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lostinthewiind · 3 years ago

Note

Sorry for already requesting again, I’m just slightly obsessed with your writing. Could I request another Poly!Matchablossom where they take care of the reader when they are on their period and in pain? If you want to keep the reader more neutral, I totally understand and would change the request to the reader just generally not feeling well. Thank you in advance!

Polyamorous Relationship w/ Joe & Cherry: Period Pains

A/N: okay so I love this request because I'm single AF and every time I get horrendous cramps during my period I wish I had someone to take care of me, but alas, I just have to curl up in my heated blanket alone :( Anyway, I shall now live vicariously through this fic. If anyone would like a gender neutral fic with the reader just being sick or something, let me know!

Rating: PG13

Warnings: mentions menstrual cramps and general period problems that some of us unfortunate souls have to endure once a goddamn month, mentions nudity, tiny bit spicy

All things considered, it was shaping up to be a good day. The sun was shining bright, the warm rays peeking through the curtains of the apartment you shared with your boyfriends. Birds were chirping happily outside, waking the city with their beautiful song, and it was the weekend, so you didn’t have to go to work.

It was going to be a great day . . . well, it would have been a great day if you weren’t currently experiencing some of the worst period cramps of your life. Because of this painful monthly inconvenience, all the things that would normally make you smile were thoroughly pissing you off.

The sun shining through the crack in the curtains and the chirping birds acted as a taunting reminder that it was morning and that you hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep that night thanks to your uncomfortable cramps and aching body. Sometime during the night, you had been forced to sneak your way out of the bedroom and set up camp on the couch for fear of waking your boyfriends with your constant tossing and turning.

This, however, wasn’t nearly enough to sooth you to sleep. If anything, it only made things worse because you never slept well without Joe and Cherry by your side. So, after popping a couple painkillers and downing a glass of cold water, you resigned yourself to lying awake on the couch for almost the entire night, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to break out into sobs due to pain, frustration, and exhaustion.

Hearing the bedroom door open, you tilted your head slightly and watched as your boyfriends emerged from the bedroom dawning housecoats on their bodies and happy, sleepy smiles on their faces. At least they were enjoying everything this wonderful Saturday had to offer.

“Good morning,” Cherry greeted you with a quick peck on the forehead as he passed you on the way to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. “You’re up early.”

You winced and squinted as Joe threw the curtains open, flooding the room with blinding light. “That assumes I went to sleep at all,” you scoffed, your eyes slowly adjusting to the sun rays shining directly in your eyes.

“You haven’t slept?” Joe walked over to the couch, squatted down in front of you, and placed the back of his hand to your forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

You grimaced and swatted his hand away, knowing deep down that he was only trying to be nice but being bothered nonetheless. “No, my body is trying to rip me apart from the inside out!” You grabbed a throw pillow from the couch, pressed it firmly over your face, and groaned loudly. “I’m in pain!”

Joe and Cherry, who were familiar with how intense your periods could be by now, shared a knowing look from across the apartment. As much as you tried not to, you tended to lash out a little when the cramping kept you from sleeping or doing any of the daily activities you were used to.

“Cramps?” Joe inquired despite already knowing the answer. When you nodded from underneath the pillow, moving the pillow along with your head movements, Joe placed his large hand on your lower abdomen and pressed down firmly. Then, without hesitation, he began to massage the internal muscles that were causing you such distress. “How’s this?” he checked to see if his actions were helping or hurting.

You sighed, your entire body relaxing into his touch as he massaged away some of the discomfort. “Feels good,” you mumbled, finally lifting the pillow from your face and setting it to the side. “I took medication but it didn’t help at all. It’s really bad this month.”

“Do you want any coffee?” Cherry called softly from the kitchen, pausing after he opened the cabinet until he knew if he needed two or three mugs.

At the thought of drinking anything that wasn’t water, your stomach turned. “No, thank you.” You shook your head.

After setting the mugs atop the counter, Cherry shuffled over to the back of the couch and leaned over it to caress your cheek lovingly. “Nauseous?” he asked.

You nodded. “And I have a headache,” you added, “but that could be from lack of sleep or because I haven’t eaten anything in a while . . . or simply because the universe hates me.”

“The universe doesn’t hate you,” Joe assured you as he moved your legs a little so he could sit on the couch with you before laying your legs across his lap and continuing his massaging. “But even if it does, we love you so it doesn’t matter.”

You chuckled slightly as Cherry returned to the kitchen. “Thanks.” You tried your best to sound sincere but due to your exhaustion-induced monotone voice, you sounded more annoyed than anything.

“So you spent most of the night out here?” Joe questioned, his rough hands shooing the pain away one skilled movement after another.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I couldn’t get comfortable and didn’t want to wake you guys. No sense in all three of us not getting any sleep just because I was born with an organ that is infused with the wrath of Satan himself.”

Joe laughed under his breath. “You really do reach new levels of anger during this time of the month,” he commented. “Good thing you don’t take it out on us . . . most of the time.”

“I’m sorry,” you shot him a sheepish look, apologizing for all the times you had treated him and Cherry rudely because of your mood swings and pain. “I don’t mean it.”

Joe noticed the guilty look on your face and immediately felt bad. “I was just kidding, love.” He pulled your close to his body and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “We know you don’t mean it.”

“Good.” You tucked your face into the crook of his neck.

Removing his hands from your stomach, Joe ran his fingers through your hair and kissed you again. “Do you feel any better?”

“A little,” you forced a small smile. “Thank you.”

Just then, Cherry appeared before the two of you with two mugs of coffee in his hands. After handing one to Joe, he looked down at you with a sympathetic look on his face. “You should eat something, darling,” he told you.

“I know,” you agreed. “I’m just not hungry.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, Cherry lost himself in thought for a few moments while he tried to brainstorm a way to get you feeling good enough to be able to put some food in your body. Then, without saying anything, he turned on his heel, walked away, and disappeared inside the bathroom.

Seconds later, you could hear water running and could smell the faint scent of your favourite bubble bath wafting into the living room. “A warm bath sounds wonderful,” Joe whispered in your ear, catching onto what Cherry’s plan was. “Take a relaxing bath with Kaoru to ease your muscles and by the time you’re done I’ll have breakfast ready. How does that sound?”

“Perfect.” The thought of soaking in hot water was nearly enough to put you to sleep right then and there. “The only way it could be better was if we had a bathtub big enough for the three of us.”

“I agree.” Joe kissed the shell of your ear. “I’ll join you next time.”

“Okay.”

Minutes later, the sound of running water ceased and Cherry emerged from the bathroom. “Come now, beautiful.” He lifted you out of Joe’s arms and into his own, years of skating at S gifting him with muscles that hid beneath his slender frame. “Better get to cooking, Kojiro.” He eyed the other man.

“Okay, damn.” Joe held up his hands in defense as you and Cherry headed for the bathroom. “Let a man take a few sips of coffee first.”

You chuckled lightly, seeing through Cherry’s remark and knowing he did it just to coax a laugh out of you like you did whenever the two bickered about nonsense, which he had achieved.

“There’s that beautiful laugh,” Cherry commented, smiling at the sight of your amusement. “I wish I could do more to ease your pain but I hope this helps even a little.”

“Of course it will help,” you told him as he set you down and closed the bathroom door behind the two of you to keep the heat inside the room.

After stripping and setting your clothes to the side, you stepped into the warm bath and let out a relieved sigh like you had when Joe had massaged you. As you sank down into the water and the beautifully scented bubbles surrounded your body, you felt your muscles begin to relax. Letting your eyes flutter shut, you basked in the euphoric feeling of being comfortable for the first time in hours.

“You look content.” Cherry’s voice was soft and quiet, careful not to startle you out of your happy daze. “Can I do anything else?”

“You can join me.” You extended your hand toward him. “Will you? Please?”

Cherry smiled as he too began undressing. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” he assured you, and as you slid forward to make room for him, he sank down behind you and the water sloshed against the sides of the tub as the two of you maneuvered into a comfortable position.

As Cherry wrapped his arms around you from behind, you leaned back into his chest and smiled happily when he rested his chin on top of your head. The two of you stayed like that in complete silence for a while, just enjoying the time you had to spend with each other.

“We should do this more often.” Cherry spoke after a while, sounding like he was enjoying the bath even more than you were. “I could almost fall asleep like this.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you warned. “I’m so tired.”

“You just close your eyes and relax.” He held you tighter. “I wont let you drown.”

“Promise?” you joked.

Cherry scoffed and rolled his eyes at you. “Yes, I promise.” He dipped his head down and began peppering your cheek, jaw, and neck with kisses, nips, and kitten licks. “I’m here for you. Whatever you want . . . I just want you to feel good.”

“That definitely feels good.” A small moan escaped your lips as you tilted your head to the side to allow your boyfriend easier access to your neck. “Very good.”

Once Cherry’s mouth reached your shoulder, he slid his tongue along your skin as he moved back up to your ear so he could work his way down again. “You know what else would feel good?” You felt him smirk against your flesh, but before he could elaborate, the bathroom door opened and Joe strode in with a spoon of something in his hand.

Stopping halfway between the door and the tub, Joe narrowed his eyes at the two of you. “You know, I’m feeling very left out right now.”

“It’s not always about you.” Cherry scowled, clearly upset about being interrupted. “Ever heard of knocking?“

“I’ve seen you both naked before. Many times. I don’t need to knock.” Joe brushed off Cherry’s concern and approached with the spoon held out toward you. “Does this taste good?”

Now that your nausea had subsided and you were actually beginning to feel hungry, you happily opened your mouth and tasted whatever it was that Joe had created in the kitchen. You didn’t know what it was, but it was some sort of sauce and it was sweet.

“It’s very good,” you assured him. “But everything you make is good.”

Joe’s face lit up at the compliment. “Not too sweet?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Ahem,” Cherry cleared his throat. “I’m here too, you know. Do I get a taste?”

“It’s not always about you.” Joe threw his own words back at him before smiling sweetly at you. “Breakfast will be ready soon. I’ll call you.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t help but return the smile, feeling much better than you had earlier.

Before Joe left, he pressed a kiss to your lips and a peck to Cherry’s head as a peace offering to make up for the two’s nattering at one another before. Then, he was gone and the sound of him working in the kitchen filled the apartment.

“What did he feed you?” Cherry questioned, running the tips of his slender fingers up your arm and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You shrugged. “I have no idea, but it was delicious.”

“Mmm,” Cherry hummed, his mouth quickly finding its way back to your skin and sucking on your shoulder. “You know what else is delicious?”

You giggled when he grazed his teeth across a ticklish spot on your neck. “Breakfast is soon. You aren’t allowed to eat me.”

“But you taste so good, I just want to-”

“Kaoru, could you come help me?” Joe called from the kitchen, almost as if he knew what the two of you were up to and was interrupting again on purpose.

Cherry’s head fell back and he huffed. “Oh, my God. Is five minutes alone too much to ask?”

Dropping your head back onto Cherry’s shoulder, you pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the nape of his neck. “Don’t go. Pretend you didn’t hear him.”

Cherry squinted down at you quizzically. “What’s gotten into you? You’re usually the one encouraging me to be nicer to him.”

“I know . . . but just this once, please?” You batted your eyelashes at him. “If he thinks we didn’t hear him, he’ll come to get you and then we can convince him to let us stay in the bath a little longer. It’s just so warm . . . I don’t want to get out yet.”

“But the food will get cold.”

Your eyes grew as wide as dinner plates at your sudden idea. “Do you think we can eat breakfast in the bath?”

Cherry laughed heartily at that. “Well if you ask Kojiro with the same wondrous expression you just gave me, I don’t think there is any way he could say no. He might even feed you if you say please and kiss that spot behind his ear that he really likes.”

“I hope so.” You felt like you were in heaven with the thought of being fed delicious food in a warm bubble bath. “It’s worth a try, at least.”

“Indeed it is.” Cherry kissed the top of your head, truly happy with how much your mood had lifted in such a short amount of time and proud of himself that he had helped make that happen.

With your eyes glued to the door, waiting for your other boyfriend to walk back into the bathroom, you exhaled contently. Maybe today was shaping up to be a good day after all.

#sk8 the infinity #lostinthewiind #fluff #sk8 joe #sk8 cherry blossom #sakurayashiki karou #nanjo kojiro #reader imagine #x reader #reader insert #polyamorous relationship with cherry and joe #polyamourous #polyamory

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merryfortune · 2 years ago

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Strange and Torrid Feelings

Written for Launch The Ship | @launchtheship

Title: Strange and Torrid Feelings

Ship: Masami/Yuriko

Fandom: Tropical Rouge Pretty Cure

Word Count: 1,566

Rating: T

Tags: Crushes

Yuriko was very pretty. And she didn’t even need to flout the guidelines regarding makeup inside of the school’s handbook to achieve this. That impressed Masami somewhat but she didn’t know exactly what to make of it or how her heart fluttered when she mused just a touch too long on Yuriko’s outer appearance.

Her eyes were daring and sharp, framed by long, clean lashes. Her pupils were clear but slitted, giving her an almost birdlike look, fitting of her name. Her skin was pale, flawless, born that way, Masami would think, not borne of overly harsh products. Her hair was shiny. Her uniform was perpetually neat and never wrinkled.

Being of firm mind and firm face, Masami prioritised heart and ethics over superficial values such as what a person looked like. She cared about how they acted, how they carried themselves, how they treated other people. To Masami, these were the core foundations of her values and her worldview.

She liked facts, she liked it when things were simple. Things around Yuriko were most certainly not simple. But at least the rumours had been chased away. She could take some cold comfort in that but there was clearly more going on in this school and as the leader of the disciplinary committee, it was Masami’s duty to get to the bottom of this.

Probing the very odd and highly unusual Tropical Club was just the start but possibly, if she had deft and grace, things she worried she did not have, then maybe Yuriko might gift her with a bit more information. Surely such sharp - and even beautiful - eyes such as hers noticed something that Masami did not in her black and white vision.

“Why would you bring up such old news?” Yuriko sighed. Irate.

“Apologies, I did not realise it was such a sore point.” Masami replied.

The afternoon was quiet. Another search of the Tropical Club had proven fruitless. Whatever their eccentricity, it was eccentricity within the bounds of acceptable behaviour. Unbelievably. Honestly, their diverse and varied extracurricular studies, and their commitment to them and their lesson plans, actually ought to be admired but there was just something so… fishy about them! Masami couldn’t pinpoint it.

But Asuka had let slip something as she, in her presidential right to dislike questions and unfairness, chased Masami off and cursed Yuriko for it. That touched a nerve, Masami sensed so, she thought she would ask Yuriko for her side of it or the reason why. Masami regretted that now as she had a bandaid on her nose for it now, at least metaphorically.

Masami stole another look at Yuriko. How she gritted her teeth and how her eyes gaze was distant. Following her line of sight, Masami noticed that Yuriko’s gaze was now out towards the sporting fields on the school grounds. Fond but bittersweet. She looked as though she were mulling something over. Something that, if Masami had to guess, was named Asuka.

She felt her stomach twist and knot. She disliked thinking about Yuriko thinking about Asuka but again. She couldn’t pinpoint or place why. So, she stewed in that discomfort, holding the hem of her skirt as she waited for either her brain to provide something useful to say - or for Yuriko to break the silence.

Thankfully, she did, sighing again, “It's old news and it would be untoward of me to say that I couldn’t have behaved better in that situation. A good person displays self-awareness and thus, it would be remiss if I said I didn’t acknowledge that I was wrong to do so little but Asuka was wrong to do so much. As you would know, there are more well-written ways to behave in conflict but alas, real life isn’t always so scripted.”

Her words were wise and Masami soaked them in. Her heart fluttered. She hung onto every word of Yuriko’s as though there were an extract from a holy book. Yuriko noticed. She smiled.

“I think you would have done the best you could.” Masami stammered. She unintentionally stamped her foot to emphasise. The rhythm of it knocked her own heart good. Or maybe worse. That flutter seemed quicker now - and harder, like a throb. A good and proper throb.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Kakuta.” Yuriko diplomatically replied.

Her insincerity of the statement wounded Masami. Especially because she meant it so genuinely, from every fathom of her heart and soul. She knew what President Shiratori was like and thus, had not even the sliver of a shadow of doubt that Yuriko would flounder some problem from years ago. Masami swallowed.

“You're welcome.” Masami murmured.

“You're very sweet, Masami, I can assure you that but not yet.” Yuriko replied. Her voice was soft, silky, sensual.

She reached out and Masami flinched. She didn’t know why she flinched, nor why her eyes were watering. Yuriko was gentle as she tucked a strand of Masami’s hair behind her ear. It was pink.

“Very sweet, very cute.” Yuriko teased her.

“Am not!” Masami denied. “I-I’m not cute. Someone like me is not cute.”

Yuriko giggled at Masami’s defence. That only made her prickle more, embarrassed her more. Her face burned red.

“I think you're very cute, Masami, I wouldn’t lie to you. I hope you see that one day.” Yuriko replied.

“I-I’ll work on it.” Masami earnestly replied.

She was flustered to be called her given name over her family name, it sounded so much more beautiful when it came from Yuriko’s lips. Her beautiful lips, painted only in a protective balm, likely not even flavoured. Masami was quick to scold herself for making such assumptions but again. Yuriko did not flout rules. She valued them deeply, just like her.

Unable to say much more, there was still enough in what Masami had given in response. That notion glistened in Yuriko’s yellow eyes. Masami just sat there, gawking, causing a horrid and awkward tension. For her at least, she couldn’t quite tell what Yuriko was thinking as a thick sensation became a welt in Masami’s throat. Tightening it. Her stomach then twisted again. Just to make her feel worse, Masami was sure.

But, more pleasantly, the feeling of Yuriko’s long, slender fingers in her hair remained as well.

“I - I have squandered your time long enough, I think,” Masami said and she got up from the table they had been sharing, she was all a mess, flustered and off-kilt, “I better go.”

“A shame, I do enjoy your company, Kakuta.” Yuriko lamented but she let Masami go.

Masami stormed off. Her heart pounded, her cheeks still red hot. When she left the council’s room, it was like a weight off her shoulders and she breathed in the fresh air of the corridor. That twisting feeling was in her stomach. It all compounded on top of Yuriko’s final address unto herr as well; a return to her family name over her given name. It felt like salt rubbed into a wound - one that Masami didn’t even know she had.

She didn’t understand it. Any of it. She felt more confused than before she started poking her nose in places that it clearly didn’t belong.

Masami squeezed her eyes shut. All she could think about was how Yuriko had touched her, just slightly, and how such a simple gesture was able to cause her to quake like this. Yuriko’s words, they were as wise as they were humble and amplified all of what Masami was trying to distract from as they caused a storm. Not calm like her demeanour would insinuate, they spurred such deep and wild things, like a racing heartbeat and sweaty palms and Masami just didn’t understand.

She felt… Excluded, truth be told. She tried to tamp down on all these awful, welling up feelings and tried to focus on the facts. There was a rumour about a mermaid and then a strange girl showed up. The Tropical Club acted strangely and the aforementioned strange girl quickly became a member of said club. Making it even stranger in Masami’s mind. Asuka is a member of the Tropical Club. She has a torrid history with Yuriko. And Yuriko… makes her feel strange. And torrid.

It all pent up and clumped inside of Masami’s chest. She just couldn’t work it out. The mystery which was swirling around her, evading her at every investigative look. She was missing facts, she was missing vital pieces in the very framework in which she looked at the world through and it infuriated her. To not know, to not feel like she deserved to know, even.

A single, hot tear dribbled down the side of her face as Masami listened to her heart pound in her ears. She felt sick to her stomach, a funny sort of sickness which was more mental than physical yet stirred her up so awful. Just who was the new girl and was she connected to that absurd rumour about there being a mermaid at school? What was the incident which had caused such bad blood between Asuka and Yuriko?

And… And what was it about Yuriko which made her own, internal world go so topsy-turvy, so strange and torrid? Argh! Why couldn’t things be as easy as reading and executing a rulebook? Printed nice and simple in black and white.

Masami needed answers. Answers, she realised, she wasn’t going to get.

#femslash #launchtheship #masami x yuriko #yuriko x masami #launch the ship #tropical rouge precure #tropical rouge pretty cure #tropical rouge #precure #masami kakuta #kakuta masami #shiratori yuriko #yuriko shiratori #writing tag

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mm2305 · 3 years ago

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What Ethan & Olivia AU is this? #OpenHeartAU

An eventful encounter

Pairing : Ethan Ramsey x Olivia Valentine || Rating/Genre : Teen+/romance, general || Warnings / Words : none / 2.8k ||Setting : Alternate Universe - Regency Era || Disclaimer : all characters and pictures belong to the rightful owners

Summary : During one of her trips in town, Olivia meets the newly-arrived Dr. Ramsey.

A/N : Let me start by saying that this has been in my inbox for almost a month and I'm so sorry for the long wait. Secondly, this was something completely new to me, since it's set in a different time and universe, but still very fun to write! No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I really hope this comes out good enough :)

Enjoy!

My masterlist

-/-

Somewhere in the England of 1816

Olivia's pov

"Oh come on you little bugger", a young woman sighed exasperated, looking at her reflection in the vanity. She had been trying for the last twenty minutes to gather her long hair with some pins, but it was difficult to contain all of it in them. Finally, she got ready and rushed down the stairs of her home, Edenbrook Manor.

"Mrs Clarke? Where are you?"

"I am in the kitchens Miss Olivia!", the other woman replied.

Olivia followed the stairwell leading to the kitchen and greeted Mrs Clarke, one of the people who worked in her home. She was more than that to her though, since she was the one who practically raised her, her friend and closest confidant. Her father, Ernest Valentine, was a merchant, quite known for his successful business, but was away from home most of the year, coming only a few weeks at a time. Therefore, her mother, Anne Valentine, was left to manage most of the affairs regarding the estate and surrounding grounds they owned. Both did love her dearly, they just didn't have time for her. Since she had no siblings, she was left with no one's company but Mrs Clarke's ,who in her and her family's eyes had become a member of the Valentine family too.

"Do you need anything else from the market Mrs Clarke?"

"No Miss, that's everything we need. Are you sure you want to go, though ?"

Having grown up close to her, Olivia was always helping around the house in whatever ways she could, even though she wasn't expected or needed to do so. Of course, she didn't neglect her occasional music , embroidery and drawing lessons, even though her true passion was biology, anatomy and science. In another world she imagined herself being a doctor, but since that wasn't possible, she just made the best of the situation at home, doing many things to pass her time.

"Of course! It will be a great chance for me to get some fresh air since I have not been out for a while. I promise I will be careful."

"Alright dear. Then you had better go now, it's quite a walk to the market.Who knows, you may meet somebody worth going to a ball with today."

"Not likely Mrs Clarke. And besides, you know I have high standards."

With a slight wave to Mrs Clarke, Olivia took her basket and headed out of the Manor.

----------

After a long, refreshing walk, Olivia reached the local food market. Rows upon rows of products had filled the sides of the road, the smell of flowers, herbs and fresh fruit invading her senses. People moved at their own pace, some slow and others faster, with baskets of their own at hand and doing their shopping. The whole street seemed to have come alive on that warm, autumn afternoon, creating a charming, quaint picture.

In just a few minutes she had gathered everything she needed, her basket full of herbs, vegetables and fruit. Ready to go home, she turned around, towards the end of the market, not noticing the tall man coming her way and colliding with him, the force knocking her down on the ground.

"I am so sorry sir, I did not mean --"

"Forgive me Miss I --", they both started apologizing at the same time. Olivia noticed she was still on the ground and the stranger offered his hand and carefully helped her back on her feet.

Finally looking up at him, she felt her breath catch in her throat.

The stranger was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. He was tall with a strong physique. His hair was a dark mahogany brown color, just visible in his hat, leading to his piercing, ocean blue eyes. He had a sharp jawline with high cheekbones and she was sure that his smile would be just as beautiful as the rest of his face.

His warm hand was still holding hers, the gesture sending sparks through her body. The man, noticing he was still holding her hand, cleared his throat and dropped it gently.

"I am deeply sorry, Miss. I hope you are not hurt.", he said in a deep yet gentle voice.

"I am alright, thank you for your assistance Mr..?"

"Ramsey. Ethan Ramsey. And you are?"

"Olivia Valentine, sir, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is all mine. Oh! You dropped your basket!". He immediately bent down to gather the scattered apples, pears and whatever else could be saved.

"Please allow me, you need not do this…", she also kneeled beside him to gather the items, her hand going to catch an apple at the same time as Mr. Ramsey,their fingers briefly touching. They both locked eyes again, the movement making Olivia's cheeks redden in color. Did he feel that too? Looking away from his eyes for the sake of modesty and back at her now half full basket, she realized that she had to start making her way back home soon, if she wanted to make it before dinner. With a small sigh, she got up and dusted her dress,more than a little disappointed that she hadn't had the time to learn anything about Mr. Ramsey.

"Thank you once more Mr Ramsey. I sincerely apologize for falling onto you. If you'll excuse me, I need to return back home. I wish you a pleasant afternoon. ", she smiled softly at him and curtsied briefly before turning her back to him and starting walking. Hmm… I have never seen him before in town. Maybe Mrs. Clarke knows something about him. She decided she would ask Mrs. Clarke for more information when she reached home. Alas, she had not made it three feet away when Olivia heard him coming behind her.

