#although I am itching to figure out what I want to do with the soul eater au
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kingofanemptyworld · 5 months ago
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getting myself Organized over here
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jenyifer · 1 year ago
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I’ve finished all 7 eps of Shadow.
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It itches my brain in just the right spot. I’m constantly surprised by things which is always a bonus. It’s not super gorey but it is haunting I think is the best term for it. I talked about it in my previous post but it feels like the audience doesn’t quite know how to trust reality on the screen as well which makes your brain kind of bend over backwards trying to figure out what’s going on. I’m gonna talk more about this after the cut just incase.
So… let me get relationships worked out here… we have a love pentagram of sorts. Nai likes Dan who is liked by Cha aim who is liked by Josh. Meanwhile Dan is getting it on with “shadow” who may or may not or is sometimes Trin? Outside of that we have the probable relations btw Trin and Joe also maybe brother and Dan’s mom. The only action we have seen is Ms Yada and Anan. If you don’t count the shadow/dan pairing which….. it’s happen twice folks.
Whew that’s…. A lot. So the shadow thing I am not convinced it’s all the time Trin because the shadow started appearing after Dan’s mother died. Dan seems to be able to enter an inbetween realm almost and have his mind led about by spirits. Confirmed ones being Dan’s Dad, the one armed man, and Trin possibly Dan’s mother? It’s like Dan is a lightning rod for ghosts with unfair deaths with unfinished business. But why that would involve one of them pleasuring dan twice I have no idea. Can’t be that productive. Nai can also see spirits but he didn’t see one in the infirmary when he came in… so it feels like this spirits are attracted to dan. If I had to guess maybe Brother is experimenting on kids to try to put a soul into a living body. Idk why he’d be so insistent on being the only person who treats Dan and Trin. Maybe Dan really is the replacement although seems like the long con.
Anyways I can’t wait to see more I do like Josh and Cha Aim they are pretty cute side characters. I wish we got to see more of Nai not pining for Dan. I’m pretty sure Anan is a red herring. He’s being set up for something maybe it is brother pulling the strings and he wants an excuse to expose Yada. I want more Trin. He’s my favorite. Of course.
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captainkurosolaire · 2 years ago
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~ Update ~
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When the heart yearns does it ever burn. It’s most certainly back, after nearly a year dimming out. Last year I put everything I had into punching holes through my limits and barriers.I am without mistaken proud of what I accomplished and the tribute I laid out that I wholeheartedly dealt. But of course. That’s never enough for me. I still feel as I’ve only put scratches of what I’m capable to do-- no, what I want to do. With that being said I’ll be back soon in full might, undoubtedly with another consistent flood-wave of flowing content and ink to canvases, soul sweating every fiber I got to unlock and breathe again. Cause it’s only when I’m truly back to creating, do I breakout and feel oh so alive! It’s a ventilation and my own personal oxygen supply that nulls any health issue, disease and as it’s tried for over a decade now to try redefining my approach to live. It’s been unsuccessful in taking me out for the long haul. I will go further in details of what has transpired in my absence gone below the cut. But a month is my goal date. I’ve already began lining up some content and I definitely have some swelling ideas but I am taking a new charge in this upcoming voyage so I can be with all intent more longevity my fully functional state. Cheers until then hearties.
Awhile ago, I wrote a piece about how doubt can poison us and ground. With that said the manifestation was festering me. Wasn’t certain If I’d ever be able to get drawn or motivated enough to trigger that awakening I held that same energy, drive, heart and determination I unleashed the after-mention year. That’s most likely a scenario occurs a lot after a stellar year in any sort of thing many factors, fear for future events, uncertainty if a prime was hit. Although I can’t deny the creeping shadows of that engulfing can’t be an issue. Things beyond control putting effort in that it’s much more damaging. And I honestly don’t feel that is a web of truth for me. As I stated, know there’s more to grow in me. That haven’t properly been nurtured yet is all. The season hasn’t dried away all the cold, it’s all still fresh. Sometimes changing fighting stances results in better yields, and I think mentally there’s guard changes, stand swaps in those too. I no longer think on what dwells. Instead there’s a starving in my belly and itch that needs a fill and relieve. A viscous passion consumes me and I’m taking it to pampering it up nice and taking it to prom and we’ll see where that night gets me. Envisioned many arcs and sagas so much unfilled but I was always daunted with the notion that it had a standard I needed to commit. Not just for the sake of others but for my own personal, self-improvement. Perfection isn’t my cup. I’ve got my damages, the trauma and a plethora of flaws. They make up me and give me abundance of ideas, to twist and warp something authentic and throw it into fantasy. I have rode out the physical and mental rehabilitation and it’s an exhausting card every time. It’s a grueling tradition at this point. But the only weakness isn’t giving it all out and launching yourself to get an extra step, pushing it to get a sprint out again before anything catastrophic hit. Turned into a very ghostly figure, closed in and put myself in a box, unable to confront or muster any more energy to give to the people that matter or the closest to me and there’s never an easy way to leave things like that, can make others ponder if they did stuff wrong or blame themselves, however isn’t a -them- issue. Isn’t even something personally another did just an old vehicle with some shitty mileage rates, the gas tank leaks, the entire motor is shot and barely worthy of getting to a trusted destination. But when the ignition works, it purrs with a classic thrill. That’s a lot how as a system I operate. I’m a doomed situation to repair, the price runs beyond the budget. But I’m get a destination out more than ever expected and fill that ride with memories and songs to last until I work again. This time, I get my motor running early for a change, spend an entire month, challenge myself to put stuff to paper. Build up the entire thing and stockpile, then whatever I have, I unleash in whatever state of quality when I return. Then while that occurs, I take myself and do the sightseeing, do the things I’ve wanted. Return and be more proactive about attending events, try stirring up some threads, and things I always wanted too. But be uninterrupted by all the deterrence or feeling like I need to puncture something forcefully in. Let things hit me and still go, then start stockpiling in the background and continue the pace, staying a whole ten miles ahead. Try making this joy ride last as long as possible, surpassing all that stuff I did before. Giving myself a month of wiggle room to fuel up. For now got Budokai 3 a showdown with some unique astrology and lore-twisting usages to make a deathmatch out. Just need to polish that up and I’ll have that done. But that water doesn’t end I got some skit ideas, some concepts I never once had in my head for years that came organically that’ll follow the aftermath of the results of that gruesome battle, that’ll be even more in-depth filling, I got that a lot from the last XIV Challenge. Then if I can get to it, I have a major arc with a very ambitious idea. Try getting a whole crew vs crew showdown going into something. There’s a literal ‘giant’ undertaking I want this year and a whole War/Saga point that’ll just endlessly and abundantly unlock so much stuff and I want that initial thing at the very least. I said and set that last year and nothing has changed. If anything I’ve got a chip on my shoulder to get to it fairly. But if anyone out there ever want to chat on here or discord or something about OC or story stuff, or plot ideas, pre-establish stuff, or intrigue in joining Crew and huge arc or anything I’m going to do my best to be even more accommodating. - Try upping my gif and screen-set stuff, cosplay things too when I get myself in the forefront of this. Stay worldly ye treasures.
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juletheghoul · 3 years ago
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Oblivius Chapter 9
It hurt to write this but it needed to be said. I love these dummies and I'm glad you all love them too. Love hearing from all of you - dms/asks are always open!
Likes & reblogs are appreciated
Frankie Morales x F!Reader
Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: angst, language (let me know if I missed anything)
Masterlist Series Masterlist Prev Part Playlist
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Can your brain be at war with itself? When he considered his feelings he found that it could. Her declaration was a balm, the missing piece of the puzzle. A cavern within his soul that had been empty for far too long and desperately needed filling. The other side was pure rage. A hurt so deep and intertwined with the anger that it burned him.
It swam through him with an ardour that was palpable, sweating out of his pores and puffing out with every exhale.
Maybe that same cruel, hurt part of him wanted to make her wait, see if there was truth in her honeyed words.
I’ve waited for you half my life, Spills; let’s see how long you can wait for me.
The thought would always shame him in its cruelty. A spiteful little dig at her that he imagined would sooth the hurt he felt but it never did. Just made him feel worse. It was strange to him that the one thing he’d wanted for as long as he’d known her would be to hear those words. I love you too Francis, and the first time they’d almost knocked him over. Even seeing them written out in her message had taken the breath from his lungs for a second, but it wasn’t enough. There were so many things he needed to get off his chest.
One week turned into three, and after a month he’d had enough.
---
His nerves were shot as he made his way over to her place, his guts twisting up with anticipation and when she opened the door his heart was racing. He had so much to say, so much to get off his chest and when he saw her his first instinct was to kiss her. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and take her to bed, bury all his frustrations into her body but he couldn’t go down that road. It took every ounce of self control to deny her embrace.
“Please Spills, don’t - please don’t, if I hug you now I won’t stop there and I’ll lose my resolve. Please - we need to talk first.” He held his hands up to forestall her advances and the hurt look on her face almost broke him. There was too much to say.
——
Seeing him at your door, deep frown on his face and unwilling to even come close was like a punch to the gut. He was here, finally, after everything that had happened and his absence he was finally within reach. Or at least that’s what you thought at first, seeing him now it was clear that although he was here physically, he was somewhere far away emotionally.
The euphoria you’d felt at finally hearing from him, the text he’d sent asking if he could come over was now replaced with a nervous fear. Was he here to tell you he didn’t want you?
No, this is Francis, my Francis and things will work out. Please let things work out.
He made his way through awkwardly, a far cry from the confident Francis who brought you food for your hangover. It made you uncomfortable, made you nauseous - a swarm of flies buzzing in your stomach.
“Did you want something to drink?” It felt so foreign coming out of your mouth, you’d never had to ask him before. If he wanted something he’d usually just help himself.
“No thanks.” He sat on your couch and you came to sit beside him, careful to keep your distance and when you were both facing each other he sighed loudly. His eyes were focused on you but they were sadder than you’d ever seen.
“I was supposed to be married.” He came right out with it.
“I know.” It was all you could say. It was hard not to wring your hands, the anxiety was running rampant.
“Right now, I’m guessing Claudia and I would be arguing over where to live - on our way home from our honeymoon.” He sighed loudly. “She ended up going anyway.”
He was staring at you and you couldn’t really describe the expression. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t fear or distrust. “Spills, what am I supposed to think? I know that you’ve always known how I felt about you.” He was trying not to get too agitated, trying so hard to reign in his feelings and you couldn’t argue, all you could do was sit and let him get it off his chest.
“It’s so hard for me not to think that this is all a ploy you concocted to keep me for yourself. Never actually wanting me, but not letting anyone else have me. Please - tell me I’m wrong.”
You chewed over his words, as much as they hurt - you couldn’t blame him for thinking these things. Your timing had been abysmal.
“I know Francis. I know why you’d think that and if the roles had been reversed I’d probably be thinking the same thing but you have to know it’s not like that. You have to know how I feel about you, how I’ve always felt about you.” You wanted to reach over and touch him, maybe if you could just hold his hand, run your fingers through his hair - he’d be able to feel what you felt. Transfer it onto his skin somehow but you couldn’t yet. He was still too raw and it would make him angry. Would see it as another ploy to entrap him.
“How? How would I know that? How could I possibly see this as anything other than manipulation? Your timing is bullshit.” You saw it then, the look on his face was anguish.
“Do you have any idea how much I worked to convince myself that this would never happen?” He was gesturing to the two of you. “How hard it was to be so far away from you, and hear that you were just happy to be with someone else? How fucking hurtful it was for you to suggest that I be your last resort in case you were single at thirty? What am I supposed to think?”
His emotions were getting the best of him now and you saw his eyes shining. He was so angry, and you deserved this. “Claudia was there when you didn’t want me Spills. We may have fought, and disagreed on things but she wanted me from the get-go. It didn’t take her fifteen years to admit that she might feel the same way about me that I felt about her.”
“Francis I-”
“No. Let me finish- please. Let me say everything I need to say because it’s eating me up inside and I won’t be able to look at you if I keep it in another second. I need you to understand that although I love you - with everything that I am, I was ready to let you go for someone else. I had a life planned with that someone and that just a whisper of you possibly feeling even a fraction of what I’ve felt for you all this time, fucked me up. I threw it all away, I ruined my wedding. I did something I never thought I’d ever do - I betrayed her.” The tears were rolling down his face, he couldn’t stop them and your body burned to console him. Your hands itched to wipe them away and you had to take a deep breath to steady yourself.
“I am so angry, Spills.” His voice was cracking and he couldn’t look at you, he was hunched over, elbows braced on his knees as he held his face in his hands. “I’m so angry and I want to forgive you and just ignore all these feelings and love you, take you to bed and show you how much I’ve wanted you but I can’t right now.” Your eyes were burning, a painful lump burning in the back of your throat.
Am I too late? Please Francis, please look at me.
“Francis, please - I know you’re angry, and I know I hurt you, but you know in your heart that I love you. Please look at me, please - we can fix this.” You tentatively scooted closer and he looked up at you. Big brown eyes sparkling with tears over the hurt you’d caused.
