashes of inspiration, so with a heavy heart he returned to his flat.

He was almost through the door when a flash of red caught his eye.

A red rose was lying on his threshold. Nicolas carefully picked it up and turned it over in his hand. There was a note attached to it, composed in the same manner the very first poem was, of letters and words cut out from a newspaper.

I HAD NO IDEA FLOWERS MEANT THINGS. THIS IS WHAT I MEANT.

Nicolas stood there, rooted to the threshold for a long time, grinning.

Now he was almost certain of his mysterious admirer’s identity, but still, he was curious about the reactions of his friends. When he entered the tavern the company gathered that night he held aloft the flower like a banner of victory.

‘Confess, gentlemen’ he said ‘Which one of you tattled?’

The rest looked back at him with wide, all-too innocent eyes.

‘What makes you accuse us so?’ Alain asked in the high-pitched, affronted voice of a man who had carried the gossip over half of Paris already. Nicolas showed him the rose and the letter attached.

‘That doesn’t prove anything’ Yves muttered, though he too was reluctant to meet his eyes ‘Your lady may have learned of her mistake independent of our conversation yesterday.’

‘But in such short a notice? Gentlemen, if not someone you passed the news on to, I’m forced to believe it might be one of you!’

Yves and Alain protested loudly, Augustin did not comment, merely shook his head with an amused grin. René, Nicolas noted with some cautious hope, was beet red and refused to move his gaze from his drink.

***

The next week went by without further communication from his suitor. Nicolas was beginning to fear he might have scared him (…or maybe her) away. He was close to despair when finally, on a rather wet, gloomy Saturday the tell-tale knock sounded again. Nicolas raced to catch him, but as usual, his visitor was quicker. He left a letter behind, this time written in ink but in all capital letters so Nicolas still could not recognise the handwriting.

DEAREST,

MEET ME AT THE PÈRE-LACHAISE, AT THÉODORE GÉRICAULT’S TOMB, ONE O’CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON.

This time he did not wait for the agree-upon get-together, he flagged down a coach and raced all the way to Augustin’s lodgings. Luckily he found the man at home and, upon being let in, quickly pushed the letter into his hands.

‘Look at this!’

Contrary to his exuberant enthusiasm so far, Augustin frowned and scratched his head.

‘This could be very good or very bad news. All through this little adventure I had a feeling that all this is way too daring, shameless even, for a lady.’

Nicolas did not wish to draw unneeded attention to the fact that he was quite all right with the mysterious suitor being a man, so he merely hummed his agreement.

‘Still’ he said ‘What’s the worst that might happen?’

Augustin raised an eyebrow.

‘You could be ridiculed at best, robbed or even killed at worst. You will be in the middle of a graveyard. Secluded, with plenty of places for the members of a gang to hide.’

This gave Nicolas a pause.

‘None the less’ he finally said ‘I want to know who is behind this.’

‘At least permit me to go with you!’

Now it was Nicolas’ turn to frown and tug at his bear.

‘A kind offer, but I must decline. Actually…‘ he took a deep breath ‘I have a good idea who this might be, and in case I’m right, I do not want to compromise this person.’

Augustin chuckled lightly and swatted his arm.

‘A true gentleman! Very well then, but promise to be careful!’

Nicolas smiled and pressed his hand.

‘I promise!’

***

The graveyard was all but deserted – Nicolas came across a couple of elderly ladies, the sort that is a permanent fixture of cemeteries all over the world, but none of them paid any attention to him. Though he did ask for directions at the gate it still took him a long time to find Géricault’s grave in the dense labyrinth of tombs. When he finally did he found the scene deserted. Not a single sound, except for the distant murmur of the city beyond the graveyard’s walls. His stomach fell. Was all this an elaborate prank? All this for nothing? And the culprit would not even stick around to witness his humiliation?

He dejectedly kicked a pebble and was about to leave when there – just there behind the edge of the massive block of the monument – he spotter the rim of a top hat. In two quick strides he rounded the tomb.

René Giraud was standing there hunched over, dressed in his best dress coat and shiniest shoes. When Nicolas came to stand in front of him he made an attempt to raise his head and look him in the eye but the task proved too much for him. The rose clenched in his hand was trembling. He wordlessly held it out.

Warm fondness bubbled up in Nicolas’ chest. He yearned to pull René into a hug and never let him go again, but he knew better than to grab him without his consent. He took the professed rose and opened his arms. René shuffled closer, fisted Nicolas’ vest and hid his face in his chest. Slowly, carefully Nicolas completed the embrace. He took off his friend’s hat, set it and the rose aside and gently ran his fingers through his hair. René was trembling from head to toe – Nicolas could only imagine how much courage it must have taken him to go through with this plan. This courage evidently carried him to this point and no further. He looked ready to collapse on the spot. Nicolas held him tighter and began to rock him slowly, continuing to pet his hair.

They stood there for a long while, locked together in an embrace, gently swaying from side to side. Nicolas nuzzled René’s hair. The heart fluttering against his chest started to calm down a bit. Eventually René snuggled against him and spoke up.

‘I’m sorry about the first bouquet.’

‘Don’t be. I think it was beautiful, artificially assigned meanings be damned.’

René giggled and pulled back just enough to be able to rub the back of his neck. Not daring to initiate any other contact just yet, Nicolas quickly nuzzled his nose. René took a deep, shaky breath, latched on to Nicolas’ lapels and pecked him on the lips. Before Nicolas could react he ducked his head again.

Still carefully, as to not scare him away, Nicolas slid a finger under his chin. René allowed this and obediently tilted his head up at Nicolas’ gentle push. Emboldened, Nicolas cupped his cheeks and pressed their foreheads together. After a small pause he tilted his head to the side and kissed him. René’s lips were velvety soft and a little wet – he was clumsily pushing back against Nicolas, evidently unsure of what he was supposed to do. Nicolas slid his hands down onto his shoulders and moved on to kiss a line along his smooth cheeks and jaw. They broke apart, stepped back a bit – and dissolved in a fit of nervous giggles. Nicolas tried to stop but the laughter only intensified, relieved and yet slightly hysterical. Face burning, stomach flipping, Nicolas wiped at his wet eyes and swept René back into a tight embrace. René flung himself into his arms without hesitation. Nicolas smacked one more big, sloppy kiss on his cheek.

‘Sweet René’ he murmured ‘My sweet René.’

*un chien = a dog

#writers on tumblr #mm romance #writeblr #lgbt fiction #historical fiction #fixa writes #rené giraud #nicolas barré

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gotfuckingseven · 7 years ago

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A New Place to Call Home

Hybrid AU

Namjoon x Reader

Masterlist

You were sleeping so peacefully, when someone nudged your shoulder, startling you awake and away from them on instinct, until you realized it was just Youngjae, who worked at the shelter you lived at.

“Y/n, you have a visitor. He’s asked for someone like you. Would you like to meet him?” His voice was soothing as you nodded your head, hopefully about to meet your newest owner. See, the shelter you were at, was designed for hybrids, like yourself, who had previously been in a bad home. The workers made sure that those who adopted from them wouldn’t mistreat the hybrids.

Youngjae left you alone for a minute, so you could change and prepare yourself for the new person. As a bunny hybrid, you were naturally shy, but even more so after your last owner abused you, physically and mentally. Stepping out of your room, you walked to the cafeteria, where you would meet the guy Youngjae talked about.

Before you saw them however, Jinyoung and Jaebum, the only two cat hybrids of the shelter, stopped you. They stood in front of you.

“So. Youngjae told us he has potentially found you a new owner. Are you gonna be okay? Or do you want us there with you for moral support?” Jaebum asked, making you smile at his over protectiveness.

“No, I think I’ll be fine. If I need anything, I’ll just come running to you two after Youngjae. That’s if something bad happens. But, I’ve gotta go.” You gave them each a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, before they left to the other side of the room.

Youngjae was talking to another guy, presumably the one who wanted to meet you. He was tall, and when he smiled there were dimples, which were cute.

“Ah! Y/n, come here sweetheart.” Youngjae caught sight of you, before ushering you over to him. “Y/n, this is Namjoon. He’s looking to adopt right now. Namjoon, this is Y/n. She tends to get shy with new people.” You had clung to Youngjae while he talked, still hesitant about him. “Oh, and please be careful what you say. And try to not raise your voice if something is wrong. She’s dealt with enough of that for an entire lifetime.”