" Ms. Valentine? "

" Yes? ", Olivia turned around curiously looking at him.

" Would you allow me to walk you back to your house? I… It's the least I could do for you after our eventful encounter", he asked with a hint of a smile on his face.

He really is handsome, she thought wordlessly. Was this her chance to get to know the mysterious man better? Was this a chance for a new friendship to bloom? Maybe something more? "Stop getting ahead of yourself Olivia. You just met this man! He may even be married!", The little voice in her mind warned her, but her heart, full of excitement at the prospect of getting to know him better, had already decided.

" I would love to"

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

Ethan's pov

Ethan was absentmindedly walking across the stone paved streets of the town he had just moved in. Or rather, his new residence was close to this town. Instead of taking his horse, he decided to take a walk from his house to the town, to get a feeling of orientation around this new place. Being prepared and feeling in control, made him feel more confident in himself, particularly since he was not good at social interactions. Being a man of solitude and always focused on his work, made him unwilling to make any meaningless acquaintances, the frivolous events he was often invited to, being of no essence to him. It was because of his work that he decided to move here.

Immersed in his thoughts as he was, he didn't notice the young lady that accidentally ran directly into him. The force of the blow knocked her to the ground, Ethan immediately apologizing and offering his hand to help her back up.

When the young woman looked up at him, he was left speechless.

This lady, whoever she was, was easily the most beautiful woman he had encountered in all the thirty years of his life. She had golden, blond hair that seemed softer than the most expensive silk and a spotless, alabaster skin. Her big, forest green eyes seemed to be able to see right through his soul and her rosy, full lips were in perfect harmony with her features. She was quite shorter than him, her head just reaching his shoulder and he could guess, even through the many layers of clothing, that she had a lean, feminine frame.

Her hand was soft and small in his and that's when he noticed he was still holding it. Clearing his throat to collect himself, he apologized again to her.

"I am alright, thank you for your assistance Mr..?", she asked him, her voice sounding like the most beautiful of melodies.

"Ramsey. Ethan Ramsey. And you are?"

"Olivia Valentine, sir, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Where have I heard that name from though? Catching himself being so entranced in this lady he just met, he allowed his eyes to wander away from her, when he noticed her basket, previously full of products, now scattered on the ground. He set down to gather whatever could be saved, knowing he must seem like a fool for doing what a gentleman would never probably do. All his thoughts flew out of the window, when he felt that spark again from both their fingers closing around an apple. Olivia's cheeks turned in a color close to the apple she was holding, making her seem even more beautiful than before. What is it that has me totally mesmerized by this woman?

To his great displeasure, their brief encounter would have to be cut short, since she had to return back to her house. Wishing him farewell, she began walking away but before he fully thought about what he was about to ask, his feet were carrying him towards her.

"Ms Valentine?"

She turned around, clearly wondering what he wanted to ask from her. "Yes?"

Taking a deep breath he gathered the courage to ask her what he wanted. "Would you allow me to walk you back to your house? I… -he staggered even though he never did before, looking for a reason to convince not only her but himself too as to why he was doing this for someone he just met - It's the least I could do for you after our eventful encounter", he added with a small smile.

For a few seconds that really seemed to stretch into hours, he could see the wheels in her mind turning, before she looked up at him and said the words he so much had come to want to hear.

"I would love to"

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

Olivia's pov

Ethan offered her his arm to take and Olivia weaved hers through it, her hand settled at the crook of his arm.

They began walking and for a few minutes no one said anything, a somewhat awkward silence setting over them. Neither of them seemed sure as to what they should say to break the ice. Finally Ethan, with a small cough, began talking to her.

"Do you live far from town, Miss Valentine?"

"My home, Edenbrook Manor, is about an hour and a half away from here."

"Oh! I actually bought a residence that is, apparently, close to your house."

"So you are the new doctor who bought Kenmore Park!"

"Indeed, I am"

"May I ask what made you choose to come here? I have the feeling you have been offered better and perhaps more, financially speaking, beneficial positions in bigger towns or cities."

He didn't hesitate to answer. "I was offered a position in this hospital and I was instantly aware that here, I could be more useful since there are not many doctors willing to work in a more rural area. Besides, I had missed the countryside. Has my arrival become such a popular issue here? ", he raised an eyebrow teasingly.

"Yes and no, Dr. Ramsey." she put emphasis on the Doctor, teasing him back too.

Ethan lowered his eyes, seeming a little sheepish. "Ah well… I could not find it in my heart to correct you, Miss. I am sorry."

Olivia chuckled, waving her hand dismissively. "You do not need to worry about it, I assure you."

"You see, this is a relatively small town and it is rare that something new happens. People have the tendency to talk. Or rather gossip, if I am being honest. But I actually learnt about you, from my maid, Mrs Clarke. I do not really get out of the house a lot."

"May I ask why?", Mr. Ramsey asked. Then as if considering how indiscreet he must seem, he sucked in a breath and turned to her. "I am sorry, Miss Valentine, it was not my place to ask."

For some reason, Olivia found herself not minding. Normally, she would not be interested in having a conversation with a man, knowing that at her age every move was scrutinized by potential suitors. That is why she remained unmarried at the age of four and twenty, much to society's disappointment. She just could not bind herself to a loveless marriage of interest. However, with Ethan, talking was easy and she felt surprisingly comfortable with this man she only met an hour ago.

"Well. I remain unmarried at the age of four and twenty and people like I said before, tend to talk. I find myself uninterested in what they say but it does make everyday life easier, since I do not have to hear my parents and Mrs Clarke trying to convince me to attend balls at every chance.", she rolled her eyes with what she felt was loving exasperation.

"I honestly could not imagine a woman such as yourself not being asked for her hand in marriage", Dr. Ramsey said, his face carefully neutral at her admission.

"It is not that I have not received any proposals, but it is I who refuses. My father is quite successful at his profession and those suitors were clearly interested in my family's wealth, not me."

"Then yours was a wise decision to make, if you allow me to say this, Miss."

Nodding silently, Olivia contemplated asking the question that had been in her mind ever since they began their walk. Oh just do it already Olivia. Before she could think further about it, she blurted out her question.

" How about you, Dr. Ramsey? Is there a wife waiting for you at home?"

"No, actually. Much like your case, I have no interest in people not caring about the important things in a marriage. That is not to say I stand against the institution. But, there has not been the right person in my life, so far."

A small, imperceptible smile graced her lips at his answer.

"I assume you are quite taken with your job, no? Since you moved to a different area, just because you want to help here…", Olivia changed the topic after a moment, her tone more cheerful and her heart longing to hear how life as a physician is.

"Indeed I am. Of course I owe all the skills I have acquired, to my mentor, Dr. Naveen Banerji head of Solomon's Hospital in London and professor at --"

"Edinburgh Medical School.",she finished with something that could only be described as wonder in her eyes.

" But how do you know?", he turned to her, surprised that she had heard of Naveen.

Olivia's eyes lowered to the ground, knowing that what she was about to say, would make him laugh at her.

"I… I study biology, anatomy and science whenever I can. I know it is something impossible for a woman in our times, but if I had the chance, I would love to take a proper apprenticeship and become a physician. Naturally, I cannot help but be informed about everything surrounding the medical world. And Dr. Banerji is one of the best doctors in the country. "

When she reluctantly looked back into the eyes that seemed to call for her, she saw an emotion similar to admiration in them. What for, she could not understand , but it made the butterflies in her stomach flutter excitedly.

" Miss Valentine, I've known you for just about two hours and yet, I can confidently say that your intelligence would make you an excellent physician. Please, do not hesitate to ask me anything if you have questions, it would be my pleasure to answer them for you.", Ethan assured her, his voice sincere and the opposite of what she expected to hear.

Olivia's face lightened up at that and she started excitedly asking him several questions, for the rest of the way to her house. It had been a long time since she had met someone not dismissing her love for medicine and even longer since she sincerely enjoyed talking to another person besides her family.

"Maybe this could finally really be the start of something worth exploring", they both thought, grinning happily for the rest of the way back, perfectly content in each other's company.

-/-

A/N : if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading!

Tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed and if you want to be moved to another category) :

Perma (all edits and fics) : @romewritingshop @codykosuckmytoe @sophxwithers @actuallybored @potionsprefect @ethansramsey @crystalwillow @gryffindordaughterofathena @kiara-36 @mrsethanfreakingramsey @writer-ish @panda9584 @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @queencarb @shanzay44 @nikki-2406 @starryeyedrookie @coffeeheartaddict @schnitzelbutterfingers @mysticaurathings @starrystarrytrouble @lsvdw-blog @izzyourresidentlawyer @silma-words @stygianflood @headoverheelsforramsey @maurine07 @natureblooms24 @a-crepusculo

Fics : @alina-yol-ramsey // Regency era fics : @princess-geek

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soulsow · 2 years ago

Text

06. onerous

summary: [6.0 spoilers] after returning from mare lamentorum, hana hears a knock at her door.

rating: g

characters: hana himawari (oc), g’raha tia

word count: 670

notes: it’s not verbatim what he says in the game, obviously, but same feeling i hope!

the night had encroached upon old sharlayan, but hana could not sleep.

she stood upon her balcony, dark eyes upturned at the moon. it hardly seemed real that just earlier she was up there, nigh thousands of malms away from where she now stood back on etheirys.

a swell of the cool evening breeze rushed by, the sound of the leaves rustling in the trees mingling with the distant sound of the ocean waves. a moment of peace after all that had happened was more than welcome, but hana's thoughts were still racing about what was to come next.

the quietude was pierced by a knock at the door. turning to look at said door, she cocked her head a bit to the side as she wondered just who could be calling on her at this hour. still, she couldn't leave whoever was out there just waiting; crossing the room, she opened the door to reveal who was on the other side.

standing in the hall with hands wrung and tail swishing back and forth was a rather nervous looking g'raha tia. she was surprised to see him at this hour, but it wasn't unwelcome. still, he must have seen the confused look on her face.

"my apologies for calling on you so late, hana," he said, voice low. "i had something on my mind, and i wanted to come speak to you before the morning arrived..."

"it's no trouble at all, g'raha," hana smiled. "would you like to come in...?"

"no—" the response came quickly, and he looked a little surprised at his own response before clearing his throat and dropping his hands to his side. "ah, it shan't be necessary. i won't keep you long, as i'm sure you need to get to your rest."

"i haven't been able to sleep, truthfully," she sighed, leaning against the door frame. "but it's no bother. what did you need to talk to me about?"

"i just...i was thinking about everything that's happened thus far. not just during our time together since returning from the first, but everything. i can only imagine how difficult it must be to shoulder all of the burdens of this journey." his voice was quiet but sincere, a lilt of worry outlining the edges of his words.

"i can't lie and say it's been easy," hana replied, glancing down. "but it's something i must do, so i shall. i've—we've all come so far. it wouldn't do to turn back now, would it?"

"nay, it wouldn't." she could feel his eyes on him though she cast her eyes away. "the responsibilities of the warrior of light are beyond onerous. and that is why i wanted to remind you...that you needn't carry those responsibilities alone."

she glanced back up at him, meeting his crimson gaze with soft eyes. her lips upturned into a smile and she nodded her head once, a simple gesture, though she could feel her heart bursting in her chest.

"there are many things that only you alone can do," he said, moving just a few ilms closer. "so for the things that i can help you with, i will help in earnest. it's the least i can do. all of these burdens are too much for one person to bear."

"thank you, g'raha." words alone could not express how thankful hana was to have so many people around her who cared so deeply for her. but alas, for now, words were the only tool she had. "you've no idea how much that sentiment means to me."

he was smiling now too. "i'm sure you already knew, but it never hurts to have a reminder. now..." clearing his throat once more, he ducked his head and took one step back. "i should leave you to your rest. tomorrow will be a busy day."

she yearned to ask him to stay, even if it was just to talk, but hana knew that sleep must come eventually.

"of course. sleep well, g'raha. and thank you again...truly."

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxivwrite #skywriting

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

Text

A Fire I Can’t Put Out (Songbird Chapter 2)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: One week later, a chance encounter leads Reader and Spencer to each other once again. Rating: 18+ Warnings: Smut (exhibitionism, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding, male masturbation, fingering, oral sex - male and female receiving, multiple orgasms), Language Word Count: 10k (I got really carried away lol)

SERIES MASTERLIST SERIES PLAYLIST (new songs added with the release of each chapter)

NOTE: Alas! Our first inkling of fluff! While this chapter is very spicy (you get 2 smut scenes 😉), there’s also a very cute, fluffy moment at the piano that I hope you all enjoy! (Just thinking about it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside...) See you on Valentine’s Day for Chapter 3! 🥰

(Also, everyone should listen to the song I added to the end, it’s BEAUTIFUL and I changed the song/title of the chapter to match it last minute, because I just discovered it and it was too perfect not to use lol)

***

The note felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. It may have one time been a crumpled receipt, but now it was a searing reminder of the one time in my life that I'd broken my own rule and allowed a man to stay. It hummed ferociously, screaming at me to do everything in my power to find him again and finally learn his name at the very least.

Because that was the thing that bugged me the most. I thought that by refusing to learn his name that night, I would save myself the potential attachment, but it turns out all that did was make me even more attached to him.

I tried to convince myself over and over that it was just because he fucked me so good I thought I hurdled through space and time, and not because he was incredibly gorgeous, respectful, and pretty much downright perfect. Maybe it was all of those things rolled into one perfect, blissful night that was meant to be just that—a one-night stand. The one-night stand, if you will.

But no matter what I tried to tell myself, my thoughts always drifted back to him. S...

What could his name be? Steven? Sam? Scott? Sonny? Saxon?

I didn't want to think about it anymore. Maybe his name didn't even start with S... Maybe he meant it to mean Stranger. That was possible, right?

That was probably it. That had to be it, otherwise I was going to lose my mind trying to figure it out when there was a high chance I was never even going to see him again.

My fingers drifted over the piano keys and tried to play anything, anything from memory, anything from scratch? God, just play something... And when I finally did feel my fingers press down into the keys, I didn't register what the song was until I was singing the words.

"Say you'll remember me..."

"No!" I slammed my hands on the keys and then leaned forward on my elbows, resting my head in my hands as the loud array of notes faded into the bright, morning air. I took a deep breath and started to laugh to myself. "What the hell, Y/N..."

He wanted to be remembered, right? He wanted me to remember him. And by leaving the first letter of his name—and a note in the first place—that surely meant that he hoped I'd see him again, right? Or that I'd try to find him? Maybe that was his subtle way of telling me he'd be at the bar for the next open mic night, just in case I decided to show up again.

Or, maybe he was just being a decent human being, Y/N, you know shit like that doesn't happen in real life. Don't fucking fall for it.

I sighed and hit random keys on the piano again before getting up and deciding to take a drive.

When even music didn't take my mind off anything—which was almost never—driving always seemed to do the trick. Sure, there was usually more room for thinking when it came to driving, but for me, it was almost panic-inducing if I wasn't giving the road my full, undivided attention. It's not that I was bad at driving, but I certainly wasn't great at paying attention unless I was fully committed. Since I didn't want to seriously injure myself or die in a car wreck, I found that the best option to get my mind off of anything that was troubling me was to just drive.

It hadn't failed me yet, but maybe this would be the thing that finally sent me flying off a bridge and into a river.

I promptly decided not to think about that.

While I was going out I figured I'd stop by the coffee shop on my way out of town, that way I'd at least have a nice iced coffee to indulge in while I just wandered around. I made sure my driving playlist was downloaded to my phone before also grabbing my bag and keys, and then leaving the apartment.

***

"Hi, I'll take a large vanilla iced coffee, please."

"Will that be all?"

I smiled at the barista, whose nametag read Reyna. "Yes."

"Okay, your total is $3.50."

After handing her a five-dollar bill and putting the change in the tip jar, I stood on the other side of the counter to wait for my order and scrolled through my phone as the next person came up and ordered. It didn't take long, which I was more or less thankful for, but when I turned around, I ran right into someone's back and almost dropped my coffee.

"Whoa! I'm so sorry!"

I instinctively looked down to make sure I didn't spill anything, or that the person I ran into didn't spill anything, and when I finally looked up to apologize to their face, I froze and almost dropped my coffee anyway.

There was no fucking way.

"Hey, Stranger," he said almost nervously, his cheeks flushed.

I wasn't sure when I actually answered, but it seemed like forever because I was just so shocked that I actually fucking saw him again. I truly didn't think in a million years I would live in a moment like this, but there I was, taking in this man in all his beautiful glory.

He was more dressed up than the last time I saw him, maybe for work, or maybe that's just how he dressed sometimes. Whatever the case, I didn't give a shit because it was hot as hell. The color of his corduroy jacket was the same as his eyes, which now that I could see him in better lighting were lighter than I remembered. Under it was a white dress shirt and some type of olive green vest. His hair was still messy and downright tug-able, light curls framing parts of his face. Which was currently in the process of taking me in as well.

I smiled at him, though I wasn't sure if it was coming off as too excited, revealing myself to him, or if it was underwhelming. Or maybe it was just right?

Oh, who cares, Y/N, just fucking say something back!

"Hey, yourself. I... can't believe I ran into you again."

My stomach flipped at the way he smiled back at me, like he was almost nervous to be in my presence. Like I would have shooed him away rather than acknowledge him. He was fucking nervous and I found it incredibly endearing. It was such a contrast to... that night. Once he gained confidence, he was really something... But even now he still was really something, just in a different way, as he visibly tried to find the right words to say.

Finally, he settled on, "Yeah, I... I didn't think I'd see you again. It's... a nice surprise."

Understatement of the century, I thought as I waited for him to speak again. His voice was so... I didn't know how to describe it, other than to say it was so fitting for him, and therefore it was perfect.

Was that weird? Was I being weird?

"Do, um... Do you want to sit down?" I offered, gesturing to the tables on the other side of the café.

"Oh, I don't want to keep you if you're busy, I—"

"Nah, I had nothing going on today, trust me." I gave him a wink as we started making our way to the sitting area. "Besides, Stranger, if we're gonna keep meeting like this, I'm gonna need to at least know your name, don't you think?"

He laughed a little before shrugging, waiting until we sat down across from each other to respond. "I don't know, I... I think I like hearing you call me Stranger. It has a nice ring to it."

We both took a sip from our drinks, our eyes never losing their contact. By the way his face turned even redder, I would have thought he'd look away first, but he didn't. I had to wonder if he didn't look away because he didn't want to, or if he couldn't. Either way, I liked it.

"So, Stranger, tell me..." I said, setting my drink down and folding my hands over the table. "You been thinking about me as much as I've been thinking about you lately?"

I could tell he hadn't been expecting that question, because for a second it looked like he was choking on his drink. He coughed before setting it down, though his hand never left the cup. "I— Y—you've been thinking about me?"

Suddenly remembering the note in my pocket, I scrambled to get it out. And as he looked at me, still shocked but a little puzzled now, too, I started to wonder if maybe it was a stupid idea. But there was no stopping it, now, because that would have been even more puzzling, not to mention embarrassing on my part.

I un-crumpled the note and held it in my hands, outward so he could see his handwriting. "I've been staring at this thing and carrying it around with me everywhere in my pocket for the past week, dude."

It looked like he was trying to hide a smile, and failing miserably at it. "So... Leaving the note was a good idea, then, huh?"

I smiled, though trying to hide it wasn't even an option. "Well, it certainly got me thinking about putting a name to the face... and the body... But in all honesty I think I would have been thinking about you regardless."

He studied me for a moment, and an unfamiliar feeling in my stomach just about sucker-punched me at the way he did it, his face softening and just getting lost in thought. Or me, though I didn't want to flatter myself. Even still, the thought of him being completely lost in my presence, in my just being here, discussing our brief past, was enough to tighten the knot in my stomach.

I couldn't tell if I liked that feeling or not.

Because while my body certainly seemed to like this uncharted territory, something tugged at the pant leg of my brain like a small child, looking up at me and saying with sad eyes that they wanted to leave and go home, back to the comfort and safety of what they already knew. And who was I to deny that?

But at the same time, I couldn't for the life of me let this man go. I wanted, ached to know more about him.

I was intoxicated, and it scared the ever-loving fuck out of me.

"Can I tell you my name?" His voice almost made me jump.

I considered it for a moment, before ultimately deciding that it would be a good small step to take. "Yes."

"Will you tell me your name?"

"Maybe."

We both smiled at each other for a few seconds before an idea came to my mind. He was about to tell me his name right then I think, but I held up my hand and leaned forward, tilting my chin up a little. "You know what... Before you tell me, I wanna know something... Have you ever fucked anyone in a public restroom?"

If he'd had any coffee in his mouth, it surely would have been all over the place right then. Instantly his eyes widened and he looked around the room as his cheeks flushed redder than I'd ever seen them. "What are you doing?" he gushed out really fast, almost refusing to look me in the eye.

"Giving you a deal. No one uses the restrooms here because people are always rushing in and out to grab coffee, or there's hardly anyone here to use them anyway. Bottom line is: we can easily be inconspicuous. So here's what I'm offering."

"This isn't a good idea—"

"You don't have to agree, obviously, but hear me out."

I waited for further resistance, but he just blinked at me, and I took that as my cue. "I'm gonna get up and walk to the women's room. You'll follow me after about a minute, and if you can make me cum twice then we can exchange names and numbers."

"We... We can do that without the exhibitionism, though, you know that, right?" He spoke as if anyone would be able to hear him if he wasn't quiet enough.

"Of course. But... I really haven't been able to stop thinking about you, and judging by the way you're shifting in your seat I can tell you're strongly considering taking me up on my offer. Because you haven't been able to stop thinking about me, either. And you really want to fuck me again, probably almost as much as I want to fuck you again. So what do you say?"

He still didn't speak, only stared at me, which left me to wonder what he was thinking. If anything, he almost looked a little petrified, so last minute I decided to take a little pity on him.

"Okay, new plan. I'm still going to go into the bathroom and wait a minute for you, two tops. I am gonna give you this, though..." I grabbed a napkin, a pen from my bag, and wrote my number down on it before sliding it to his side of the table. "I'll wait for you. If you don't want to go through with this, you can leave. But then you're gonna call me later, and we'll set a date to meet up if you want. How's that sound?"

I think he was completely overwhelmed by my ultimatum, because he still didn't say anything. Though this time he seemed... awed. Not necessarily as embarrassed as he was before, but more enchanted with the idea of what I was offering, the way I presented everything to him.

Figuring that was a good sign, I winked at him and made it a point to walk to the bathroom as seductively as I could without being too obvious.

Though, the further I got, and the longer I waited in the bathroom, the more I wondered if he'd already left the café. And then it started to dawn on me that I might have acted like an asshole, giving ultimatums to a man who was just trying to tell me his name. Why couldn't I have just let him tell me? We were right there, and I had to go ahead and turn it into a fucking game... And for what? So I could get laid? The thing is, I was so sure he liked me enough that after he told me his name we probably could have gone somewhere private and—

The door opened, and I was about to yell at whoever it was that someone was in the room already, but then I saw his face and felt myself relax.

"Hey, I'm... I'm sorry if I pressured you into doing this," I said sincerely, as he locked the door behind him. "We really don't have to if you don't want, I was... I was just trying to... I don't know, be mysterious or something? Which, I guess I can be, but I promise I'm not usually like this, and—"

"Hey, it's alright. I promise. Now... I don't mean to change the subject so quickly, but I do believe I owe you two orgasms. And I don't want us to get caught, so I'd like to get to it if you don't mind."

Holy fucking shit..

"You really know how to get a girl to shut up, Stranger," I said, grabbing him by the jacket and pulling him to me. I looked up into his eyes and smirked, walking us backwards until I hit the counter, just beside the sink. "How fast do you think you can get me there?"

A small smirk twitched at his lips before he surprisingly lifted me up and promptly sat me on the counter. "Depends... You gonna keep talking or are you going to let me do my job?"

The low tone in his voice was unlike anything I'd heard from him thus far, and it lit this fire in me that I didn't know I had. With a small, involuntary moan, I spread my legs wide and let him stand between them. He pulled me in for a long, hot kiss before dropping to the ground and wiggling me out of my pants. He ended up taking off my shoes, too, so he could slip my pants and underwear off my body completely. No sooner than they hit the floor did he get to work, his hands coming up to spread my legs once again, propping my heels up on his shoulders.

Unfortunately I couldn't keep myself from moaning out as he worked my pussy with his mouth, each long, wet drag of his tongue adding fuel to the fire he'd already kindled within me. I tried to bite my fist, hoping it would muffle some of the sounds, but it wasn't working.

I was thinking about calling the whole thing off and going somewhere we wouldn't get in trouble, when he seemed to have another idea.

Before I knew what was happening, my panties were shoved in my mouth, and my eyes were rolling to the back of my head as he slipped a finger inside of me with ease. In no time I felt my orgasm creeping up on me, every pump of his fingers and every quick, meticulous flick of his tongue on my clit getting faster and faster with each passing second. I shrieked into the ball of fabric as quietly as I could manage as I started to fall, clenching and shaking around him in record time.