For a moment you saw him much younger. You saw the sweet, beautiful boy you rejected staring back at you and you couldn’t help but touch him. Softly putting your hand on his shoulder, feeling it tremble beneath your palm and he slowly shifted towards you. That was all you needed. You pulled him to you, letting him crush you in his embrace.
“I’m sorry Francis, I love you and I’ll wait as long as you need me to wait. Please don’t push me away.” His face was pressed into the crook of your neck and you could feel his anger and his sadness as he held you close. You were rubbing his back and scratching at his scalp, trying to soothe him as best you could while whispering your feelings. Everything - anything that would convince him that you were on his level.
“Let’s start slow, and figure this out together. I shouldn’t have waited so long and I shouldn’t have denied my feelings for you. You’ve always been the one for me and I should never have made that stupid pact with you. I should have kissed you back. I’m sorry, I love you, believe me - please.” You were holding onto him tightly, pulling him to lay on you on your couch; he was wrapped up in the space you made for him.
“I want to, god I really want to Spills, you’re the love of my fucking life and I need you.” He was squeezing you tightly and you couldn’t help but pepper his face with kisses, little kisses between I love yous, your lips stained with the salt from his tears and you saw the deep breaths he took with every declaration.
“Keep telling me, please just keep telling me.” His eyes were closed, his words were whisper soft.
“I love you Francis, I love you.” You must have told him half a hundred times and you’d keep going until he believed you.
---
You both lay there for a long time, quietly soaking in each other's warmth, he’d kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable with you underneath him. His weight was reassuring and you pulled his shirt up slightly to rub the warm skin of his back.
All of the time wasted apart was devastating, you could almost see it then. The alternate timeline of your lives together. Maybe you’d have gotten married before he left. Maybe you’d have a couple of kids by now. A house. A dog.
“I don’t want to be, but I’m still hurt and upset." He sighed.
"I believe you, and I love you, but I think we should take things slow.” He pulled you out of your reverie, lifting up off you as he spoke. You missed his warmth instantly but he pulled you up with him and sat back on your sofa, tucking you into his side.
“I’m okay with that. Slow is good.” You kissed his cheek as he rubbed your back.
“I should go.” He was reluctantly getting up and for half a heart-beat you held onto him, he gave you a little smile. “If I stay, I’ll never leave. Slow, right?” He was putting his shoes back on and walking towards your door and everything in you wanted to beg him to stay but you knew he was right. If you’d jumped into something right now without giving him a chance to heal and come to terms with his choices he would hate you.
“Francis?” He turned towards you. “Will you take me out on a date?” You wiggled your eyebrows in the way you knew had always made him laugh, and he couldn’t help but smile.
“I’d like that.” He kissed your cheek, just barely grazing the side of your mouth and he was gone. Leaving you with your heart, and skin burning for him.
We can go as slow as you like.
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mlmreaderfics · 4 years ago
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You Look Quite Divine Tonight (Cthulhu x Lighthouse Keeper!Male Reader)
The years have not been kind to you.
You are grizzled, old, scarred from your face to your heart, and tired. Your hair has gone white from age, along with your beard, and wrinkles break up the symmetry of your sandpaper skin. Your voice constantly aches and itches from yelling and overuse, though you appreciate the light Scottish accent you allegedly have. It makes you seem tougher than you actually are. There are callouses and blisters on your fingers, palms, feet from work. For work on the sea is anything but easy.
The sea has not been kind to you.
On occasion you find yourself with a strange, salty taste in your mouth. You used to know whether it was the ocean or your own tears. Your eyelashes freeze, yet you feel the most comfortable in the cold, or at least that’s what you’re telling yourself. You are very tired. Ever since hitting your ripe age of “too old to go to sea, but too young to retire properly” you took the toll of a lighthouse keeper. When you got here, it was supposed to be six weeks, with a young, scrappy helper that reminded you of yourself. Instead, he hung himself from the rope while he was supposed to be repainting the blistering white tower. Maybe he hated you. It wouldn’t surprise you, although it’s the first time anybody has taken their own life just to get away from you. You didn’t know him, yet you feel immense sorrow. Perhaps you were being too parental. You do tend to get attached.
The world has not been kind to you.
You never really knew your mother, she left before you were ten, and your father was colder than the ocean himself. Yes, you tend to refer to inanimate objects as “him,” but those rich men call their boats “her,” so who are they to judge? Though, perhaps it is because they see you as a predator, an animal itching to get its hands on any man it can find. But that’s not what you want. What you do want, you’re not sure, but it wouldn’t be just any man, and it wouldn’t be just for sex, throwing yourself around dark alleyways like a London whore. Though, you are just as tired as they are. It was supposed to be six weeks.
You have resided here, alone and without rescue, for a year. You think.
Thankfully, you have enough food to last you another six months. There’s been no ship to come rescue you from this rock, perhaps they no longer have a need for lighthouses. Maybe those children with their inventions figured out how to navigate the sea blindfolded, backwards, and in the dark. but they wouldn’t just leave you here, right?
You decide not to think about it. Thankfully, you have a very worthwhile distraction.
Whilst searching through the house, you notice one of the floorboards sounds off when you step on it. It takes you about five minutes to crouch down to the floor, but in the end, it’s worth it. You knock on the floor. Sounds like normal. You move your scarred fist to the left, three raps following. Also normal. Left once more.
There it is. The knock is echoed slightly, the wood hollow underneath.
It takes you ten minutes to get up off the floor, but thankfully you have a newfound adrenaline. You hobble over to the toolshed outside.
You make a point of not looking to your right, knowing you will find some of the grisly remains of your crew-mate, your excitement giving you tunnel vision to the crowbar. You rush back and bend over, your back loudly protesting as you attempt to pry back the floorboard. One push. Then two. Then three.
With a loud crack, the board splinters away, revealing a small hole with a book inside. It appears to be a journal.
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Though you eat dinner that night, your health is the furthest thing on your mind as you theorize what the book could be. A book of spells? A tale as old as time itself? Maybe just pretty pictures? Whatever it is, the fact that new information is occupying your head is enough.
When you finally get a chance to sit down and begin to read, you notice an important sentence on the front page:
“This journal belongs to: Gustaf Johansen.”
Well, whoever this Gustaf character is, you are sure to be fascinated by him!
————————————————————————————
January 12, 1792.
Today marks my first day on the sea. While I do admit that I may come down with a minor sickness, I still have faith in my comrades to help me, as I shall help them.
———————————————————————————
You scan the pages, word by word. It details six months of a life at sea, similar to yours. Gustaf is (allegedly) described by his friends as “a man with strength and beauty to rival Thor himself.” Though you doubt that description, you can’t help but entertain the handsome image.
He’s holding your hand, rubbing his thumb on the back of it. Smiling, he nestles his head between your head and shoulder.
You shake your head. It’s ridiculous, no one is coming to save you.
_________________
April 20, 1792.
I have been having frequent dreams of a place I have yet never seen. I find myself under the ocean surface, far from dry land. And yet, in the murky waters, I see a glowing, beautiful city.
——————-
That night, you have the same dream.
You don’t think anything of it.
You continue to read.
_____________________
May 2, 1792.
The dream has come again, but now I hear a chorus of people. Or perhaps, not people, but simply voices. They speak in a language I do not recognize, yet still understand. They speak of the coming of a god, a Great Old One.
They call this being Cthulhu.
—————
Underneath the entry,  a sentence, phrase, or paragraph in an unknown language, presumably the one from the dreams, is written. It is a terrible mess of consonants and apostrophes. Though, it is still somewhat readable. Your pronunciation is messy, but you get through it.
Mggoka'ai ya, throdog gn'th
nog, uh'eog ot shugg
Y' nogephaii
nogephaii l' ya, gn'bthnknyth
nogephaii l' ya, orr'e
nogephaii l' ya, cthulhu
You finish the final syllable. Nothing happens.
In a burst of anger, you grab a flare from the supplies closet and walk out into the night.
Standing on the beach, you light the flare, waving it around. The sky is black, not a star in sight. “Please, help me!” you cry. “Please, anybody! I’m right here!” Tears burn your eyes and run down your cheeks. You muster all the strength in your lungs.
“I’M RIGHT HEREEE!!!”
With the final syllable, the ground shakes. Did somebody finally hear you? Are they coming to help you, after a lifetime of isolation?
It shakes again, your take a few steps to regain you balance.
Again. Your knees wobble.
Again. You fall, and a great deal of pain does not fill your body. In fact, you feel a great sense of rejuvenation in your bones.
Again. You manage to get up, seeing bubbles on the ocean surface.
Slowly, a mixture of flesh and scales emerges from the sea. Two sets of burning red eyes lie below. A strange beard of tentacles. A hugely muscled body with miles-wide wings. And when he speaks, you feel it in your chest.
“I do not recognize you, my beloved.”
You stare in fear, the flare still belching smoke.
“Lovely mortal, fear not. My beloved, Gustaf, had the most beautiful soul.”
The tentacles on his face gently wrap around you and lift you up. You find yourself between his eyes.
“You have that same soul deep within you.”
You begin to cry once more. The tentacles are surprisingly not as freezing as you thought they would. Instead, they fill your body with loving warmth.
“I-I apologize.” You say. “I have not been held like this since…”
You look back on your life, quickly.
“No one has ever held me like this,” you admit. Your voice is small, lost, broken.
“Then I am honored to be the first.”
His centuries-deep voice is filled with love. He speaks your name softly.
“Wouldst thou like to experience the pleasure of a god?”
“Yes,” you whisper desperately. You quickly unbutton your shirt, but the tentacles take care of your clothes for you. He laughs like rolling thunder.
He devours you, body and soul.
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ahlis-xiv · 4 years ago
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journal 50.4
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G’raha sat alone, semi-hunched over a piece of parchment as he worked. Although he did not show it, the drafting he ambitiously began was nothing short of a place between fascinating and downright tediousness. The solution to tempering that nestled within his mind and finding a proper way to convey it into some sort of physicality that others could understand took time and a level of focus that brought him back to his Studium days.
He did not mind the effort, really, yet part of him couldn’t help but feel he could be applying himself to something else...namely figuring out why his dear friend decided to depart in such a hurry without so much as a word.
G’raha sighed, and scratched out part of the formulae he attempted to use as a proper proof. It wasn’t correct or, rather, not good enough, and he knew it: it almost felt like he had to somehow invent a whole new notation and he was second guessing every attempt. That, he knew, was as strong a sign as any that he needed a break.
Abandoning his work for the more welcoming sight above Mor Dhona proper, he took to his usual perch and leaned over the ledge to watch the activity below. Ever since he arrived there—since waking up, really—G’raha found the habit of people-watching a welcome one when it came to clearing his head. It had also been an old habit as well from his time as the Exarch. It was difficult at times to not be reminded of it when he went there to be alone--not that it troubled him, but rather his thoughts inevitably wandered to those he had to let go. To old friends and, naturally, to her.
What would Lyna think, he wondered. Of everything? Despite assurances, both given and told to own self, he knew it was a question not quite answerable. He was unfettered, free—free to live the life he wished. A second chance. Yet something gnawed away at his heart that only grew in the wake of what occurred in Ala Mhigo. And the Warrior of Light was nowhere in sight.
He didn’t wish to admit it, but that this point most of all prickled his thoughts. She had been wounded in the confrontation: not severely but enough to warrant considerable healing, namely for her arms. She berated herself for not properly handling the situation, that it was foolish to not deal with Fandaniel and his summoning there and then somehow. When the dust settled with wounds seen to and mended, she slipped away and out of his reach.
G’raha’s hands clasped together in front of him, fretting as his anxiety swelled. Ahlis said many things in the aftermath at the menagerie; much of which he knew was said in a fury he rarely witnessed. He also knew he ought to not dwell on it, as it was not directed towards him—but it felt personal, watching the anger and the walls that suddenly erected around her, forbidding his approach. Surely she knew, she must’ve known that he cared—that they all cared? G’raha understood what it meant to seek solace, to lick one’s wounds after a poor bout in battle, yet to shut him out? Why?
He huffed a frustrated growl, and pouted to himself. This is not about you, G’raha, his more sensible self spoke in his mind. It did little to help when he knew naught what to do with his...feelings, with no soul to utter them to. For the moment, all he had in certainty, was himself.
Looking above to the darkening sky, stars were beginning to sparkle in the deep blue, the gloom weak and unable to hinder their shine. He hoped that wherever Ahlis was, and however she felt, that her safety was sure and her healing swift.
---
Ahlis suddenly grasped the pillow within her bare arms as a sneeze escaped her nose and immediately regretted it.
“Bless you, dearest,” Aymeric spoke above her, his hands gently working her back’s aches and pains into a soothing massage.
“Augh, no,” she said, voice muffled by soft cotton where she shoved her face into it. The great debate of whether she should lift her head up or not kept her in place, lest she reveal a potentially not-so-graceful mess. “I think I ruined it.”
Wordlessly and only with a soft chuckle of amusement Aymeric rose to retrieve a handkerchief as if reading her mind in her current discomfort. When he returned Ahlis was already sitting up, the pillow still pressed to her face. He did not know how to assure her that there were far worse things that could ruin one’s bedding, but seeing the flushed look upon her face while she cleaned herself as discretely as possible encouraged him to say nothing.