“Go on.” Youngjae urged you forward and away from him, as he took leave of you two, giving you privacy.

“H-hi.” You gave him a small, shy smile, one which he returned.

“Hi there.” My god, those dimples would be the death of you. The two of you made small talk, you learning all about him as you gave him simple answers. You learned he was a lawyer, and that he went to work at 8 am, and came around 6:30 and 7 pm. He didn’t work weekends, unless it was a big case. He preferred to stay in most nights, and was really clumsy. “I think that’s the most I’ve talked about myself in a very long time.” He says with a laugh, before his face turns serious. “So, how would you like to come and stay with me? A permanent new home? You can come home with e today even, if you’d like.” He was so hopeful, and he seemed pretty nice after all.

You nod your head while saying, “Yes.” A smile spread across your face, once you realized you agreed to a new place to call home. One that would actually be a loving and caring home. He nearly picked you up to spin you around, but decided better of it, before bringing his hands to his mouth, and grinning even harder if that were possible.

He went over to Youngjae, you following behind him, as he told him he wanted to go ahead and sign the adoption papers and to take you home today.

“Awesome. If you’ll just sign right here, I will show you to her room, so she can get her things, and then you are free to take her home.” He was smiley as always, making you feel better about leaving the shelter.

“Namjoon, I could still come back here, right? To see Youngjae and the others?” You really hoped he said yes, you would miss never being able to talk to Youngjae, Jinyoung, or Jaebum again. They became your best friends while you’ve been here.

“Of course we can. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t let you come back to see your friends?” He smiled at you as the two of you followed Youngjae, before lightly ruffling your hair, fingertips grazing your ear, making you shiver.

“Ah, here we are.” Youngjae stopped in front of your room, and you walked in, grabbed the few clothes you had, and gave them to Namjoon.

“Here. This is all I really have here. Oh, and this.” You grabbed your two journals and pens/pencils. But you kept a hold of them. You didn’t want anyone else seeing what you’ve drawn. Clutching them close to your chest, Namjoon held your hand as Youngjae led you and Namjoon outside.

“Well Y/n, I guess this is good-bye. You’ll always have a place here, should you ever need to come back. I’ll miss you short-stack.” He had a sad smile on his face as he ruffled your hair, before lightly rubbing the base of your ears. Your eyes closed as you leaned into his touch. He was the one person, apart from Jinyoung or Jaebum, that you would let touch your ears, as they were very sensitive.

Your eyes opened when he stopped, and you had missed the face of longing Namjoon had, which disappeared the moment your eyes opened.

“Well, let’s head on home. Gotta get you some clothes later today, that way we can relax the rest of the weekend. See ya later, Youngjae.” Though you were saddened as you watched the shelter disappear from your sight, you were excited at the thought of a new home. Namjoon was very gentle as he led the way home, but also letting you look and sniff around at all the new sights. As you turned one last corner, he stopped in front of a very nice building. It was apartments, but they were obviously nice. He put a code in on the keypad, and then there was the audible sound of the door unlocking. He opened the door, and then went to an elevator, quickly pressing the button. Stepping in, you glanced down, and realized he hadn’t stopped holding your hand the entire way there. You grinned to yourself, as movement stopped, the doors opened, revealing a short hallway, where he used his key to open the door to the apartment.

It was beautiful inside. To the left was a kitchen, and straight ahead was a living room. A couch on the wall and one in front of the T.V. that was on the wall. On each side of the T.V., were windows, each with a window seat.

“C'mon. I’ll show you the rest of the place.” He smiled almost shyly as he spoke, before moving down the hallway. Your room was across from his, with a full-size bed, a desk, and another window. Then there was the closet and dresser along the same wall, across from the bed. His was set up similarly, but he didn’t have a window. Then he had a guest room, and the bathroom across from said room. At the end of the hallway was a washer and dryer.

“This is so pretty. Thank you so much.” You turned and gave him a hug, nuzzling your face up into his neck. When you pulled away, his cheeks were bright red.

“It’s nothing much, really.” He mumbled. “So,” he cleared his throat, “would you like to go shop for some clothes now?”

“Sure. But can it wait a bit? I’m a little hungry. I haven’t had lunch yet.” After a delicious lunch, with him tripping and nearly dropping it as well, the two of you went to different stores and bought you some new clothes. All the pants had a hole for your tail, as well as the hats for your ears. By the time you got home, it was time for dinner, and you were flat-out exhausted. Sitting on the couch, you slightly curled up, creating warmth as you waited for Namjoon.

As he called out, he didn’t get a response from you, so he was shocked to find you curled up and asleep on the couch. Smiling softly, he went to you, before picking you up, laughing to himself as you nuzzled into him, before he took you to your room and tucking you in. Taking his phone out, he took a quick picture of you laying there all snuggled up to a pillow, before halfway closing the door and going to bed himself.

Over the course of the next few months, Namjoon had been nothing but kind and caring to you. Always making sure you were okay, and during this time, you were finally comfortable enough with him, that he was shocked the day you brought his hand up to your ears, a silent offer to pet them. Since then, he had taken a lot of opportunities to rub your ears, knowing now that it would help you sleep at night. Along with being cuddled by him. Everything was wonderful. Until this one day…

“Joonie! You’re back!!” You ran up to him, capturing him in a hug. He hadn’t been home much the past few weeks, as he had a very important case to work on. He was gone early in the mornings and gone until late at night.

“Y/n.” He gave you a tight lipped smile, making you tilt your head in confusion.

“Joonie? What’s wrong? Please tell me I didn’t do anything to make you angry with me and that’s the cause for your not being home.” You knew he had to work, but your insecurities came tumbling out, as you let out a squeak, realizing what you just said.

“Y/n, just stop for once, ok? I feel like I’m suffocating with how you’ve been hovering over me. I get it. You’re worried and all. But do you think you could tone it down a bit?”

Lowering your head, you mumbled out, “Ok. Good night Namjoon.” You kept your head low as you walked back to your room. You didn’t have the energy to slam it shut like you wanted to, but you did lock it.

You grabbed your little journal, and made an entry for the night.

*I waited up for Joonie. He hasn’t been home early lately. But I hover over him and suffocate him. Or so he says tonight. So, I guess I’ll stop with waiting up for him. And sleeping with him. Unless he explicitly asks, I just won’t do anything to ‘suffocate’ him. Well, I guess that’s all for now.*

After closing your journal, you climb into bed, hugging your oversized teddy bear close, drifting off to sleep.

—————————————————————

For the next week or so, you stopped randomly cuddling with Namjoon on the couch, instead opting to curl in on yourself with your head resting on the arm rest. You wouldn’t greet him at the door, and you’d begun to hide away in your room. He didn’t particularly seem to care about any of that, so you did it more often than not.

—————————————————-

Namjoon had finally finished the long case he’d been working on for weeks now, and felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders. He couldn’t wait to get home to you and snuggle. He sighed just from imagining it. As he stepped foot into the apartment, he noticed it didn’t seem lively like normal.

“Hey, Bunbun, I’m home!” He called out, hoping to entice you to come running to him like normal. He was met with silence, and that’s when he began to worry. You would always come meet him. He made his way through the apartment, checking each room til he came to yours. There you were, lying there, fast asleep, with Jimin next to you. Jimin was a cat-hybrid that lived across the hallway. Jimin had sat up when he walked in, and when he tried getting closer, he actually hissed at him!

“What’s up with you? I’ve never heard you hiss before.”

“Well I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t make her cry.”

“Woah woah, when did I make her cry? And why?” He was beyond confused, but saddened at the thought of you crying because of him!

“You apparently told her to, and I quote, ‘Tone down the hovering. It feels as though I’m suffocating.’ That is what you told my sweet little bunny. Have you been so busy, that you don’t have time for her? That you don’t even remember what you say to her? You know how sensitive she is. Anything you say, will affect her. Now leave, she needs to sleep right now. She spent the last hour crying to me after I came over when she called me.” Jimin huffed, and cuddled back up to you, making you nuzzle your nose into him, your small little tail wiggling in your sleep. He left the room, shutting the door behind him, and went to sit on the couch, contemplating how this came to be.

——————————————————-

“Hey little bunny. Wake up.” Jimin’s soft voice woke you from a very peaceful nap. Still half-asleep, you clung onto him, mumbling a 'five more minutes’, making him giggle cutely. “No my little bunny. You need to get up. One because I have to go back to my home for dinner, but two because you’ve got a visitor. And he really wants to talk to you. Also, you can literally smell how bad he feels. You should go talk to him.”