Once I relaxed, he pulled himself away from me and stood up, licking his fingers clean and working at his belt as I stared at him with pleading eyes. I wanted to take the panties out of my mouth, but I knew that if I did I probably wouldn't be able to keep quiet. And the fact that he'd put them there in the first place, after so clearly being flustered at my suggestion to go have a quick fuck in a public restroom, completely turned me on and made me want him even more.

I did manage a pretty decent moan when he finally came forward and lined himself up with my waiting pussy. He smiled a little before leaning forward, never entering me but running his dick over it, coating himself with my arousal. He leaned his head in and brushed my hair from my neck before kissing it, and even softly biting me. If it was going to leave bruises, I didn't care. I welcomed every kiss, every lick and bite, and every slow, excruciating drag of his cock along my pussy.

He slid the tip of himself into me for a second before pulling out and moving my face with his hand, gripping my jaw and making me look at him. I whimpered at the loss of contact where I was clenching around nothing, patiently waiting for him, and also at the gain of our eye contact. I genuinely had no idea what he was going to do next, but I hoped it involved some semblance of a repeat of last time.

But once again, he surprised me, leaning forward and bringing his mouth to mine, ripping the panties from my mouth using his own. He leaned back, the pale blue fabric hanging from his teeth, and the sight drove me absolutely wild. It didn't help that he kept them in his mouth as he slapped my clit with his dick, and it took everything I had not to moan obscenely. He could tell, too, because he brought a hand to cover my mouth right as he pushed into me and held himself there.

He tossed his head to the side and dropped my panties on the ground, then ran his hands along the insides of my legs and rested them on my thighs. "I'll keep going as long as you keep quiet."

"You probably should have kept the panties in my mouth, then," I breathed, clenching myself around him and feeling him grip my skin tighter.

"Guess you'll just have to try and be quiet like a good girl, then, won't you?"

The whimper that escaped me was utterly pathetic. And I loved it.

Needing this to get going now, I reached forward and grabbed his hips, urging him to start moving, and thankfully he did. It was slow at first as we both just savored the feeling of being together like this again.

But in a matter of seconds all pleasantries were thrown out the window, and he slid his hands up to grip my waist as he pounded into me as quietly as he could. To ensure the skin-on-skin slapping wasn't too loud, he kept his thrusts short and staccato, but incredibly deep, setting my insides on fire and making me clutch onto the back of his ass for dear life. I tried so hard not to yell out that I was pretty sure my nails broke through his skin. He hissed out sharply, confirming that I was hurting him, so I let him go and opted to for gripping his shirt instead. I drew him closer, that way I could kiss him and feel all of him at once.

I might have also needed to find some way to keep myself quiet.

I moaned into his mouth as he kissed me back, every swipe of his tongue somehow managing to perfectly find a rhythm in tandem with his thrusts, despite how rushed and sloppy we were being.

It wasn't long before I felt myself start to fall apart, my hands clutching onto his jacket for dear life as my stomach started to knot. "Gonna cum, gonna cum," I murmured into his mouth, and he pulled away to kiss my neck.

My arms wrapped around him and pulled him as close to me as room would allow, right as my eyes squeezed shut and I saw stars, my second orgasm quick and intense. I mumbled little 'uh-huh's into his mouth as he fucked me through it, and when I was done, he pulled out, leaving me dazed but also confused.

It looked like it pained him to pull his pants up and tuck his still-hard dick away, so I reached out. "Why didn't you finish? We're in a bathroom, I can clean up just fine..."

"My orgasm wasn't part of the deal," he stated simply, straightening his clothes and trying to get comfortable.

"So, what, you're just going to walk around town with a boner?"

"No. It'll go away soon, I'll be fine." Once his clothes were all the way on, he reached into his jacket pocket, handed me a slip of paper—a business card it looked like—and kissed me quickly one more time. "Besides, the next time I cum inside you, I'd like to hear you saying my name."

And then he walked out of the bathroom without another word, grabbing my panties and shoving them in his jacket pocket as an afterthought before he disappeared.

I don't think I moved for a good minute or two before I finally looked down at the card and read his note. He must have written it down before he came in here.

Y/N, I heard them call your name at open mic night, and that's when I knew. I'm free tomorrow night. I hope you'll call. —Stranger

I turned the card over and saw his number, followed by his name.

Dr. Spencer Reid.

***

The second I got home, I ran to the bathroom and fixed my... problem... I wanted so badly back in the café to finish what I started, but I'd meant what I told her. I'd sighed her name out as I touched myself the few times since I'd met her, and I could only imagine what it would finally sound like to hear her say my name. I knew she could already tear me apart at her touch, but I wanted desperately to know if my name on her tongue would have the same effect.

I was almost positive it would, but I just needed to know.

It surprisingly didn't take long for me to finish, just the mere thought of her face and the way she looked at me as I shoved her underwear in her mouth enough to take me to the edge. And finally, when I felt them practically bruning a hole in my pocket, I tensed and sighed out her name, cum spilling out over my hand and into the toilet.

The orgasm should have calmed me down, should have relaxed me, but instead, as I cleaned up and changed into different clothes, I wondered if she would actually call me.

First of all, it was a wonder I'd ran into her at all. Truthfully, I didn't think I was ever going to see her again, and when I heard her voice call out an apology for bumping into me, I really thought I was dreaming. And yet, there she was, right in front of me in all her beautiful glory.

So when she offered to sit down with me, I couldn't say no. And when she asked, You been thinking about me as much as I've been thinking about you lately? ... I was pretty sure I couldn't breathe. I didn't tend to think of myself as the type of guy who would leave that good of an impression, so hearing her of all people say that sent my heart—and stomach—into a mess of flutters.

And though the confidence I had in my ability to flirt with women in any capacity was very slim, I must have done something right. Because when I picked up the phone later that night and heard a low, "Hey, Stranger," through the speaker, I couldn't stop smiling. "Or should I call you Doctor?"

***

"YN... I'm really glad you called."

Hearing him say my name for the first time did something to me I couldn't explain. The way he said it was innocent enough, but it still made me beam with excitement.

I was curled up on my couch, wrapped in a robe after my shower and having been contemplating whether or not to call all afternoon.

I didn't want to wait too long in case he ended up making other plans or something, but I was also apprehensive. Because as much as I wanted to keep seeing Spencer, I wasn't sure I could handle breaking his heart. That's what always happened, didn't it? I started seeing someone, things would be great for the first few months, and then as they fell more in love with me I fell more out of love with them. But even then I wasn't sure I could call it that, because I never fell in love with them in the first place. Not even gotten close to it.

Would... Spencer be different? It was hard to tell. He'd already made me feel things I'd never felt before, so maybe this time would be different.

Or maybe that would just make it hurt even more when I inevitably pushed him away.

But I didn't want to think about that. All I knew in the moment was that he intrigued me, and for the first time in my life I actually wanted to to be near him almost every second of the day. Even when I wasn't thinking about him, my body was buzzing with the aftermath of him. His entire being was so magnetic that I couldn't help but be drawn to him. Even if, ultimately, I knew it would end with one or both of us in shambles, I wanted it. I wanted him more than anything, to be with him, to see him smile, to hear him talk...

That little kid that was tugging on my pant leg earlier, warning me that it was time to go home, was screaming now. Scared for its life and begging for me to turn back.

And for some reason, against my better judgement, I ignored it.

"You really knew my name the whole time and didn't tell me?"

From the pause on the other end of the line, I could tell he must have been nervous. I could see him in my head, looking down at his twitching hands as he tried to find some explanation. "Um... Well, you said you didn't want to know names, so I... thought I'd keep quiet. I hope you're not mad about that..."

I smiled. "No, I'm not mad. It was nice of you." I paused a beat before changing the subject. "So, uh... Tomorrow night..."

"Oh... Yeah, I travel quite a bit for work, and I don't get many days off, but tomorrow night is the only time I'm free for a while. So I guess it was a good thing I ran into you when I did."

"Hmm... I guess you're right. In that case, I should probably take it easy on you. Wouldn't want to wear you out or anything."

He laughed a little, and warmth bloomed in my chest at the sound. I imagined seeing him smile, which made it fully blossom. "No need. You... You could wear me out any day."

"Careful what you wish for, Stranger. Time and place?"

"I can be by your place at 6? I'll even bring food if you want."

I paused, suddenly reminded of the screaming child again. This time it was yelling, "It's not safe! Don't let him in, please!"

But God damn it, I wanted to so bad...

"Uh, sure," I finally answered, playing with the hem of my robe anxiously. "You... remember where it is? As I recall, you were pretty nervous the last time you were here, and kind of occupied with... other things."

"Oh, I—I remember everything, pretty much. I know where to go, it's okay."

He didn't elaborate. I kind of wanted him to, but figured the less I knew about him the better. I was invested in him enough already, and knowing more would just plunge me in deeper than I was comfortable with. So, I told him, "Alright. If you need directions or anything though, let me know. Should I be... wearing anything in particular when you get here, Doctor?"

The line was silent, and I could picture that little shocked expression on his face, the one he got every time I said something suggestive that he wasn't expecting. It was cute. "A—Anything you want will be fine..."

I laughed and bit my lip, leaning back into the couch. "Okay... See you later then. Tomorrow night, 6PM."

"Tomorrow night. 6PM. Goodnight, Y/N."

My face felt warm and my stomach fluttered as I curled into myself and smiled into the phone. "Goodnight, Spencer."

What surprised me most about that night was that I didn't hang up right after. I waited. And waited, until he hung up, just in case he said anything else. And I think he was in the same mindset, because we sat in silence for a good fifteen seconds before I finally hung up, shaking my head and wondering if he thought that was weird.

As it turns out, he didn't.

About ten minutes later, as I was getting into bed, I got a text message that read: I hope you know that I always have your song stuck in my head. The one from the bar. I hope you'll sing to me again one day.

I promptly sent back: If you're a good boy for me tomorrow, I just might, and set my phone on my dresser, ignoring the way my heart swelled at his sentiment.

Sleep didn't come easily that night. And when I did finally drift off, my dreams were about Spencer.

***

Usually I was decently confident when it came to my 'date' outfits. I knew what looked good on me, and I knew what made other people go, "Holy shit," under their breath when they saw me, so it should have been easy. And to some degree it was, but with all these weird feelings I was having lately, I was second-guessing myself.

But no matter how badly I second-guessed my decision, I stuck with what I knew best, wearing a thin black long-sleeved shirt with a low neckline and form-fitting jeans that flared at the bottom. A necklace with a silver diamond that matched my belly-button ring sat nicely at my chest, right above my cleavage. I opted to leave my hair down in long, loose curls that curled away from my face, and framed my eyes with simple black eyeliner and mascara, leaving my lips alone with a peppermint chap stick. Remembering how Spencer had complimented and basically worshipped my hands, I accented them with a deep purple nail polish that almost looked black if there wasn't any light shining on them. I put on a few rings that matched my other body jewelry and wore a thin, braided rope bracelet that my sister made me for my thirteenth birthday. Since I didn't think we were going anywhere, I only wore black ankle-length socks, but kept a pair of simple black heeled boots by the door in case we did decide to leave.

As for my... undergarments, I chose a nice black lace set that I only brought out on rare occasions, and I felt like it fit. The material was sheer and lacy, and that was about it. It was simple, but sexy, and that's what I loved about it. And if I knew Spencer's taste as well as I thought I did, I was pretty sure he would love it, too.

And that fact alone was enough to snap me out of my worry.

Kind of. I mean, he was still coming to my apartment, and I was almost certain that he was going to look around and probably ask some questions about things. Which, normally wouldn't be a bad thing, and in a way it really wasn't, but it still made me nervous...

I just hoped that I could keep him occupied enough so that I wouldn't have to deal with it too much.

There was a knock at my door, and I was thankful, finally pulled out of my head and into the world around me. I got up and opened the door with a smile, leaning against it slightly and taking him in.

"Hey, Stranger," I drawled, giving him a wink as I stepped aside to let him in.

But he didn't come in. Not until he was done taking me in, of course. "You... Wow, uh, hi," he stammered, holding out a bag that had to be takeout. "You look great."

As he walked in, I shut the door behind him and looked at his backside before he turned around. "Speak for yourself."

He took off his shoes, which revealed one red striped sock and one purple and blue polkadotted one, which made me smile. He wore simple grey corduroy pants and a purple sweater that matched my nail polish almost perfectly. His hair was just as perfect as it was the last two times I saw him, rightfully messy and curly that made me want to skip dinner all together and get right to dessert.

I even told him as much.

"You're kinda making me want to skip dinner."

"Oh, we... We can eat after if you want to, I don't mind," he offered kindly. It was sweet.

I laughed and walked up to him, bringing my right hand up to run my fingers through his hair. Then I leaned up and kissed him hotly on the lips for a few seconds before pulling away and letting out a low 'hmmm'. "Probably a good idea, but I'm starving."

I turned and started to the kitchen, throwing back over my shoulder, "That okay with you?"

"Y—Yeah, of course."

I turned on the light above the table before pulling out a chair for him with a smile. "I didn't really eat much today, so takeout sounded really good. I hope you didn't have to go too far out of your way to grab it, otherwise I could have made something here."

He sat down and I went to the other side of the kitchen to grab forks and plates. "Oh! No, it was alright, it was on the way over. Plus, I guess I don't really mind the travel, since I already do so much of it."

"Right, you mentioned that," I confirmed, taking a seat across from him. My dining room table was small, since my apartment wasn't that big. Even sitting across from one another, if Spencer and I reached our arms out across the table, we would have been able to reach each other's shoulders.

"Hey, do you want anything to drink?" I asked. "I've got some white whine in the fridge, otherwise I also have water, milk, and I think some Sprite."

"Oh, uh... Water is fine, thank you."

As I got up to get it, he got out the food. "Not a drinker?" I wondered aloud, grabbing glasses and the pitcher of water from the fridge.

"Not really. I'll have one on occasion, but if I'm driving I like to steer clear."

So, he wasn't planning on staying the night, then... Ultimately that was a good thing, but a small part of me admittedly felt disappointed. Regardless, I didn't let it show. "Makes sense. I don't drink a lot either, but I've been known to have a good time occasionally. And I always need white wine in the house, that's a rule of mine."

I didn't see his smile, but I could feel it. Was that weird? Feeling a smile? I'd never been able to tell, never noticed that before, but right then I just knew it was there.

But maybe it was just the way he said, "Fair enough," that made me certain.

Whatever the case, I shook the feeling and made my way back to the table with full glasses of water.

We ate with few words between us, though occasionally Spencer would throw out a random fact about the origins of the food we ate, or we exchanged small stories of both of our inabilities to use chopsticks. It was nice, being able to eat with him and not have to talk about where I was from or what my family was like. I never liked sharing that much of myself with someone that soon, let alone at all, so I was thankful for the ease our conversation carried.

Though, at one point he asked, "So, you're a musician? Is it full-time?" And it stopped me in my tracks a little. I loved music, and I was definitely passionate about it, but again, it was so personal to me that for some reason my brain kept sending me signals to turn around and change the subject.

But it was an innocent question. And I used music to my advantage all the time, it wasn't a secret that I was good at it, so I could give him an answer. And I knew that I didn't have to tell him anything I didn't want to, so I just needed to get my shit together and stop worrying. I had to remind myself that not everyone was going to use the things I tell them to hurt me. Truthfully I don't know why I was so paranoid by that, because it never happened, but I chalked it up to just looking for any excuse to keep myself closed off.

I brushed off all the discomfort and doubt I had, and took a drink of water before answering truthfully. "It's not full-time, but I think I'd like it to be. I definitely love it enough, but whether I could handle the stress of being a full-time musician or not is... well, it has yet to be seen."

"Do you write your own songs?"

"Mhm. Have been since I could talk, really. But whenever I perform it's usually covers that everyone knows. Easier to get them excited, anyway."

Spencer smiled, leaning forward a little. "You know, actually I'd never heard the song you sang at the bar that night... That was a cover?"

"Yeah. You don't listen to the radio?"

"Not really. If it all sounds like that, I may have to start, though I'm pretty sure it's not."

I laughed a little. "You'd be right about that... Still, the radio has its merits. I'm a fan of more independent stuff myself, but I keep up to date with what's new. Kinda have to."

"Why's that?"

I chewed my lip for a moment before answering. "Well, I don't do it full-time since I have a day job, but on the side I've helped with writing and producing other peoples' stuff, and a lot of it is what you hear on the radio, so..."

"Oh, that's really cool," he mused, and his eyes gave away that he genuinely seemed impressed. I almost blushed at the sight. "Y'know, I'm sure if you did decide that you could handle the stress of being a full-time musician, everyone would love you."

I laughed again. "You've never even heard my stuff."

"I don't need to," he answered truthfully. "I've heard you sing, you're incredible. And you know how to produce and write music. And, if it's good enough to be on the radio, then I know you've got nothing to worry about."

He could have just been saying that to be nice, and if it wasn't so clearly written on his face that he really believed what he was telling me, I would have thought so. Heat crept up to my cheeks, and I smiled, telling him, "Thank you," before taking another drink of water to cool myself off.

We spent the rest of the meal talking about some of our favorite music, which was a nice way to end it. We had a decent discussion about classical music (He was surprised and I think a little turned on by the fact that I knew a lot of what he was talking about in that department), and as we cleaned up the dishes he happily told me about the story behind one of my favorite classical pieces (which I didn't know and was more than glad to learn).

And while we were on the subject of music, I took him over to my piano when we finished cleaning up, which sat under the only window in the main room of the apartment. The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow over the sleek black of the piano. Since it was a small apartment, I couldn't have a 'fancy' piano like I wanted, so it was an electric one with a few settings to change the sound. I never messed around with it though, unless I was working on something for someone else. But even then, I did that work with other people in the studio, and not at home.

"Here, sit next to me," I said, patting the small space on the bench.

We barely fit together, but it gave us an excuse to be close to each other, which I think he liked. I know I liked it, at least.

"Are you gonna play something?" he asked. "I mean, you don't have to of course, I don't want to make you or put pressure on you or anything, but..."

"I wouldn't have brought you here if I wasn't going to play you something, Stranger," I said with a laugh, turning the piano on and nudging him with my shoulder. "Though, if you don't want me to, I can think of a few other things I could do for you instead..."

I looked up at him to see his face in a flush, and I smiled, my stomach knotting in that unfamiliar way again.

"Um... Maybe when you're done playing," he said finally, reaching out to ghost over the keys with his fingers.

"Do you play?" I asked, suddenly very warm, and turned on at the idea of watching his hands work around a piano.

"A little. I... I don't know much, but I'm a fast learner."

With a small smile, I grabbed his hand and placed his fingers over certain keys to make a chord. "There. Press all of those together," I told him.

He did, and a smile broke out on his face.

"C Minor," I said. "My favorite chord."

"You have a favorite chord?"

"What, you don't?"

"I... never really thought about it."

We laughed together for a few seconds before he played the chord again, this time tapping the pedal underneath to make it ring out longer. I looked up at him with a smile, right as he looked down at me with an even bigger one. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say we got closer, even though that was impossible unless I'd sat on him. Which I didn't do. Not right then at least.

No, I cleared my throat and messed around with a few keys, trying to decide what to play. Spencer removed his hands from the keyboard as I did it, and I could feel his eyes watching my movements. The thought sent more warmth through me, and I decided to go with something familiar.

My fingers settled on the right keys and started playing the chords to Wildest Dreams. And when I started singing, I swear I felt him melt beside me. It was different from the guitar performance, because at the piano I made it sweeter. My vocals weren't as strong, and I slowed it down to make sure I got everything perfect, but made it a point to look over to him occasionally, winking as I sang some rather sultry lyrics.

When I was done, I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He looked down at me, his eyes studying my face like he was going to kiss me, but he leaned away from me, like he was deciding against it. Finally though, he spoke.

"While I appreciate the performance, it completely juxtaposes the text you sent me last night."

I really didn't know what to say, mostly because I was having a hard time remembering what I texted. I would have been able to remember any other time, but in the moment I was just too entranced by his presence and the way he was staring at me. "W—What did I say?"

My hand was still on the piano, but I felt his reach out and lightly brush over it, caressing the lengths of my fingers. "You said you might sing for me if I was good for you... We haven't done anything yet, and you still sang for me anyway."

Oh, that...

I smiled, sliding my hand out from under his and dragging my middle finger along his own, up and then back down, over and over again. "Didn't you know that I can see the future?"

He looked amused. "Oh, really?"

"Mhmm..." I kept drawing lines up his middle finger, but leaned in closer to him. "And just before you got here, I saw that you made me cum three times."

He took a moment before leaning in closer and responding, his voice barely above a whisper. "You and your ultimatums..."

"It wasn't an ultimatum. It was the future."

Our faces got closer...

"Oh, okay. I believe you."

...And closer...

"Good."

My eyes fluttered closed as he kissed me, gently and with a care that was practically butterfly-inducing. I leaned into him further, finally moving my hand up his arm and snaking up to grab his hair. As his lips parted and his tongue gently swiped over my bottom lip, I climbed up onto his lap, placing my hands around his head to anchor myself to him. He used his to grab the piano in front of him, pushing us forward a little so we wouldn't fall off the bench. The mess of notes rung out loudly in the air, much like they had the day before, right before I went to the café and ran into him.

The coincidence of it all almost made me laugh, but the humor quickly dissipated before I could, because Spencer brought one of his hands to my lower back and groaned softly into my mouth.

I moaned right back, shifting my hips slightly so that I was straddling one of his legs. He spread them wider to give me more room, and I settled nicely, grinding down and almost whining at how little friction there was between the corduroy that adorned his leg and the denim that adorned mine. That didn't stop me, though. I rode his thigh as well as I could, relishing in the way his hand pushed me further into him and his kisses got deeper and more desperate.

Eventually, though, I had enough. I pulled my mouth away from his and clumsily got off of him, standing up and unbuttoning my jeans. He turned around and reached out to help, but I put a hand on his chest and pushed him back. "Stay right there. I'm gonna finish what I started, but I need to get these damn pants off first."

He didn't argue. I held eye contact with him up until I slowly tugged my pants down and stepped out of them, lifting up my shirt a little so he could see the underwear I was wearing. As expected, his eyes wandered south, and I could have sworn I saw his pupils dilate.

But I didn't give him a lot of time to take them in. I made good on my promise and climbed up on his lap again, wrapping my arms around his neck and biting my lip as I started to ride his thigh once more. I started off slow, pressing my forehead to his and enjoying how it felt when his hands firmly grabbed onto my ass. Our lips met again, slowly and yet, also just as desperate as they had before. And with each antagonizing slow roll of my hips, his kisses got bolder, and his hands kneaded my ass, urging me to go faster.

Thankfully for him, I was feeling just as desperate as he was. So I quickened my movements on his thigh and kissed him harder, taking his bottom lip in between my teeth and tugging it before tilting my head to the other side and kissing him again. Meanwhile I could feel that burning in my lower stomach that signaled a fast-approaching orgasm. So I ground myself onto him even harder and whined in his mouth, just before pulling away to speak.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum already," I breathed, pressing small kisses to his jaw.

Spencer squeezed my ass and leaned into my touch. "Go ahead, Y/N..."

It wasn't like he was giving me permission, but just hearing him say my name regardless sent me over the edge, and in no time I was shaking around his leg, clenching my own around him and clinging to his neck for dear life.

Once I came down, I sighed and smiled into his neck, kissing it and moving up to his ear. "Two more to go."

What he said next threw me completely off guard.

"No."

It wasn't a command, or a threat. It was a matter-of-fact statement. I pulled away and looked at him, puzzled. "What?"

He only smirked. "You said I was going to make you cum three times... You did that one all on your own."

The sultry, cocky way he said it made me melt, and I knew then that I was in some serious trouble.

The first time he made me cum was right there on the piano bench. He insisted that I sit down while he eat me out, and I wasn't one to complain. However, he did drag it out so long that by the time I actually came, it felt like I'd done it a thousand times over.

So, to give myself a little break, I returned the favor, and we made it to the kitchen before I couldn't wait any longer and promptly decided to suck him off while he leaned back against the counter. I took the same courtesy he had in dragging it out, pulling off of him completely right as he was about to cum, and I absolutely melted into a pile of nothing upon hearing how he whined and panted while I did it.

I did that in about five long, excruciating cycles before he told me it was my turn and dragged me into my bedroom.

The second time I came, he fucked me against the door, one of my legs standing on the ground while the other lifted and rested on my dresser. He didn't waste any time, just pushing my panties aside and fucking me hard and fast. And fast it was. It only took about a minute before I was convulsing around him, every nerve I had set on fire.

He let me have one more break, laying me down on the bed and taking his time stripping off the rest of my clothes. He must have spent a solid half hour just licking, biting, and teasing my breasts, his hand occasionally reaching down to graze my clit for a few strokes before returning to touch the rest of me. All the while, he slowly rutted against my thigh, moaning into my skin when he got close and stopping his movements all together for about a minute before continuing.

But I was growing impatient and squirmy. So I grabbed his face, pulled him up to kiss me, and wrapped my legs around his waist.

"Fuck me, Spencer, please," I begged, kissing his jaw and shivering at the way he whimpered hearing his name fall from my lips.