“Are you feeling better?” Aymeric asked, once she seemed satisfied to show herself, the pillow and handkerchief no longer covering her face.
“Yes, thank you,” Ahlis spoke, relief entering her voice. “I am sorry, about this, though.” Her hands still held onto the pillow until he reached for it himself, lightly tossing it aside and back onto the bed.
“It is of no consequence. My home is yours, including the aforementioned pillow.”
That made Ahlis laugh, as he hoped it would, and Aymeric took this moment to join her again, sitting side by side upon the edge of the bed. It was useless however to ignore the wrappings around both her palms and forearms, both of which had been kept out of sight when lying on her stomach. Catching his glancing eyes, Ahlis took that moment to adjust her bandages.
“The pain is mostly gone. Now it’s just itching,” she spoke, more annoyed than in any sort of true discomfort. “New skin takes some getting used to and breaking in, imagine that.”
“May I see it?” Aymeric asked after a moment’s pause, his voice careful in its near-whisper like intensity.
For a second, she hesitated. Unraveling them didn’t hurt much anymore, so when she did reveal the newly healed burns that rested beneath she didn’t hold back in extending her arm in front of him. If only her heart that thumped heavily in her chest agreed! Nerves, however troublesome they proved to be, would do little in assuaging his concern.
“There you are,” Ahlis said with an exuberance she hoped sounded sure and confident. “It’s not so terrible now, aye?”
It was not her intent to fool him, rather, it was better than the ire she felt deep within at how it happened, and better still than to appear caught off-guard or foolish to have been struck at all by such an injury. It had been a mistake, one that could’ve gone even more horribly wrong in an instant if not for…
“Oh, Ahlis...”
Her thoughts stopped, everything stopped. She was helpless as she watched the shock that touched his eyes turn to despair, to pain that flowed into the tenderness that came with his touch as he cradled her wrist to his cheek. There was a knot of scarred tissue just below where his lips met her skin; the first kiss was given there, then another just above it towards her palm.
Such sensations, intensified against her freshly healed wounds, rendered her voice frozen within her throat. It was almost too much; she released a heavy, shaky breath that gave him pause, and Aymeric turned to look upon her so intensely, so painfully, she dared think she might cry herself.
“It’s fine,” she found herself saying, finally, unsure if it truly was after all.
---
Later, long after they had gone to bed, she would wake to see the stars out in the beyond just outside the window, the silhouette of spires cutting across the dark. A rare, clear night in the city. Gripped by the sight, she stole herself away to find a place to write...
Evenings have proven to be the best, and only time, to write clear-headed these days. As if I do not need sleep.
The itching has finally subsided enough to carry on without thinking about it and now I can finally sit for half a bell to write while at the same time not wishing to scratch my skin off. I’ve had lacerations, all manners of bruising and concussive injuries. I’ve even been shot at! But note to self: never get fucking burned like that again.
I’m going to kill that bastard with his own medicine, and I will enjoy it
[there is a drawing here of a figure in a robe with a sword skewering it all the way through, who is also on fire]
The healing has progressed as it will, and I trust Krile and Alphinaud’s hands more than any other—although granted my sourness over it all could have been a little less scathing, I guess.
But what can I say, a lot of bullshite has been happening these days. I’m getting a mite bit enraged that these Ascian arseholes aren’t leaving me alone, and yet I am not entirely surprised. It’s not over until it is over.
gods when will that be never ah ha ha ha
In the meantime I have made good on my own promises to make my own self comfortable as best I can, heal as best I am able, and spending what time I can in Ishgard. The others are probably wondering when I’ll return to the Stones but until G’raha outlines our approach on implementing proper protocol on the tempering solution I honestly don’t want to hear about anything else. Alisaie should be helping, I am sure, as is Alphinaud too I think. It’ll be fine! And fast too.
I mean I would help more too but I don’t have a crazy as all hells academic background as they do seven hells I’d love me a curriculum found in the Studium within those stupid halls and their even stupider “zero involvement” stance on bloody everything
share your goddamn science you twits
I am far more tired than I thought. But! I am also finally able to think about the impending reconnaissance we’re bound to have soon once Thancred and Urianger return.
if something happens with them I swear to ever loving shite I am going to boot them back to the First with my fist
Without my Stupid! Arms! Annoying me!
OH is that little
[the writing stops here with an ink blot, as if the pen was dropped and left there, the smeared and distinct shape of a cat’s paw crossing part of the page]
32 notes · View notes
idontblushsrry · 4 years ago
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Inuyasha Characters As Roomates
In honor of yashahime’s release i’ve decided to post this for no real reason.Can you tell who my bias is lmao. Lmk if I should do a Part 2 with the people I missed. Also I apologize I haven’t updated in like a year I have a post addressing this coming up soon. Thank you for your continued support despite the fact that I’ve been updating infrequently, I really appreciate it. Without further ado:
Warnings: Some swear words oop
Word Count: 1632
Inuyasha
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You want Inuyasha as your roommate???Chile anyways...
No but fr tho in general Inuyasha isn’t an awful roommate, he pays his bills on time(ususally), doesn’t make too big of a mess but that’s just because he owns like 3 things and 2 outfits.
No, the real problem with Inuyasha is that he is LOUD
You walk outside to throw the trash away and he’s in his room screaming about a video game or something and the WHOLE neighborhood can hear him. 
People pokin they head out in concern and everything
Another time he was watching a horror movie and you guess the characters did something stupid because you hear a scream from the character and then Inuyasha screaming “WHAT THE FUCK, WHY WOULD YOU GO THAT WAY DUMBASS! THAT’S WHY YOU’RE DEAD NOW!”
Shit woke you up out of your sleep
After that incident you knew you’d have to ask him to be a bit more considerate of your eardrums.
So, you ask him to quiet down and he pouts like a child and huffs and puffs.
He does quiet down tho...for about 2 minutes until he stubs his toe on the end of the couch
God bless you and your patience but god bless his girlfriend Kagome
She’s a saint
If it were up to Inuyasha your groceries would consist of a cabinet of ramen like the man has the budget for ramen and paying his share of he bills why would he spend money on things like fruit???
This is where Kagome comes in, she comes by pretty regularly and she brings food or groceries because she of all people knows how terrible Inuyasha’s shopping habits are.
Bless her soul truly and every time she does this you thank her lmaoo
Inuyasha eventually does move out with Kagome but he does apologize for being loud before he leaves, you aren’t sure if he did that on his own or if Kagome made him do that
Kagome
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She’s so sweet
Fair share of chores, groceries, she cooks for yall sometimes, truly a saint
Only 2 problems:
Ms. Girl has no moneyyy
Poor Kagome, she always tries to pay her bills on time but between trying to feed Inuyasha, helping out her family, and school the paycheck only spreads so thin(She does eventually quit school to start working more but)
Nothing wrong with this but you do end up having to cover for her sometimes.
She of course thank you and you don’t usually mind and your routine was functional for you two, until you meet problem number 2 
The loudest mf on the planet Earth, her boyfriend, Inuyasha
One day you’re in he kitchen grabbing something to eat and you hear pounding on the door like the police showed up.
You proceed cautiously because...what the fuck and you almost reach the door before you hear 
“I’ll get it!”
You’ve never seen Kagome run faster
She opens the door and you see this 5′5 mf who was banging on the door like he paid the bills
Inuyasha just has rbf but you don't know that so you think he’s making faces at you
Immediately you have a problem with him
“Hey Kagome, who’s this?”
She looks between you two before immediately rushing to introduce you to each other
“Oh, I forgot my purse be right back guys.”, Kagome left not knowing that yall were about 2 seconds from fighting
You didn’t like Inuyasha for banging on the door and glaring and he didn’t like you for glaring at him
After that you just avoided talking to inuyasha for the sake of keeping the peace
When he came over you exited stage left 
Eventually Kagome does move out with Inuyasha and she asks why you and Iuyasha had never spoken to each other
“Are you kidding me the first day we met he was already glaring at me?!”
“Ohhh, that’s just his face, he’s really sweet promise :D”
You doubted that
You liked Kagome as a roommate but you were glad she was moving out so you could find someone who could pay the bills on time.
Sango
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She a baddie ngl
Aside from that, Sango is the perfect roommate
However, I hope you aren’t allergic to cats or Miroku because they’re pretty much a package deal
Also hopefully you don’t hate children because she does have Kohaku to worry about
But she makes pretty good money at her job so expenses aren’t a issue
She also isn’t home too often between her job, taking care of Kohaku and Kirara, and her relationship
She ends up spending more and more time at Miroku’s place anyways
Sango finally moves in with Miroku when she gets pregnant, yall still keep in touch tho because you’ve become good friends
And thus you say goodbye to the best roommate to ever grace this Earth lmao
Miroku
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Miroku is the shortest lasting roommate on this list
Mans is a little creeper pervert and that shit gets annoying after a while
You’ll be walking out the shower and Miroku’s standing there like “hey lil mama lemme whisper in ya ear”
Needless to say you smacked the taste outta his mouth and he stopped with that real quick
He stops but you’re surprised when you see Sango come over 
Your hand starts itching with the urge to slap him again...
You meet Sango and what she sees in him is... baffling, scientists to this day still don’t understand 
Baby girl, you’re Sango do better, self love
Anyways, Miroku moves out eventually and he takes his nasty ass ways with him
Later you find out that Sango moved in with him and sje’s gon have a baby by him
But you know that’s none of your business 
Koga
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If you thought Inuyasha was loud...
Inuyasha doesn’t have any friends, Koga has a wolf pack...
Parties all the time good luck homie
If you were tryna study, sleep, do work, etc. best wishes lmao
You come home and mans got 2 random people over like how ya doin   O-O
“Hello”
“Where’s Koga?”
They point to the kitchen and you head here ready to just “talk” with Koga
He turns around and gives you the cutest smile known to man and you immediately lose your will to argue
Can’t argue with a man that beautiful sorry...
Anyways besides being loud af, Koga is HYPER
Mans is up at 5 am knocking on your door like “hey you wanna jog to the gym”
“No Koga, goodnight”
‘No problem, it’s the morning btw!”
He’s actually a decent roommate and he moves into a bigger house with his friends and calls it the ‘pack house’
He actually invites you to come move in w him and his buddies 
You tell him you’ll think about it
Sesshomaru
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The king of “I’m better than you”
He has his life so well together and you’ve gotta give him props
Mans is basically Caspar the Friendly Ghost of roommates 
Does he actually live here? the lights stay on and his name is on the deed so... I guess
Seriously tho, Sesshomaru doesn’t need a roommate but he does need someone to mind Rin
You might ask, what about Jaken, Jaken is busy (following Sesshomaru) or so he claims
Sesshomaru isn’t too bad honestly he covers the majority of the expenses in exchange for you watching Rin and feeding Ah-Un
So you’re basically Rin’s stay at home nanny
But you don’t mind because she is a SWEETHEART
Ah-Un isn’t too bad, just feed 2 lizards
(Although depending on who you are feeding them bugs might be your worst nightmare)
Jaken and you buttheads all the time, it’s almost comical
The times you interact with him mainly consist of you telling him to leave Rin alone or him telling you something Sesshomaru said
Speaking of Sesshomaru you don’t see him often and the only times you hear from him are in the form of notes he leaves around the house to the degree of ‘I fed Ah-Un this morning’ or ‘Make sure Rin takes her vitamins’ 
The other times you “hear” from him are when Jaken comes by saying things like ‘Lord Sesshomaru has requested that you prepare Rin to go out’
And for a while you were like who tf does he think he is because like yea he pays most of the rent but like he isn’t paying you for this so why does he think he can order you around indirectly
The first time you see Sesshomaru, it’s late and Rin’s been asleep for hours.
You walked into the kitchen and didn’t bother with turning the lights on but then you heard the smallest shuffle and a groan
And the moonlight comes through the window at the perfect angle and it reflects so beautifully off his silver hair
He turs some and you see his face and immediately take back all the times you’ve cussed him out mentally
And the you realize you’re in your pajamas staring at this man you’ve never met before that’s sleeping on the couch. For all you know he could be some random guy who broke in
He looks so peaceful that you loathe to disturb it but you poke at him w a stick and he groans out something to the tune of “Go away Jaken”
“I’m not Jaken”
He immediately sat up and stared at you like he was trying to figure out who you were in his head for a moment 
“Don’t you want to sleep in your room?” you asked him. He stood up and begun to walk towards his room in response 
You just watched him walk away but before he turned the corner into the hallway you swear you heard him say “You should get some sleep too.”
116 notes · View notes
rounove · 4 years ago
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Shyan Fan fic Recommendation
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Anon I want to kiss you right now. I have been waiting for this question for years
Batch 1
*All | orphan_account
Ryan's got an itch only Shane can scratch.
*"Come over here and make me." | aldhafera 
“Shane, stop that this instant!” “Come over here and make me.” In which Ryan fears something followed them home and Shane just wants to give the (definitely non-existent) ghosts a show. 