“Ugh, alright. But if I really want you to, can you come back over after dinner? If I really wanted you over here for the night?” You stared while pouting lightly, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, yes. But only if you don’t like what he says after all this.” He groaned, with you pumping your fist upwards in victory.

“Yes! But okay. You go on out, tell him I’ll be out shortly, ok?” You gave him one last, long hug, before he disappeared through your open doorway.

————————————————————

“She’ll be down shortly. Don’t go in there. Let her come to you. Also, I might come back over if she really wants me to. I just have to tell Hobi and Yoongi.” His owners were pretty easy going, as they were close friends with Namjoon, so it wouldn’t be a big deal for him to come and spend the night. Used to happen all the time until you got comfortable around him.

Ugh, why did he have to be such an idiot and say those things. If only-

“Hey.” You had finally come out after some contemplation.

“Bunbun, hey. I need to apologize to you.” He grabbed your hand, guiding you to sit down beside him.

“Listen. I am so sorry to you Bunbun. I had been so stressed out, work was hectic. And I know that’s no excuse for what I said to you. But it started a chain reaction. I wanted to work as much as possible to get out from under all of it, to try and do it fast. Since I brought my work home with me, I never really had a break. I am so sorry for how I treated you. Will you ever forgive me?” He pleaded, and you stared at him.

“Okay.” You finally muttered after some time. His face lit up it was almost blinding.

“Okay? So all is forgiven?”

“Yes.” All it took was that one word confirmation for him to hug you, one hand resting at the back of your head, the other on your back. You felt him hold back on rubbing your ears, and you grabbed his hand and brought it to your ear, a silent offering he happily took. You were then practically purring, content to finally have things back to normal. Or, as normal as it could be with the both of you.

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emberz7 · 3 years ago

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ah, it's the stimboard anon again 💚 hi! i just wanted to say i love your art even if it's a meme redraw, actually especially if it's a meme redraw, i love the nagito and izuru ones so much, they spark so much joy :D i hope u have a good day, i just wanted you to know that ur art is loved and appreciated and i love you and appreciate you as one artist to another (well, im still learning to draw nagito ahaha, i keep making his hair look like fluffy fur bc im used to drawing pokemon-)

WAHAHAHAHA HI AGAIN :OOO

i lovvveeeee drawing komaeda and izuru together i love drawing people whove forgotten who they are and do many bad things but i like thinking that theyre friends….izuru barely tolerates komaeda but still keeps him out of trouble….sighhh non-canon dynamics that i think about

THANK YOUUUUU i dont even know you but you are so nice to me for no reason <3 im trying to keep focus on why im making art and your words are very meaningful to me.

i think youll get the hang of it! his hair is definitely weird but like in the gross and loveable way, i would definitely say that studying the official art is helpful!

until then, see u later green heart anon!

#ask #YOU ARE SO NICE thank you for making my inbox not empty :)

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ughthatimagineblog · 7 years ago

Text

i’ll see you tomorrow, boyfriend

draco malfoy x reader | university!au

requested: Hey could I get a draco x reader au from his point of view where he meets her in uni and has a crush but tries to hide it? Maybe they become friends (he goes to her dance shows and orchestra performances and such) and he falls more and more until eventually he just blurts out that he's in love?

word count: 3614

warnings: abuse, draco being edgy, lucius malfoy, maybe ooc narcissa a lil bit (its been 5ever since i wrote anything even mentioning her)

a/n: this is an au soooo yeah idk how this went. i liked it. i added in extra plot to make it semi spicy. also if ur sensitive to abuse then pls go away no offense but youll be triggered and i dont want ppl to get upset so i warned u

She caught him. And he was trapped.

It was late winter. He was focused with school and everything was fairly easy. Platinum hairs like feathers ruffled in the cool wind under the hot sun and he took his time walking to his new class of the semester. He was majoring in Business and Biological Engineering. Nothing would distract him from that. He had a goal. Make his father proud.

Life had different plans. Of course Draco would fulfill his destiny of graduating in those majors, but not without a small distraction. Walking into one of the core classes he had this semester he saw her. At first it was a glance. She was beautiful. He lowered his head and took his seat a few rows behind her.

Class began not much longer and Draco could focus but hardly. He knew he shouldn’t have been distracted by some silly girl but this girl was far more than silly. He noted she had the class with a couple of her friends and he would hear her laugh often. Sometimes she would get called out by the professor and shyly quiet down, her face turning red. It made his heart beat. He found it strangely poetic to note he had one. For so long he had disregarded emotion and feelings. Now, he had a new start.

That ‘start’ began a year ago and life at university had grown on him. Nothing was to get in his way. He was a determined student who rarely spoke to people and when he did it was something snarky or completely neutral. The seas of his life were calm. They were fine. You were the storm on the horizon.

The first day with you

Draco could feel the sun and cool air on his skin as he crossed campus to his English class of the semester. He wanted to sneer. The sun was nothing but a large ball of gas and flame to him today. The sun was not supposed to be out. Just another class to pass and then we move on. He thought to himself, walking into the B Block building. He saw a few kids rush into the building before him and they held the door open for him.

He nodded a thanks, his mouth continuously in a tight line and continued to his classroom. It was fairly small. Only about twenty four students. He knew all of them from the past semester or the previous year. Taking a seat about halfway in between the front and back, he opened up his binder and notebook, waiting patiently for class to start. Of course that meant other people were talking in that time. It was the same chatter, Draco knew. About him.

“That’s Draco Malfoy.”

“I heard he didn’t need scholarships. His dad paid for his tuition.” “He’s creepy. I heard he never talks.”

“Really? I heard he’s mean.” “Probably, I mean how can you grow up with people like the Malfoy’s and not be rude.” “Malfoy? He’s a Malfoy?”

It was all the same and he had come to ignore it. It was best to go through school by himself than spend it with loads of friends. It was easier for him. If something were to disrupt that, he would be a goner. His grades would be a goner as well. His father would make him pay.

Class started not much but five minutes later and the professor began to introduce themself. “Hello, class. I am Professor Eva Beverly and I will be your advanced English Composition and Literature class. This class will be easy if you pay attention. One should always be prepared here and if not-” The professor was cut off by the door swinging open and a girl stumbling into the classroom. Your back was facing Draco, but he could hear you say ‘Thank you’ to an advisor in the hall. Once you turned around, his heart nearly dropped. You were stunning and suddenly, his facial expression was one of shock instead of mysterious resentment. “Miss Y/L/N. You are late.” The professor crossed her arms. “I know Professor Beverly, I couldn’t remember which block this class was on so I had to go back to the advisors. I reality I tried to get here five minutes early and-” “Take a seat.” “Yes, ma’am.” You had rambled. Draco, if it were anyone else, would have found it annoying. But it was you. ‘Miss Y/L/N’ If he could only learn your first name. He was in luck. Empty seats surrounded Draco and for once in his life, he thanked whoever would listen for being the kid not anyone would want to sit by. Of course anyone who had any sense that is. But this girl, Draco could see, did not as you chose the seat to his right, in the row in front of him. To your right, a blonde girl wearing a simple flannel was laughing and Draco took it that she was this new girls friend. He recognized the blonde from the beginning of the semester. The both of you were freshman. To his dismay, however, the blonde was also one of the girls whispering about him. He was a goner. No doubt she would tell his beautiful crush all about what a ‘creep’ he was. As Draco dwelled on this, he couldn’t help but how much less of a creep he would be. . . with you.

Four months spent with you.

Fortunate for Draco, the girl, who’s name he learned to be Morgan, had not spoken of him to you, which gave him the chance to speak with you. It was completely out of character, but he set limits for himself. He would not allow you to distract him. Too much. He was in for a disappointment. In a way, Draco was aware of this. In fact, he had been thinking about it on his walk to class that day. His walk, with you. “Do you have any clue the word count Professor Beverly wants to have for our essay this Friday?” You asked Draco. He shrugged slightly. “Shouldn’t be more than two pages or about nine hundred words.” He replied and you grunted, frustrated. “I was hoping it to be more.” He looked at you, a small smirk forming at his lips. He had learned a lot about you in the past month. Your favorite color, what music you liked. He knew of the latter by looking at your phone from his seat. When you used it in class it was to switch from Spotify to Pandora to the Music app and back and forth. You were quite indecisive with your taste and the connection in the class was spotty.