He adjusted us for a moment before sliding into me slowly, and we both let out some of the most filthy sounds I'd ever heard. Every movement and sound we made from then on was frantic, desperate, and so full of need that I was almost positive I wasn't even alive anymore. Was I even ever alive at all? Did life exist?

"I can't... I'm go—gonna..."

Spencer suddenly coming to a halt and coming inside me was all I could feel, and it brought me back to my senses. I breathed out his name as he continued emptying everything he had into me, just like he'd admitted to me that he wanted back in the coffee shop. I was close myself, but with his halted movements, I didn't get there.

As I moved one of my hands down to rub my clit, he grabbed my wrist and pinned it above my head, pulling out and then plunging back into me, causing me to gasp.

"That's my job, angel," he murmured sweetly, just as he began slowly fucking his cum into me.

If I wasn't already in trouble, that would have destroyed me.

It didn't take long before I was crying out his name and orgasming for the fourth time that night. It was the most powerful one I'd had... well, ever, if I was being honest. My back gradually lifted off the bed and my eyes were screwed so tightly it felt like they were bruising.

But God be damned if I didn't want to experience that whole feeling over and over again for the rest of my life.

He stayed there for a moment, leaning over me and brushing the softest kisses to my temple as we caught our breaths. Eventually, though, and I wasn't sure how long exactly we'd been wrapped up in each other, he pulled out and laid beside me. And if it wasn't for his cum dripping out of me, I would have probably fallen asleep right there and been happy.

As if he was able to read my mind, Spencer sat up and brushed some of the hair from my face. "I'll go get something to clean you up real quick. Don't move."

I giggled, feeling light-headed and completely blissful as I caught him in our afterglow, taking in his beauty and basking in it like the sun. "I wouldn't go anywhere even if I could."

It wasn't until he came back and started cleaning between my legs with a warm washcloth that I realized what I said.

It took even longer for me to realize that he'd grabbed and put back on his underwear and pants.

As he tossed the washcloth into the laundry basket in the corner of my room, I sat up and reached for his sweater, slipping it on before he could say otherwise. It smelled like him and fit just right, which made me feel all warm and happy.

"Did you, um... want me to stay?" he asked softly not stepping any closer.

Yes.

"It, uh... would probably be better if you left. But... You can stay for an hour or two before you go home?"

Of course it was only a suggestion, because I couldn't make him do anything. But I asked it like a question, because I really wanted him to stay, just for a little bit longer if he couldn't stay the whole night.

Spencer nodded, smiling, and looking a little relieved if I was reading him right. "You should try to go to the bathroom first. Urination after sex is essential to prevent UTIs."

Smiling, I got up from the bed and kissed him on the cheek before grabbing a pair of clean underwear from my drawer and walking to the bathroom.

When I came back with a freshly washed face, my jewelry discarded, and feeling refreshed and ready to fall asleep, he was laying on my bed with his eyes closed and his arms crossed over his bare chest. Thinking better of it, I took off his sweater and threw it at him before rummaging through my drawers for a night shirt of my own.

"You could have kept it on," he said quietly, even as he put the shirt back on himself.

I shrugged, slipping on a large brown tee-shirt and climbing into bed under the covers. "You can't go home without a shirt."

"Right..." He sounded a little sad, but maybe I was just imagining it.

I rolled over on my side and looked at him, already feeling myself start to drift off. But I forced my eyes open and reached out to brush my fingertips through his hair. "Will you stay until I fall asleep?"

"Of course," was all he said, a small smile adorning his lips.

I hummed and nestled in closer to him, and his hand came down to rub the inside of my arm.

And as much as I tried to stay awake, just so he would stay longer, inevitably I fell asleep, hearing Spencer humming the melody to my favorite classical piece.

***

My arms stretched out, seeking his warmth even though I knew it wouldn't be there. I told him, made it a point to make sure he knew he had to leave after I fell asleep.

So why did I feel saddened by his disappearance?

I groaned into my pillow and stretched my body, already feeling it ache from all that... strenuous activity from the night before. When I opened my eyes and turned my head, I saw just a glimpse of the sun peeking through the curtains in my bedroom, illuminating what looked like a piece of paper on the other pillow next to me.

I slowly sat up and grabbed it, rubbing my eyes to will myself to read it. I already figured it would be another note from Spencer, but my hear fluttered when I read it nonetheless.

Not sure when I'll be free to meet again, but I'd like to keep in touch— As much as I love when you call me Stranger, I'd prefer to be anything but.

Sweet dreams, — Stranger Spencer

Yeah. I was definitely in trouble.

***

“All my pleasure choked by pain Since I let you get away. I should’ve tied you to the bed When I had you in the flesh. Now I’m chained to the memories.

How the music played loud. How my hair came down. How you kissed my mouth With a fire I can’t put out.

Why does it feel like torture Not to have your skin on mine?”

—Liz Longley, Torture

SERIES TAGLIST: @bluesunrise02 @meowiemari @teenwolfgirl90

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes

(Please let me know if you’d like to be added to either taglist! Thank you!)

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#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid #songbird

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bao3bei4 · 4 years ago

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kpop music videos that gave their fans sexual brainworms

OR accidental fetish pop and its fringe fanbase: meditations on gendered desire

large warning here: i am someone who has been into kpop for the past 10 years. however, i have always been an extremely casual fan. i do write fic, but not rpf. if any of that makes you not want to hear me talk about kpop rpf (or you don’t want to hear about it in general), please keep moving.

anyway, obviously pop is corporate, soulless, and manufactured. but sometimes some truly bizarre shit gets past the committees and destroys a generation. these are their stories.

the video that started this is all is got7’s just right, released july 10th, 2015.

yes that’s all 7 members of got7 (one is out of frame) shrunken down for your viewing pleasure. they live in your room and tell you you’re just right.

this sheer fetish power of this video is nerfed only by how utterly sexless it is.

they’re styled like and dance like this. it’s a totally unironic sendup of the seminal work that preceded it by four years, “what makes you beautiful” by the white kpop group “one direction.” the chaste energy of the whole thing makes you legitimately wonder if the good people at jyp have just never heard of microphilia. (during a dramatic reading of this piece, here a friend interjected seriously, “i think it’s korean culture not to talk about things like this, fetishes in the workplace.”)

it’s for the best, honestly, though because the actress in the music video is lee ja in, who was 11 when the video was shot. considering that the members themselves ranged in age from 18-23 at the time, i think it’s actually very impressive that we only have to cancel one.

you receive absolutely no prizes for guessing that it’s jackson wang we’re sending to social justice prison. why’d he do this? no one asked.

at any rate, got7 fans, or “gans” (they actually call themselves igot7s which is too twee for me), have much to think about here: all 7 very small members of got7 sneaking into their room, possibly weird age play, and jackson wang eating a very large cake.

let’s see what they actually did.

twitter was actually very tame. the most charged thing i found was (unsurprisingly) from a bts fan (“ban”). i don’t actually know what it means, but i think it means something.

so, of course, i turned to the internet’s last bastion of free speech, where you can say whatever the fuck you want and receive cheers, or as the kids say, “kudos.” that is, i read fanfiction.

for those of you who don’t know your herstory, i started my journey at Asianfanfics.com, where, at the time of writing, there were 12,067 got7 stories. i want to start this by saying that i think feminism won, because someone was paying real human dollars to advertise their irene/wendy fanfiction on a banner ad, which is quite possibly a win for women for everywhere.

anyway, Asianfanfics.com’s search engine sucks ass (i kept on finding stories about different combinations of bts members worrying about their weight and being reassured by another member that were entitled “just right”), so i decided to look through all got7 stories written between july 2015 and december 2015.

but, alas, not a single got7 microphilia fic to be found.

also, some genre commentary while i’m here: i think the stories i respect the most are the “[y/n] is a ordinary girl who’s assigned to be got7’s manager! can she make them into superstars? as sparks begin to fly, can she keep it professional?” like fuck yeah that sounds like a kickass dating sim. it almost definitely already is one. i salute all the teens around the world for buying into the fantasy of dating a boy band member that they themselves sell you.

however, i don’t think i respect the “[member a] and [member b] are mafia/jocks and nerds/college students/high schoolers” concepts. in my opinion, the whole fantasy of boy band member is their personas, their hidden real personalities, their celebrity, and the show business setting. find a different intellectual property if you wanna write about school. i even respect the “yugyeom drank girl juice [not estrogen] and turned into a sexy girl” story more, because at least it knows exactly what it wants, and also because they’re all still boy band members. well, band members. shout out to yugyeom.

so, anyway, i looked elsewhere. at the time of writing, archive of our own only had 11,645 got7 stories, but it does have a better search, so it effectively has more. as an aside, i think it’s so funny, and mildly disorienting at first, that archive of our own separates the “music & bands” section from the “celebrities & real people” section. boy band members aren’t real people.

the first problem i encountered is that only 20 or so stories were written within a year of just right’s release. absolute cringe gans. don’t you care about your boys? there were zero stories tagged “vore” or “microphilia” either. stories containing the word “tiny” that were rated either “explicit” or “mature” were all normal (“normal”) size fetishization rather than, you know, just right.

however, i learned my lesson from twitter. i realized that what had happened was that watching this video had created sleeper agents, just waiting for their activation phrase. that activation phrase? bangtan boys. and yeah, lo and behold, there was one! unfortunately (fortunately?) it had nothing to do with got7, let alone just right, so i’m not going to talk about it.

basically what i learned is that this video may have actually been very normal, and my brain has just been destroyed by being too online at a young age.

however, there are plenty more videos in this genre. i present to you exo wolf, a banger from may 30th, 2013. i say banger, because in a comedic inversion, it’s actually fucking terrible.

this video is pretty self-explanatory in terms of why it might induce certain responses.

let’s get the formalities out of the way. this video, the member who’s getting cancelled is kai. he has braids in this video :/

also skating on thin ice: xiumin and chen. guys what was up with the whole exo-m thing? like, we’re gonna have a cpop subgroup, but it’s going to be part chinese members and part korean members that we’ll give a chinese name? unsurprisingly, the three exo members who have departed from the group are all chinese. they weren’t able to stand the microaggressions probably. but xiumin and chen remain uncancelled as an official chinese apology for five thousand of years of on-and-off invasions of korea. sorry guys that was kinda fucked up. our bad!

anyway, there are basically three avenues for exo fans to take: 1) humans with wolfish characters (usually wolf pack dynamics, which even wolves themselves don’t fucking use so i think all of you should shut up. the real omega here is your brain), 2) werewolves (duh), and 3) wolves with human characteristics (i.e. standard furry fare).

exo themselves let all these possibilities exist at the same time, superimposing them over each other, which is very woke and egalitarian of them. let’s see what the people decided. awoo.

Asianfanfics dot com had many stories in this vein. i feel very validated that this time i was able to correctly predict a fetish. that said, briefly returning to my earlier comment regarding alternate universes: it’s intense psychic whiplash reading about these vampires and werewolves, and going okay okay luhan is a vampire this that whatever, and then seeing the actual real performance photos the author attaches at the bottom of each chapter. bro i forgot these were actual people.... it breaks immersion so bad... i’m sorry, i just can’t believe that any of these dancing boys are having weird vampire sex with wings or whatever.

archive of our own also had many stories in this vein. and i think there are some important difference between the two sites worth talking about.

first of all, i think the higher engagement rate of archive of our own really enables some of the authors to get super bold. it makes Asianfanfics.com seem a little quaint, actually. like the wordcounts are waaay longer, for one. it’s uncommon for a story hosted on Asianfanfics.com to be more than a few thousand words long (most of them could easily be published in the new yorker), whereas some of these archive of our own people have written full length novels about if the members of exo were werewolves. i guess it’s just intensely demoralizing for the aff.com crew to get, like, three comments per story.

the second big difference is that i’m noticing more common themes between the ao3 crew’s writing. like stan intertextuality, or plagiarism, or whatever, but they seem to be implicitly engaging with each other’s characterizations, storylines, and tropes. i think it is because they probably all follow each other on twitter. (i have been active on twitter for three weeks now so i am an expert on fanfiction twitter.)

anyway, like not that i am a particularly big gan (cannot even list all the members), but these people seem to have reached a very specific consensus on how jackson wang, for instance, would react in a variety of situations that really surprises me? if i were to sit down and write a got7 story, i think the fuckboitude, the douchebaggery is a big part of his charm. not to be nationalist or anything, but for god’s sake, he’s from hong kong. but these people have him as very sensitive, lots of protective instincts. not that i understood what anyone on aff.com was doing with his character either, but they did all seem to be doing different things. “kudos” to that, i guess.

but: exo. wolf. i searched the “wolves” tag. this filtered the list down from 33459 stories to 52 stories. and the “wolves” tag was very different from the aff.com “wolf” tag. for the most part, aff.com liked stories where a member was a wolf (usually shapeshifting), feral boy, lots of y/n, lots of y/n dating a feral boy who is secretly a wolf.

ao3 really, really, really likes alpha/beta/omega stories. sorting by the most popular stories, only five on the first page weren’t a/b/o. and one of them was a cis f!baekhyun story, so i think the intended effect was communicated. anyway, let’s talk about some of the themes.

first of all, i’m disappointed. today’s bonus cancellation is of ao3 “wolves” writers. why the fuck are you drawing so heavily from european wolves?? there are wolves in asia!! you don’t need to keep giving their packs and ranks weird latin names. i will kill you. i hate italy. korea literally has a native wolf. i hate all of you!!! if you want to write caucasian wolves go watch that dumbass cw show!!!! my god.

the second theme (the first one was white supremacy) is that no one wants to be a wolf who fucks. i think that we need a sex positivity movement, or something, for omega rights. like, are all of you doing okay? you’re queering misogyny by inventing new genders to oppress. another level to “no one wants to be a wolf...” is the “who fucks” part. there are so many consent issues. and not even in like, a sexy intentional way? in a “i genuinely do not think this author understands how their writing comes off” way. unfortunately i am sensitive to untagged sexual coercion, and there was a lot of that.

at any rate, the aff.com wolves were at peace with being wolves, very self-actualized. the ao3 wolves know that every minute they spend alive on this bitch of an earth is suffering, and also sex.

the third theme is the evolution of y/n. y/n, who, in a startlingly woke move for aff.com, is almost always korean, is a girl main character stumbling into love, boy bands, and wolves (i think it’s because aff.com is oldschool kpop fandom, so therefore heavily asian itself in userbase). but y/n is not the main character in ao3 stories. she is the straight best friend. in what i think is a hilarious move, ao3 authors invert the gay best friend paradigm to give the gay main character a straight girl as best friend. she usually calls him “a gay,” she has lots of thoughts on boys, and she knows his sexuality better than he does and before he does. (sidebar: if all the men are gay, and all the women are straight...)

there’s a really fun twist to this, though, because the main character is always a self-insert in fanfiction. but where older fanfiction like aff.com was at peace with this and literalize it via y/n shenanigans, modern fic writers who haven’t finished distangling their complicated relationship with wanting to be a man who loves other men instead simply imbue their main character with their essence. a little voodoo doll sehun, with a lock of y/n hair.

this creates a deeply ambivalent relationship with gender in these stories. the main character is usually an omega, but one who resents being an omega. their body and its parts is usually described, if at all, as ostensibly intersex (except more offensively), but in practice, these discourses inscribe a trans body. (nb: i think cis writers approach this in a really fucked up fetishizing way, but i hope by this point we know that that goes without saying) it’s incredibly straightforward to read this, and see the underlying desires and fears in a heady cocktail of unfiltered writing that’s deeply confessional. you know when freud had people say whatever the fuck they wanted and figured they’d eventually free associate into releasing their subconscious into reality? yeah.

okay, and while we’re on the topic, let’s talk f(x) nu abo, released on may 4th, 2010.

this is a blitzy, maximalist, amped up dance hit that even has its own applause and cheers built in. it’s so fucking annoying, and i love it.

this song is on here because the second most popular kpop a/b/o story on ao3 is called “nu abo” except it’s about bts. that’s offensive enough in its own right. write something about f(x) (702 works). when will women win the right to have their own self-lubricating holes.

anyway, even though f(x) is probably innocent in all of this, i’m still cancelling amber liu.

for queerbaiting. who told her to look like ruby rose but hot? and for what? i’m also cancelling her for racism, but that wasn’t in this video.

moving on to a double feature: vixx voodoo doll and vixx chained up, released november 19, 2013 and november 9, 2015 respectively. this is because while voodoo doll is more formative, i think the fans who write fanfiction today got into kpop more recently, so we are casting a wide net.

anyway, voodoo doll is jam packed with weird pseudo-medical imagery, blood, vivisection, bondage, puppet shit, femdom, sharps, piercings, asphyxiation, dollification, stabbing/penetration metaphors, and a really sick and catchy dance. god that looks like the list of tags on the a/b/o wolf stories.

for this song, we’re cancelling you, for being way too into this song when you were 13.

vixx voodoo doll made me goth i guess! insert that pic of the your music saved me sign, except it saved me from getting into emo or pop punk probably.

chained up, comparatively, is much more tame. the only thing of note about it is that there are around 10 completely different chokers and choker looks the members wear in this music video. also they’re singing about being chained up, but that seemed a bit obvious.

we could argue that voodoo doll is gay while chained up is gay (derogatory); that voodoo doll is queer while chained up is gay; that chained up is a sensitive masterpiece of omega4omega sexuality. but we’re not going to.

we’re going to talk about what voodoo doll fanfiction was and was not. first, Aff.com had plenty of it. however, i was extremely disappointed to see that much of it did not hew to the spirit of vixx voodoo doll. my god, the voodoo doll becoming the one preying upon you disgusts me. the fantasy of the voodoo doll is that of absolute power. the idea that the doll itself has agency? instantly breaks the fantasy. i’m even not into voodoo dolls and i’m offended.

i also don’t think it’s part of the voodoo doll fantasy to release the doll. the only story on there that involved Y/N kidnapping vixx members like in the music video was unavailable because the author deactivated their account. come back qxeen what did you see.

i think this got off track, actually, in that i was mostly wondering why these people imprinted differently onto vixx voodoo doll than i did. like i don’t think you’re supposed to actually like straightforwardly absorb the morals and aesthetics of music videos like it’s propaganda. however, it’s more entertaining if you do. i hope ao3 doesn’t let me down.

out of the then 5932 works in the vixx fandom (the least out of every group so far, excluding f(x) because they’re women), 59 of them included the word “voodoo” somewhere. that’s 1%. i legitimately can’t tell if that’s high or not.

after some more cursory reading through the first page of popular results, my big takeaway is that people watched that video and wanted to be tortured and enslaved? but not, like, in a sexy way where the torturing is the point, the way where the point is to suffer bravely and beautifully, to endure the world’s harms like jesus on the cross, and then to fall into the arms of a beautiful boy who may or may not be the one hurting you in the first place.

there’s a certain predictability to these fantasies. like it’s not even masochism, which would be fun at least, it’s literally just like the desire to be beautiful, even as you suffer. and i do find that a little boring. (but, i mean, you can’t help being a woman!)

sidebar: on chained up. what’s interesting about chained up, is that most of the then 38 “chained up” works (likely because the video has no storyline) are about the members fucking during chained up promotions. no one’s ever actually chained up, but whatever. it’s fine. it’s fine!

anyway, here, more than ever, the nature of desire is stripped bare. i’ve written before [elsewhere in the unreleased tshirt cinematic universe] on how kpop boys are, through fandom, re-formed as white, or more strongly, i guess, blank slates. it’s really interesting to me how so much of this dynamic of projection is enabled by the fact that they’re asian men. they’re infantilized, feminized vessels; they’re seductive, but childlike, oblivious to their own charms, so nonthreatening; they have uncontrollable desires for sex, they’re scared of sex. and above all else, white women submit themselves to them, insert themselves into them. basically kpop fans tend to rework old school yellow peril and emasculation fantasies to reenact their own desires, often white, often cishet on them.

what i am saying is that there’s another thesis about forced feminization and its racialized subtext in here. obviously gender is a racialized construct to begin with, but like it’s fascinating to argue that when white women remake asian men according to their own desires, that is, into themselves, they (hopefully) unintentionally echo these old fears about the sexual order.

it illuminates, it seems, the underlying dynamic in the denigration of asian men, which is of course the fear of miscegenation. now, my breathtaking ability to make everything about me aside, miscegenation is interesting because it presents a racial synthesis, beginning to collapse and trouble the artificial designations of purity. so we make asian men into white women, and end up with an unsettling hybrid. i’m sure this has deep implications for me personally.

but i think we already knew that quite a few of these people had yellow fever, so let’s talk about the gender dialectic at play. basically, the above dynamic, of making men into women (whether literally, in body; or subjectively, in mind; or even relationally, as they are objectified into passive vessels for your desire) coexists with the ostensibly converse dynamic, in which the straight women desires to be a gay man. these aren’t necessarily in conflict: it could easily be that these are different writers writing different stories, that both are ways of expressing discontent with existing in a raced, gendered body, or even that the end product of both is the same.

it’s been a while without a picture. all of you now have the legal right to hunt and kill me for making a d&g joke.

anyway, what i want to talk about is how these two fantasies can coexist. that by making a man into yourself, you can speak on your own desire in a passive way. my normal interest is analyzing forced masc fantasies (albeit in chinese opera lol), and they bear little to no resemblance to this kind of fantasy. this kind offers plausible deniability, of course, because wanting things is embarrassing. but also the fantasy isn’t about wanting to be a man, it’s about having no choice but to be a failed one. the gender pessimism running through these stories is palpable. basically andrea long chu wants what wolf fanfiction writers know: everyone is an omega, and everyone hates it.

at any rate, this racialized dynamic is one that i wasn’t sure how to bring up throughout this piece, mainly because there is no definitive way for me to tell the race of any individual writer, beyond just like the clear and present vibes that i receive. but i think it structures a lot of the fantasies contained in this essay. (i felt more comfortable bringing up the gendered dynamic, because it was fairly trivial to find out the current gender of the person writing each story i was reading.)

obviously we should return to the specter haunting this conversation: the very much alive david eng. i think this sort of argument is familiar to readers of racial castration, especially his chapter on m. butterfly. btw sorry for mentioning that play 2 out of 3 posts on this blog. i have problems.

let’s talk about the parallel imagery between the depiction of gallimard’s final speech and the fanfiction i’ve described above. in it, gallimard makes himself into his own dream woman, dressing in yellowface and robes, the costume of puccini’s original madame butterfly. and he laments his lost love:

there is a vision of the orient that i have. of slender women in chong sams and kimonos who die for the love of unworthy foreign devils. who are born and raised to be the perfect women. who take whatever punishment we give them, and bounce back, strengthened by love, unconditionally.

in that, i see the self insert, and i see the sufferer of vixx voodoo fic. the fantasy that gallimard has about asian women is repeated, this time about asian men and a helpless identification with them. and on some level, gallimard’s women do have something very compelling to identify with: they suggest that there’s a way to endure white male violence without sacrifice, and even more potently, to enjoy it on some level.

but onward to the titular racial castration. eng argues that gallimard’s wilful ignorance of song’s true gender is a psychic castration -- song’s masculinity is diminished so that his own can be enhanced within their relationship. this, eng believes, acts out “richard fung’s contention that in western imaginary ‘asian and anus are conflated.’” this process stabilizes the relationship between the asian man and the white woman: they occupy the same place within the sexual dyad.

this is, i think, why some people are addicted to writing from the bottom’s perspective. again -- not implying that irl bottoms don’t exist or that bottoms are psychically castrated lol -- but rather that you can fantasize about this ideal asian man that you can come to embody. in kpop rpf, rather than it being between a white man and an asian man (unless someone’s started writing chad future fic), it’s between two asian men. so this transformation is performed. whiteness is always intruding and so i think eng is helpful here to making it visible again.

this essay isn’t a callout or actual cancellation or anything like that, i do wanna be clear. i guess i just like talking about fantasies, even the embarrassing ones, and where they come from. i think oftentimes in fandom spaces, we write a lot of stories off as idfic, and i think virtually every single one of the stories i referenced to write this fairly uncontroversially fall into that category. but i think calling something an “id” something or the other naturalizes the satisfaction it gives as purely instinctual and unconscious, when i do think there are deeper narratives at play. while i didn’t ever actually reference the base here (sorry), i do think it’s worth talking about how real world power shapes & maintains the superstructure, and thereby our fantasies.

anyway in conclusion, maybe i was the one with sexual brainworms the whole time.

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bunny-bopper · 4 years ago

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Demonstrating One’s Talent

My first contribution to Snapetober is Snockhart! Thanks to @sxvxrxssnape for organising this event. I’m not sure I did whump right though...

Prompt 10: ‘you’re bleeding’ and 22: collapsed

Warnings: body horror, body horror elements, blood and injury

(but it is really just fun crack treated seriously I swear!)

AO3 link

Defence Against the Dark Arts should have been Harry's favourite class. It was certainly the one he got the best marks in, and no one could deny that he, of all people, needed to know how to defend himself. Considering that he'd had a close encounter with the world's most powerful dark wizard, who just happened to be very keen on murdering him, in his first year alone.