Por Favor, Sweetheart |  carrieonfighting
Two dorks raise a baby and don't even realise they're doing it together until it's too late Alternatively, Ryan Bergara is Trying His Best Thanks
(This one’s so domestic I think I melted)
the choices we make |  exul
Shane and Ryan find themselves in a world where much is the same, yet everything is different. An apartment that's theirs, but not theirs. Photos of them that were never taken. And most importantly a child, who's somehow theirs, yet they've never seen her before. or Shane and Ryan wake up in a world where they're married and have a baby. 
and then there were two (idiots) |  sessrumnir
Shane kisses Ryan by accident one day. A week later they are still trying to process what happened. 
*Body Farming |  shiphitsthefan
Failed suppressants and a surprise heat: the worst of cliches, and here Ryan stands, living the trope on location with the alpha he’s hopelessly in love with. Even worse, they’re spending the night in the famous Bell Witch Cave, completely alone and with no way to contact the outside world.
Ryan knows he can survive and keep his preheat a secret, as long as Shane will stop being so protective and concerned. After all, it’s not like Shane wants to bond with him.
Right?
*breathe out so i can breathe you in |  trxshmxuth
They've been tiptoeing around each other for months now, walking on ice so thin that Ryan can practically see the sexual tension swirling and raging underneath. Ryan's almost afraid that when the ice finally cracks, he's not going to be able to resurface again.On their next Unsolved investigation, the ice breaks.
eventually, the darkness stares back |  EAST (WESTAGE)
Shane realizes he likes Ryan exactly the way he is: alive. 
Four Down, One to Go |  sunshinewinchesters
Ryan is sick and Shane is having a really shitty week. 
*Hold Your Breath, It Gets Better |  beethechange
Ryan stops short in the doorway of his bedroom, banging his shoulder against the doorframe in his haste, because he’s too late. Shane’s kneeling in front of the bottom drawer of his bedside table, peering down at the contents, hand frozen in a hover like he’d been about to reach in. His face is a blank mask.
“Ah. I keep the batteries in the top drawer. Not. Not the bottom one.”
“Yes,” Shane says, cocking his head to the left in puzzlement, and then he pauses for a fraction of a second too long as he considers his words. “I can see that the batteries are not in the bottom drawer.”
*How Deep (Is Your Love) |  touchinghearts
The last thing Shane expects when he exits the bathroom is for his boyfriend to appear out of fucking nowhere, pin him against the wall, and swallow his cock down in the open hallway of a hotel. 
It's a love/hate kind of thing. |  heyghouls
Shane is an executive producer at BuzzFeed and Ryan is his intern. It's not love at first sight for the boys, but will they finally see eye to eye when they realize they have more in common than they thought? Shane is an introvert who finds it hard to let people in, and Ryan is a cute loving boy who just wants to figure the guy out. 
Just Out of Reach |  formosus_iniquis  
A variation on the "I asked for your help getting a book off the top shelf and and you laughed at my taste and called me a nerd so I shoved you into a table of nonfiction best-sellers and that’s how we both got banned from the quirky community bookstore" prompt 
keep you like an oath |  spoopyy
"I'm in love with you," Ryan says, desperate."No, you're in love with the views."
kiss me like you mean it |  rocketshiptospace
“Hi,” Tall man says, taking in the sight in front of him. “I’m sorry, I heard banging and yelling and I just, are you okay?”
“No. Yes. Maybe,” Ryan says, slowly standing back up on two legs again. “My door won’t open.” He eventually ads, when him and Tall man have just stared at each other for a few seconds.
“That’s unfortunate,” Tall man says, smiling at him. He has a really nice smile. “But it happens. It’s an old building, you know. Doors get stuck sometime. Here, let me try,” He steps past Ryan, and places his hand on the door handle. The door swings open like it’s nothing.
or, Ryan's apartment building plays matchmaker.
*Muscles Better and Nerves More |  beethechange
A certain meddling Voodoo Queen of New Orleans thinks Ryan and Shane need some new perspective on life. After an inadvisable ritual deposits Ryan in Shane’s body, and Shane in Ryan’s, the ghoulboys pursue some soul-searching and self-discovery to put things right. Sometimes in a sexy way. 
the calm before crescendo |  abovetheruins
Alternate title: 5 times Shane Madej was flustered by Ryan Bergara, and 1 time he finally did something about it. 
*The Desk Fic |  SincerelyLeah
Shane was having a shitty Monday morning and it was all because of one person, Ryan Bergara. But, by now he should know that endless teasing gets Shane more than riled up. 
Things That Go Bump in the Night (and 7 till 12 at weekends) |   HoopyFrood
Shane works at a Haunted House. Ryan is Ryan. Things go about as well as you'd imagine. 
Tranquility Base |  sessrumnir
After their successful Sims series, Kelsey has a different video proposal for the boys. This time, they're testing how fast gossip travels in the office. But Ryan doesn't expect their relationship to change so fast because of it. 
*wasted on you |  cursingcursive (queenradi)
there's a reason shane loves when ryan wears his clothes. 
Weird |  Helsabot
One night, the stack of pillows between them becomes one stack too many. “Let me— let me hit you with a thought. A theory.” “A postulation?” “Sure. Let me postulate at you.” “Postulate away, baby.”
You Make Me Glow |  sohapppily
Whenever they were on their ghoul excursions, Shane always had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue and a twisted smirk to shoot at Ryan’s terror. He was mostly the same way in their unrecorded life, but they played up the banter for the sake of The Boys. Although it was a welcome respite for Ryan, seeing Shane in these settings with nothing but sleep on his features never failed to be a bit jarring.
Ryan couldn’t look away.
lightning in a bottle |  LexTheMoose
Love is slow-dancing on the balcony of a house party at 11 PM. 
meet me halfway |  poetdameron
In a world where everything changed over the night, Ryan and Shane's minds connect miles away, making Shane the man of Ryan's dreams. Literally. 
Batch 2
*And they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates) |  Squeakyshroom
All my notes said on this one was “this is pure sex jesus”
2:10 to Wellton |  quackers
and i'm puffing my chest, getting red in the face |  pissedofsandwich
Bed-warm Hands and the Ghost of Elvis |   MiraclesofPaul
*BFFS Get Married For A Week - Ryan and Shane |  aspookycryptidsock
distorted truths |  hwsinbs
*Everything's Weird and We're Always in Danger |   beethechange
hammer me to the cross of my despair |   heartchains
I Think the Ghost Likes You |   cactsu
*I’ve Kissed You Before, but I Didn’t Do It Right (Can I Try Again) |   beethechange
if i should fall |  abovetheruins
*Just The Facts |   millyvanilly (miloisnothere)
*Out of Control with Ryan |  beethechange
*Pushing All Your Buttons |  beethechange
satisfaction brought it back |  ElasticElla
Short Stack |  Anonymous
*Thank you, Satan |  Squeakyshroom
The Chain |  Lafayette1777
Rough water |  heyghouls
Batch 3
The Thrilling Gardner Museum Heist |  orphan_account
One in Five Billion |  punk_rock_yuppie
a short history of almost something |  cooliohoolio
*A Suspicion of Feelings |  beethechange
I Will Be the Sun, I Will Wake You Up |  sohapppily
*ready if it happens with you |  sarcasticfishes
*The Denial Twist |  beethechange
The Bizarre Road Trip Of A Missing Family |  icantwritegood
Beautiful Crime |  orphan_account
The Odd Death of Michelle Von Emster |  icantwritegood
won't you ride on my fast machine? |  ElasticElla 
Batch 4
*Breathe |  quackers
*The Hunger |  poetdameron
Black Sun |  quackers
contrapposto |  spoopyy
(Let me tell you that I never liked major character death but I accidentally read this one without reading the warning and YOO I am a fan of major character death now. This was beautifully written!)
darling it's a faded notion |  varnes
(This was the very first shyan fic I’ve read and still one of the best one’s)
*Full-Court Press |  beethechange
(I remember this one oh my god this has jersey kink in it and I didn’t even know what it means until I read this and it awaken something in me. This writer I swear to god. They could write Ryan and Shane fucking in a hot dog costume on top of the mountains and I’d still be into it.)
*Ryan Number One |  quackers
(THIS has everything I want and didn’t know I needed. This is hot this is sexy. Five star porn right here.)
theft by finding |  varnes 
*Wicked Game |  quackers
(This is my favorite. This ruined me in so many ways and I got so affected and shaken up that I can’t draw anything for months. I have been to so many fandoms and read hundreds of fics but nothing has fucked me up like this. I have to switch to a different fandom because I am having the longest art block ever because I keep thinking about this fic. I am not exaggerating I swear if you see my previous posts there’s quite a gap in my shyan art. And I am saying this in the highest of compliment, this fic changed my life.)
*Translucent |  poetdameron 
*Begin the Begin, Over and Over |  beethechange 
*Let the Sunshine Burn Your Eyes |  YogurtTime 
*Look How Long They Are |  drunkkenobi
*The Disturbing Mystery of the Jamison Family |  icantwritegood
(This one’s fun! I fucking love this one! Lot’s of angry sex. The banter! The banter holy shit hmm!! I don’t want to spoil anymore. It’s dark but it’s funny it’s also hot and sad. This writer loooves angst.)
*Collide |  needywitch 
* - has porn
This got way longer than I thought and I couldn’t even put the summary in some of them but all of these are worth the read. This fandom has so much talented writers that my small monkey brain went fucking bananas on the list. 
175 notes · View notes
whats-rambled-rambled · 4 years ago
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Smoke&Mirrors - playlist
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You can find it on Spotify here.
Let’s start from the beginning:
Imagine Dragons - Smoke and Mirrors
Okay, so with Stuck in reverse series everything started with one song that inspired me to write something, and you know what happened later.
With this new series, the idea came first (prompted by @vaneilla​’s wonderful brain, and you know what? I actually went back to check that bit of convo, and it was all because @gallifreyan-uprising​ did what she did to TP, so I guess thank you both, ladies!), and then I was looking for THE song, that could serve as an inspiration and as a title.
And because all my best ideas come to me while driving, and I had Imagine Dragons in my car’s CD player… BOOM.
//I'm starting to cave
I'm losing my flame
I wanted your truth
But I wanted the pain
To disappear
Dream maker, life taker
Open up my mind
All I believe
Is it a dream
That comes crashing down on me?
All that I hope
Is it just smoke and mirrors?
I want to believe
But all that I know
Is it just smoke and mirrors?//
This just felt so fitting for Reader and her struggle a little later in the series, and smoke and mirrors alone seemed like just what I needed to capture the essence of the main conflict between Neil and R.
Chapter 1: Imagine Dragons - Natural
I had the title, I knew what I wanted to do in the first chapter, but I still had doubts if I could switch to this new dynamic. -Neil being mean? I mean how even-- I needed a good playlist to get myself in the right mood to set the tone for the whole series, and even when I found a few songs that were good enough, I knew that none of them was the one. And then again, on my way to work, this time from my Spotify playlist - Natural. I literally started screaming when I realized that it was exactly what I’d been looking for. Not only because of its badass vibe, but those lyrics, holy shit -
//That's the price you pay
Leave behind your heart and cast away
Just another product of today
Rather be the hunter than the prey
And you're standing on the edge face up
'Cause you're a natural
A beating heart of stone
You gotta be so cold
To make it in this world
Yeah, you're a natural
Living your life cutthroat
You gotta be so cold
Yeah, you're a natural//
This is R.  “A beating heart of stone / You gotta be so cold / To make it in this world”. Because she might be all spiky and angry on the outside, but why is she that way? Because she has to. Because nothing ever came easy in her life.
And this is Neil, too. A true natural, as TP calls him. But he also plays a role, because he was put in a position he didn’t want. And not only by TP, but also by R. That scene in the bar? He really hopes to clear the air between them, but she is not ready to listen, and keeps antagonizing him. *sigh* We know how it ends up. Anyway -
bonus: Willyecho - Welcome to the fire
Found this one when I was looking for the vibe, and then those lyrics--:
//I'm focused
I've been watching for the omens
I've been listening to everything you've said
Its been running through my head
Locked and loaded
I've got the feeling that you've noticed
Yeah I've only just begun
I won't stop until it's done
'Til you're broken
So welcome to the fire
I'm the one who lit the night up//
-- because yes, R’s that mad at him, TP, the whole world at this point, really.
Chapter 2: Florence + the Machine - What kind of man
So you know, one of the challenges I’d set for myself for this series was to finally write a proper smut. God, was I stressed out (shoutout to my lovely friends who had to listen to my self-doubting whines for quite some time). And as I knew it was supposed to happen in this chapter, and I already had an appropriate build-up in mind, I needed a song. And it wasn’t this one, although it made its way to the chapter’s playlist. But as I actually wrote the whole thing down… I felt it had that vibe.
//You were on the other side, like always
You could never make you mine//
Oh R, my sweet summer child.