“What, like two thousand words?” Draco inquired. He also learned you were a performing arts major and loved literature as well. You actually were quite popular in the sense that you knew a lot of people and did a lot of things. You were in the theatre department, the University orchestra, a scout for the local charity and the choir. Right now, you had been stressed trying to balance school work with the outside activities. That upcoming weekend, Draco remembered you had both a choir concert and a charity event all in the same day. You also had three core classes out of four periods on four days of the week. He wished he could take some of the load off of your hands and it killed him that he couldn’t. You and Draco had been spending quite a lot of time together and you only started hearing the rumors about him a month after you were seen as friends. You didn’t believe them though. Draco had an intimidating look, but he was quite kind to you and had a fantastic sense of humor. You also found him extremely attractive. The past four months had been filled with you working around school and extracurriculars all with Draco’s help. He went home once a month but you would see him again the Monday following the weekend and he always helped you study. Eventually you moved to sit next to him rather than in front of him and you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at him every once in awhile. You and him did not compute well in your head though. There was something off about him. Something about his family seemed odd. He never spoke of his parents and when he did he used his father's first name but called his mother ‘mom’. You had asked if they were seperated but when he replied negative you left it alone. Unfortunately, this just added onto your worry.

On the other hand, Draco was also worrying about a similar issue. Over the four months his grades had went down by two points. He still had A’s but if there was something Lucius Malfoy didn’t notice, it would be how big of an arse he is. Draco couldn’t attend your events this weekend. And oh, how he wanted to more than anything. He had seen pictures of you at said events before. For the orchestra concert you wore a black dress that made you look stunning and at your last charity event, you wore a beautiful gown that made Draco want to kiss you right then and there. He wanted more than anything to see you look so magical in person, but this was his weekend trip home. He couldn’t miss it. Not on his father’s watch.

“So, can you make it?” You asked, knowing what the answer would most likely be. “No, I have to visit my father. He wants to make sure I’m doing well in school.” He wants to ask why my grades are still not as good as they used to be. He thought to himself. He subconsciously touched the unseen scars on his back from where his father had punished him many times before. “Ah, well tell your mother ‘hello’ for me. And be sure to give her this. It’s for Christmas. I am a few months late but it took me awhile to get ahold of it.” You smiled and handed him a small box you had quickly pulled from your bag. He opened the box to reveal a medium sized necklace with emerald gems. “Y/N. . . You really shouldn’t have.” Draco was speechless. It was beautiful. And for you to do that for his mother, it was baffling. He really liked you. “It’s alright, Draco. Let’s get to class.” You smiled, realizing you reached your classroom. You opened the door for him and you both entered, only for Draco to find it impossible to focus.

The ride home for Draco was impossible. He lived an hour and a half away and it was not long enough. He was only waiting for the dread of going home. Parking his car in the drive, he already saw his father in one of the windows. Checking the time, Draco saw it was six in the evening. Your concert had started and would end in thirty minutes and your charity event started at eight. He sighed, knowing he would be enduring a much worse night. Subconsciously, he clutched your present in his jacket pocket as he approached the front door, his suitcase in his other hand. His mother opened the door and he almost felt relieved, but the feeling quickly left him as he knew his father was still somewhere in the house. “Draco.” His mother smiled and pulled him in for a hug. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Mom.” He sighed in relief, wrapping his arm around her. “Come in, come in.” She ushered Draco into the house and he left his suitcase by the door, only to be greeted by his father. “Father.” Draco greeted. “Draco.” Lucius said, much less fond than his wife. “I understand that your grades are still not well. Is it still because of this girl?” Lucius asked coldly and Narcissa put a hand on her son. “Lucius, not now. He just got home.” She sighed and Lucius shot her a glare. “I will address whatever problems that need to be addressed. Draco?” He replied. “It’s not because of the girl.” He muttered, feeling small. “Is that so? You told your mother you met a girl about four or five months ago. When did your grades drop? Four or five months ago. Before then, nothing was wrong. Now you have some stupid girl around and suddenly your future is compromised.” Lucius spat and Draco felt his hand ball into a fist. “She’s absolutely not stupid.” Draco said, harshly. His father scoffed. “Oh really? Do you know where she lives? Do you even know if she has both parents? If she even has money?” Lucius scoffed and Draco aggressively stepped closer to his father. “She doesn’t have both parents at home but I’m twice the man you are so even I can look past something as petty as being against that.” Draco spat and was met with a sting on his cheek.

A sting, a gasp, a raised hand and the turn of a head.

The sting was delivered by his father's raised hand, causing Draco’s head to turn on impact and his mother to gasp and hurry to his side. Draco inhaled deeply, trying not to let the salt in his tears make his eyes go red. He turned away from his father to his mother. “Mom, Y/N gave this to me to give to you. She said it was for Christmas and it’s a little late and she’s sorry.” Draco calmly handed her the box. He turned to his father. “She also said to apologize for not getting anything for you because she doesn’t know much about you or your interests, but she says she promises to get you a gift for Christmas next time.” Draco said with a sour look. A tear dropped from his eye. “You don’t deserve anything she will ever give you.” Draco said, shaking with anger. His mother, behind him, had opened the gift from you and covered her mouth in shock. She saw the authenticity in the necklace and based on what Draco had told her about you, she knew that it must had cost you a fortune to afford that present for her. And here her husband was, insulting the girl who her son perfectly deserves, despite her social status. “Lucius.” She said with a tight lip. “What?” He snapped at her, his chin tilted high. “It’s not like he’s in love with the thing.” He spat and Draco balled his fists once more. “Actually. . .” Draco paused and looked at his crying mother. “I do.” She smiled. His father looked disgusted. “You what?” He asked. “I love her.” Draco confirmed and turned to the door. He grabbed his suitcase and pulled his mother close. “I’ll meet you every now and again, but I refuse to meet with him.” He whispered under his breath and pulled her in for a hug. He kissed her forehead before opening the door. “Where are you going?” Lucius asked, angrily. “A much better place to support the girl I love and I’m not coming back until you fix the way you see her.” He said harshly before slamming the door.

Draco stopped at a gas station half way back to Uni so he could change into a nice black shirt and some trousers. The argument at home only took thirty minutes so he was making good time. The only problem was traffic. When he did get to campus, however, he did memorize the building the event would be held in. He found a space to park and rushed in, catching the start just as the lights went down. There were a couple open seats in the back and he thought he spotted you towards the front but it was too dark to tell. He just waited patiently, not speaking to the others at his table.

A few people went on stage and spoke about helping children with cancer as well as a few other charities said people were helping. It wasn’t until a blonde woman on stage mentioned your charity that Draco really paid attention. “Now please welcome the founder for the Arts for Acknowledgment program, a program funded by donations here by students to fund educational programs and arts to acknowledge lost or underappreciated cultures, Y/N Y/L/N.”

And then a girl stood up in the crowd and Draco could no longer believe he had ever known you previous to that moment. You were stunning. He knew it was a black tie event, similar to a gala but you looked like royalty. Your hair was pinned back and your gown was a long and beautiful golden dress that had an off shoulder top but flared out to a large bottom.

And the way you walked so graceful onto the stage. The way you smiled to the crowd. He couldn’t help but snicker in contrast to the first day the two of you met. You clumsily falling into the classroom gave him the impression you would do poorly in heels. He was wrong. “Tonight, i would like to thank the help of my fellow classmates for supporting and donating as well as submitting suggestions and artwork. Thank you. I would like to thank my mother, for pushing me to pursue the goal of helping other people. By using my advantages to help those that had none. Thank you. I would love to thank my counselor who has helped me get through every anxiety attack or depressive episode I have had along the way. Really, without you I wouldn’t be as organized as I am with my life.” You laughed and Draco knew he was in love. He smiled. “And finally, I would like to thank my best friend, Draco Malfoy, who has been a silent push these past four months ton really put everything together. He has stayed up late countless nights with me to help put together final touches on payment plans, architectural deals or gallery organizations. Really, he should get some of the credit. I love that man for everything he’s done for me. Thank you.” Your words wavered in the last sentence and Draco’s world was paused. I love that man for everything he’s done for me. The words rang around his head like a pinball machine. Your voice wavered and it only happens when there was something behind your words you weren’t telling.