And it would have been his favourite class if not for the simpering, stuck-up, pompous twat of a teacher they had. For all his self-proclaimed skill and expertise in battling Dark Forces, Harry couldn't think of one useful thing Lockhart had taught them this year. And with a monster running loose about the castle no less!

It was unusual for Harry to arrive at the egotistical dolt's class on time, let alone early, but with Hermione still petrified in the Hospital Wing and Ron sleeping the day away after their terrifying introduction to Aragog last night, that is exactly where he found himself. He'd planned to spend the extra few minutes quietly pondering what it all meant – the mirror, the writing on the wall, the spiders – but, once he arrived on the third-floor corridor, he saw that something else unusual was going on.

Lockhart was slumped against the wall outside his classroom talking miserably away to himself. "I just...I simply cannot begin to fathom why he isn't interested!"

Interest piqued and having been provided cover by a handy suit of armour, Harry stopped to listen as a female voice came out of nowhere.

"Well perhaps if you were a little more...modest?"

It was then Harry realised Lockhart was not, in fact, talking to himself, but to a painting. One of a very pretty – and very naked – water nymph. Harry hadn't noticed it last year and rather suspected Lockhart of placing it there himself. She had large, ocean eyes alluringly framed with dark lashes and long brown hair that was perpetually wet from the fact that she spent all her time lazing in a lily pond, the flowers of which only just protected her modesty.

"One tries to be, my dear lady, truly. It's just rather difficult when one's talents are so..." Lockhart looked off into the distance, as though trying to come up with a word that properly conveyed such talents was a challenge in and of itself, "...abundant."

"Quite." The nymph scrunched up her delicate features as though she'd swallowed something foul, but Lockhart didn't seem to notice.

"Honestly, I mean, I'm not one to boast but I've never had this sort of trouble before – romantic trouble I mean – I'm used to having a line of ladies and gentlemen, all vying for my affections, long enough to stretch out the door! And now I'm reduced to lamenting my sorrows to a painting!"

"Excuse me!" said the nymph, thumping the water with her fist to create an angry splash. "I do have other things to do besides sit here and listen to you moaning about your love life!" Harry wasn't quite sure what

Lockhart shrank further down the wall. "My apologies," he mumbled. "I simply meant-"

"Look," the nymph began, with more pity in her voice this time. More than Harry could dream of showing someone so arrogant, at any rate. "Perhaps if you demonstrated your talents in front of him, rather than just...discussing them at great length...he'd take more of an interest."

"Alas!" Lockhart moaned. "I've been trying! Starting small, you know, so as not to overwhelm him. Just the other night I tried showing him the best way to skin a flobberworm but he chased me out of his office before I could even get the jar off his shelf!"

Flobberworms? Harry only knew of one teacher disgusting enough to keep jars of those in his office...but...it couldn't be!

"I thought demonstrating my prowess at our duelling club would have been enough!" Lockhart rambled on. "But the poor darling must have been too intimidated by me..."

No, Harry thought. No, no, no, no-

"Have you tried getting a little more...physical?" the nymph asked, rolling onto her side in the murky pool and running a hand over her ample hip to help get her point across.

"I must confess that I'm not above using my...sexuality...in these situations, but even that has failed me! I tried to take advantage of the summer heat, asked him if he wouldn't mind my taking off my shirt when we found ourselves alone in the staff room one stifling evening..."

The nymph's eyes lit up. "And? what happened?"

"He blast me with a cooling charm! He didn't stop until icicles were dangling from my nose!"

"Hmmm..." The nymph sighed. "I never thought I'd say this, but perhaps you should just give up."

"I fear you may be right, dear lady," said Lockhart sadly. "But I must be going – my students shall be here shortly. I have so much to fill their bright, young minds with!" With an elaborate wave towards the painting, he strutted off into the classroom.

Harry stayed where he was, letting the other students push past him to get to their seats. The girls giggled excitedly as they always did. He wondered what they would say if Harry told them Lockhart had a crush on Professor Snape.

***

Harry had been itching to tell Ron about what he'd overheard all day, but when he got back to Gryffindor Tower, he found his friend still sleeping. Getting a little concerned now, Harry pulled the sweat-soaked covers back from his face and gently shook him awake.

"Urrrggghhh," Ron moaned, "times' it?"

"Everyone's down at dinner," said Harry, by way of answer. "How are you feeling?"

"Not so good, mate."

He didn't look it either. Ron's face was ghastly pale behind his freckles and he was talking through his teeth as if trying to bite back waves of nauseating pain.

"I think we need to get you to the hospital wing."

Ron, as though talking required far too much effort, simply nodded.

Getting there wasn't going to be that easy though. It took three tries before Ron was able to stand and the only way he was going to remain upright was by Harry slinging his friend's arm over his own shoulder and taking most of his weight. They were both panting before they'd even got down the stairs.

Harry looked around the common room desperately in the hope that someone's appetite had forgone them that night and would still be around to help, but it was deserted. Heaving Ron over his shoulder again, he surrendered himself to the fact they had to make their way to the Hospital Wing alone.

***

This was bad. Harry was starting to think he should have left Ron in the common room and gone to fetch help rather than trying to lug him all the way down to the first floor by himself. Ron was still managing, somehow, to shuffle one foot weakly in front of the other, but he wasn't speaking at all, and his eyes kept fluttering closed so Harry had to steer them both through the endless hallways. But they were already on the third floor and Harry really didn't want to leave Ron alone. Better they just push on. With any luck, someone might-

"Potter!"

Someone else. Please.

But, of course, it was Snape who was striding towards them, a storming mess of menace and black robes. "And Weasley! Why are you not at dinner? There is no excuse to be wandering about the castle during these times-" Harry wanted to ask Snape why he was wandering the castle instead of sitting with the other teachers in the Great Hall, but he managed to keep his mouth shut. "-or perhaps, as always, you feel the rules don't apply to you?"

"Sir - you don't understand – Ron's-" As if to illustrate his point, Ron fell from Harry's arms and collapsed onto the floor. Harry immediately crouched down and began to shake him, repeatedly calling his name, but Ron didn't stir. Harry turned desperately to Snape who had stiffened with shock. "Sir! We need to-"

"Get out of the way, Potter!" he snapped, pushing Harry to the floor in his haste to get to Ron. He jumped straight into action right away, digging his fingers hard into Ron's neck, feeling his forehead with the back of his hand. The thought of being touched by those hands made Harry's skin crawl, but neither he nor Ron were in the position to be choosy right now.

"What happened?" Snape asked, loosening the buttons of Ron's striped pyjamas to better see the shallow rise and fall of his breathing.

"I-I don't know!" Harry stammered.

"Did he ingest something?"

"I don't think so!"

"Think, Potter!" said Snape, voice echoing down the corridor as he turned his full attention to Harry. "The two of you must have been meddling in something you shouldn't!"

Harry was spared from answering as a sing-song voice drifted up the corridor. "Oh Severuuuus?" Both he and Snape turned to look simultaneously.

"There you are!" Lockhart beamed as he rounded the corner and caught sight of the three of them. He didn't seem to question why they were on the floor. "You left before they served dessert! And before I could finish telling you about my latest line of haircare potions – I really think the tea tree and dandelion root shampoo would do wonders for your-"

"Not now you buffoon!" Snape hissed.

"I say," said Lockhart, noticing that one of their party was unconscious for the first time, "what's wrong with this poor fellow?"

"That's what I'm trying to determine!" Snape turned his furious face back to Harry. "But Potter here cares more about saving his own hide than the life of his friend, it seems."

"We were in the forest!" Harry blurted out. "There were these...these spider things."

"Weasley was bitten?" asked Snape.

"No!" There's no way Ron could have kept that to himself. "He was fine! He was just tired today. I thought it was just because we were out so late! All he said last night was that his back was weirdly itchy!"

Lockhart, who had been babbling away to himself about the time he had once bested an army of giant arachnids single-handedly, and how it was such a shame he had not been there to help, suddenly stopped mid-sentence. He was staring at Ron, eyes fixed on his torso. Then, in a voice Harry had never heard him use before, he said, "Open his shirt."

Both Harry and Snape just stared at him.

"Do it!" he commanded, kneeling down on the floor next to them. Snape hastily obeyed, deftly unbuttoning Ron's shirt and revealing his freckled chest. Harry watched as Lockhart, with none of his usual flair or pretence to be seen, began examining Ron's torso, kneading and prodding at his friend's flesh as if he actually knew what to look for. When he got to the lower left side of Ron's stomach, he froze.

"Oh dear," he whispered to himself. "Nothing to do but cut it out I'm afraid."

"Cut it-?" Snape spluttered. "Just what in Salazar's name are you going on about, man?!"

"Oh no!" Harry interrupted finally. "I'm not letting you do anything to him! Remember what you did to my arm?! We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey!"

"There's no time, dear boy!" Lockhart exclaimed, pulling out his wand from somewhere deep amongst his periwinkle robes. "And I'm afraid Madam Pomfrey, wonderful as she is, would be in over her head with this. I, however, know what I'm doing." Lockhart looked at Snape over Ron's body. "I really do this time," he added.

Snape, his expression unfathomable, opened his mouth to say something. Harry hoped he was finally going to insist on taking Ron as far away from Lockhart as possible and get him the appropriate help. But all that came out was a strangled gasp, that Harry closely followed with one of his own when something in Ron's chest...moved.

"Immobulus!" said Lockhart, pointing his wand at the protruding mass under Ron's skin before anyone could stop him. The...thing...slowed in its progress but continued travelling upwards. "Blast, it's a strong one," he muttered. "Severus. I need you to keep the curse going – don't overdo it though. It'll affect Weasley, too, but there's really no other way..."

Snape looked as though he was about to object, but something – the authoritative tone to Lockhart's voice perhaps - made him whip out his own wand, aim it at Ron's chest, and begin chanting some unknown curse in a low, melodic hum.

"Now, Harry?" said Lockhart, kindly but firmly. "I'm going to need you to support Weasley's head, he may start jerking around a bit, do you think you can do that?"

Harry just nodded, unable to speak. He shifted his position so as he was crouched at the top of Ron's head and slid his hands underneath to cushion the bony part of his skull. He looked anxiously between Snape, still focused intently on the thing now inching up Ron's ribcage, and Lockhart who, with a flick of his wrist, transfigured his raised wand into a shining, wicked scalpel. Harry swallowed. Ron, please survive so you can forgive me for letting this happen! Or punch me in the face – either way just please be okay!

"Severus?" Lockhart positioned his blade horrifyingly close to Ron's skin. "I know you're concentrating but listen to me. Once it's out it will try to burrow into the nearest living thing and that will, most likely, be me. You must kill it as quickly as possible. Understand?"

Snape, looking several shades paler than usual, jerked his head by way of acknowledgement, never once breaking his curse.

"Ready, then? One."

Harry found himself wishing Hermione was there.

"Two."

Merlin, he wished Colin Creevey was there! Anyone other than these two!

"Three."

Thick, dark blood poured from Ron's skin as the blade pierced him. So much blood! Lockhart must have done something wrong! But he kept slicing downward, slow and steady. Snape hovering over the whole time, humming his strange words.

A sickening screech, not unlike that of a mandrake, filled the air. The sound was garbled and bubbling through the blood which pooled endlessly within Ron's chest. Harry, wanting desperately to look away from the scene but finding himself unable to, thought he could make out something white wriggling angrily within Ron's wound. He watched with horror as a sharp, insect-like leg jutted out, then another, and another, flailing in the air in a frantic attempt to defend itself.

Then it burst out of Ron's chest.

Harry's vision was suddenly obscured as a splattering of red coated his glasses. He quickly shook them off, figuring his own limited vision was preferable to seeing nothing at all. He began to feel Ron's body jerk underneath him and tried to put all his focus into supporting his friend's head, but it was rather difficult with the strange creature rearing before him.

Harry couldn't see it clearly, but he could see enough. It was like a spider and not like a spider at the same time. About half the size of Harry's fist, its body was long, pale and slightly bulbous at the end. Six bony-looking legs that ended in razor-sharp points wriggled helplessly, trying to grasp on to whatever has disturbed it. It must have had a mouth (otherwise how else could it make that awful, ear-piercing sound?) but, for the life of him, Harry couldn't work out where it was.

Snape had gotten the worst of Ron's blood. It had splashed across his face and was dripping into his eyes and mouth. Momentarily blinded, he swore and tried to wipe the worst of it from his face but only succeeded in smearing it further around. Curse broken, and perhaps sensing an easy target, the creature rounded on him.

But Lockhart was too quick for it. Harry watched, amazed, as his normally useless Defence teacher thrust out his arm and batted at the creature. He uttered a pointless 'Shoo!' at it while attempting to push it away. Instead of obliging, it lunged.

Each horrible leg wrapped around Lockhart's forearm, tearing through his fine silk robes with ease. "Now, Severus!" he shouted before his voice dissolved into an agonised scream when the legs pierced his skin and began to disappear underneath.

Snape didn't need to be told twice. A stream of white-hot flames burst out of his wand aimed directly in line with the not-spider that had now fully latched onto Lockhart's arm. It let out a shriek more awful than ever before shrivelling in on itself and falling to the ground with a hollow thud.

Lockhart breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Severus. That was good thinking using a fire-based charm, but if I were you, I would have-"

But Snape wasn't listening. He was crouched over Ron, who thankfully had stopped jerking but was now lying much too still and covered in far too much blood. Snape began muttering yet another spell and trailing his wand over the large gash that was Ron's stomach. Harry marvelled as the blood began to flow back into his friend's body and the wound started to knit itself back together almost instantly.

Harry turned to Lockhart and tried to ask several questions at once. What was that thing? How did it get inside Ron? Is he going to be okay? But it ended up coming out something like, "Wha...howdit...kay?"

"A Scuttler," said Lockhart, apparently getting the gist. He nudged the shrivelled, burnt thing lying on the floor with his foot warily. "They aren't usually found in this country, but then again neither are Acromantula. Your friend here must have disturbed some of their larvae while you were off gallivanting about the forest. So lucky I-" Lockhart coughed when Snape shot him a glare, "-I mean, we were here! A moment longer and it would have reached his heart, and then...well...let's not dwell on that too much now, shall we?"

Harry felt like he was going to be sick.

***

It wasn't long before more help arrived in the form of Professor McGonagall. Who, in turn, arranged for more help to arrive in the form of Madam Pomfrey. By the time the medi-witch arrived Ron, miraculously, was sitting up, groggy and groaning but very much still alive. She still insisted on sending him to St. Mungos for a proper check-up, but that didn't stop Harry grinning from ear to ear.

"Urgh, Harry?" said Ron once he had been bundled onto a gurney.

"Yeah, mate? I'm here."

"Harry. There you are! I had this awful dream...'bout a spider..."

"It wasn't a dream, Ron! Lockhart saved you! And Snape, too!"

Ron laughed, clutched his stomach again the pain of it, then laughed again. "Good one!" he said, trying and failing not to giggle. "Snape and Lockhart! Snockhart!" He kept alternating between laughing and wincing in pain while they wheeled him away.

"Well...that's gratitude for you," said Lockhart.

Snape, who had stood back looking rather shell-shocked the whole time Ron was being checked over, finally spoke. "How did you know what to do?" he asked, touching Lockhart's arm.

Lockhart flushed. "I, uh, came across it once or twice. Did you know I trained as a Healer for a time? You don't forget when one of those comes rushing through the door! I was rather good at it if I do say so myself. No money to be made, sadly. Had to give it up. Now haircare – that's where the money is! As I was telling you-"

"You're bleeding," Snape interrupted.

Lockhart was still covered in so much blood it was difficult to tell which was his, but sure enough when he raised his trembling arm, dark red trickled steadily from his many wounds. "Aaha!" Lockhart exclaimed, slightly manically. "I'd clean forgot! Must be all the adrenaline, you know? Perfectly natural response. Oh dear, I'm starting to feel rather faint..."

Lockhart wobbled unsteadily but Snape caught him just in time.

"We'll go to my office," said Snape. "I have blood replenishing potions. Then we'll see to your arm." Then he added in a slightly lower tone. "And after that...my quarters are close by...you look like you could use a stiff one."

Still with a supporting arm around Lockhart, Snape spun him around and began carefully guiding him in the direction of the dungeons. Lockhart craned his neck to look at something just behind Harry, who turned to see the nymph from earlier had bustled her way into the nearest painting. She stood between a pair of armoured knights who were looking away awkwardly, probably because she was still naked, although somehow still strategically covered with waterlilies. She grinned at Lockhart from behind her sopping wet hair and gave him a thumbs up. One that Harry saw him briefly return.

#snockhart #severus snape x gilderoy lockhart #severus snape #gilderoy lockhart #pov harry potter #body horror #blood and injury #crack treated seriously #snockhart fic #snapetober #snapetober 2020

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softanxiouspatton · 5 years ago

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[Roceit] Scaled Seduction

[Okay, I started writing this purely as a crack fic which ended up as an actual just silly fluffy fic. I don’t know how but clearly you can tell I have never written a crack fic before.]

Genre: Fluff I guess.

Rating: PG-13.

Pairing(s): Romantic Roceit, Platonic Logicality (could be seen as romantic),

Word Count: 1,637 words.

Warnings: Mature Language, mentioned sex and sexual content, nudity, and snitties.

Summary: Deceit knows he’s losing the court case. So he decides to use some totally not dirty tricks.

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

Deceit knew all their weaknesses. Patton was a slut for second cookies and praise. Virgil loved encouragement and spiders. Logan couldn't help himself when it came to a healthy debate or documentary. And Roman…

Roman might have been a flirt but he was weak to compliments, flirts and exposed skin.

So here he was, trying to win a court case in one of Thomas' videos.

He's used compliments and flirts. He just needed something to help him win the case. He hummed. He knew Roman better than all of the sides… though Remus did mentioned something a while ago about Roman… what was it…

"Y'know my bro would go cuckoo bananas over your snitties." Said Remus casually. Deceit looked covering at him. "My… what?" Said Deceit bewildered. "Snitties. Snake y'know. Roman is a whore for your body. He thinks you're a sexy motherfucker. And he wants to do the yucky love stuff with you too. But yeah he wants to fuck you." Said Remus bluntly, focused on creating a purple spider.

Deceit blinked. "I see…" Said Deceit surprised. "I think it would be mighty sexy of you to accept the yucky love he has for you." Muttered Remus. Deceit nodded and he focused back on what he was doing.

Deceit smirked. Well… he might as well use that to his advantage.

He fanned himself with his hand. "My goodness it's quite warm in here, even for me." Sighed Deceit, lying without any worries. He pulled his bowtie off and undid his shirt halfway down, exposing what Remus called his "snitties". (It was simply his bare chest though his scales went down his body, slightly diagonal so it covered one half of his chest).

Immediately Roman began stammering, eyes slowly moving go lock on to Deceit. Patton gasped and placed his hands in his hips. "Deceit! This is a formal setting! Put your shirt back on!" Exclaimed Patton, cheeks pink. Virgil groaned and pulled his hood over his head, trying to zone out of the situation. Deceit restrained himself from smirking as he sat up on the table, leaning back.

"Why gosh Patton but it's positively melting here! I might overheat!" Exclaimed Deceit, stripping himself from his jacket and unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. Patton turned bright pink as Roman's eyes went wide and his face went red as his sash.

Logan groaned loudly from the back of the court. "Then the logical solution would be to switch on the air conditioning! Not to strip!" Called Logan. Thomas sunk further into his seat, confused at the entire situation. "Guys?" He said, but wasn't heard.

"Well why don't we ask Roman? Your honour, what should we do?" Said Deceit smoothly, tipping his head to look at Roman. He winked and Roman swallowed hard. "Oh uh- what to do- you- I mean uh-" Roman stammered before chuckling nervously.

"It is rather warm in here." Squeaked Roman, pulling at his collar nervously as he looked away. Virgil groaned loudly, pulling his hoodie to close around his face.

"Okay I think maybe we should pause on this, have a break and then come back when uh… we've all cooled down?" Suggested Thomas.

And so it did.

Patton broke out into giggles and Roman groaned in embarrassment. Virgil snickered and Logan sighed. Deceit broke out into a grin. Thomas sighed amused as the scenario had been paused as had the filming.

"Perhaps you can actually get dressed now Dee?" Suggested Virgil amused. Deceit hummed, pretending to be in thought. "Hmmm… but Roman all red is totally note cute." Said Deceit, winking at Roman. Roman went bright red and covered his face with his hands. "Dee…." Groaned Roman embarrassed. Patton giggled, cheeks pink. "I think you broke Roman. He's so red." Giggled Patton. Dee chuckled.

Thomas sighed amused and got up. "I'm going to get some air." Chuckled Thomas and walked away, Joan laughing as they followed him.

"I'd suggest that we do the same. Or that maybe Roman and Dee talk." Said Logan, walking down from the corner he had been in. "Oh could we go to that cute little coffee shop we saw on the way here?" Asked Patton excitedly. Logan sighed, his lips quirking upwards. "If Thomas allows it, I see no reason why we can't." Said Logan. Patton squealed and skipped over to join Logan by his side, taking his arm. The logical side hummed as they left, curling his arm up towards himself.

Virgil snickered. "Logan's right. You love birds need to sort out this tension between you two. Just don't do anything Pat wouldn't approve of." Joked Virgil, before he left to likely join Thomas and Joan.

"Virgil!" Gasped Roman, sinking out from the Judge's chair and back up in front of Deceit. "What? You wanted to do something Pat wouldn't like?" Teased Deceit. Roman blushed and shook his head. "Tease." Mumbled Roman shyly. Deceit chuckled.

"Mmh I wouldn't think so… Red is your colour after all. You look good in it. The image of pure beauty." Said Deceit, eyes gazing intently at Roman. Roman chuckled. "You flatter me Dee." Said Roman, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. "I speak the simple truth." Stated Deceit, the truth falling from his lips like sweet honey. Roman locked his gaze with Deceit's.

"Perhaps… but isn't the idea of beauty purely subjective?" Debated Roman, his eyebrow raised slightly. Deceit nodded calmly. The rosy colour in Roman's cheeks seemed to grow even more vibrant as it moved to colour his ears. "And so… does that suggest you would find me attractive per chance?" Asked Roman. Deceit hummed. "I would hope it was more than just suggested. I would believe it to be a well known fact." Said Deceit, his lips curling upwards. Roman sucked in a sharp breath oh so very quietly.

You see, the thing is, Deceit either spoke in lies or pure truth. There wasn't much of a grey area for the side. A fact that Deceit was very happily taking advantage of that very moment.

"You find me attractive." Said Roman, almost in disbelief. "Yes." Agreed Deceit. Roman swallowed hard. "Me? Dee I- I don't know what to say- I-" Stammered Roman. Dee sighed softly, amused but tired with beating around the bush.

He got off the table and calmly walked over to Roman. "Apologies for my abrupt actions in advance Roman. I grow rather tired with dancing around this any longer. Shove me off if you don't want this." Said Deceit as he walked over. Roman stumbled back slightly before Deceit pulled him into hot and heavy kiss.

Roman froze and Deceit calmly moved his hands to rest on Roman's shoulders. He let himself be an easy target if Roman decided to shove him off. Deceit began to pull back slowly when he felt a hand cradling the back of his head. He was pulled back into the kiss as Roman reciprocated happily. Deceit felt another hand slowly moving to rest against the small of his back. He allowed himself to be pulled fully against Roman. His arms moved around Roman's neck as they deepened the kiss. Roman found himself and Deceit both humming lowly into the kiss.

Neither side particularly wanted to pull back for air but alas they had to. They stayed closely pressed against each other though. Roman and Deceit gazed at each other.

"That… was… amazing." Whispered Roman. Deceit smiled amused. "Indeed." Agreed Deceit softly. Roman smiled back. "Perhaps… I could kiss you again?" Asked Roman softly. Deceit's expression lit up. "Absolutely not." Said Deceit, pulling Roman back in for a kiss. Roman enthusiastically moved with him, kissing him with all he had.

Deceit found himself back on the table, laughter erupting between kisses. He couldn't remember feeling so… giddy! Gasps and giggles sparked between them as they kissed. Deceit finally recognised that despite this reaction not quite usual for himself, it was rather natural for the more romantic side.

It only made sense. Of course Roman's giddiness was simply infectious. Deceit hummed and smiled as he basked in it, feeling Roman kiss along his jaw and cheeks. Roman's arms moved to hold Deceit close as they calmed down.

Roman smiled brightly at Deceit.

"I'm guessing… you feel the same way? You… love me?" Said Roman softly. Deceit rolled his eyes amused. "Mmh is the Pope Catholic?" Teased Deceit. Roman chuckled. "I don't know, is he?" Teased Roman back.

Deceit rolled his eyes and kissed Roman surprisingly soft. "I do love you." Murmured Deceit. Roman smiled, his hand moving to brush gently against Deceit's cheek. Deceit blinked in surprise at the gently touch on his scales.

"I love you too." Said Roman. Deceit grinned.

"Fucking finally."

The two pulled back to find Virgil leaning against the door frame. Roman blushed and Deceit snickered. "How long have you been there?" Said Roman. Virgil chuckled. "Not long. And Dee, get dressed. Filming is going to start again soon." Said Virgil amused before he walked away.