//To let me dangle at a cruel angle
Oh, my feet don't touch the floor
Sometimes you're half in and then you're half out
But you never close the door
What kind of man loves like this?//
And that part is just so fitting with the whole confusion.
bonus: Graffiti Ghosts - Last man standing
The one behind the shooting range sequence:
//Your trigger finger better think about your future
You’re getting twisted thinking I don’t want to shoot ya
I’ve been waiting for a long time
and I’m coming back to get what’s mine
Sick of living with your little double faces
I’m getting itchy and so livid I can taste it
I’ve been waiting for a long time
and I’m swinging til I get what’s mine
but I’m not going down
I’m not going down//
Can’t say that R isn’t fantasizing about shooting Neil at some point, it’s all I’m saying. And the vibe was all right, and worked for the sparring scene as well.
bonus:  Zayde Wolf - New Blood
I needed decent background music to write that sparring scene, you know - to hype myself up. And then found this song. Look at the lyrics:
//I spent my whole life chained to the wall
Hunger for more, not afraid to fall
Had to cut a man down to get where I am
But someone had to tumble, and someone had to stand
Don't try to fight, nothin' you can do
I'm gonna run all over you
It's too late to try, there's nothin' you can do
I'm gonna run all over you//
and
//Most of my life was heavy and hard, yeah
So many days, so many scars
But it was all of those years who make who I am, yeah
But I broke through, and here I stand, yeah//
Added to the playlist instantly. You can see it too, right?
bonus: Nothing But Thieves - Itch
I love this band and I’m eternally grateful that my dear friend @connie-nikas​ itroduced me to their music. Spotify suggested that it fit the mood for the playlist I already had for that part, so I checked the lyrics and YES:
//There's a hunger in my heart
It's full of promise, promise
There's an itch under my skin
It's under my skin, under my skin//
...
//There's a blood red on my shirt
And it's shining, shining
There's a sharp pain from my face
I kinda like it, I like it//
...
//I just wanna love
I just wanna touch
I just wanna see
'Cause I, I just wanna feel something real
'Cause I, I just wanna feel something real
Wanna feel something//
It fits more than one moment in the series, but that blood part seemed accurate for sparring, so it stayed in this chapter.
bonus: Dorothy - Wicked ones
Another Spotify suggestion, and it works pretty well for these dumbasses, although this part:
//This night ain't for the faint of heart
For the faint of heart, for the faint of heart
This night ain't for the faint of heart
'Cause the faint of heart gonna fall apart//
--this got me going while I was having heart palpitations as I was getting closer to the locker scene lol.
And then:
//Ain't no sleep when the wicked play
All we do is get laid, uuh uh uuh uuh
Ain't no love when the wicked run
All we do is try to lay off, lay off, lay off
We're the wicked ones, wicked ones//
Fits, right?
bonus: Muse - Undisclosed desires
I -blame- have to thank M for this one, and it was my initial title song for this part. Just see for yourselves:
//I know you've suffered
But I don't want you to hide
It's cold and loveless
I won't let you be denied
Soothing, I'll make you feel pure
Trust me, you can be sure
I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognize your beauty's not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart
You trick your lovers
That you're wicked and divine
You may be a sinner
But your innocence is mine
Please me, show me how it's done
Tease me, you are the one//
It just -- it’s not only about that one scene. Maybe it would be even better for part 3? Anyway, could be sung to R almost word for word, right?
Chapter 3: Nothing But Thieves - You know me too well
One of my favourites from this band, and I knew it had to be a title of some part of the story. Because:
//I gave you a call
Baby, I could come by, help forget it all
'Cause in this sticky weather, oh, it's really hard to sleep
As you know all too well
And when we dig together, oh, you make me feel so cheap
But I can't help myself
Filthy impetuous soul
I wanna give it to you
Oh, just to see what you do
'Cause I'm so drunk on you
Baby, you're all that I want
I want you all to myself
Oh, but you know me too well//
So yeah, filthy impetuous soul was only fair to use for that bathroom, right?
//And maybe you're right
We don't get on so well, when we lose the high//
That’s them at this point, all right.
//'Cause every love story always end in tragedy
If you wait long enough//
Oh hello, R’s beliefs here, clear as night.
//Renew me 'cause sometimes I forget
Got my own two hands clenched around my neck//
Could be said by both of them at this point, tbh.
bonus: Leann Rimes - Can’t fight the moonlight
So let me be frank - I knew I wanted to put that bathroom scene somewhere for quite some time, so it’s written purely for self-indulgence. I just needed to find an opportunity. And during one of the brainstorming sessions with A (because she was so kind to help me out with figuring things out when I stumbled over certain plot points, and I can’t thank her enough), the idea of karaoke night came to life and she gave me this song and fuck yes! That was it!  
One of my favourite Neil headcanons is that he likes cheesy songs, and Coyote Ugly movie has a special place in my heart, so I just knew it was the one for him! Especially because:
//Under the lovers sky
Gonna be with you
And no one's gonna be around
If you think that you won't fall
Well just wait until
'Til the sun goes down//
it’s just perfect if you wanna kinda seduce/kinda embarrass someone, right? And also:
//You can try to resist
Try to hide from my kiss
Don't you know, don't you know
That you, can't fight the moonlight
Deep in the dark, you'll surrender your heart//
Because yes, he wanted to kiss her in that locker room, that’s a thing you do when you’re attracted to someone, right? He thought it was just because of this whole angry sex thing, but was aware of that all the time, that’s why R’s reaction in the bathroom alarms him. I mean it would make him stop anyway, but still.
bonus: Ruelle - Until we go down
The mood progression in this song fried my brain, absolutely amazing!
The lyrics, too:
//And I feel it running through my veins
And I need that fire just to know that I'm awake
Erased, I missed till the break of day
And I need that fire just to know that I'm awake
Until we go down//
bonus: Bishop Briggs - Wild horses
Another song that captures the spirit of what’s going on in R’s head.
//You hold me down in the best way
No quarter from these chains that I've
Slept on my heart for a feeling
Why can't I let my demons out?
Keep screaming into the pillow
Cause your taste still gets me stupid high
Oh glory, I'm a believer
Oh glory, I'm a troubler//
At this point, she’s well aware of the effect Neil has on her, and the internal conflict is strong in this one.
//You call my truth in the worst way
Through the dirty lands of a broken smile
And I swear I'm not a pretender
Sometimes it's love who's the baby's cry
So, I keep on damning the devil
And you keep on saying it's alright
Oh glory, I'm a believer
Oh Lord, I'm holding tight, but//
And the whole vibe of this song, it’s like fuck I’m losing my mind, but I want you and I want you now. Just makes my breath hitch.
bonus: Transviolet - Bloodstream
And as I needed a certain mood, -(ended up actually writing with TENDER in the background because apparently I need a complete opposite mood seeping through my headphones to write any smut at all but anyway...)-, and this song is just...wow.
//Fingertips drip down my spine
Cruel desire, danger in our consequence
You look my way and I lose my…
Hey, you wanna rule the world?
Outlaw love, make you lose control
Hey, hey, boy you got me like whoa
White hot, adrenaline baby
In my veins, you got me praying
Whoa, whoa, whoaaaa
My pretty blue lips begging
Take me, I need you in my bloodstream
Hold me, break me
My breath is for holding, overdose me
I need you in my bloodstream
Hold me, break me, break me//
Hot. I won’t be taking any notes.
Chapter 4: Aimee Mann - Save me
You remember that part 4 was supposed to be the last one? Don’t ask me, I don’t know how I would manage to get that emotional progression from these dumbasses by the end of that part, so I’m glad y’all voted on splitting it into 2 (and then another 2) parts. But I already had a playlist for the finale, and then had to make a new one, and then had too many possible title songs.
Why did this one win? Because in my brain it’s directly connected to my OTP and also fits this part of the story. I battled myself if it was a spoiler or not (and also had trouble getting to terms with R ever admitting that she needs to be saved), but then thought - eh, what the hell, it has the right lyrics and a proper mood, and here it is.
//You look like a perfect fit
For a girl in need of a tourniquet
But can you save me
Come on and save me
If you could save me
From the ranks of the freaks
Who suspect they could never love anyone//
and that shift to this part, oh my heart:
//Except the freaks
Who suspect they could never love anyone
Except the freaks who could never love anyone.//
bonus: Jamie O'Neal - All by myself
Okay, so the car scene was in my mind for a little while, and in the initial outline, aka part 4 is the finale I couldn't find a place for it and thought I might end up making a one shot out of it, so when I actually had enough time to write it into the story, I was so excited!
I was looking for a song, and the first one that came to my mind was Air Supply - All out of love, but I could never beat what Jensen Ackles did in the outtakes of that one Supernatural episode, so I had to abandon that song, sadly. And then I thought about the one with basically the same vibe and *ding ding ding*.  And of course Neil would know it. And would know what movie this is from (just look at him and try telling me he doesn’t like British rom-coms, I dare you). And would tease R about it. (and that’s why I used that cover of this song).
//Hard to be sure
Sometimes I feel so insecure
And loves so distant and obscure
Remains the cure
All by myself
Don't wanna be
All by myself
Anymore//
bonus: Meg Myers - Motel
I’ve discovered Meg’s music just because of Spotify’s recommendations, and oh my god, it’s amazing! And this song just felt right for their talk during the stakeout, just look at the lyrics:
//You're weak, broken in a motel
You blink, tears are falling down, down, down
And you're free, free inside your own hell
You speak, someone let me out, out, out
And I can't stop this pain, it only grows
Tell me why I always feel alone
And I can't fight this feeling anymore
Show me what I'm really living for
I wanna love, wanna live, wanna breath, wanna give
But it's hard and it's dark and we're doomed from the start
I wanna love, wanna live, wanna breathe, wanna give
But it's hard and it's dark and I'm falling apart//
ahh, nothing like a good old angst, am I right? Perfect for writing about the more vulnerable sides of them.
bonus: Fear Of Men - Sane
There is just something in this song that resonates deeply, you know?
//I see you drowning
Half flesh half stone
With ambitions that drain your health
You hear me
(Secrets)
You run from me
You hear me
(You hear me)
I know
You hear me
(Secrets)
You run from me
You hear me
(You hear me)
You know, you know, you know
It’s in your eyes when you’re perfectly sane
It’s in your blood when you can’t bear these heavy thoughts again
It’s in your eyes when you’re perfectly sane
It’s in your blood when you can’t bear these heavy thoughts again//
bonus: Laura Doggett - Beautiful undone
That track almost ended up as the title. When I stumbled upon this song, I was completely blown away, as in I-had-it-on-repeat-for-4h-straight blown away.
//I took you walking
Through the murmurations of my mind//
that line just strikes me right through the heart, and it gets even better later:
//I'm looking down and my heart's connected
I'm feeling love from a different view
We learn the most when we least expect it
We learn the most when we break in two//
I don’t think that any of them expects to learn more about each other during that one mission. I mean sure, Neil counts on it, but doesn’t know what it's gonna be. And if she lets him into his head at all.
//You know you're beautiful undone
(Shine on)
So beautiful undone
You look beautiful undone
(Hearts connected)
My boy of blue.//
My boy of blue. I don’t know why it screamed Neil to me, but it did.
//It's the cracks that let the light shine
It's the cracks that let the light shine through.//
And that’s exactly it.
Chapter 5: LAUREL - Blue blood
Okay, THIS song, as soon as I heard it, I was like - this is it, this is her.
//You woke me up for your blue blood
Made me come undone
Can't believe you've been here the whole time
Too nice to pass you by and I can't believe
You've been here the whole time
You made me feel again
Made me dance circles 'round the pieces of your heart
You made me feel again
After the last time, didn't think that I could love//
That “was he always so gorgeous” moment, right? When she just sees him for the first time this way. And is slowly coming to terms with her feelings.
bonus: Prep School - Come as you are
So this one… We all know the original song (or this is my old ass talking), but only when I heard this cover, I really felt it, you know?
//Come as you are, as you were
As I want you to be
As a friend, as a friend
As an old enemy//
Just made me think about R being ready to get to know Neil better. About the shift in their dynamic.
//When I swear that I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun//
She lets her guard down, and is ready to trust him.
Also - how great is the mood of this song? That crescendo just takes my breath away, and that calmer moment at the end? Good god. Utter perfection.
bonus: Ray LaMontagne - Such a simple thing
I’ve been sitting on this song for quite some time, and just had to find a suitable moment for it. And this was it.
//Tell me what you're feeling
I can take the pain
Tell me that you mean it
That you won't leave again
Tell me what your heart wants
Such a simple thing
My heart is like paper
Yours is like a flame
I can't make you see
If you don't by now
I'll get through these chains
Some how, some how
Take it if you want it
I'm so tired I just don't care
Can't you see how much you hurt me?
It's like I wasn't there//
My heart just aches while I listen to this song. It’s so tender, and yet so heartbreaking.
bonus: Keane - Hamburg sing
When A sent me this song, god, the way I screamed. Because this is so Neil.
//I don't wanna be adored
Don't wanna be first in line
Or make myself heard
I'd like to bring a little light
To shine a light on your life
To make you feel loved
No, I don't wanna be the only one you know
I want to be the place you call home
I lay myself down to make it so
But you don't want to know
I give much more than I'd ever ask for
Will you see me in the end
Or is it just a waste of time?
Trying to be your friend?
Just shine, shine, shine
Shine a little light
Shine a light on my life
And warm me up again//
At this point in the story, he already fell for her hard. And can just hope that she sees him at one point, too.