Draco felt an impulse and he decided to act upon it. “I am here.” He said as loudly as he could without yelling. Heads turned, yours being one of them. One of the women close to the stage looked appalled. “Young man! I don’t think-” “It’s alright.” You said, breathless yet a smile was glued to your face. The woman sat down with a huff and Draco made his way to the stage, his heart nearly exploding every step of the way. If he was wrong about this, he was about to embarrass himself in front of about, say, four hundred people or so.

He reached the mic and away from the mic, you spoke in a hushed tone. “I thought you were with your parents tonight.” He smirked. “You’re much better company.” He smiled and you mirrored his expression. “Ladies and gentlemen, this woman that stands before you is absolutely incredible. Yes, it’s true I stayed up countless nights to help, however, I barely deserve a mention. This project is hers and hers alone and to take any of the credit would be improper. How hard Y/N has had to work to get all of this done transcends me. But she has done it. For so many people. And she says she loves me for all I’ve done for her?” Draco spoke into the mic. “No. I love her for her generosity and all she’s done for you.” He stated, giving you a quick glance and noticed you were tearing up. He turned to you, but made sure the mic was able to pick up his words. “For me to let her go and be with someone else would break my heart.” His heartbeat accelerated. Little did he know, so did yours. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend? You are incredibly intelligent and ambitious with amazing morals. You are kind, funny, and smart both book and street and I would love to make you mine.” Some noises of adoration were heard from the audience. This only egged Draco on. He got down on one knee. “I have had to keep these feelings inside for the past four months. But Y/L, I love you. Very much. Be mine?” He asked and you nodded. There were cheers from the crowd. You could barely hear them once Draco stood up and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. Your heart was on fire. Once turned away, his arm did not leave your side.

You delivered the rest of your speech and the night concluded itself with food, music, and lots of talking. By the end of the night, Draco was walking you back inside your dorm after driving you home.

“I never knew.” You both ended up saying. You both laughed. “Neither did I.” You said, reaching your dorm door. “You looked stunning tonight.” Draco commented, cupping your face. “You look handsome yourself.” You replied before he kissed you once more. “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow. . . Girlfriend.” Draco whispered after pulling away. You giggled and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boyfriend.” You replied and left Draco’s ears ringing with the word. Boyfriend.

hope you enjoyed!

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader au #draco malfoy x reader au #harry potter imagines #fandom imagines #fandom #harry potter fandom #hp imagine #fanfiction

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voidselfshipp · 4 years ago

Text

The Copper War

Chapter 2

Ok to rb

Tw:blood mention

The old base was dirty, dust and sand accumulated in the entrance.

--Youll meet with your co-workers in a bit--pauling said--Meanwhile go unpack..

Jerico nodded--I Will...and uh pauling?,thanks for accepting me here, I ,I wont let you down.

The woman smiled--Its good to have you here, I know you wont

A small smile appeared on his face as the woman left.

And with lazy steps he Walked to the last room on the second floor,and opened the room.

It was small,cozy, an electric heater, a small fan were near the bed.

Red covers, presumably for one person,and a fluffy pillow.

Infront of it,against the wall, a desk with a cork blackboard.

His familiars went to lay on the bed,And he unpacked.

--Oh...there they are--he grabbed some books and left them on his desk.

And a heavy feeling in his chest set in when he grabbed picture of him and his dad.

--Ill make you proud dad...--he whispered to himself,leaving it with the books.

And once everything was tidily put in its place he Walked to the kitchen,singing to himself holding vica in his arms,walking down the stairs into the kitchen.

-- Someday he'll come along

The man I love

And he'll be big and strong

The man I love

And when he comes my way

I'll do my best to make him stay

He'll look at me and smile

I'll understand

And in a little while

He'll take my hand

And though it seems absurd

I know we both won't say a word-- He sang to himself,as the water boiled,unaware of the men entering the kitchen.

The team went to meet their New recruit, what they found was a Man in his thirtys singing cheesy love songs.

--Maybe I shall meet him Sunday

Maybe Monday, maybe not

Still I'm sure to meet him one day

Maybe Tuesday will be my good news day

He'll build a little home

Just meant for two

From which I'll never roam

Who would, would you

And so, all else above

I'm waiting for the man I love

He'll build a little home

Just meant for two

From which I'll never roam

Who would, would you

And so, all else above

I'm waiting for the man I love

Suddenly the New merc stops singing when he finds his team just...standing there as if they were enchanted by his voice.

Pyro,who had their usual battle Gear giggled, and hugged him, greeting them.

--Oh hi, im jerico, Jerico von terra--he said scratching the back of his neck.

--Im scout--A boy,around twenty said--Ya have a nice voice kiddo

--Ah...thanks--Jer answered.

--anyaway let me introduce ya to these morons--scout said-- The grumpy drunken cyclops is demo,the creepy freak that just hugged you is pyro, the big guy is--

--Names Heavy--A thick russian accent said approaching jerico, he was way bigger than him--You have nice voice

--Ah shmucks thanks-- Jeris cheeks Turned bright baby Pink as he awkwardly toyed with his necklace.

--Im zhe medic!nice zo meet jou!--a german Man,maybe in his fifties,still handsome from the New mercs eyes shook his hand-- and ja,zhats blood

Jer shook his head and smiled-- yeah I can see that

The german doctor was taken back--Joure not grossed by it

--eh--jerico shrugged cleaning his hand-- ive seen worse

Suddenly medic perked up with a huge grin'--I already like him!

Jeri chuckled Rolling his eyes.

--engineer,nice to meet ya partner

--nice to meet you too!

--Im zhe spy, and zhe bushman besides me is sniper

After the Introduction some of them left back to their things,not before acting distracted,as jerico kept singing, now quietly.

--He'll build a little home

Just meant for two

From which I'll never roam

Who would, would you

And so, all else above

I'm waiting for the man I love...

When he finished singing however, spy,among sniper,scout and medic bawlled out the room,nobody could know they had feelings!.

--howd ya learn to sing so nicely?,if ya dont mind me askin' --engie Inquired.

--Eh, practice I guess,I really enjoy it,anyway! Ill go by your workshop later,Im workin on some cool stuff to kick greys Manns ass

--Didnt know you knew about machines too son

Jeri giggled--nah im just a kid that knows a lot about steam powered machines,I have a phd and all

--Damn son, thats some old tech --The New merc shrugged and Suddenly pyro talked,or mumbled specifically.

--im sorry...I dont understand

--Pyro asks if they could join ya while ya work

--sure!,I have some snacks if you get hungry

Pyro stood up and grabbed jericos arm dragging him so both could go to Jers room.

While working, pyro took off their mask--Hey!-They said sitting besides him.

--Oh hey pyro whats up?whyd take your mask off?

--I just dont like showing my face much you know? Besides you seem pretty cool, Names lexys!

--Heh thanks lex

And so back to work he went.

#tw//blood mention #tw:blood mention #tw:blood #tw//blood #f/o fic #🔥⚒toughesr coppersmith around⚒🔥

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wovenstarlight · 7 years ago

Text

rambling about ocs

ihani of the viridian tides (cis female, she/her; bi)

“I wanna eat some ice cream!” “is... is that the whole tub?” “...Maybe so.” “ihani,” “You can’t stop me!” “babe, please dont eat the whole tub of ice cream-” [ihani looks mikir dead in the eye as she shoves an entire chunk of solid ice cream into her mouth and promptly gets brainfreeze]

impulsive disaster

easily distracted, but once she’s fixated on something she’s stubborn as all hell

extremely friendly to people when she first meets them. trusts easily and doesn’t let go of that trust quickly

natural leader, you can’t help but get dragged along with her boundless energy

super perceptive but bad at processing it so she’ll notice stuff but won’t understand what it means until wayyy later

best subject is math; favourite subject is physics

mikir of the weeping cliffs (demigirl, she/her or occasionally they/them; lesbian)

“ihani, i love you so much, but im about 99% sure that doing that is going to kill you.” “Haha, don’t worry about it! I got this!” “BABE NO WAIT-”

gets anxious very easily/is super cautious

cares for all her friends like an extra mom

doesn’t trust easily but once you’ve earned her trust she’s a ride or die friend

kind to people mostly for ihani’s sake. she gets upset when mikir is rude to someone ihani considers okay

really intelligent; thinks through all her decisions carefully and as a result is the advisor to the group

best subject is chemistry; favourite subject is english (is super into studying languages, ciphers, other language-related fuckery; is fluent in 4 languages including serhin and is learning a fifth)

jaxeh of the shadow seekers (trans male, he/him; heteroromantic ace)