Deceit chuckled. "Well, I'm totally not getting dressed, your honour." Said Deceit winking while buttoning his shirt up. Roman flushed a bright red and cleared his throat embarrassed. They could hear the group nearby. Deceit was tying his bowtie up when he was surprised by a soft sweet kiss. Roman pulled back with a flustered smile. “A kiss before the others come back.” Said Roman. Deceit smiled and kissed him back. “Get back up their now, your honour.” Murmured Deceit amused.

Roman chuckled and sunk down, only to rise back up at the judge’s chair. It wasn’t long before the other’s joined them in the courtroom.

“Right, I hope you all have cooled down. Let’s start filming!” Said Joan as they lifted up their script. The sides laughed as well as Thomas and his friends. And so filming began.

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[Tagslist: @quietlypondering, @purp-man, @shitpost-sides, @fivenamereveals, @virgil-is-soft-boi, @ambersky0319 & anyone else who wishes to be tagged just send an ask or message!]

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overthinkingkdrama · 5 years ago

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Exit Review: My Country

Synopsis

This drama is set in the transition between the Goryeo and Joseon dynasties, and follows turbulent friendship turned fraught rivalry between Seo Hwi and Nam Seon Ho. Seo Hwi’s late father was the greatest swordsman of Goryeo, but after being framed for embezzling military supplies he was executed as a traitor, a stain which hangs over Hwi and his sister’s lives. Seon Ho is the illegitimate son of a powerful state official, but due to his mixed parentage he can never fully belong to his father’s world and has an insatiable ambition and bitter resentment toward his father which drives him.

Hwi and Seon Ho have been close since childhood, but when they end up going head to head in the state military exam a tragedy follows that will drive a terrible wedge between them. Eventually circumstances will force them to pick sides between General Yi Seong Gye (the first King of Joseon) an his ruthless son, Yi Bang Won, in the fight which will give shape and purpose to a newborn country.

Review

Story: My Country is a difficult drama for me to review objectively, in part because I loved it so much. Watching this drama was a truly absorbing and gripping experience for me, and it plays to so many of my story preferences. I was unequivocally obsessed with this drama from the premier to the finale, but during the weeks between airings I couldn’t help but feel like I was arm wrestling with the script.

It was characterization more than anything that gave me fits. I wouldn’t go so far as to accuse the show of giving us thin or two dimensional characters. To the contrary, each of these characters has a fully realized matrix of conflicting desires, loyalties and ambitions that inform their choices and alignments. However, it is often difficult to sift through those murky motivations and draw a clear line between a character’s internal desires and their external actions.

This drama starts out with an incredible cold open that raises all sort so questions about who these characters are and immediately invests you in finding out how they ended up in this situation. It’s truly masterfully done, and I probably rewatched it upwards of 10 times through the run. It kept me asking those questions all the way until the pay off. But because the writers were so invested in keeping their cards close to the chest, clear characterization was sometimes lost in the shuffle.

That said, this drama really is one beautiful, tragic escalation after another. Just taking the first two episodes in isolation is quite a ride. I really thought after the first few weeks, or hell, the first half, that the drama would get bogged down in plotting and politics or have nowhere left to go, but to my great joy it really doesn’t let up a single moment until the finale.

Acting: Where to even begin with the acting in this drama? All three of the main male leads: Yang Se Jong, Woo Do Hwan and the inimitable Jang Hyuk are perfectly cast and give inspired performances. Everything from posture to voice to subtle microexpressions is so stunningly on point.

I came into the drama already a big fan of both Woo Do Hwan and Jang Hyuk as actors, having followed them through other projects, so it wasn’t surprising to me that I liked them both here as well. However, what did surprise me was the extent to which they were able to show off their range and talent. As a long time Jang Hyuk fangirl, I would confidently argue that this particular rendition of the Yi Bang Won character is him at his absolute best. I also went into My Country relatively indifferent to Yang Se Jong, or at least not overly familiar with or impressed by his previous work. I’m happy to announce that that is no longer the case, as his performance of Hwi is one of the most memorable of the year for me, and his sheer level of commitment to the role is awe inspiring. There’s a video of him talking behind the scenes about a moment early on where he actually yelled himself hoarse embodying a moment of panic and grief, which made me appreciate the level thought and effort he put into playing this character.

I don’t want to limit my praise to just that trio of actors either, because the entire cast is incredible. I didn’t know much about Seolhyun before this role, but I thought she was really strong as well, though her character doesn’t feature as heavily as one might like or expect from the promotional material around this drama. The villains too are captivating, especially the detestable Nam Jeon played by veteran actor Ahn Nae Sang. Wow, you are really going to love to despise this guy. I just cannot say enough about the performances from top to bottom, because we would be here all day. The acting is really what makes the drama, especially the stunning chemistry between the characters, and more specifically the chemistry Yang Se Jong has with all the other leads.

Production: There is some movie quality cinematography throughout this drama. It just looks very, very good both in the way it is shot and the attention to detail, the props, the costumes the sets. There is a beautiful long tracking shot following Hwi through a battle field in episode 3 or 4 that was just jaw dropping. It really felt like they were flexing, honestly, and it’s refreshing to see this kind of cable quality coming out of South Korea and ending up on American Netflix for people to watch and appreciate.

I love the music in this drama. Some of it can come across a bit camp, like the electric guitar and strings heavy instrumental “My Country” that accompanies many of the sword fight scenes, but I loved Bang Won’s wailing violin theme music every time it showed up, and the OST definitely sets a mood.

One of the more distracting choices the drama made was to allude to certain historical characters like Poeun, Sambong and Choi Young but never have them actually appear as characters, in the present or in flashbacks, opting to address certain important events and philosophies through fictional expys such as Nam Jeon and Seo Geon instead. They even resort to filming certain scenes in strange oblique ways so that we understand Sambong is in the room but we don’t see his face.

The only thing I can figure is the writers wanted to use the audience’s familiarity with these historical figures without chaining the story too closely to the actual flow of historical events. Or perhaps they decided to exclude these characters in order to avoid too much direct comparison to the critically well-received and highly rated drama, Six Flying Dragons, which covers much of the same time period.

Feels: For me My Country watches like a bitter-sweet tragi-romantic melodrama centering on a toxic love triangle with a historical backdrop. And when I say “love triangle”, I am 100% referring to the interplay between Seon Ho, Hwi and Bang Won (my sincere apologies to poor Hui Jae) because that’s how the entire drama is structured. My Country is one of the most purely homoerotic things I’ve ever watched. If it weren’t for a few limp attempts to imply Seon Ho’s romantic interest was in Hui Jae and not his former friend, I would say “unapologetically homoerotic” but alas, South Korea isn’t quite there yet.

The romance between Hui Jae and Hwi never quite caught fire for me, though lord knows they were trying. It always felt like a side dish to the main course that the drama really wanted to serve: namely the star-crossed relationship of Hwi and Seon Ho. (And this is not meant as a dig toward those who liked the Hui Jae/Hwi romance. This section of the review is just about my subjective experience.)

There were moments where I worried, or couldn’t quite tell where the drama was taking us with regard to Seon Ho and Hwi, or where I feared everything was going to end in senseless destruction and they couldn’t successfully bring the plot to closure in just 16 episodes. But for the handful of issues I had with the writing of the drama, its final resolution was poetically, heart-wrenchingly, perfect.

My Country just pushes so many of my narrative and aesthetic buttons and plays heavily to my id. This is a drama that I’m going to be thinking about for a long, long time. I will definitely be watching it again and I will try to get as many other people to watch it as possible. I liked it that much.

Would I recommend My Country: The New Age? Yes, oh god yes. Please watch it. Watch it and then come talk to me about it. Definitely one of the best of the year.

9/10

#my country #my country: the new age #woo do hwan #yang se jong #jang hyuk #kim seolhyun #kdrama reviews #exit review

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sworn-unbeliever · 4 years ago

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30 - Splinter

(or: The Unchosen One) (or: The Completely Canon Story of How Teremy Arrived at Norvrandt)

((The last entry! I wanted to go out with a bang. Or a diatribe since this entry is really long. First of all, a huge thanks to @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast, an amazing person who tirelessly(?) organizes this event and with such passion and love. You’ve inspired so many to write or post, including me. Thank you so-so much. Also thank you to @abeat once again. I had asked her to have the Exarch describe Jeremy and she ran with it. She is amazing and hilarious and I can’t thank her enough for that and everything she’s done.

I debated whether or not to break up the story of how Teremy came to Norvrandt into a 3-part story for free Sunday. Then I opted to take Sundays off. But because of that, I decided to do this story as the last entry, and all in one go. Thus this entry is probably more digested than what it could have been. Either way, I had this silly idea stuck in my head for awhile about the sword in the stone and I finally got to write it. A huge thank you to anyone and everyone who has stuck around with me, my obsessive, self-indulgent stories, and this sarcastic musician-poet-dancer-thug up until now. You can also find me at @adeat, @quasionion, and @aspected-benefic. Until next time!))

Wc: 5,250

“Apologies for taking you out like this, but the citizens are as baffled as the local doctors. Perhaps you are able to shine light on this precarious situation.” said Lyna.

The two arrived side by side at the Rotunda. Upon Lyna and the Exarch’s arrival, commonfolk and guards alike parted, allowing them to pass. The Exarch didn’t have to go far to see what Lyna had been talking about. There in the center of the crowd laid an object that had not been there previously—a sword with a third of its black blade lodged in an oddly specifically-shaped stone. In fact, said object seemed so foreign that it looked as though someone had played a practical joke. Yet, as the Exarch held a hand towards the blade, he sensed great powers within.

“Whomever or whatever had brought this object here is no ordinary being.” said the Exarch. “The question is… what is this sword’s intended purpose?”

“This is why we’ve called you, my lord,” said Lyna, “in which you may hopefully shed light on this puzzling matter.

The Exarch held a hand to his chin and tilted his head. “Hm. ‘Tis most puzzling indeed. Perhaps I may attempt to divine an answer.”

Lyna bowed. “Please do, my lord.”

Closing his eyes, even though no one could see as such, the Exarch called upon the powers bestowed upon him by the Crystal Tower. He looked into the divide between worlds to see who the foretold hero would be. Using his phenomenal magical powers, he created a portal to show an image of the foretold hero. The crowds gasped in awe and wonder at the vision shown to them—a handsome, brown-haired miqo’te with a smile that radiated like the ever-present sun.

“Yes, I see it now. He is someone who is brave, kind and true. He is always kind to all creatures except his enemies. His enemies are creatures who are the bane of all that is good within our world. He feeds hungry orphans and houses needy animals. He is wise, benevolent and handsome—”

“What does being handsome have to do with being a legendary hero—” Lyna mused quietly under her breath. “Wait, is he feeding those orphans bacon bread?”

“—courageous and more powerful than anything across the land and sea—”

Lyna had never before doubted the wisdom of her grandfather, but she felt that was about to come to an end if this sweeping description continued for much longer.

“—he will come to us and slay all of the Light Wardens, Vauthry, and every last Eulmorean—”

“I doubt that’s necessary. Since when is mass murder heroic—” Lyna started to say.

“He is also chiseled like a god of war and has a magnificently long—”

“My lord, perhaps you should to try to summon the hero now?” Lyna interjected to prevent the description of the foretold from quickly going from a PG-13 rating to an 18+ one.

The Exarch coughed. “Yes! He is indeed the destined hero—the one foretold in the records.”

In the background, Moren, holding a tome, nodded vigorously.

“I see…” The Exarch held a hand to his hood, “... I see his name! His name is… Jeremy! Jeremy Itsubishi!”

Lyna quietly sighed, relieved that at least the remainder of the lengthy description had remained decent. “Where is this one, this Jeremy Itsubishi?”

“Alas, it may seem that he is… in a realm far beyond us. Much like the ones that have been drawn before.” The Exarch said tactfully. “But fret not. Mayhap with my magics I may be able to summon him here. Please stand back. I can guarantee neither the accuracy nor the drawbacks of this spell.” He held his staff in front of him.

The crowd, including Lyna, took large steps backwards to give the Exarch all the space he needed.

Closing his eyes again, the Exarch once again drew upon the powers bestowed to him by the Crystal Tower. He channeled his energies to cast a spell—one of which he had much practice. A giant, flat circle appeared in thin air. The Exarch reached inside, his hand vanishing into the hole. Bystanders peered to the sides and out the other end of the portal, yet saw nothing. A few moments later, the Exarch grinned like a cat that had just pounced on its prey.

“I have you now. Throw wide the gates!” the Exarch bellowed.

Everyone in the vicinity raised their arms as powerful gusts of wind billowed violently, yet somehow everyone’s feet remained firmly in place. The Exarch pulled his hand out of the portal. When the the portal vanished, all that remained were the Exarch himself and what he had pulled out.

Or, rather, who—a miqo’te, or mystel as they were known in these parts.

Blinking a few times, said miqo’te-mystel rubbed his eyes, one foot forward in a natural fighting stance, and looked around. “What the fuck is this place…? Can a guy ever get two winks of a rest? God fucking dammit! Agh. Next time, send me a warning ahead of time before you drag me through time and space?”

Lyna gestured to the brown-haired miqo’te-mystel that had just arrived. “Benevolence personified, my lord.”

Not one to be deterred that easily, the Exarch cleared his throat and spread his arms wide. “Welcome, destined hero, to the Crystarium in Norvrandt. I am the Crystal Exarch and I am the one who have summoned you here. You are the one fated for a destiny greater than you could ever imagine, Jeremy Itsubishi!”

“Jeremy…?” the brown-haired miqo’te-mystel asked. Rather than the higher pitch than the Exarch had imagined, this seeker spoke in a lower pitch with a natural velvety growl, even discernable from one word alone. “You mean my brother?”

Silence.

“... brother?” the Exarch asked.

“Jeremy’s my younger brother. I’m his elder twin brother. Teremy.”

The Exarch said nothing.

The crowd said nothing.

Lyna gestured to the brown-haired miqo’te-mystel again. “Once again, your aim is impeccable, my lord.”

* * *

“Teremy…?” the Exarch repeated slowly. “In what realm does one name their child ‘Teremy’?”

“I ask myself that every single day of my life,” said the aforementioned Teremy.

“Hmm.”

Placing a hand to his chin, the Exarch circled around Teremy, looking at the seeker up and down in a similar manner as one would appraise a fine piece of art. All the while, Teremy stood ramrod still, arms firmly at his side, his ears shooting straight up to the sky. Teremy sensed no malicious intent from this very familiar-sounding miqo’te, but at the same time, the longer the Exarch stared at him, the higher Teremy’s fight or flight thermometer rose. Any second longer and Teremy’s instincts will bolt him out of the room, whatever intention they had with him or no! Thankfully for Teremy, the appraisal process ended sooner, rather than later. The Exarch returned to his original position of in front of Teremy, his hand still on his chin.

“Well, he seems to appear the part on first blush,” said the Exarch. “He is quite handsome and his face, height and frame match the appearance of the one seen in the vision. Yet, there’s something different about him. I’m afraid I can’t quite place a finger on it.”

“Is it his hair, m’lord?” Lyna asked.

“Come to think of it, his hairstyle is different,” said the Exarch. “Rather than a lampshade, his hairstyle appears to be rather… messy? Side swept? But no, ‘tis another facet, one I’m failing to discern.”

Right then and there, Teremy wished his hairstyle looked like his brother’s. Then his mind could click on a light bulb as to what the fuck was going on.

“Then perhaps his build, m’lord?” Lyna asked.

The Exarch gave Teremy an appraising look up and down. “Yes, well, while the frame fits, his muscles are certainly much… larger. More pronounced. His shirt may as well be a second skin. A venerable god of war indeed. Perhaps he does even have a magnificently long—”

Teremy flattened his ears and pulled his hood over his head. “Out of sight, out of mind. Out of sight, out of mind. Out of sight, out of mind—”

Lyna cleared her throat. “My lord. Although the spell may have been deceived by facial likeness, perhaps we can still take this situation to our advantage and have him try to pull out the sword from the stone anyway.”

Teremy pulled his hood back down. “Sword in the stone…?”

The Exarch gestured to something behind him. “Yes, well, we had attempted to call the hero seen within a vision to pull this sword out from the stone. Perhaps you can feel the blade’s energies from here? I can sense it. And it has been and shall be foretold—”

Moren, tome in hand, nodded vigorously again.

“—that a hero will pull this sword from the stone and use it to save our world.”

“That’s one hell of a story for you to drag someone all the way through time and space,” said Teremy.

The seeker paused to regain his mental state. He had taken on an empire. Primals. Violent illegal cartels and their lords. Getting dragged through time and space seemed like a logical next step. He pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. Pain. Bad idea. Yet he still stood amid a crowd and in front of a hooded miqo’te no less. Pulled through time and space all because his brother was needed to fulfill some kind of prophecy. And it wasn’t like Teremy could nope out of there. He had no idea where he was in the first place.

Might as well see this great big fuss first.

Teremy turned around to see exactly the description—a sword in a stone. Nothing more, nothing less, except for the sword itself. Teremy recognised the type of blade right away.

A gunblade.

The chamber was the largest thing Teremy had ever seen. The blade itself thick with a black coating except for its sharp edges. What was a gunblade doing here? What was it doing in a stone? Waiting to be picked up like a hero of legend.

Indeed, a legend: Teremy’s own brother.

The seeker’s mind jumped back to a point in time when Jeremy pulled out that own gunblade. Wherever he had found it mattered not. The thing got destroyed in a later ensuing fight anyway, but the point of the matter was that Jeremy had kept it. Prior to then, the younger Itsubishi brother had never shown any particular interest in the gunblade. But then again, things changed. Did Jeremy’s sudden affinity for the gunblade show some kind of destiny at work? Fate’s guiding hand that gestured the way?

And then fate in the form of this Exarch guy nabbed the wrong brother.

Teremy approached the sword in the stone. The crowd and the Exarch took a step back to give him some space.

‘Well, what the hell. Might as well give this a shot. Nothing left to lose.’ Teremy thought.

He gripped the gunblade’s handle. Immediately he felt the smooth coolness as though forged to fit his hand perfectly. He and Jeremy had the same size and shape of hands, but different dexterity, with Teremy being common and right-handed. Then why did this grip feel so natural? Why upon its touch did he feel like his very arm had been stuck in the rock and not this sword’s blade? Did Teremy imagine things? Fully expecting the blade to take his arm off the moment he pulled, Teremy yanked the handle with all his might.

His arm swung straight up with so much force, Teremy fell backwards. He shoved one foot behind him, quickly regaining his footing. The crowd gasped and murmured, but not the kind of gasp that he had expected. Not disappointed but not awed.

Confused?

Flecks of rock and debris trickled down on Teremy’s head and face. After shaking his head, he lowered his arm to see that he had indeed pulled the sword out.

With the sword still lodged in the stone.

In fact, Teremy not only pulled the sword out, he pulled the stone out as well.

Holding the blade sideways, his left hand cupping the flat end of the blade—or, rather, the stone—he turned back to the Exarch. “Does this count...?”

The Exarch’s pursed lips told the whole story. “Hm. Perhaps I truly need to perfect my aim after all.”

“There is always next time, my lord,” said Lyna.

Teremy’s ears darted around to the front and the side to catch the audio filtering in.

Disappointment.

Chatter.

Norvrandt will forever lord under the curse of an ever-present sun. Sin eaters will reign until the end of days. Teremy frowned and stared at the sword-still-in-the-stone again. His mind flashed him images of a time when he still lived under his father’s roof. A time when Teremy had been nothing but a disappointment to his father. A time when he protected no one but himself. His fight or flight radar soared near the top, only to be stopped by a roadblock called his ire. In just a few short moments, Teremy had been dragged around just to let others down by virtue of not being special, and that was that?

The Exarch placed a hand on his hood. “My apologies. I must return to my quarters. Also, I apologise again for inconveniencing you. You are free to stay here at the Crystarium as long as you’d like. We shall summon your brother in due time.”

He leaned on his staff. Teremy held a hand forward to brace him, even if he didn’t feel like he had a right to be in the Exarch’s presence. The Exarch turned his head towards Teremy and smiled.

“Thank you, but I shall be all right. This is nothing new. Believe me.”

Lyna sighed. “Yes, he is correct. This is nothing new. Teremy, if you don’t mind, I shall take the Exarch to his chambers.”

Without knowing what else to say, Teremy held onto the Exarch until Lyna got her hold on the cloaked figure. Once the two headed back, the crowd dispersed as quickly as Teremy had arrived. Teremy looked at the sword-still-in-the-stone.

“What should I do with this thing?”

No answer. Everyone had gone their separate ways. And now Teremy had no other choice but to do the same. Exhaling loudly, he placed the sword-still-in-the-stone on his back where he usually strapped his gunblade. May as well make use of it. Thanks to years of extensive training, he felt very little difference in weight. Had to be good for something.

Teremy wandered south. Some things remained the same as he knew them to be, yet different. Same gardens, though in circular plots with lampshades hanging overhead. Trees yielded leaves of not only green, but lovely shades of lavender and blue as well. Long lamps and domed areas that shone an unearthly shade of blue. He definitely wasn’t in Eorzea anymore.

But the question was… now what?

“Um! Are you Teremy?” asked a vaguely familiar voice that sounded like that of a small boy.

Teremy whirled around to see a dunesfolk lalafell looking back up at him. Blond hair parted in the middle, crimson eyes that matched his bandana and jacket, and an aura of magic surrounding him. But moreso than the lalafell’s presence or his appearance, his voice caught Teremy’s memory cue. Where had he heard that voice before?

Just in case Teremy’s mind played tricks on him again, he spoke cautiously. “Now all of Norvrandt knows my name. No thanks to that spectacle earlier.”

“Spectacle? Ah… I must have missed it.” the lalafell asked. “I just got here myself. Thought to take a walk and get a good idea of this place. Understand your surroundings and all that.”

“Fair. Then how do you know me?”

“I was part of the group that catered to that dance auditions. You know, the one you took part in. When that plant monster attacked, I was your co-tank. The, uh, paladin, if you can call it that,” said the dunesfolk.

The lalafell’s words acted as a cue that triggered Teremy’s memory. The dance auditions in Costa Del Sol. A disgruntled auditionee summoned a giant plant monster in retribution. What Teremy had once believed to be just the catering crew turned out to be an astrologian, a white mage, and a paladin—although more like a hybrid spellcaster who shielded his entire body with big guard and flung magical swords like a red mage—who helped the dance crew fight off the sudden foe. Teremy distinctly recalled the voice of said paladin who warned the party of dangers. A young boy’s voice.

A voice exactly the same as this lalafell’s own.

The lalafell nodded and smiled. “You remember! So you are Teremy Itsubishi?”

Teremy nodded. “If you’re looking for Jeremy, he’s… not here. Unfortunately for the prophecy.”

Joey put his stubby finger to his mouth and tilted his head, looking down, as though weighing options of how to answer as such. When he craned his neck to look up again, he finally spoke. “I just happened to see you and you looked lost and confused. That’s all.”

The seeker rubbed his face. All those years of trying to look indifferent… thwarted by his bewilderment. What a day. “Right. You said you missed the spectacle. Thankfully for my pride. At any rate, what’s your name again?”

“Joey. Joey Madison.” The lalafell gestured to himself with his thumb. “So, um, what brings you all the way to Norvrandt?”

“I—” Teremy started, but stopped. What was he supposed to say? One moment he was in Costa Del Sol chilling with his brother on the beach, and then the next moment he found himself sucked into a portal with only time to grab his clothes. Not even his trusty gunblade.

Joey tilted his head. “Here, come with me. My mistress, Reonora, also got summoned through the portal and I followed her here. She’s going to ask the Exarch some questions. He might have some answers for you too.”

‘Sure didn’t have any answers earlier.’ Teremy thought, but followed Joey anyway. Couldn’t hurt.

* * *

As it turned out, Teremy hadn’t been the only one who got dragged through a portal against his will—the entire Fortunes & Fancies crew—of which Teremy had correctly remembered as the catering crew at the dance audition—had been dragged here as well. The Crystal Exarch’s original aim was to find the fabled Warrior of Light, the one who had saved Eorzea time and time again alongside the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Somehow, this extended to a humble shopkeeper trying to make a living, and both her retainers. Well, Rosemary, anyway. Joey had followed Reonora here by reopening the portal, but only due to traces of energies. He couldn’t open the portal back. In other words, in an attempt to find the Warrior of Light, the Exarch had pulled in nearly every single Scion of the Seventh Dawn, and them too.

For Teremy, because the Exarch had a vision of some legendary hero that could pull a sword from the stone. Now all Teremy had was the sword… and the stone.

Teremy folded his arms and said nothing as he listened to everyone else talk. To his limited thug mental capabilities, he gathered that the Scions had scattered at various parts around this world, and the Leveilleur twins happened to be the easiest ones to reach. At least from the Crystarium. Speaking of twins. Teremy bitterly wondered how one of them thought if they learned the other had been hailed some chosen hero, yet they weren’t the one and now they’re stuck here. No, no point to think about that. Things happened for a reason. Even though Teremy wasn’t exactly sure as to what yet.

“We should split up.” Reonora concluded. “I can go to Eulmore to find Alphinaud.”