You know, writing that first really intimate moment between them-- I know I was supposed to be on R’s side, but I knew what was going on in Neil’s head at that point (that’s why I was so happy when Chels asked that one question that made me write Come as you are) and... I don’t know, I’m so soft for this idiot, I just want to hug him.
//Fool, I wonder if you know yourself at all
You know that it could be so simple//
My dumbasses.
Chapter 6: Phantogram - You’re mine
We’re gonna save this one for the very end, just mentioning it here as we move to the next chapter.
bonus: Adna - Night
You know that sad music montage thing that the movies do after a breakup scene or something? This song has that exact vibe.
//Silence grows and you're all i know
Eyes are closed, I'll see your smile, your love
Thinking
This is what
It could be
Knowing
It is all
It would be
In the night
When you see
What i see
In the night when you feel
What i mean
You're my knight
And my dream
And my only sight
Oh you
Oh you
Stay true//
For me, it’s the beginning of chapter 6. R is almost heartbroken, and that almost comes from the part of her that still thinks that still fights the idea that she might have any feelings for that blonde idiot. Conceal, don't feel, or something. But she’s being haunted by random memories from their time together.
bonus: Snow Patrol - Make this go on forever
This song makes my heart ache and clench and oh my god--
//Please don't let this turn into something it's not
I can only give you everything I've got
I can't be as sorry as you think I should
But I still love you more than anyone else could
All that I keep thinking throughout this whole flight
Is it could take my whole damn life to make this right
This splintered mast I'm holding on won't save me long
Because I know fine well that what I did was wrong//
This works for the sad montage thing I’ve mentioned, but it was all about this line:
//First kiss and the first time that I felt connected to anything//
I was listening to it on my way home one day and my eyes welled up. Because that’s what I wanted both of them to feel right then.
//And I don't know where to look
My words just break and melt
Please just save me from this darkness//
and these lines just brought the image of Neil stumbling over his words and, well, that was it. I knew it had to be done like that.
bonus: Walking On Cars - Speeding Cars
This song is about something different, but there is one part that resonated with the story:
//Even the half smile would have slowed down the time
If I could call you half mine
Maybe this is the safest way to go//
Just fits. Had to be there.
bonus: Etham - Before I lose my mind - Stripped
I think I found this one a while ago, and then it came on when I had Spotify on shuffle, and oh myyyy goooood. That heart-wrenching yearning? So, so on point.
//Look at the state I'm in
I couldn’t say where I've been
Lord knows that it ain't felt like home//
This is as much R’s song, as it is Neil’s.
//I don't know what
I've been running from, running from
Or what I thought I would find
All I know is
You're the only one, only one
I need you tonight
Before I lose my mind//
and this part:
//Don't tell me that I’m too late this time
So much I couldn’t see
With words that I didn't speak
What do I have to do to make you mine?//
This part of the playlist is just utter heartbreak and yearning, but it was only fitting. Just moments before the confession.
bonus: Nick Wilson - Let me hold you
On repeat for the whole part with Neil’s confession. This song is so goddamn beautiful, I can’t--.
//We've been there before
Reaching the end but forgetting the reason we started this for
In all of our flaws
Laid out beneath us, there's no need to keep building up these walls
(Oh we can't go on)
Just let me hold you
I'll run my fingers through your hair
Let our ghost loose
Let me know that you're still there//
bonus: Liz Longley - Rescue my heart
This, on the other hand, started playing right after, and I partially blame it for R’s breakdown. I was just staring at that line about her being afraid to lose him and I was like “where the hell this came from, girl?” and then, as I was trying to push them both further into the plot, but they kinda refused to let each other go, so I was sitting there like “you guys really needed that, huh?”
I know what it sounds like. But when I spend so much time with my characters, really fleshing them out in every possible way, they kinda develop minds of their own, and later they guide me through the dialogue parts, and even sometimes ruin my initial plans. Because they know best how they would behave right then. So all I have to do is just follow them. Or try reasoning with them. (Had a moment like that at the end of the first scene in chapter 6, like had this feeling that R just wanted to dwell on the nature of her relationship with Ives, but I didn’t want to put it there so openly, I was happy with leaving a line here and there, so I had to put my foot down pff - and it switched into that bit about friendships in general)
Right, back to the song:
//Lying to myself I can make it on my own
Making it alone is lonely
Twisting and I'm turning
Oh I'm crashing and I'm burning
So reach out your hand to me
Come down
Rescue my heart I'll drown
Without you//
This is it.
bonus: Madonna - I want you
You know, one of my favourite parts of the writing process is just bumping the ideas around, and I have been blessed to have a wonderful friend such as M, who’s always there when I need to discuss different ideas or just got a bit of dialogue I really want to share. And knowing what I was writing, she sent me this song.
And I’ve been listening to it a lot ever since, and when Neil started his confession, and struggled with words, I wrote: "I want…you.” He moved closer. “The right way.”
I stopped, staring at that line, like really, Neil? This is it? Then the next song from the playlist started playing and:
//I want you the right way
I want you, but I want you to want me too//
So I just sighed and moved on, dropping a short message to M on the way.
bonus: Welshly Arms - Need you tonight
Spotify recommends the best covers, hands down. I love the original song, but this right here? It’s everything.
//How do you feel
I'm lonely
What do you think
Can't take it all
What ya gonna do
Gonna live my life
So slide over here
And give me a moment
Your moves are so raw
I've got to let you know
I've got to let you know
You're one of my kind
I need you tonight
'Cause I'm not sleeping
There's something about you girl
That makes me sweat//
bonus: TENDER - Afternoon
Every song of theirs is just incredibly sensual, so I thought it was only fair to include one of those for the scene (thank you again A, their music is everything, I swear). And this one was particularly accurate:
//I'm spendin' all of my time tryna open up
Let it breathe, let it breathe
It all comes down
To whether you love me anymore
God, I hope you do
'Cause I can't tell, I can't tell
By the look in your eyes//
bonus: Layla - Weightless
Another one for that moment.
//A silver whisper, take flight and steal into my mouth
An urge to kiss you and let this secret pleasure out
Your touch so tender, a helpless roar of golden play
This youthful slender, hallucinate my woes away
We are weightless
We are invincible
Nothin' like this
Flyin' like cannonballs//
bonus: Rob Simonsen - Soft center
While I was discussing the main plot points with A, we knew there had to be a morning after scene, and she had just a song for it. Utter perfection.
end credits: Phantogram - You’re mine
I know I say it a lot, but when A sent it to me… The way I screamed. I couldn’t believe it. The story was already like 2 parts in, I think? And this song...every line was about them. Every. Goddamn. One. And the overall  I just thought to myself “oh, end credits rolling right here.”
//You don't talk to no one
Don't you look at nothing
Focus on me
Look into my eyes
Come a little closer
Let me tell you something
Eat your ego honey
Honey swallow your pride
You don't talk to no one
Don't you look at nothing
Focus on me
Look into my eyes
Come a little closer
Let me tell you something
You ain't going anywhere
'Cause you mine//
And from this part it gets even better:
//I used to be a rifle
Yeah I had my distance,
Whistling like a bullet in the sky//
//I used to be a psycho
Yeah I had my demons,
Crawling like a spider up my spine//
*incoherent screaming*
And the next part took me right back to the very first scene.
//I spotted you the second I walked in the building
I knew that you had let me get you high//
Right? Right???
//I wanna hear the things you say when no-one's listening
But that don't matter anyway...
'Cause you're mine//
And that’s it.
Damn, what a wild ride that was.
Thank you for staying with me until the very end.
22 notes · View notes
ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years ago
Text
If They Knew: Chris
As part of the No Good Horrible Very Bad Week for Chris and Jake! This is more just Chris having thoughts than it is anything else. Kind of a bridge to the next Jake, which is going to be... much more intense.
CW: Head banging mention, stimming/punishment for stimming references, references to noncon, survivor of abuse/torture having some very fucky self-blaming thought processes, conditioned thought processes that include thought of dubcon
Tagging @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @stxck-fxck, @slaintetowhump
“Hey, kiddo, whatcha doin’?”
Chris doesn’t look up. “Thinking,” he replies, slowly, just one word. It’s hard to do it, to slow mouth and mind, but he’s trying very hard to be good. Good means keeping your hands still, your head off the wall, your words slow and steady. When he taps, they watch him, and they ask questions.
He was asked questions before, too, and then his hands were tied to his thighs and behind his back and they said if you like to hit your head so much we can help you with that and so when they ask him questions, he stops all the things he’s been punished for.
He sits very, very still. 
He is very, very good.
Jefferson sighs and settles himself heavily onto the other end of the couch, giving Chris plenty of space. He doesn’t understand that Chris doesn’t like space. If he has too much space between him and someone else, it starts to itch and burn under his skin, licks up his nerves, alone alone touch me I want this please just touch me anything everything just touch please.
“What are you thinking about?” Jefferson asks.
“There’s… a new… couch… now,” Chris says, enunciating every word. Stop your fucking stammering, you stupid piece of shit. A handler didn’t say that. Someone else did, a woman’s voice, a voice he wanted to understand and hated and thought he was supposed to love.
“Yeah, it’s a pretty nice one, right?” Jefferson pats the cushion, like the couch is a very good boy. Chris swallows against the wish that Jefferson would touch him that way. 
I could be such a good boy for you.
“It is… nice. Thank you.”
Chris doesn’t like the new couch. 
He’s sitting on the unfamiliar cushions, a little too hard and new compared to the old couch that Nat claimed had come with the house and she’d just changed covers on and kept clean. The plaid fabric is rough to the touch of Chris’s fingertips, which run back and forth along it, tracing a line of deep red thread down the length of the arm, his eyes trapped there, staring at the hints of red and blue layered over brown or green, he can’t really tell. 
“Feels better to be in a clean house, right?” Chris glances sideways, looking at Jefferson. He’s older than Jake, but not as old as Sir. His belt buckle is silver and there’s a horse carved into it, words Chris carefully doesn’t try to read. He’s got narrow cheekbones and a hard jaw and he looks like a cowboy, and his boyfriend doesn’t look like that at all. 
Chris wonders, idly, if Jefferson would let him be good the way that Jake won’t.
He could find out. It’s just them right now, in the house. Everyone else is in their own houses, living other lives. He could unfold himself and sit in Jefferson’s lap, twist his palm between the man’s legs just right, slide back into his head and let his training take over, and maybe then the aching yawning empty inside his soul would fade, for a while.
Jake tells him that’s not the same as feeling better, but Jake isn’t here.
“It does. Thank… you… for helping,” Chris says, carefully. They did so, so much. There’s a new couch, and a new TV, and a new coffee table and all the glass is gone in here. If he goes upstairs, the rooms are clean with new mattresses, fresh sheets and pillowcases, even Jake’s.
Chris had kept one pillow all for himself so it wouldn’t stop smelling right, and he had that pillow tucked against his side like a puppy next to him. 
“You’re welcome, kiddo,” Jefferson says, and his voice is warm and soft. He sounds like the nice handlers, the ones who trick you with good words and low voices and then they hurt you anyway. 
Or they don’t hurt you, and that’s so much worse.
The whole house is new and wrong and better all at once, and he doesn’t like it at all. With the insides of the house changed, it feels like a new house and maybe he doesn’t belong in this one. Maybe this isn’t a safe place, anymore, if it’s not the same safe place they brought him to.
Nothing is the same but the paint on the walls.
“They said I can pay his bail tomorrow,” Jefferson says, picking up the remote and switching on the TV. Chris’s eyes jerk to the screen as it lights up, as there are people now talking and fighting and fucking and Chris knows all about some of those things-
Stop. 
The voice in his head sounds like Jake, and he listens. He cuts the thought off before it goes any further, slips Jake’s pillow up into his lap between his legs and his stomach, and buries his face in the familiar, soothing smell.
He can’t tap or bang his head because he can’t explain it to them. They don’t understand, no one does. Jake does and Nat does but nobody else and he doesn’t want the questions, he just wants it to be safe again.
The only thing they couldn’t replace was Nat’s computer, and Jake’s laptop, both of them too expensive and no one had any extras of those, not even their friends. Chris wants to ask how Jake is going to do his school things, now, but he doesn’t think anyone knows the answer. Jake will have to go back to class but he can’t go to class if he’s somewhere else, can he? And Chris would go for him but he can’t do that, either. 
Maybe Vince will write more checks. He’s always telling Nat I might as well be the money, it’s pretty much all I am now, and Nat snaps back, Money and a poisoned liver, that’s for sure and then somehow they end up hugging and Chris hasn’t figured that out yet.
He doesn’t like that the house has changed, but he likes the people who changed it. Kind people, who didn’t touch him unless he wanted them to, who said nice things to him and mostly let Miss Ruth tell them all what to do. People had swarmed the house for hours and hours, sweeping and dusting and picking up and putting away. 
There were new dishes in the cabinets and the fridge was full of food for Chris to eat. New milk and new orange juice, big baking dishes with notes on them, Post-Its he thinks probably tell him how to heat the things in the dishes up, but he can’t read them, and he doesn’t know how to tell everyone that he can’t read them.