“JAXEH WHAT’S UP-” “ihani please” “Ah, sorry, I’ll be quiet. Anyway, you wanna come with me to the goods house? Xepho’s working and I wanna keep her company.” “youre going to prank her while shes working” “...” “thats not good you know if you get caught youll be struck from the duty slots” “...” “fine lets go i have a shitton of glitter back at my house”

his magic lets him see/hear/interact with the dead, which has shaped a good deal of his personality

is generally serious, not easily distracted from his topic/goal

will occasionally say super chaotic stuff but in his usual deadpan and his expression doesn’t change at all so everyone wonders if they imagined it

has headaches from all the ghosts talking; he’s pretty quiet and doesn’t like loud noises. frequently carries his noise-cancelling headphones

doesn’t always think through his actions and see their implications

because of this, he mostly lets other people (currently mikir/xepho and sometimes ihani) decide stuff for him

a tiny bit socially anxious- he doesn’t like taking a leading role or acting differently from the “norm” unless he’s following someone else. too much focus on him alone makes him nervous

best subject is history, favourite subject is music

xepho of the silver trails (genderfluid, he/she/they; pan)

“IHANI MY DARLING!!! HOW ARE YOU MY BEST FRIEND?” “I’m fine, Xeph! Got a class, so I gotta rush- sorry, I’ll talk to you later :D” “Thats alright you go ahead! Wouldnt want you to be late.”

“Mikir am I right in saying Ihani doesnt have any class right now?” “yeah, why?” “...She seemed worried about something. You might want to talk to her you know since she trusts you most.”

picked up the art of Being Trustable unintentionally from their diplomat mothers

puts up a front of being overdramatic, overfriendly, and loud; like ihani but More

is a self-proclaimed idiot- pretends to not hear or understand certain things

they’re actually rather quiet, clever and observant

very careful about what they say and how they say it

their decisions, similar to mikir’s, are extremely deeply thought out

are very good at analysing people and correctly predicting whether they can be trusted; they seem to be quick to trust but it’s really just them being perceptive

trust a lot of people but only Trust a handful, the latter of whom they would die for

best subject is english, favourite subject is psychology

ambassador blackthorn pond (nonbinary, fae/faer; demi)

fae has trouble with differentiating between similar sounds- b and p mostly, but also to a lesser degree t/d, g/k, s/z, etc.

is a snarky little shit

not a massive fan of humans, low on trust reserves when it comes to them- but extremely friendly and caring with other Fae or daemons

is civil to others if not well known, but relentlessly teases those fae is close to

(more to be added)

tejasezo (cis male, he/him; aroace)

Big Anxiety

(more to be added!)

arinn of the spirits (trans female, she/her; straight)

to be added

#the trashcan trio #Expanded Version dsjvklsdmlf #still have to add notes on thorn and tejas (and arinn also perhaps) but this should do for now #star.txt #my ocs

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christophersymes · 5 years ago

Text

Celebrity Status

Celebrity Status, an ongoing L(G)B(T)+ story also on Wattpad and Quotev.

<– Previous / Next –>

Chapter Four

A month later, Jules had been down for a while. His depression was in full swing, with a baseball bat full of nails, directly in his face. He'd hardly even made it to class that day, let alone online, and hadn't even gone to work yet and felt like crying. It was taking a lot to do anything, and he felt awful because he wanted to talk to Not-Elías so bad, but couldn't think of words to say aside from

good afternoon

. And he'd hardly spoken yesterday or the day before either. He hated it.

Mason had been hearing less and less from Jules the past few days, even though he'd been sending an embarrassing amount of messages. Jules did message back most times, but when she did she was curt and sounded... off.

masonfucker1000: jules

masonfucker1000: hope ur days going okay

masonfucker1000: hey what if humans were like bees and we had smth like a fucking stinger and if we killed someone w it we died and it was the only legal way to murder

masonfucker1000: i was hanging out w some friends and we ended up playing nerf guns and i somehow got a foam bullet down my pants

familyjules: ah, the only other thing you've ever gotten down ur pants.

masonfucker1000: hey are you okay? im kinda getting worried

masonfucker1000: if someone else threw a salad at you ill kick em

familyjules: afternoon, not-elías.

masonfucker1000: afternoon!! FINALLY!! juliet hath emerged! hey what's been going on???

♦️

Juliet.

He called him Juliet.

Jules froze, staring at the message, feeling tears pricking at his eyes. He hadn't told him, no, but still... He was Jules. Jullian. Anything except Juliet.

He stared at it, then grumbled to himself. "Juliet. Not. Fucking. Juliet." He got out of the truck and slammed the door, angry now that he even had to go to work. He stood by his truck, still staring at the message, then accidentally threw his phone on the concrete in the parking lot and stomped on it.

Then he realized what he'd done. Fuck. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. God damn it! Whatever." He picked up the pieces and pocketed the SIM card, telling himself he'd just buy a new one tonight after work and ship it to his house. He was enough of a dumbass already.

He tossed them in the dumpster as he went inside.

Mason frowned when there was no reply. An hour passed, even. Nothing.

A day.

masonfucker1000: jules? are you okay?

Jules was still upset, and still had no fucking phone.

Two days.

masonfucker1000: jules, please if i did something just talk to me

And a day after that, he was still upset, but at least he had a phone.

Three. Jules had never gone three days without at least a half-assed two word message.

Whenever he was home, he just stared at the message, fuming. Not-Elías had called him Juliet. He had to know him somehow, then, and by his deadname.

On the third day, the anger got bad enough he ended up messaging.

familyjules: how the fuck do you know my name and why are you doing this

Mason had been having lunch with the band when he got the message. He dropped his slice of pizza, mouth still open in shock. His eyes widened, and he excused himself, muttering under his breath that he'd be right back.

masonfucker1000: shit dude, what? juliet?

masonfucker1000: I just sort of guessed that's what it was short for

masonfucker1000: what do you mean???

Jules scoffed, opening Rabbit as fast as he could and sending Not-Elías a link.

As soon as he entered the room, Jules glared at the camera.

"My goddamn name is not Juliet, so stop calling me that. I don't know who the fuck you are, but you must know me and want to get to me now for some reason, so just... fucking stop being a dick—"

Mason gaped at Jules as she immediately started yelling and threatening at him. Jesus fuck.

"—and tell me the truth before I have to figure it out myself and beat your fucking ass. I'm not in the goddamn mood to be led on some goose chase and deal with bigots like you or deal with people who hold some stupid grudge against me. Leave me alone if that's the fucking case, or I will figure shit out and do something."

Not-Elias: jules geez

Not-Elias: holy shit

Not-Elias: i dont understand why youre so angry but im sorry if i pissed you off okay?

Not-Elias: i wont call u that anymore

Not-Elias: message me when you've calmed down

Not-Elias left the room.

Jules was still angry when he left the room. He ended up closing it too, only to reopen it later that night, as well as the fansite. He private messaged Not-Elías a link, promising in some garbled text not to yell again.

familyjules: rabb.it/familyjules pls cone ib i promize not to yellll i midd u

familyjules: misa u

Mason had been thinking about.... whatever that had been with Jules. She'd called him a bigot and talked about grudges. And Juliet was a definite no. He had a theory he was a bit too freaked to think much on. He frowned when he got a just barely comprehensible message. God, was Jules crying or something? He immediately clicked the link.

Jules was leaning back in the chair, pouring himself a shot from the bottle of vodka, singing a Nosam song along with the YouTube video. "Not-Elías!" he exclaimed, speech a little slurred, grinning. He leaned forward too fast and spilled half the shot on his shirt. "Whoops."

He downed the rest to prevent more spillage and then took a sip of Coke. "Hi, I wanted to say I'm sorry for earlier and yelling at you because it's obvious you're not anyone from high school because you're good unlike them. They couldn't even fake it. And I wanted to explain— I'm trans and I was bullied, and I miss you a lot but I've been sad a lot lately and it's cold and cold is triggering and I'm gonna drink more now." He poured himself another shot.

Mason's eyes widened in surprise at the state Jules was in. And then he was concerned. Very concerned.

Not-Elias: is that vodka?

Not-Elias: careful!

And then he froze as Jules spoke. Trans.

Fuck. So, okay. Mason didn't know himself that well after all. That's fine. It was okay. He tried to convince himself of that even if he felt a little nauseous and increasingly out of control.