Teremy unfolded his arms and stepped forward. “Then I’ll go to Ahm Araeng to find Alisaie.”

Everyone, including the Exarch, looked at Teremy in surprise.

“Are you certain?” The Exarch asked. “‘Tis true you have been pulled from your homeworld against your will—and for that, I deeply apologise. But you’re welcome to stay in the Crystarium as long as you like. There’s no need for you to go out of your way for this trouble, especially after the trouble I have caused you.”

Teremy cracked his knuckles. “Sitting still makes me antsy. Destined hero or not, I might as well make myself useful.”

Reonora held Rosemary’s hand. The keeper had clearly chosen who she wanted to take with her. Though she looked at Teremy as she spoke. “Then please take Joey with you. He may not look like it, but he is a versatile all-rounder. He should be able to help you in any capacity you need.”

Joey performed an eastern bow. “I’ll do my best!”

Teremy placed his right fist in his left palm and bowed.

“Then it’s decided,” said the Exarch. “Please speak to the Amaro Keepers once you have fully prepared.”

The girls headed out first, followed by Teremy and Joey. As the seeker and his newfound companion headed to the Amarokeep, Teremy wondered what he was going to do with this sword and the stone combination. He quickly concluded that he’d just carry the thing around. If nothing else, having the feel of a gunblade made him feel better, even if half of its blade was rendered useless. All else fails, he had an interesting sword-mace and story to tell Jeremy when he got home.

If he got home.

* * *

The last time anyone saw any trace of Alisaie, she was last seen at the Inn at Journey’s Head. From Mord Souq, Teremy and Joey traveled south—Joey on a flying chair, Teremy on foot. He needed some time to work off his nervous energy.

The blazing hot sun beat down upon them. Occasionally Teremy felt breaths of cold coming from Joey’s own aura. At one glance, he saw a few ice cubes hovering around the lalafell. Magic really could do anything. Although Teremy felt the effects of extra heat from his black clothes, he welcomed that feeling right now. He needed that reminder that he was still alive.

Expected of a place that bared an eternal sun, the Fields of Amber gave home to some of the largest sabotenders Teremy had ever seen. Gigatenders, as the natives called them. The two also passed by varieties of turtles and moles, but none of them gave the two any extra trouble. As they continued south down a rocky ledge, Teremy placed his hands in his pockets. His fingers grazed upon aether-charged bullets. To think, he had the bullets but not an actual gunblade to fire them. His gunblade had been left behind at Costa Del Sol. All Teremy had left was this part blade mostly rock thing. Maybe he could fire off a round or two and a Burst Strike would blast the rock off. He pulled the gunblade from his back and slammed the rock into a nearby larger rock. All Teremy felt was the other rock shatter upon impact. That rock. Not the stone, that looked not even a grain out of place.

Joey jumped and squeaked. Had Teremy not been in such a sour mood, he would have thought the lalafell’s noise to be cute. “Everything okay?”

“Too much sun.” Teremy strapped the gunblade to his back.

“Here, have some cold.”

Teremy never asked for anything, but he felt a cold breeze slowly billow around him. The miqo’te smiled a little. “Hypothermia.”

“S-sorry!”

“I’m kidding.”

“Oh!” Joey placed a hand to his mouth. “A sarcastic type. I see.”

“Glad we understand each other. Thanks for the cold, though. Feels nice.”

Teremy held one hand over the horizon. How much farther was this inn anyway? What kind of inn could even survive in the middle of a desert?

Just when Teremy thought he saw a trickle of blue like an aetheryte crystal coming from between two large rock formations, he also saw a flash of white streak across the sky. Pure killing instinct. And from Joey hopping off of his chair, Teremy knew that the lalafell sensed it too.

What they saw was a sight they had never seen before—beings of pure white with angelic wings but forms of monsters screeching from the sky and diving down towards what looked like hyurs in rags.

“Those are Sin Eaters! We have to be care—”

Joey didn’t have time to finish his sentence, for Teremy already ran ahead at full speed. Imbuing his body with the power of wind, he ran faster than Joey’s lalafell legs could keep up. The miqo’te thought he heard things from the lalafell like “—ful.” “This guy…!” and “Wait!” but too late. Teremy had already committed the moment he saw someone in trouble. And soon, one of the sin eaters keeled back in the air from Teremy’s shoulder tackle. A reverse roundhouse kick to send the next one flying. And a quick burst of qi energy launched like a projectile to push away the last.

“You all right?” Teremy asked what appeared to be hyurs.

And indeed they were. Or whatever they were called in this world—Teremy forgot the explanation nor did he have time to care. His strikes had only served as a distraction. The sin eaters regained their senses quickly and dove again.

“Go, quickly! I’ll hold them off!” Teremy whirled around and grabbed the gunblade strapped to his back. Footsteps pattered behind him. Good.

One of the sin eaters took a large dive at him. Teremy swung his gunblade, except that the weight at the tip felt much heavier than usual—not enough to knock Teremy off balance, but enough to feel the weight of that attack. Rather than slash and slice, the stone still attached to the gunblade bludgeoned the sin eater. Good show but not exactly what he was looking for. Taking a chance, Teremy filled the revolver with one aether bullet, snapped the gunblade back into place, and fired.

Ka-thunk.

The recoil of a burst strike sent Teremy flying back. He skidded on the ground to prevent himself from falling. And yes, to answer his question, the stone remained perfectly intact. Putting the useless gunblade away, he resorted back to martial arts again. A shoulder tackle. A series of hand strikes to points usually vital to humans, but the sin eater didn’t seem to recoil in the same manner. Now what?

A flechette of magical swords impaling the sin eaters answered Teremy’s question. Immediately following the hailstorm came bolts of fire. A sudden bolt of lightning that shocked the sin eater to its core. A bolt of unaspected energy flecked them, followed by a large gust of wind to blow them off target. Teremy watched as a red blur collided onto the sin eater in front of him, but it was the sin eater that inevitably went flying from a impact spell with Joey’s open palm as a catalyst.

“Careful. These sin eaters can sire you into one of them if they feel like it,” said Joey.

“Thanks for the heads up.” Teremy called back. ‘Huh. Magic and martial arts together. Don’t see that every day. Cool.’

Teremy turned around, raising his fists in a fighting stance. Now he and Joey stood back to back.

Turned out that these three sin eaters weren’t alone. Another screech and more arrived. Joey flung spell after spell. Lightning to unaspected kinetic magic. Wind to unaspected kinetic magic that sent sin eaters flying away towards Teremy, causing the miqo’te’s strikes to collide even harder. But the more sin eaters they felled, the more came. The more strikes the duo dished out, the more sin eaters clawed their way. Teremy felt more irritated than winded—the miqo’te was just getting warmed up. But Joey, as befitting of a typical spellcaster, felt his stamina ebb away from him. It wasn’t long before the lalafell fell on his knees, panting, using vercure to heal his and Teremy’s wounds, but the same spell couldn’t cure for Joey’s exhaustion.

Although Teremy could rely on his martial arts to attack, his very instincts reached to his gunblade. He had to be there. He had to be the one in front, to protect the party. To protect the people behind him. To protect his companions.

To protect…

Teremy clenched his teeth. He had known the answer all along. He just didn’t want to see it. He pulled the gunblade from his back. “You know what? Fuck this. I made a vow upon my honor to protect others. Destiny can go to hell!”

With the hardest swing he could muster, Teremy smashed the blade’s stone prison against the rock wall.

CRACK.

The stone shattered. The sword’s blade gleamed in the light, shining brightly like a smile from its first taste of freedom. His grip on the handle never felt any better. As he swung, he felt like this blade was not a weapon, but an extension of his own arm. Moreso than any blade he had ever possessed.

“C’mon!” Teremy beckoned to the sin eaters as his battle aura flared twice as brightly.

He vaulted into the air and spun around, sword outstretched. The blade cut cleanly into the sin eaters’ flesh. Another spin cut even deeper. Sensing the danger that shifted from Teremy’s battle aura alone, the sin eaters now flew away from Joey and towards Teremy instead.

Joey struggled to stay on his feet just enough to see Teremy call all the sin eaters in the vicinity to himself. Even in his tired state, Joey noted just how much the miqo’te’s fighting style had changed. Although powerful and graceful before, Teremy’s moves flowed much more naturally. Much more gracefully. Like he now had the means to complete his purpose. Still, there had to be something Joey could do. He watched Teremy spin around to attack all the sin eaters at once. But that alone, was that enough?

“Teremy. I got an idea. I’m going to imbue your blade.”

Whether or not Teremy had heard Joey, the lalafell proceeded anyway. Using Teremy’s blade as a catalyst, the lalafell summoned magical fire onto the blade. When Teremy spun, a trail of fire followed, cutting and burning into the sin eaters’ flesh. With their combined attacks and another flechette hailstorm, the sin eaters collapsed to the ground. Their bodies dispersed into the air, never to be seen again.

Joey flopped to the ground and sat down, exhaling. Teremy, too, panted slightly and leaned on the wall. The miqo’te laughed. Then Joey. And soon, the tension from the battle subsided from laughter of genuine relief.

“That was a good idea with the fire thing.” Teremy pointed the blade of his sword upwards and turned it with a flick of his wrists, reflecting light from the sun. “I’ll have to remember that technique for myself.”

“And you… you freed the sword from the stone,” said Joey.

Teremy stared at the black side of his blade. “I did, didn’t I? Heh… rather than be chosen, I forced my way, you could say.”

“Sometimes destiny is what we choose for ourselves,” said Joey. “Maybe the stone knew that.”

“Or I hit the damn thing too hard for its liking. Yeah. I’ll go with that story. Fate splintering off into the great unknown thanks to me.” Teremy strapped the gunblade to his back. “C’mon. Let’s go find Alisaie.”

As the two headed into the Inn at Journey’s Head, Teremy felt a wave of relief tide over him. Now he understood why he had been called to Norvrandt. There were people who needed saving and people he had to protect. He didn’t need to be chosen to protect others. He had already decided long ago what he wanted to do.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #FFxivWrite2020

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roseategales · 5 years ago

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LIKE A BUTTERFLY, YOU MUST BE REBORN — ONE-SHOT.

author’s notes: this was written, according to tumblr, two years ago on a roleplay blog i had for disney’s cinderella. i was creeping through it and decided, you know what, i’m still proud of it, let’s post it here and on ao3 too. why not. the scene takes place after lady tremaine locks ella in the attic, during the few hours before the morning that kit arrives. inspired by one of the tie-in novels, it was meant to be a character exploration to help understand why she finally embraced the name of cinderella, something i felt was lacking in the film.

Time passed. The sun had set, its radiant light long gone, faded into bleak darkness. In the attic where Ella was locked away, these conditions were magnified—more so now than ever, as she lay weeping against the wooden door, the draft chilling her to the bone. Yet little did she care. How could she? All her energies had been exhausted in caring, however nothing seemed to be of use. The very things that provided her hope, kept her heart beating with a lifeblood, were still ripped away, leaving naught but an ache that sought to claim her being.

For so long, this was the state she fought against. To prove it, she bore a weary appearance. Golden curls turned into matted knots, dark circles framed brown irises, what were delicate hands now had become covered in callouses; a glowing radiance transformed into ashen skin against thin, brittle bones.

Cinderwench!

Dirty Ella!

CINDERELLA!

That was what they called her. And, as she was taught, names have power, so that was what she would become. How satisfied the Tremaines must be—Lady Tremaine especially. To the end, Ella had tried to be kind, to have courage to do what was good and right, to honour the promises she made to Mother and Father; but alas, cruelty continued in its selfish path, seeking to rob an entire future, in spite of the good that tried to overcome it. Never before had anger been properly allowed to embitter her heart, yet now, as she cried out to no one, it gushed through her veins, with grief and despair following its wake (over and over and over again, unrelenting in revenge.)

What would—could—have been brighter days spent with Kit would never be, stolen from within her grasp. Their eyes would not meet; their smiles would not share whispers of joy to each other; they would not converse in (barely) disguised I Love Yous; they would not share the warmth of an embrace, the delicacy of a kiss; and they would not be intertwined together in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse.

But, if there was a fragment of hope to be found in her heart still, it was for that he would be able to find true love, even if she were not the blushing bride to be wed to him.

At last, dawn began to approach, illuminating the darkened room with faint sunbeams. Slowly, the light spread into every nook it found—including the hole in the floorboards, where Ella kept her most treasured possessions. This realisation drew her forlorn gaze towards the hidden crate; her body’s movements following not far behind. She pushed herself up, despite tired limbs making protest at what felt like lengthy steps against the cold floor.

When her knees knelt on the ground, her palms swiftly wiped away remaining tears that blurred her vision, only to have another strong wave of bitterness replace them as she inspected the objects. Mother’s portrait was cracked; the paper butterfly Father gifted her, torn. True, they were only material items, but these were some of their last remnants they left for her, and even those were not spared from damage.

I’m sorry, Mother… I’m sorry, Father… I’ve failed you. I tried to have faith. I tried to uphold my promises. But I couldn’t.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Countless mumbled apologies spilled forth from her lips. Tears continued to pour out, in spite of her body’s reaction to the pain they caused. From her head to her stomach, a nauseating affliction started to pound. Her frame, weak as it was, could not take the strain, and so barely held together, trembling under the weight. It hurt. From the inside out, she hurt. And as of then, all she desired was for this anguish and torment to end.

In that moment, it was as though Heaven heard her, and opened up its gates, allowing Ella to receive one more gift from her beloved parents.

A blanket of warmth sheltered her from the lingering chill, provided by the rising sun. Comfort settled into her skin, its ease aiding her lungs so she could breathe. Each breath drawn in further swept in a calm that steadied her heartbeat. Slowly, but surely, the throbbing pain began to lift. As the tears came to an end, she looked once more at the objects within the crate; this time, allowing sweet memories of her golden childhood to return to the focus of her mind.

Landscapes of the times spent riding on horseback with Mother through the forests; of reading plays and poems with Father in his study; of their smiles glowing bright as a family, just the three; of all the lessons these two vibrant hearts had taught hers during their fleeting, precious moments with together—all began to come alive again.

And then—an epiphany.

So much, her parents had taught her. Given her so much. And through all that the Tremaines had done to her, with their avaricious grips and viperish tongues, Ella—Cinderella, even—had tried and tried and tried to to cling steadfast to the treasures they left deep within who she was. Even in the face of a storm, when again threatened to be stripped of what she cherished, fearing the unknown, she still chose to hold on. No matter what would become of her.

So how, then, could she lose to cruelty now? Give up the person she knew her parents would be proud of? Maybe, maybe… Even after all that has been torn from her… That would be enough.

The morning light now in full view, clear blue skies hung above the lands, Ella—Cinderella—turned towards the window wearing a smile that touched her eyes; as though warm brown irises, tired but full of life still, could peer into the clouds and into heaven above. As bluebirds chirped outside and the pitter patter of scurrying mice feet drew into the room, she whispered this phrase to herself, that carried her through all the trials of life—this promise, prayer, and sign of gratitude…

Have courage, and be kind.

#cinderella fic #cinderella #cinderella 2015 fic #disney fic #mine.#my fics.#cinderella.#disney.#tbh i look back and now i understand why i can write so many words #without characters actually interacting lmao #the cinderella fandom might be dead but i am not

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blue---rose · 5 years ago

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White Widow - Chapter Three

Fanfiction.net | AO3

Title: White Widow Chapter: Three Author: Blue Rose Rating: M (Hard R) Pairing: Sasuke/Sakura Summary: "Running away was easy; not knowing what to do next was the hard part." - Sakura needed to stop fantasizing about running away to some other life, and start figuring out the one she had. [Sasu/Saku, Modern AU]

Warnings: Adult Content Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I damn sure don't make a single red cent for this either. So please, don't sue the Blue

Author Notes: If you like please don't forget to review/comment/like. Kudo's to my amazing beta: MySoberThoughts.

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

- ﾟ･*･ﾟ - Chap 1 - ﾟ･*･ﾟ - Chap 2 - ﾟ･*･ﾟ -

:✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧ B R ✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧:

Chapter Three

The front windows of the SUV were rolled down slightly, letting in a cool breeze. Parked on a quiet street, it sat next to a large maple tree that provided a protective shade from the bright sun. The glass was tinted, partially concealing the driver as his head leaned back against the headrest. A finger ideally tapped the steering wheel while dark eyes peered down the street, watching passing cars and pedestrians alike.

The area was pretty calm during this time of day. Nothing looked out of the ordinary… at least, not to the untrained eye. His eyes were focused on his target when his phone started to vibrate, immediately turning his attention away. Pale fingers reached out, retrieving it from the dashboard mount. His steady gaze shifted over the words, reading the incoming message notification before opening it.

Message:

"Hey, are you in the city? And before you yell at me; yes. I asked 'scruff lord' first."

Sasuke frowned, a stray lock falling to his brow as he wrote back. Had she heard from him? He straightened in his seat, ignoring the small bark from beside him as his phone vibrated in his hand. His eyes read the reply.

Message:

"Nope."

Making an impatient noise, his finger swiped across the screen. Bringing the device to his ear, he listened as it rang once, before a breathily voice picked up.

"Oh!? A phone call? Now this is a special occasion… to what do I owe the honor?" Ino sassed into his ear, in lieu of a proper greeting.

"You really haven't heard from him? Calls or texts?" Sasuke ignored her teasing.

"No, not for a while actually..."

He continued to listen as he leaned back against the headrest, glancing down the street to Kiba's duplex. His eyes scrutinized the dark sedan parked near the entrance, a few houses away. Sasuke had the perfect view from where he sat just around the corner, near the intersection. He was fairly confident he had not been spotted by its driver.

"-Well, he never responded so I'm reaching out to you. I just need some bud, and another friend of mines wants vike. I have cash, because the DollarApp phone thingy isn't working right now. Kiba's not picking up so-…"

"Yeah, whatever… just let me know how much-" A flash of pink from the corner of his eye had him turning his head, to look out the window. Dark eyes narrowing below furrowed brows as he saw-

"…Sakura?"

"Huh? What was that?"

His gazed volleyed back and forth between the pink haired woman standing across the street, waiting for the cross signal to turn; to the sedan parked further down the block, sitting near the duplex.

A few seconds passed before he perked up, moving into action.

He had just enough time to roll up the windows before making a grab for his keys in the console.

"-Gotta go." He ended the call abruptly, opening the truck's heavy door.

:✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧ B R ✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧:

Sakura ideally played with the lightweight scarf around her neck, a pale shade of green that brought out her eyes. The digits trailed to her pocket, running them across the cold metal of the keys resting inside before she pulled her hand out, zipping the pocket for safe keeping.

She welcomed the brief distraction the visit would provide from the work she was putting off. Her last few days were spent packing, preparing for her upcoming move. Going through drawers and other spaces turned up a lot of lost or forgotten things at her place.

She had been meaning to return the found items to Kiba, for quite some time now. A few calls and texts were sent, but there was no reply… just radio silence. She wasn't too concerned about it; there were many times in the past where he went missing for a few days, or even weeks. It didn't happen often, but she was still a bit miffed with the non-responses.

Alas, here she was… dropping by un-announced to come bug her sometimes-reclusive friend. She definitely could use the break. Her quest for a distraction manifested however, in the literal sense when she collided unexpectedly with someone.

"Whoa! Excuse me-"

She had just crossed the street; one heeled bootie just making it up on the curb, before the sudden impact. It wasn't hard enough for her to lose her footing, but it did catch her by surprise. She looked up mid-apology, only to be swept up in a hypnotic swirl of ink.

"Wh-…Sasuke?"

He only deposited a squirming Akamaru in her arms before taking her elbow, directing her to the left. They walked in the opposite direction of their friend's apartment, moving briskly down the sidewalk. She stumbled briefly, quickening her steps so she could match his longer stride. She could feel the warmth of his hand, even beneath the layers of clothing.

"Keep walking."

That was the only directive given for a time, until they were a block or so away. She finally turned, sitting down the puppy. Akamaru bounced around their feet, but she ignored him in favor of his human counterpart. Looking up in bemusement, she waited for an explanation.

"Have you spoken to Kiba?" Sasuke asked, fingers brushing the nylon leash wrapped around his wrist.

She shook her head, soft swept bangs framing her face as he peered down at her.

"No. I've been looking for him, though." She blinked up at him, eyes squinting in contemplation. "Why? What's going on?"

His strange behavior was setting her on edge.

Sasuke shifted, eyes darting up as a jogger ran past. Akamaru gave a brief chase after the unsuspecting runner, but the leash pulled, making him give up.

"He's been gone, and…" Sasuke started, meeting her eyes once again. When there was another pause, she began to realize that getting direct answers from this man was akin to pulling teeth.

He clearly wanted to say more, but hesitated. She made an effort to remove any impatience from her tone as she prodded gently, "…-And?"

"…And now, there's a car staking out the place."

She frowned, glancing behind him down the street. "Police?" she whispered.

"Not sure yet." He turned to look in the same direction, before turning to meet her eyes.

"Don't go near there. I don't want whoever has eyes on the place, to see you hanging around."

Sakura's brows drew together in a frown, perturbed at what this could all mean.

He just continued on, voice still carrying as he turned to leave.

"I'll meet up with you and Ino, later. We'll talk more, then."

With that, Sasuke walked back towards the direction they came… Akamaru trailing along behind him.

She blinked, belatedly realizing she never asked him why he had Kiba's dog in the first place.

Just what the hell was going on?

:✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧ B R ✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧:

The office's decor housed some very unique pieces of antique furniture. They were placed strategically around the spacious area, mixing abnormally well among the otherwise, modern layout. A hand carved, large oak desk the man currently sat behind, was one of them.

Eyes skimmed the documents placed in front of him hours ago; pouring over everything while taking notes in the margins. The reading glasses perched low on his nose allowed him to scan the words, without everything blurring together as they tended to do, in recent years. The door opening to the room did not entice him to raise his head, but he did pause in his work… head inclining slightly.

"I take it, you took care of things?" He asked. The muted sound of the pen moving across the paper was drowned by a heavy grunt soon after.

The newcomer sat down in a cozy overstuffed chair, sinking down in the worn leather. "It's been handled."

Another pause, before the man behind the desk finally glanced up. "And you are sure this was the right course of action?"

Their eyes met above the computer monitor, before the guest broke the stare with a smirk. "A little too late, to ask such a thing, is it not?"

The pen hovered above another document, his gaze falling to pay attention to his work, once again. "I suppose it is…"

:✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧ B R ✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧:

The heavy door swung open, allowing the puppy to walk through and enter. Akamaru made a beeline for the water dish, anxious to take a few refreshing laps.

Sasuke sighed, moving to hang the leash on the coat rack. Shrugging out of his jacket, he walked further into the loft.

"Did you know, I really made that key for you to use in emergencies?" He asked his brother, making his way to the fridge for a drink. He felt the other man's presence when he walked in, before he ever caught sight of him in his peripheral. The older Uchiha stood from the sofa, coming to stand next to the kitchen island.

"Noted. Now on to more important things… did you find out anything? I see you still have the dog."

"I think someone put eyes on Kiba's. I don't know who… but I should know something soon."

"You should be more careful. You shouldn't have driven your own car over there until you know who that is. Don't be sloppy."

"I'm not. They were amateurs… had no idea they were being watched, themselves." Sasuke grumbled, pouring the filtered water into a glass, before taking a sip.

Narrowing his eyes, his older brother cut right to the chase.

"Are you sure about this? Is he hiding from someone? Maybe some trouble you've kept from me?"

"No… he's been dependable since we've known him, so why start some shit now, by pulling this?"

Itachi just sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know why. I'm not a babysitter Sasuke."

Sasuke wanted to say something else that would have had his brother reaching out to take a swipe at him. And if his memory was as sharp as he knew it to be, Itachi would have connected the blow. Instead, he took a deep breath… trying to make sense of the situation.

"I just… I think something is up, but I don't want to cause a full-blown panic either."

"And his friends? What are they saying?"

"Nothing so far. l'll see what I can find out tonight, and if she knows anything."

"…-She?"

His face immediately went blank, eyes fluttering to glance at his older brother briefly… before returning to the countertop.

"I'll let you know if I learn anything."

' Please don't talk. '

Sasuke raised the glass to his lips again.

' Please… just… don't say a fucking word… '

His brother's eyes had not left him, dark stare holding his own over the glass.

' For once, in your miserable life, don't you fucking dare make fun of me or- '

Itachi's mouth twitched, the corner turning up in a hint of a smile. Sasuke caught sight of it before the elder turned his back, moving away from the kitchen to leave.

"Ok… keep me posted." Itachi said retreating to the front door, slipping on his shoes.

Sasuke grunted, in disbelief he was being spared a round of relentless teasing… this time. Rolling his eyes he headed for the fridge again, looking for something to eat. Why did his brother even bother coming over, when he could have just called?

Itachi paused, looking back at him. "And Sasuke? Watch yourself. Until we know more…"

"…Yeah." he replied, already on the same page.

Their eyes met before he closed the door, leaving the younger siblings' home.

:✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧ B R ✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧:

✧･ﾟ* : *ﾟ･✧

Everything began to tighten as she squirmed against the sheets, her soft belly curving in as her breath was stolen. Pleasure hummed throughout her body as her lips parted. She had to lick them, catching the bottom one in-between her teeth, as another moan vibrated against her throat.