He’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to tell them he can’t read and isn’t allowed to use the oven, because Jake always says not to tell anyone when he takes him to school.
They drank the coffee, while they cleaned. Emptied the pot and made a new one and then emptied that one, too.
Chris had kept to himself that the coffee was for Jake, that they should stop using Jake’s milk and sugar. He couldn’t be sure Jake would come back unless the coffee was ready. Even as he’d had the thought, he could recognize that it was irrational, it was stupid, just like they’d said in training he was so fucking stupid because he did things like this, like the thinking and the fingers and his head and-
There’s a thing you do in grief, a voice he doesn’t know murmurs, a low voice, soothing and professional. Who spoke to him like this? Handlers were never so kind-sounding. It’s called ‘magical thinking’. It’s not anything you need to be ashamed of-
Chris knocks his forehead hard into his knees, knocking the voice and the thought and the pain that comes fast on its heels away.
Grief doesn’t always show as sadness, sometimes it comes out as anger-
He hits his head again, and this time the voice stays gone.
It’s a stupid voice, and his thoughts are stupid, and he’s so fucking stupid. Making coffee won’t make Jake come back, but he can’t stop thinking it, can’t quit the circle of his thoughts, only one train will stay on its track, just the coffee train, the one that chugs along and whispers stupid boy, stupid boy, your fault, stupid boy, all your fault, stupid boy, because of you as it runs and runs and runs around his head. All the other trains are crawling along in other places. 
“You like Shawshank Redemption?” Jefferson asks, sounding a little more hesitant this time. Chris doesn’t look at him, only hugs the pillow tighter and shrugs his narrow shoulders. “Yeah, okay,” The man continues, frowning. “I guess everyone likes Shawshank.”
Chris doesn’t, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t like when good people get locked up when they didn’t do anything wrong and he doesn’t like when the other prisoners act like handlers and shove the good guy up against the wall. He doesn’t like that he just lives there for years and years and years.
He only likes the end, where the good guy gets away. At least, he’s pretty sure he does.
“So… kiddo. Um. Chris.” Jefferson pauses. It’s a long, long pause. Chris curls up into a tiny ball, on the brand new couch, and hides his head behind his arms, his legs. His toes are cold but his toes are always cold and there are no Jake-spots in the bed anymore to warm them.
Chris slept in Jake’s bed all by himself last night, and he dreamed a jumbled mix of nightmares, training and the big mansion and the shelter all run together. He dreamed that Sir had Jake in his bed instead of Chris, and he couldn’t beg hard enough, couldn’t be good enough in the dark to take his place.
“When, uh, when they come back, you know… cops aren’t always… good, to people like him. That break the law for the right reasons. You… know that, right?”
Chris nods, but doesn’t look up from the warm darkness he’s created with his head buried against the pillow, behind his thighs and his arms. His heart beats fast behind bone, under skin, and he twists one hand into his lap so he can silently tap the pillow, finger-twist-tap-tap-tap, trying to calm his voice before he speaks. “I... know... that,” He says, muffled. 
Chris understands, although no one will admit it to him, that what has happened here is that they came for him - and Jake went instead. That’s why he won’t come back looking the same, that’s why he’ll come back hurt if he comes back at all.
He knows this because when the cops returned while they were cleaning the house, they showed Miss Ruth and Naomi and Jefferson and the small crowd of Jaden’s friends pictures. They didn’t show pictures of Jake, or Krista, or Leila or Antoni or Nat. They showed pictures of Chris. They asked questions about Chris.
Never seen him, Jaden had said, the eleven-year-old’s face set with sincere helpfulness. You’d never have known how angry he’d been when the cop car pulled up. The other boys had stood right by him and lied, all of them well aware Chris was hidden in the coat closet peering through the slimmest little space in the slightly opened door. There hadn’t been time to get him to the hiding spot upstairs.
They come and go, Naomi had said, bouncing baby Kaelah on her hip. I’ve seen probably a couple dozen of those homeless people she helps, since I bought the house. I’ve never seen that one. 
Jesus, that one looks like a kid, Jefferson had said, eyebrows raised in mock surprise. 
He’s eighteen, the cop said, flatly. His guardian assures us-
Like fuck he is, Jefferson’s partner muttered, until Jefferson jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow. The cop hadn’t wanted to be there, and they hadn’t wanted him there, and eventually he left, driving slowly away. They let Chris out of the coat closet, then, and eventually they finished cleaning, and everyone left but Jefferson.
He is here waiting for Jake to come back, but they were looking for him. They cut up the beds and the couches and broke everything because they didn’t find Chris. If they’d found him, they would have taken him home to Sir and everything would be okay for everyone else. Sir always said if he ran they would hunt him down and take him back, and he knows that’s what happened, but they didn’t take him, they took Jake instead. 
He is stupid - stupid and a coward, because he could have gone with them and Jake would still be here, but instead he hid in the closet. He let someone else go in his place. 
He’s trying to do it all just right, but he’s not really sure what right is, anymore. He didn’t move - he stayed still and quiet, in the dark, just like they told him to. But if staying quiet means Jake won’t come back, that’s just as bad as being dead.
It’s worse.
Chris understands that, deep down, that being what he is would be worse, to someone like Jake, than being dead. It’s why he can’t go to counseling with any rescues outside the house, even though Antoni and Leila go. He can’t go because they all know that his kind of Box Boy is worse than all the other ones.
It’s why Kauri doesn’t stay still, why he never stops going places, because if he stops he’ll go home to his Sir, who he calls Mr. Owen, and everyone knows it. 
They could make Jake  be like Chris, that’s what the dreams mean. That Chris is what he is, and Jake could be that, too. And if that happens, it’ll be Chris’s fault for staying still and hiding and thinking that that was the right thing, only now it’s been three sunrises, two sunsets, since they took Jake away, and now he can’t stop thinking about all the other things he could have done instead. 
He tried to tell Jefferson his dreams, when he woke up. That he dreamed that Jake was the one on the hooks on the wall, that Jake was in the navy sheets, that Chris was being taught and made to understand how he had been bad. Lessons he already knew, taught in different ways. He tried to explain about his hands being tied down to his legs to keep the still. But his words were all scrambled, his mouth kept moving on all the other tracks of thought and not the one he wanted to talk about. Eventually, he gave up.
Eventually, he made himself speak slowly, softly, carefully choosing all his words. Like he spoke to Sir. He stops trying to explain. He doesn’t talk about his dreams. He just stays on the couch, and he waits.
He keeps his thoughts inside his head and lets them spiral-swim beneath the surface and back up, derail and crash. He stares at birds outside and thinks about how Nat likes to bring home bunches of flowers from the grocery store, the ones that have brown or wilty spots, to see if she can nurse them along just a little bit longer. Jake doesn’t care about flowers but Jake likes the trees, more, and likes to water all the garden plants and Chris’s feet begin to tap, cold toes against the couch cushion, rocking them up and down. 
Sir has trees but Chris was never allowed to see them. 
My beautiful little secret, aren’t you? Sweet boy. Karen knows how to let a man buy what he wants, hm?
He shudders, feeling a sudden surge through himself of something he’s never felt when he thinks of Sir, not ever before. Chris thinks of his Sir’s oil-slick smile and the fingers that held his chin and he doesn’t feel like he misses him, or wants to be back in his silky sheets, or any of it.
Chris thinks of Sir’s touch and he’s disgusted by it. 
I hate him.
The thought barely seems like his own voice, it seems like someone else, a voice that’s his but not his at all. Under the surface, buried beneath the rules and the training and the pain. It’s a stronger voice than his real one. It’s the voice of someone who had people who loved him.
I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. I don’t ever want him to touch me again. I didn’t want any of this and I don’t ever want to do it again.
He must have made a sound - a breath, a loud exhale, a choked-off sob - because Jefferson suddenly shifts around to look at him, leaning over, cowboy-smile, a little sad, a little unsure. “Hey, you okay, Chris?”
“I d-don’t want, want to go back,” Chris says, trying to keep his voice slow, but he can’t quite hold the words back this time. He hugs the pillow tighter. “I don’t, don’t-don’t, don’t want, want to to to to go back to, to my Sir, I don’t want Jake to be-be hurt, I don’t want it. I don’t. I don’t want it.”
“Your what-... holy fuck,” Jefferson mutters, staring wide-eyed at Chris. He waits for the repulsion that will follow shortly after, but instead, Jefferson only shakes his head, like a dog shaking water off its back, and scoots slowly across the couch, until he’s sitting right next to him. “Can I… can I hold you, Chris? Would that help you feel better?”
Chris nods, numbly, and Jefferson’s arms are warm around him. He tucks his chin under the sharp line of the older man’s jaw. He is skinnier than Jake is, he’s not as warm or as comforting, but he’s something. 
Jefferson is kind, and Chris knows - like Kauri knows, he thinks - that men are usually only kind if he’s good in a certain way.
If I turn my head and kiss your neck, if I tilt my head just right, bite my lip, if I do all of it just right, will you be just like him? Are you just like him? Is everyone like him, in the end, or are they better, if you let them be?
If I wanted to be good for you, would you let me?
Chris doesn’t know the answer, but he knows something better - he knows he doesn’t want to try. He wants to just be Chris, who runs and taps and thinks about birds. He wants to be those things, he doesn’t want to be empty, or good, anymore.
Jake would be so proud of him-
He cuts the thought off before the tears can do more than threaten around the edges of his vision, and blinks them away.
“We’ll pay his bail as soon as they let us,” Jefferson says, softly, unaware of the battle raging inside Chris’s mind. “Both of them. They’ll be home before you know it. It’ll be okay, Chris. Now we can tell Nat we know, and we’re all in this together, right? We can help you guys out a little better this way. Okay?”
“Oh, okay,” Chris murmurs. There’s a sound he doesn’t understand at first from the kitchen, and Jefferson tenses up, tightening his arms around Chris, looking over. Just as Chris realizes that he heard was the scrape-squeak of the old hinges on the basement door, he hears a voice he knows very well.
“Oh, wow, that table is new,” Antoni says, muffled, and Chris is already twisting out of Jefferson’s arms, unfolding himself, Jake’s pillow dropping with a soft sound to the floor as he all but flings himself across the entryway and into the kitchen beyond it.
“Antoni! Antoni-antoni-ant-ant-ant-” Chris throws himself at the other man, who catches his balance just barely and lets out a startled, soft laugh. 
“Chris! Oh, thank God, you’re okay.” Antoni holds him and Chris breathes him in. He doesn’t smell like Jake but he still smells like safe to Chris. “You have been here the whole time? I’m so sorry, Chris, when we heard the door-”
“You, you you you you-” Chris can’t catch up to his mouth, his thoughts are whirling, and he drops his head onto Antoni’s shoulder lightly, once-twice-three-times, trying to soothe his jagged nerves, slow himself down. “You, you-you had to go, had to, I was still upstairs. Jake hid me, Jake kept me safe, Jake kept, he kept, kept me me me safe.”
“Good, good. I’m glad.” Antoni doesn’t react to the gentle tap of Chris’s forehead against his shoulder, only holds him tightly, looking towards the front door. “Where is he? Leila is still with Nine and Jenna. We haven’t heard anything, but…”
“Jake is, um.” Chris swallows and buries his face in Antoni’s neck. There’s a circular scar right there, where Antonis owner pressed cigarettes into his skin. He would say, Antoni says in counseling, while Chris pretends he’s not eavesdropping, to be his pretty ashtray. I was good at being an ashtray. I would like to be good at other things, now.
“He’s what, Chrisha?” Antoni goes very still. “He’s what-”
“He’s in jail,” Jefferson says from the doorway. Antoni raises his head, surprised, and the two men stare each other down. Antoni tightens his arms around Chris, sets his jaw. “He got arrested during the raid. I’m Jefferson, I live across the street.”
“He’s helping, Antoni,” Chris says, sliding his arms around Antoni’s waist, tapping fingers on his back, just to the right of his spine. “Everyone came, came over to help me.”
“Who is… everyone?” Antoni asks, but his arms relax, just a little. 
“The neighborhood,” Jefferson says, and moves into the kitchen. Antoni tenses again, his eyes locked on the man as he moves, slow like he’s trying not to spook them, to lean his back against the countertop and cross his arms. “No worries. We’re just here to help. We fixed up the house, they trashed it pretty hard. Kid was left behind. We figured one of us should stay with him ‘til Natalie and the other one get back.”
“Jake,” Chris says, softly. “And he’s coming, coming back for me. He, he promised, Antoni, he, he he he promised.”
“Jake wouldn’t break a promise to you, Chrisha. If he said he’ll come back, he will.” Antoni hesitates - there’s a long pause - and then he says, softly, “Thank you, Jefferson. We… we didn’t want to leave him, but-”
“Say no more.” Jefferson holds up one hand. “You’re a Boxie, too, right?”
Antoni’s lip twitches in a faint smile. “Is that what you call us?”
“Yep.” 
They lock eyes for another long moment, a tension Chris doesn’t understand in the air. He taps against Antoni’s ribcage and his back, seeking out the comfort in it, the certainty of the motion. 