He'd been such a dick when he was younger. Defensive, reckless, disrespectful, not caring about anyone else and keeping emotions bottled in. He had pretended to be confident, created a version of himself for everyone else and believed it. And once he'd been called out by so many, by Chris, he'd realized what he'd turned into: this sexist, queer-phobic prick, like a jock straight out of a movie.

He worked so hard to figure out why and relearn how he thought about things, about people, thinking about things he said to make sure he wasn't hurting anybody. He spent so much time learning himself inside and out. Actually starting to like himself for once, no more surprises. And even if his chest was aching and he couldn't breathe from hearing Jules say that, he knew he liked Jules a lot. He knew he had to deal with it.

He wasn't straight.

But he didn't know what to think— his own secrecy had been different— but— of course they weren't dating, and online— and Mason couldn't possibly pretend he knew what being trans was like. Whatever reason Jules had had for not telling him was probably a good one, even though it hurt. Mason realized he hadn't responded, and frankly didn't know how.

Not-Elias: okay

Not-Elias: youve def been drinking too much

Not-Elias: jules

Not-Elias: why didnt you tell me?

Mason paused, biting his lip. He didn't want to sound mad, but he was kind of upset. And he deserved to know why, didn't he?

Jules knocked back the shot, then leaned forward to read his messages. "I said I was bullied... They did some online too and I'm super scared about the fansite being a lot of people who could gang up on me sometimes—" Jules's lip trembled a little and he shook his head and touok a deep breath. No crying in front of Not-Elías.

"I was scared when I started thinking more and liking you, 'cause you were new and different and I was having fun talking to you, but you said you were cis and straight and it was actually real hard to even tell you I'm bi. And it's okay if you don't like me now cause you're straight and I'm a dude, I understand that."

Mason frowned at how Jules looked close to tears, instantly angry at everyone who'd hurt her— who'd hurt him.

His stomach turned as he thought about all the times he misgendered him. Oh God, he suddenly felt really sick. All of those shes and hers crawling up his throat.

Not-Elias: oh jules

Not-Elias: no i

Not-Elias: i like you

He bit his lip. Get over it, Mason.

Not-Elias: i guess i'm just gay. go figure

Jules wiped at his face with his shirt, then remembered there was vodka all over it and pouted a little, staring down at it.

Whoa, there was a flash. Mason's breath caught. He definitely saw a nipple and— fuck. But, oh God, was Jules drunk.

Not-Elias: listen do me a favor, baby, no more shots, yeah?

Not-Elias: put the vodka away

Yes, it felt a little weird calling Jules baby for a moment, knowing he was a guy, but it still felt right. Mason was fucking gay.

Oh, poor Andrew. All alone.

Jules read the messages and wanted to cry even more. He felt so silly for hiding it for so long, especially if it was going like this. "Are you sure?" he asked, staring at the messages.

And then the few about the vodka came through and he pouted, though he was blushing a bit at being called baby again. "But I don't wanna. Tomorrow's my day off and drinking is fun!" He grabbed the bottle, cradling it against his chest. "'S like my baby."

Not-Elias: im sure

Not-Elias: a hundred percent

Not-Elias: even if youre a complete mess

Not-Elias: and you've drunk

Not-Elias: youre drunk

Not-Elias: too much more and youll be poisoned

Not-Elias: ill be your baby instead

Jules grinned, leaning forward. His leg was bouncing now. He set down the bottle. "All right," he said. "But you're my baby now. You gotta come hug me."

Not-Elias: nice okay thank you

Not-Elias: u should drink water if you can

Not-Elias: oh i want to. i will

Mason hated this, not being able to talk to Jules. Especially when he was in this state. He needed comfort, and Mason wanted to give it and— damn it, he wished he could just turn on his camera. Maybe he should. He seriously considered it and— no, not right now, when he was drunk.

Jules tuned into the music again and gasped, grinning. He sang along a little, nodding and getting up to get water like he was told, completely forgetting he was in just a tank top and underwear— not even boxers, just underwear. He came back still singing, then lifted the water so Not-Elías could see it. "Water."

Mason whined a bit as Jules stood up, looking away a second later, staring at the tour bus ceiling. Why did the world want to be so generous yet so cruel?

Not-Elias: and you said you're not a singer

Not-Elias: good! drink up!

Jules grinned, taking a drink and leaning back a little in his chair. "Oh—uh— is there anything you want to listen to? Or watch?"

Not-Elias: uhhhhhh

Not-Elias: spongebob?

Jules nodded, opening up Amazon Prime and attempting to search for it. He misspelled it a few times, but got it in the end. "Oh, this is the best episode," Jules said, grinning and hovering over the Bubble Bowl episode.

They watched one and a half episodes, during which Jules had moved from the chair to his bed, putting the laptop on the chair. Mason honestly wasn't paying all that much attention to Spongebob. Jules was so cute, his drunk commentary endearing.

At some point Mason realized Jules had fallen asleep. He smiled, eyes going soft.

He barely thought about it when he turned on the mic.

"Goodnight, Jules."

Jules, fast asleep, groaned a little. "G'night," he mumbled. "Lub you."

Mason's heart jumped to his throat.

"Jules? Are you awake?"

He blushed hard, cheeks hot. He probably wouldn't mention that part to Jules in the morning.

"Nuh uh," Jules hummed, pulling the blanket over himself better. "'m sleep."

Mason laughed lightly. "Really? Sleeptalker, huh? I'll let you sleep. Talk to you in the morning."

Mason had turned off his mic and hadn't even noticed he had fallen asleep.

"Mason? Why're you still on your computer? S' the middle of the night."

Mason jerked awake, blinking as he looked at Jules on-screen and then at Chris on the top bunk across, leaning over the bed and frowning at him sleepily.

Mason sighed, rubbing some sleep out of his eyes. "I think I'm gonna tell Jules," he said.

"What?" Austin grumbled from below Chris, turning and blinking wildly at Mason. His wavy hair was sticking up in all directions, like static or that kid from Meet The Robinsons.

"He said he's gonna tell Jules," Andrew growled from above Mason, grumpy from being woken up, but listening, blankets tugged tight over his otherwise naked body.

Chris supported his chin on his hand as he tried to get a better look at Mason's face. He was serious. "What changed finally?"

Mason sighed, panic returning as his brain turned the lights back on and told him he was supposed to be freaking out. "It keeps getting harder. And we didn't talk for a bit and— last night— tonight he— he's trans. And he was drunk— "

"Wait— "

"Did you say— "

Mason groaned, dropping his face into his pillow. "Don't--"

Andrew wheezed from above him. "Fuck."

"You're— "

"I get to say it! You dumbasses got to come out," Mason whined as he sat up. "I'm not straight. Probably, uh, pan."

Austin started laughing sleepily as he leaned up on his elbow to properly make fun of Mason.

"I saw it coming," Andrew mumbled. "But fuck you."

Chris bit his lip worriedly. "Okay, but remember when that one fan gave out your number and address even though the address was fake, but you had to change your number and— "

Mason sighed loudly. "Yes, I remember."

And he did remember. He'd thought about it quite a bit, all the worst case scenarios. Jules being pissed off at being royally catfished and outting him to the world in the worst way possible, or Jules being way too happy and outting him and not really caring about him, or Jules just completely cutting him off in shock and outrage. Mason shook the thoughts away. "Jules isn't like that. I just— I want her— him to know, I'm sick of lying."

Austin shrugged. "Okay. Your choice, man. Go for it."

Andrew hummed in agreement, giving the idea a thumbs up that Mason didn't even see, already falling asleep again. Chris sighed and smiled, "I'm sure you're right. You're a good judge of character."

Mason smiled, "Thanks."

In the morning, Jules woke up to find he'd fallen asleep on Rabbit with Not-Elias. He smiled, nuzzling his face against the pillow. He was so cute. So good. He remembered getting drunk and telling him everything, and he'd taken it in stride, just accepting...

He sighed, staring at the icon of Mason on the screen. He wished he knew him. This was just making him want to date him more, though he knew his own rules and didn't want to break them. It felt kinda shitty to feel like that, though, especially since Jules wanted to just... live, really, but it felt like there was always something holding him back. He wiped at his eyes, realizing he was crying a little. God, he was so pathetic.