Her hair clouded some of her vision, the thick strands falling around her in a pretty mess as they continued to move. His large hands clasped her hips so perfectly, pulling and guiding, as she rolled with his momentum.

Her breath caught as she chased the rhythm he'd set for them both.

His magisterial pace was satisfying, moving her with him through every slick glide. His hair hung wildly in his face, casting his eyes in shadow as he flexed against her, grunting on a particularly deep thrust.

She reached back, her hand wrapping around his straining forearm. She felt the protruding veins beneath her sensitive finger pads, and her fingers tensed… nails biting gently into his damp skin. Looking behind, she met his gaze as she pushed back, their skin slapping together in one of the most sexiest sounds she'd ever heard in her life.

Her feet braced in the plush carpet, between his own.

Sakura's knees locked, trying to hitch her hips as high as they could go, while keeping her upper half flush against the bed beneath her. A soft pillow had been shoved beneath her hips ages ago, to help keep the angle that was driving them both insane.

He growled and moved one of his hands to grasp her ass, palming and pulling, eager to fuck her as hard as she was begging him to. The air was heated between them; the atmosphere becoming so heavily charged… crawling over them both as the excitement grew.

She whined underneath him, starting to ache in the best, and worst ways…

Something was approaching, making her clench deep inside and she pushed back against him.

Bottomless pools of green kept on him… through it all.

The look she gave over her shoulder ensnared him completely. She needed to see if he was going to finish what he started. He promised to make her fall apart, and stop the ache that was building...

…A heat that kept rising from the place he was currently penetrating, over and over and over again.

"Please-!" She could not help the cry that escaped in that moment. The plea was so honest, so desperate…

It was so close , damnit.

All he needed to do was shift… just a little.

But… shit … maybe she could do it all on her own… just raise a knee to the bed to contort her body in just the right angle and…

"God…!"

Oh… it was so close…

And she finally closed her eyes as he-

✧･ﾟ* : *ﾟ･✧

"Sakura!"

A whimper escaped as she flinched, blinking rapidly as her tired mind tried to catch up with reality.

"W-…What?"

"I said 'We're here'. It's barely nine, you can't be that sleepy. Come on." The blonde exited the car, making sure to tug down the hem to her ridiculously short dress.

Sakura sighed, pulling out her compact to check for drool marks. She couldn't believe she had such a vivid dream like that. Hadn't she just closed her eyes for a moment? Her head rested against the glass but she didn't mean to fall asleep after Ino picked her up.

Although, now that she remembered… she was going out under protest. She thought it was going to be another lazy night of packing and ice-cream, but her best friend had other plans. Just one drink, she said.

And Ino being Ino… was not taking no for an answer.

'Besides', she had tried to reason, 'You get to see your booty-call again.'

It was a tempting thought, then, when it was first mentioned… but now they were here? Her stomach was doing flips. Why the hell was she so nervous all of a sudden? The butterfly faze should end once you've seen each other naked, right? Wasn't that how it should work?

Sighing, she closed the compact with a snap and stashed it in her bag. There were no lines on her face… but there was a redness that did not come from the blush makeup used earlier.

"You said a bar, this looks more like a night club… am I underdressed?" Sakura asked as they approached the entryway. Ino turned; giving her ripped black jeans and red-bottomed heels a once over.

"It's a hookah lounge-bar, with a nightclub in the upper level. And you look gorgeous; no one is turning you away from any door, ever. Besides, you're with me… duh."

Grabbing her hand, she marched them to the front, winking at the doorman who lifted the velvet rope. Another bouncer held open the door as the two ducked inside.

Sakura somberly hoped this would not be an all-night excursion.

:✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧ B R ✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧:

There were two things that stuck out to him, after meeting her for the very first time.

The first?

She had breathtakingly, beautiful eyes.

If you were in close proximity to her… you definitely took notice.

Even the most reserved or poised individual found themselves looking a bit longer than deemed appropriate sometimes. It always traveled into uncomfortable scrutiny if they weren't careful. Many people were given a pass though.

He even heard Ino tell her on one occasion that; 'staring came with being as pretty as she was', and that at least people chose to ogle her eyes, and not something else.

In a weird way, what she said made sense.

Besides… they were pretty.

An unusual shade of green that had to be seen, up close, to really get the full effect.

The second thing he could remember?

She wasn't irritating.

Granted, she had her quirks.

The obnoxious shade of hair that made spotting her entirely too easy…

The animated way she talked sometimes, hands waving and gesturing; hoping to help you keep up with the conversation…

There was a bit more to it, than just tolerating her, too. She was one of the only people he'd met, whose rambling didn't grate on his nerves, like nails on a chalkboard. Conversations; though short between them in the past, were usually pleasant enough. It never felt forced, and even the silence was comfortable.

She was into fashion and jewelry, but was not obnoxious with it all. She was smart and confident, but genuinely humble and kind. She cared for those close to her and took little, to no shit from everyone else. She'd proven herself to be loyal and true from what he could see, with those who knew her and called her a friend.

It was always easy to be in her presence since they'd first been introduced.

Well…

At least it had been, up until this past New Years.

And that… he would place squarely on her shoulders.

Shifting on the barstool, he glanced up at the endless liquor bottles and giant mirrors lining the wall behind the bar, finding his own reflection easily.

And why was thinking about such things to begin with?

He liked her.

It was a thought that flashed across his mind more than once since their fateful encounter.

He didn't chase… and he damn sure wasn't the clingy type. He usually was not the first to reach out. He was the one who shied away from repeated encounters. He was the one who avoided phone calls and dodged texts.

So to be put in such a position… was foreign to him.

He lost the opportunity to dwell on such thoughts as the quiet moment was interrupted; they had arrived. He caught sight of them as they entered, as did a few other men sitting at the bar around him. He watched through the mirror as they made their way to a cozy booth in the back, quickly ordering drinks. Taking a minute to finish his own, he made his way towards them.

Sasuke slipped inside the booth, causing the blonde to look up, setting her drink down to acknowledge him. "Well hello there, handsome." Ino greeted, pearly whites smiling at him.

His eyes flashed to Sakura, who was sitting on the other side of Ino, and gave a general greeting to them both. She'd barely kept his gaze, eyes shifting to the table after muttering a quick 'Hey'.

He could feel her unease, even from here. That made no difference. His mood was on the darker side tonight, so he really didn't care. He would embrace any temporary distraction, even if it was a mild confrontation.

Besides… they hadn't even started.

Ino reached up, slipping her clutch from the table to sit it against her thigh.

Turning his attention elsewhere for the time being, he retrieved a few zipped pouched bags from his inner pocket, sliding them easily into Ino's waiting hands. Moments later, folded bills were handed back.

Once that business settled, he moved on to another topic.

"Kiba's gone missing." He started. Sakura perked up, eyes lifting to meet his.

"He's pulled this before." Ino wasn't the least bit worried. "It just means he needs a few days to himself. He takes these breaks to deal with anxiety and other shit. Just give him some space."

"How long before? Without any of you knowing where he went?"

Ino paused, thinking hard.

Sakura's brow furrowed, shaking her head slightly.

"I think he's always told at least one person when he did. Besides, he hasn't done that since high school, right?" She asked glancing to her side at her blonde friend, who nodded in response.

"I have his mutt. I was supposed to meet up with him to drop him off, but..." he trailed off, but was soon interrupted.

"He'll turn up. He's probably just laying low for a while."

Sasuke knew he sounded like a broken record, but he needed to be sure…

"And neither of you have seen him, you're sure?"

"Yes, we are sure." Ino felt like they were being interrogated, and was becoming agitated. Everyone just needed to chill, and give the boy some space. If he needed a little time for himself, then they should let him have it. Besides, knowing Kiba he's liable to show up a week from now; with a tan and smelling like cheap perfume and coconut oil.

Sasuke relented, letting it go. "Just let me know if you hear anything."

His eyes met both of their own, and the girls gave slight nods in agreement.

Sasuke's eyes traveled past the blonde to the quiet girl on her other side. He silently dared her to look his way, but to no avail. She shifted discreetly, but the movement was caught by the other two parties.

Ino's eyes narrowed between the two of them, eyes darting back and forth before sucking her teeth.

Really, now… why the hell was there so much... tension? Didn't they already do the sex thing?

"So lame..."

Dark eyes blinked before darting to her much lighter ones, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Hn?" He leaned away when her lip curled.

Drowning the rest of her martini, Ino grabbed her clutch, feeling the slight, added weight to the purse, and nudged Sasuke's side. They were boring her with all this pussyfooting.

"Nothing... now let me up, I'm going to take this to my friends upstairs. Thanks for coming through with this." Standing to her feet, she accepted the polite hand he held out to help.

"A gentleman too? Hmmm…" Ino smirked as she passed him, ignoring a random cat-call from a group of guys near the front. She climbed the stairs to the upper level, leaving her best friend to the dark wolf.

Sakura was oblivious to her new predicament, slowly moving to exit from the other side of the booth, but paused then Sasuke moved in the way. Sitting down, he slid across the dark leather, to settle flush against her side.

Now to handle the third reason he was here.

"Have a drink with me." He nodded to the cocktail waitress, who made her way over to them.

"I already had one-" she started, watching Ino's back as she disappeared from view.

"Then have another." He cut her off, body rigid next to her, despite the smoothness of his voice.

She could feel the hum of energy his body seemed to exude.

She shifted as their arms brushed against each other, still nothing but a bottle of nerves… eyes darting from Ino's abandoned drink to her own; refusing to meet his eyes.

There was silence as neither said a word, and even their drinks being placed in front of them did not break the heavy tension surrounding them. Biting her lip, she finally spoke up.

"Well… this isn't awkward at all."

There, she broke the ice.

At least… she hoped it would have that effect.

"More awkward than leaving the next day, to another country?"

"You really think that that; was the only reason I left?"

He had some nerve, and was a lot more arrogant than she gave him credit for.

"I didn't know you'd left, until a few days later." He took a long sip from his beer, his thumb wiping a bit of moisture from the corner of his lip. Her eyes followed the movement, drifting away before she got caught. He shifted beside her, before turning metal dark eyes to her.

"I didn't… have your number, so I got it from Ino."

' I had yours. '

She thanked any god who was listening that she did not say that out loud. Sinking underneath the table would not be low enough to erase her mortification. She could not recall exactly how, or when she came into possession of it, but she did have it saved in her phone, long before their tyst.

"I called you." He admitted, taking another drink.

' I know. '

She saw the call when it came through, along with the second one; the next day after that.

"It must have shown as a blocked number so I didn't pick up… sorry."

"I texted you." Something shifted in his gaze while he looked at her, and she was hard-pressed to look away. She became aware of the heat, radiating from his body and they… they were sitting way too close.

"I may be a lot of things, but I'm no one's fucking regret."

That snapped her back to the present, and she blinked rapidly, her brow lowered.

"Me? I thought you did…"

She thought he regretted it all, or at the very least… didn't really care.

He said nothing as his gaze remained locked on hers, not moving as he waited to see if she was joking or not. When she still sat there his eyes narrowed, his body turning slightly towards her and she leaned back; wide, pretty green eyes sparkling.

Successfully intimidated, she sputtered over her words as she finally began telling her story, explaining why she felt the way she felt, and had taken such a stance in the first place…

✧･ﾟ* : *ﾟ･✧

Sakura half listened to what he was saying as he sat on the edge of the bed, phone to his ear as he drags his discarded jeans from the floor. His voice is scuffed when he answers his phone; hardened from use over the last few hours no doubt … and even she can tell he is peeved. There was a brief pause, his eyes shifting behind to glance at her, before speaking into the device.

"…-Nothing important."

Coldness… seeming to come from nowhere, crept through her body at his words, the feeling of something very close to rejection and humiliation… made her fingers numb. He did not see her reaction as he stood, wandering over to the tall windows. He spoke in a raspy tone, the hushed words too low for her to now overhear.

Sakura swung her legs down, wincing at the slight throb between her thighs. She would definitely need to soak in the tub, after all of the rough play, no doubt.

But first, she needed to make a timely escape.

This would be easier, if this was not her temporary domain. If it weren't, she could just grab her shoes and make her way to the front door. Alas, that was not an option at this point. The bathroom would have to suffice… either that, or go down in the elevator.

She was halfway to the door when his voice stopped her. Finished with his call, he was now trying to explain his upcoming, hasty departure. She turned with a smile that didn't meet her eyes, watching as his chest disappeared behind the shirt he just found. She cheerily replied not to worry, and she would catch up with him later...

All without breaking her stride until she was hidden behind the safety of the bathroom door.

✧･ﾟ* : *ﾟ･✧

He continued to stare at her, even as her voice trailed off.

She didn't dare move, watching closely to see what his reaction would be. He broke their gaze and reached for his beer, taking another swig.

Placing it on the table, he looked at her, opening his mouth to say something…

…Only to change his mind instead, picking up the bottle to chug the rest of the alcohol.

Sakura sat in silence as he flagged down the waitress to order another round.

They sat there for a good minute, long enough for the eager waitress to return with his refreshment and clearing the used glasses. Two fingers and his thumb held the long neck of the bottle, resting it on the table before he finally spoke up.

"You are fucking annoying."

Before, when she got halfway through her story, he barely suppressed the urge to wipe his hand across his face in frustration.

He could instantly see where her mind was headed… could easily see how the tale was going to play out from her perspective. Combine that, with his sudden need to leave at the time… he could understand her side and how it all looked.

Still…

It didn't change the fact that she was annoying the shit out of him right now.

"I wasn't talking about you, about us, nor about what we did… when I said that."

She paled, and then… all at once, color blossomed in her cheeks. Why was she so quick to jump to conclusions sometimes?

Because that's the Haruno way.

Well… technically it was more the 'Ishikawa' way (her mother's maiden name, and definitely the correct side of the family to blame for such impulses).

Either way, it was in her blood to act foolishly, and definitely was something she was known for, in her early years. Well, she hadn't quite grown out of it, had she? It certainly was coming to bite her on the ass, in this situation.

"Oh…" She breathed, realization fully dawning on her.

He grasped the bottle and brought it to his lips again.

He wanted to spank her.

Sasuke didn't know where the wayward thought came from, but he couldn't help the overwhelming urge to drag her across his knee and swat her behind, at the incredulous response.

'Oh'? That's all she could say… was 'Oh'?

He drank his beer before he said something stupid.

All this time she had kept her distance because she thought he wasn't interested? He all but screamed (in his own way)… that he was interested, by reaching out… and she…

Finishing the beer, he stood… leaving a few bills on the table. There were some other things he had to take care of tonight, and should go. Even though he was reluctant, he needed to cut this meeting short.

Sakura looked up as he moved; missing the heat she felt when his leg was pressed against her own beneath the table.

Turning to leave he paused, looking at her over his shoulder. She could only freeze, swallowing thickly as she got caught up in his amorous stare.

"Haruno?"

"…Y-yes?"

"You make sure I'm not still… 'blocked', on your fucking phone, got it?"

A few minutes later, Ino found her… in the same spot. The poor pinkette looked as if she'd just seen a ghost or something, and despite the blondes prodding, she didn't say a word.

END CHAPTER

:✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧ B R ✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧:

Next: Chapter Four

#bluerosefanfics #sasusaku #sakusasu #ss fic #ssfic #ssfanfiction #ss fanfiction #br-fanfics #whitewidowfic

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stephicness · 6 years ago

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Once We Were -- Ravus Week, Day 1

Happy @ravus-week, my friendo amigos! :D It’s been awhile since I’ve written, so hopefully I’m not too rusty.

But I also felt like I couldn’t pass up Ravus Week of all things. After all, my boy deserves some love, so golly gosh, I’mma give him more attention! Hopefully, if things go well, you’ll probably get either a drawing or a writing from me as well as a gif/graphic set. SO TIME TO KICK MYSELF INTO GEAR FOR IT!

Until then, enjoy Day One of Ravus Week from me~

Ravus Week, Day 1 Afternoon Tea Rating: G Word Count: 1924 Character Focus: Ravus Nox Fleuret, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret Warnings: None. Just sibling stuff.

Odd… She hadn’t seen Ravus all day. As busy as he was with work, Ravus had an extremely precise and predictable schedule. He woke up just before six in the morning, proceeded to wake up within fifteen to thirty minutes before preparing himself for training – it was quite a meticulous schedule. So much so that – to the dot – she was able to tell that Ravus would and should have been in his study sorting through paperwork while writing disgruntled letters to Chancellor Izunia.

At least, Lunafreya thought that she knew. Her eyes surveyed the study, and alas, there was no sign of him. Not at his desk or on his lounge sofa. He wasn’t even in the storage closet, which lead to quite a few jokes and a hilarious story about how he got locked in there to begin with. But funny stories aside, there wasn’t any sight of Ravus.

Lunafreya hummed to himself in thought, a dainty index finger curled under her chin. “Odd… He never changes things up…”

Her eyebrows furrowed, blue eyes turning towards the white dog at her side. Even the dog seemed as if it was confused by Ravus’s mysterious disappearance, its head tilted aside before it looked up at its master.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, Pryna?”

The dog looked forward again before standing up and beginning to trot away. Oh! Where was Pryna off to? The blonde-haired princess turned toward the study for another quick glance before jogging after the dog.

The manor seemed far bigger without any sight of Ravus taking his two o’clock patrol around with the other soldiers while giving them their usual regiment and plans for the day. Not even the regular guards seemed to be about, only with a few servants passing by to give the manor any sort of life. Were the rest of the Tenebraen royal guard deployed somewhere? Was something wrong? No… If there was something wrong, the staff would be unsettled and whispering with dread. Instead, it was a rather lithe environment. The princess couldn’t help but furrow her eyebrows curiously in thought.

Well, if Ravus wasn’t working, where in the world would he be? It was honestly hard to imagine. This was Ravus after all. Lunafreya stopped in her tracks, causing Pryna to come to a halt and watch its master curiously. If one was to track Ravus, one would have to think like Ravus. And perhaps it was thinking a bit too much like him, but she didn’t really seem phased as she huffed her chest up. Her shoulders pulled themselves back, and her brow furrowed even more into a scowl as terrifying as a puppy’s gaze.

“’What is the meaning of this?’” Her voice was hardly as low and spiteful as Ravus’s voice ever would be, but it was still a humorous attempt that Pryna responded to with by barking excitedly. “’I am not doing work for once! What am I do to with such nuance and wasted time?! Dilly dally, work work work when I have a day off!’”

The babbling Lunafreya did stopped abruptly with one of the steps she took. “’Wait a moment. If I do not have work, then I would wish to relax. And what would I do to relax, my good faithful companion?’”

She looked down at Pryna as the dog twirled around and began bouncing down the corridor.

“’To the garden, Pryna!’”

She dropped the guise only because she didn’t know how anyone could be so physically stiff all the time.

Lunafreya chased after Pryna, coming to the outside courtyard and entrance to the gardens. As if approaching a sacred place, she laced his fingers together as if in a prayer. The gardens were always a lovely place to visit. But if anything, they were surely Ravus’s domain. She had her own favorite places to visit amongst it, but the gardens were perhaps Ravus’s most treasured place. Not even his own bed could provide him with such solace. If she were to see what Ravus was up to, she’d have to at least come up with a good reason for disturbing Ravus on such holy grounds. It was already so rare for him to break from his schedule as is. And if her intuition was correct, then it would mean it would be disrespectful to bother him… Right?

She let out a soft sight before walking into the gardens. All along the shrubs were white roses, adorning and complimenting the grassy patches that the sylleblossoms sprouted from. Various other flowers were found amongst the sea of flowers, but whites and blues dominated the garden as if they were clouds amongst a blue sky. Seas of green all a sign of the beauty and life that grew just outside of where the royal family resided.

And within the beautiful waves of flora was Ravus. Like an elegant marble sculpture, he sat at one of the garden’s picnic tables with his legs crossed and a book splayed in his palm. He was serene and gentle with his expression and posture, simply absorbed into the novel as he absent-mindedly stirred the creamy liquid in the porcelain cup on the table.

Lunafreya couldn’t help but smile at such a sight. This was the first time in years that she’s ever seen him so calm…

“There you are, Ravus.” Ravus turned his gaze upwards from his book and peered at his sister through the thin-framed spectacles he sported. Even if he didn’t jolt, it seemed as if he was too absorbed in his book to have noticed her so easily. The wide eyes showed it. Lunafreya smiled in response as she approached closer. “I was wondering where you were today.”

“Ah… I apologize.” His expression softened as he looked at her. “Did I worry you, Lunafreya?”

“Hm… A little. When I didn’t see you in your study, I grew worried. It’s rare for you to stray from your schedule, Ravus.”

“A change not on my own volition,” he replied bitterly. “Were it my choice, I would have resumed my tasks.”

“But…?” Lunafreya leaned over his shoulder to look at what Ravus was reading, only to make out a brief sentence in it that made her blush and stand upright again. Oh. Private reading.

Ravus sighed and closed his book, taking his glasses off and setting his belongings down on the metal flourishes of the table. He gestured for Lunafreya to take the seat across from him, to which she eagerly abided and sat. “The doctor has claimed that my constant working has been resulting in the infantry ‘suffering with the consequences.’ I do not understand what it was they were insinuating. But to humor them, I abided in their proposal for a day of leisure and relaxation and left General Tummelt to today’s regiment.”

“Ah… So that’s why everyone’s so relaxed today.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing, brother.” Lunafreya smiled at Ravus, glancing down at the tea and pastries sitting on the table before she tilted his head at him. “It’s nice though… To see you look so calm today. And to see you at all, really.”

Ravus arched an eyebrow and asked, “What do you mean by that? I live in the palace, just as you.”

“I know you do, but I rarely get to see you in general.” Lunafreya’s expression was soft, but there was a sad look in her eyes as she curled her hands together towards her chest. “You and I have travelled different paths – this I know for certain. But even so, I still miss being able to see you. Even something as mundane and trivial as greeting you for breakfast is something that I have missed from you, brother.”

Lunafreya’s expression seemed to shift to one of surprise as she bowed her head towards her brother. She was supposed to be grateful for all that Ravus was doing to protect her and those of Tenebrae. All the sacrifices he’s had to make for the good of everyone shouldn’t be overlooked all because Lunafreya missed her brother. He had his duties, just as she had her own. It wasn’t her place to complain and demand for his attention. They would always be family, regardless of how often they spoke with one another. That should be all that she should ask for.

“I’m sorry, Lunafreya.”

The princess looked up, having been beaten to an apology as she watched Ravus rise from his place. Was he going to leave? Oh no… She probably ruined his relaxation. She hesitated as she looked up at him. And yet, instead of a harsh glare he often displayed, it was a soft and sincere expression as he knelt before her. He held her hands as if caressing glass, fragile and dainty, as she returned his hold, feeling the callouses from his slender fingers brush over the back of her hands. A comforting gesture that Ravus always did whenever he knew Lunafreya was upset. It always was easy for him to tell, after all.

“Why are you apologizing, Ravus? It-“

“Do not say it is your fault or that you are being selfish.” Lunafreya had to avert her gaze. Ravus, however, only spoke kind words as he shook her hands. Just enough to bring her blue pools back to sight. “I know how hard it has been for Tenebrae – for us – as we find ourselves in hard times. But no matter how the hardships affect us or how the grief and loneliness feel overwhelming, you may always look to me for a remedy. Do I make myself clear?”

Lunafreya nodded in response, just as a small smile pressed itself past Ravus’s stoic demeanor. He brought the princess’s knuckles up to his lips, placing a comforting kiss on top of them as he gave her hands another squeeze. “I do what I can to protect you and make you happy, Lunafreya. But if ever should you need me, even to simply say hello, I will return to your side to protect you.”

“I know, Ravus,” she replied as a smile returned itself to Ravus. “It’s just that you do all that you can, so I don’t wish to bother you.”

“Rather you bother me than the chancellor.”

Lunafreya couldn’t help but laugh at such a curt statement, causing Ravus to chuckle as if it were contagious. “Well, I suppose I can’t argue with that…” She grinned and shook Ravus’s hands. “Then, since you’re trying to defy your doctor’s expectations on your ‘forced leave,’ would you like to share some cake with me back at the palace? We can get your more tea, since I imagine this has gone cold.”

“Has it?” He looked down at the tea pot. “I was too absorbed in my book, it seemed.”

“That interesting of a book?”

Ravus had to look away. “It was something the commodore suggested to me. I wasn’t anticipating it to be this…”

“Provocative?”

“Smutty.”

Lunafreya laughed again, letting go of Ravus’s hands so she could rise to her feet. She began to make her way towards the courtyard, but not without snatching the book from the table and grinning at Ravus. “Perhaps I should read it afterwards then, since you seemed so absorbed in such a tale.”

“You absolutely shall not, Lunafreya!” Ravus’s face reddened as he quickly stood up and chased afterwards. “Return to me the book at once!”

She felt like a child again as she laughed and ran from her brother. “You’ll have to catch me first!”

#ravus week #stephic writings #final fantasy xv #ffxv #ravus nox fleuret #ravus #lunafreya nox fleuret #lunafreya #fanfiction

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