Mason woke up again to see that Jules was awake. He smiled, then noticed he seemed kinda sad. Mason got up, washing his face and brushing his teeth, looking at himself in the mirror for a moment. Well, he looked as good as he usually did, he guessed. He guessed? Fuck. He was nervous. He groaned and put on a hoodie, yawning as he walked past the bunks and sat down, putting his earphones in.

Not-Elias: good morning! how're you feeling?

Jules jumped a little at the message tone, wiping his eyes again to make sure any trace of tears was gone. He disguised it as sleepy rubbing his eyes and smiled. "Morning, Not-Elias. I feel..." Jules considered telling the truth, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He settled on one thing. "Hungover. Kinda tired. My head hurts a little. How are you feeling?"

Not-Elias: a little flipped upside down, honestly

Not-Elias: but uh, overall, pretty good

Not-Elias: okay, actually im a little nervous

Not-Elias: hey

Not-Elias: do u know what would be cool

Not-Elias: u should play me some bass

Jules smiled. "I'm glad you're feeling okay, though. I mean— What happened is... a lot, probably. If you need to talk, I'm here. And you really want to hear me play right now? I— uh— okay." He leaned over, picking up his bass from the stand by his bed.

"I wonder if I can play it laying down." He plucked a few strings, then shifted his hands to play it. He laughed a little. "I guess I can... God, you have no idea how many times I've dropped this thing. I'm shocked it still plays." He lifted it up, grinning.

Mason smiled, watching him fondly as he grabbed the bass and played around with it, rambling and laughing. What was he even going to say? 'Hi, I'm not Elias, I'm Not-Elias, with a dash' or 'I'm Not-Elias, AKA Mason Hill AKA masonfucker1000 AKA an asshole?' or even 'Hey, it's Mason, please don't be mad at me or post about this?'.

God, everything he could think of was woefully lame. It was like his nerves had turned him into Chris.

"There's actually a really bad scratch somewhere on here, I think it's on the back... I dropped it when I first got it because my parents told me some shit, I don't even remember what, but it scared me. Oh— oh, I think it was when my grandpa died. They told me and I just... dropped it. It's funny now, because like... y'know, that was my grandpa, but— "

Mason couldn't take it any longer. He moved the mouse, cursor hovering over the camera icon. It seemed easier to do it when Jules was occupied, it made Mason less nervous than when he was looking at the screen. He turned his mic on first, then his camera, smiling. "Uh, hey," he said softly to get his attention. Hey wasn't exactly what he had wanted to say first, but fuck it. His heart was thumping in his ears.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #lgbt stories #trans stories #lgbt writers #celebritystatus

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gudrunnagel5-blog · 7 years ago

Text

ftv shazia - Ftv Sensi - What Is It?

We sat outside sipping coffee, the old man didnt seem phased by the crisp air. "Youre a nice girl," he said, "you dont abuse your abilities. You wouldnt believe the number who need to be taught to be ethical. Thats why Im willing to teach you." "Im sorry, I have a hard time reading you." He leaned back and tapped his temple beneath www.goodreads.com the brim of his hat. "Cant read me. You use it too much. Well work on that, youve got to learn to turn it off, a skill Ive never had to teach another before." I ftv girls girl rilee sighed. In a sea of voices he was an irritating blob of nothingness. Just undulating silence in a gilded cage. It was alien to me, to talk to someone and not feel their emotions. I shifted in my seat, and pretty nude pictures the hot guy from before exited the shop, talking to the Battista. I couldnt help but watch them go and soak in their lust. "Ah, you do have a vice." He grinned at me from ftv girls pic behind his mug. "Well, this can be a meaningful exercise. Read them. After they leave, wait 5 minutes and follow. If you win, you watch. My nipples stiffened at the words. I would indeed. In a frenzy I cast my mind out and listened intently. She was thinking about his arms and he was thinking about her ass. "No, no. Youll never find where theyre going like that. Look deeper." I closed my eyes and focused. Desire flooded off of them, making me dizzy, flushed. Breathless. It was hard to focus, like being high. I pushed it aside, fought it down. He thought of her ass. He thought of grabbing it, slapping it, he thought of bending her over the bed and... "better. Look closer. Dont feel. Listen." I fought against the desire inside myself, the need I felt. I fought against the waves that pushed against me. I focused, focused and pushed it all out. It was quiet for an instant. No voices. The feelings faded from me and with a rush the voices returned, she thought of his arms holding her, hands squeezing her tits, tongue on her clit. I was ready for it this time, and rode the wave of desire, letting it pass beneath me. Closer I peered, and deeper I listened. Her mom was in town, not at her place. Daytime, couldnt do it in the car. His roommate was away for the week, he thought of his apartment, hed cleaned the day before last. It would be presentable. "Almost ftv girls sex have it" the man whispered to me, the faintest thought placed gently in my ear. He saw the parking lot, the steps leading up, the front door, the route hed take to lead her to the bedroom. He saw the drive there, the route he would take, his address. He thought for a moment that he needed to check the mail but decided he would do it later, and I saw all of it in his mind. I let go. "Good." He said. "Enjoy that, then. ftv girls girl leslie Ill see you tomorrow?" "Where will I find you?" "I know where to find you." He smiled, stood and departed. I couldnt help myself, I oggled the couple as they got into his car. The engine started, and she placed her hand on his thigh. His dick twitched in his pants and he drove. Five minutes couldnt come soon enough. I followed them easily enough, parking in a free spot behind some trees. I cast out my mind and felt them. "Im Dan by the way," he said, breathless against her collar bone. She giggled "Im Dana." She bent her head low to kiss him, exploring his mouth with her tongue. Dana reached down and lifted his shirt over his head, running her hands along his chest. He was kinda chubby. Dana liked that, and I did too. She lifted her own shirt, crossing her arms in front of herself. She was smoking. Fair skin, raven dark hair and a wry grin. She was petite but her shirt hid perky tits that begged to be touched. The tattoes under her breasts were bright blue and violet, little shooting stars. Dan thought hed like to shoot his cum on them too. His hands were strong on her breasts, caressing them through the bra, savoring the flesh of her cleavage. All at once he leaned into her and undid the clasp, exposing her bountiful breasts, tipped in bring pink. His mouth was warm on them, and his teeth were gentle. In my car, I closed my eyes and leaned my seat back, covering myself with my jacket as I slid my hand down my pants. He did the same. Dana and I were wet, and her moan matched my own. They stood there like that for a time, his fingers tickling her gently, then more firmly. She stripped off her panties, letting them fall around her ankles. Dans cock got harder as he lifted her up and set her on the bed. She spread her legs wide and gripped him by the ears, pushing him down. He obliged willingly, pressing his tongue against her clit. Dan savored the flavor of her, and I licked my lips. He was gentle, almost a tease. He kissed her and picked up the pace, gently sliding his finger into her pussy, she gasped as he slid in another. He was deft. His fingers matched the rhythm of his tongue. The orgasm took her by surprise as she shuddered and bucked, moaning, crying out. "Yes!" She managed, "oh God, yes! Yes! Please!" She rode wave after wave, rocking her hips against the cut jaw of her lover. At last the waves abated, and she beckoned him to come nearer. Still reeling from the after shocks, she struggled with his fly and managed it after this third try. Reaching into his jeans she was pleased to find a half hard cock. Sitting up, Dana took it into her mouth, taking it to the base. It was tough, even at half mast it was all she could take without gagging. He stiffened quickly, and he removed his jeans. "I want it in my pussy." He moved back and pressed his cock against her lips. I moaned and pressed two fingers against my clit. Not the same. He stopped to slip on a condom, and moved closer. He teased her once, twice, and then gave her the whole thing. Wow. It was thick hard and powerful. He moved well, thrusting passionately into her pussy. "She wants it from behind," I whispered to myself, and was angry when she said nothing. Fuck it. I sent the thought to him. His face rose at the idea and he gently withdrew and turned her over, entering her from behind. Yes! This was what she wanted! This is what I wanted! He held her hips and thrust into her. I gave him the idea to spank her. The sensation came as a rush as he did. God yes! Again he slapped her ass. A third time. I came. Waves of pleasure washed over me, as he reached his limit. He thrust quickly, pulling out, tearing off the condom and cumming on her ass. The wet warmth was heavenly as I continued to cum, he shot thick white ropes across her ass. Our orgasms ended at the same time, as he slapped her ass again with both hands. Relieved, I took a few minutes to recover, sat up and drove away, leaving the lovers to themselves. I had gotten what I neede

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