“I am.” Antoni inclines his head, just a little. “A… Boxie. Do you know when Jake and Natalie will come back?”
“I’m going to the jail to pick ‘em up tomorrow, I hope,” Jefferson says.
There’s another long silence. Chris doesn’t like long silences, and he leans up on his tiptoes so he can whisper in Antoni’s ear. “He’s, he’s nice.”
“I can see that,” Antoni replies, tilting his head slightly, that dry smile still on his face. “Are you safe with him, Chrisha?”
Jefferson tenses, eyes narrowing, but he doesn’t try to argue. He waits, and lets Chris try to calm his mind enough to come up with an honest answer.
“I think, um, I think-think-think so,” Chris says. He wants to nuzzle into Antoni’s neck just to be pushed away, but he pushes down the urge. “Hey, um, hey Antoni? Antoni can I tell you, you something? Can, can, can I tell, can I tell you-”
“Of course, Chrisha.”
“Today I, I, I thought of my Sir, I thought of him, of Sir, to-today.” 
“Yeah?” Antoni’s voice is carefully steady and neutral, but Chris can read the unhappiness in it. Antoni never thinks of his own owner, when he isn’t in counseling or having nightmares. “What did you think about him?”
“I hate him,” Chris whispers into Antoni’s ear, fiercely, with real conviction. “I hate him so, so, so much.”
Antoni huffs out a silent laugh, gives Chris a tight squeeze. “We’ll have to tell Jake when he gets back, hm?”
“He’ll be, do you, do you think he’ll be be be proud of me?”
“He is always proud of you, Chrisha. We all are. But he will be proud of this.”
“Hey,” Jefferson interrupts. His belt buckle flashes, reflects the kitchen light. “Um. Can I ask… when he says ‘my Sir’... does he, uh, mean-... what I think he means? Like a weird… uh, S-E-X thing? Because that kid can’t be of age, right?”
“All pets are of legal consenting age at time of signing,” Antoni and Chris intone together, instantly, memorized words in robotic voices.
“Jesus Christ,” Jefferson says, eyes wide. “Is that a yes? Because-”
“I’m eighteen,” Chris says, firmly. “I’m, um, I’m I’m I’m eighteen.”
“It means exactly what you think it means.” Antoni sighs. “How much do you know about us? The, um… Boxies?”
“Not much. Just that it’s wrong as shit and fucked up.” Jefferson frowns. “Do I need to sit down, if I ask you to tell me more?”
Antoni keeps one arm around Chris, holding him tightly around the waist. Jefferson is watching them, watching Chris press instinctively into Antoni’s side and stay there. Chris understands that Jefferson is reading Chris, seeing him in a whole new way than he had before.
They think we’re whores, that’s all, Kauri says heavily some nights, when he’s low and he can’t go see his friend he calls on the phone. Or when they’ve had a fight again. They don’t get that we didn’t want to be, it wasn’t our choice.
Jefferson looks like he might… understand, that Chris doesn’t want to be.
“If Chris says I should tell you, I will. But we’re not supposed to talk about it to anyone.”
“Am I gonna wanna shoot whoever the fuck this ‘Sir’ guy is if you tell me?”
A pause. “Probably.”
“Then I’ll take a seat.” Jefferson flops down into one of the new kitchen chairs. “All right, Antoni. Let’s talk. What exactly are we gonna be circling around to protect you from?”
Antoni takes a breath, hugs Chris close, and then nods and moves to sit, as well. He stares Jefferson in the eyes for a long, long moment, and then folds his hands in front of himself as Chris sits next to him, scooting his own chair until his knee is touching Antoni’s, tapping on the table, finger-twist-tap-tap-tap.
“They will tell you we signed up for this,” Antoni says, heavily.
“I’m eighteen,” Chris says quickly, automatic. “I signed, signed, signed up for, for for for for-to be, um, to be this.”
“They teach us we signed up for this,” Antoni continues. Jefferson’s eyes are on Chris’s tapping fingers, but he doesn’t say anything. “But we didn’t.” Antoni hesitates, then rolls his long sleeve up to his elbow on the right side, showing Jefferson a line of perfectly placed circular burn scars that go from just beneath his palm to the crease inside his elbow. “Do you think I signed up for this?”
Jefferson sits back, staring. Then he slowly raises his eyes. “Uh. Fuck no. Nobody could ever-”
“This was only pain,” Antoni says, rolling his sleeve back down. “Chris - those like him - survive far worse. They tell us in training that what people like Chris survive is nothing, but I know… I know better. There was one in my home, too. I know better.”
Chris bounces in his seat, avoiding Jefferson’s eyes, feeling the heat rise in his face. 
“What did Chris survive?” Jefferson asks, voice dropping. He sounds like Jake - angry and deep-voiced. Chris closes his eyes and pretends Jake is here right now with him. Jake will be home soon. “What did-... I know he said about his age, but… is he lying?”
“He was taught to lie. We are all taught to lie.”
“You didn’t answer the first question. What did Chris survive?”
Antoni clears his throat, swallows. Chris’s tapping speeds up, imperceptibly. “... do you know the designations? Do you know what a Romantic is?”
Jefferson is silent for a long time, and then slams his hand flat down on the table so hard Chris jumps, jerking back and away with a soft surprised cry, and Antoni puts his arms around him again to keep him where he is. “You have got to be fucking kidding-... shit. Fuck. I… I need a minute. I just. What kind of fucking piece of shit-... You’re telling me that kid was-... that he ran away from-”
“I am telling you,” Antoni says quietly. “Exactly that.”
Jefferson shoves himself to his feet wordlessly, stalks out of the house, slams the new front door behind himself so hard it rattles in the frame. Chris stares, wide-eyed, after him.
“Did, did, did I, did I mess up, did I say-say, say say-... was, was I bad, Antoni? Was, was I, was I bad-”
“No, Chrisha. Natalie always says more people would help us if they knew.” Antoni sighs. “Now he knows. Can I make you some lunch?”
“There’s, um, still some, some-some-some pizza, so we-”
“Pizza? Why is there pizza?”
“Um.” Chris tries on a small smile, and to his relief, Antoni returns it. “Um. So, so, so when you asked, um, about the-the neighborhood?”
“Yeah?”
“The, um, the the the neighborhood… bought me pizza.”
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sdottkrames · 4 years ago
Text
A Spoonful of Sugar
A Percabeth Fic
@comfortember prompt 13: Baking
Summary: Percy and Annabeth discover a sweet way to cope with their nightmares.
Notes: This fic was definitely inspired by this art by @viria. Thank you for the inspiration, lovely!
I know there has been a lot of discourse about Viria’s art and the skin tones she chose for Percy and Annabeth. I just liked how cute Percy looked in an apron with all kinds of batter on his face, and the sweet kiss from Annabeth, so I’m not trying to make any kind of statement, alright? Please only positive comments and such; no discourse! 💜 thank you! I love you all!
Read on AO3: Here
It started at camp, after Gaea had been defeated. They were there for a few weeks to help clean up, patch up campers, figure out relationships with their new, Roman cousins. 
The Greek demigods invite their Roman pseudo siblings to join them at their tables for dinner, and give them all tours of the camp. Reyna is given Praetorship again, her actions forgiven in the face of her heroism. Things are going surprisingly well, and despite the gravity of what they had all faced, it’s the most relaxed everyone has felt in a long while.
Then night falls.
Percy wakes up, a scream in his throat, his hand fumbling for riptide instinctively before he realizes where he is.
His chest heaves as he tries to get enough air to clear his head and get the smell of Tartarus out of his nose. The light from the fountain his father gave him is comforting, but not enough. His skin itches, the walls are too close, the cabin too quiet...he needs to get out. 
He decides to go to the lake. As he pulls on a sweatshirt, he feels something in the pocket and remembers that someone (one of the Demeter kids who’d taken up baking, he thinks) had given him a brownie earlier that day. He shrugs and quietly closes the door behind himself. 
Sneaking past the harpies isn’t nearly as scary to Percy anymore, however, his heart does stutter a little when he realizes the docks at the lake aren’t vacant like he’d expected, his hand automatically reaching for the pen in his pocket. But then he recognizes the blonde princess curls.
“Hey,” he says, abandoning his flip flops and sitting down next to her, his toes almost touching the water.
“Hey.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me either.”
They fall silent.
There are moments that words don’t reach; luckily, they don’t need words. The brush of Annabeth���s shoulder tells Percy that he’s not alone. And when he puts his arm around her, she knows it means thank you and I’m here for you, too.
Wordlessly, he pulls out the brownie and offers her half as he holds her close, and the quiet moment stretches on for almost an infinity. Just the moon, a brownie, and two broken demigods.
***
Months later, Percy startles awake again, but it isn’t his own panic that’s awoken him this time. Annabeth’s hand thumps his chest as she moves sharply in bed, her eyes moving wildly under her closed eyelids.
They’re in Percy’s mom’s apartment now. After that tearful reunion, nobody was keen to be separated again that summer, and Sally was perfectly happy to let Percy and Annabeth share a bed with the promise of no funny business and an open door (much to Percy’s embarrassment). 
Percy is especially grateful for that as he battles his own nightmares. Annabeth is the quickest way for him to calm down, and he is equally grateful that he can return the favor.
“Annabeth,” he calls, running a finger gently down her cheek. “Annabeth, wake up, wise girl. It’s just a dream.”
Although the nightmares aren’t getting any easier, coming back from them seems to be. She wakes up pretty quickly, and Percy holds her to him the way he knows she loves best. 
“I can’t go back to sleep,” she whispers after a little while. 
Percy hums. “Want to go raid the kitchen?” he suggests, remembering the brownie.
Annabeth nods after a moment, and slowly disentangles herself from his arms and the sheets, and they slip out of his room and into the small kitchen down the hall. 
The soft light and the cold floor beneath her bare feet are strangely calming, and Annabeth lets out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She leans against the counter and watches as Percy moves about the kitchen, cupboards opening and closing softly as he looks for something to eat. She lets herself be calmed by the sight of him, breathing, alive, and here. With her.
Percy finds the blue cookies his mom made earlier, and fills two glasses with milk to go with them. Annabeth smiles gratefully at him when he hands her her portion.
They sit together, quietly eating their midnight snack (well, 3 AM snack, according to the small clock on the microwave). Annabeth hums contentedly as the chocolate hits her tongue. Something about homemade chocolate chip cookies finds its way into her very soul and comforts even the farthest, darkest part. 
And thus, a tradition is born. Nightmares mean brownies. Or cookies. Or cake. Whatever they can get their hands on, so long as it’s sweet. When they get married and buy their own apartment, they keep their kitchen well stocked with baked goodies and supplies to make whatever they’re in the mood for.
One morning, after a particularly rough night, Percy wakes up before Annabeth and sneaks out of the bed, careful not to disturb his wife. 
Once in the kitchen, he pulls out the flour, eggs, blueberries, baking powder, everything he needs to make blueberry muffins, which had been Annabeth’s go to nightmare sweet for the last month.
Except this time as he beat the batter, he flicked his wrist stronger than he intended, and a poof of flour flies up and delicately coats his face. 
Groaning and wiping the powder out of his eyes, Percy pushes on and ends up with a blue batter that tastes good, and carefully pours it into the muffin tins. Or most of it, at least. There are sticky blue globs on his cheek and definitely some in his hair, but it’s worth it for muffins!
Percy had planned to take breakfast to Annabeth, but as he cleans up, he feels a kiss on his cheek. He smiles, but it changes into a protest as Annabeth sticks her tongue out and licks some batter off his face.
“That’s gross, Annabeth!” he groans, but pulls her into a hug. “I was hoping to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”
“You’re sweet, Percy. Thank you. The batter tastes delicious, but are you sure you managed to get any in the oven?” 
“Oh, ye of little faith,” Percy teases as he sneaks his hand into the bowl on the counter behind Annabeth’s back, and swipes some of the blue batter. With a grin, he wipes it onto Annabeth's nose. 
She shrieks and jumps away, and pretty soon they’re chasing each other through their little apartment, yelling and laughing and making a general mess of everything. The promise of hot muffins and cold milk pull them from their antics, and they eventually make their way back to the kitchen, chests heaving slightly, breathless grins wide on their faces. Percy throws his arm around Annabeth’s shoulder and kisses her head. She sighs and leans into him, her brief spurt of energy fading as she allows Percy to lead her to the table.
They are quiet as they eat the muffins, and Annabeth’s eyes continue to droop as she lets out a yawn.
“Well, good thing it’s a Saturday. Why don’t you go shower, get the blue goop off of yourself, and we’ll spend a lazy day in bed.”
“No!” she says quickly, her eyes wide. She drops her eyes as she plays with the edge of the tablecloth, the flower one Percy’s mom had given them when they moved in together. “I just don’t want to go back to bed,” she finally says, her voice soft. Percy understands.
“Well, wise girl, how about we hang out in the living room instead?”
Annabeth nods at that, looking grateful.
While Annabeth showers, Percy gathers the softest blanket they own and Annabeth’s stuffed Owl, Archimedes. A stack of DVDs, and a pile of Annabeth’s favorite comfort foods are soon added as well.
When she emerges, Annabeth is wearing a soft pair of grey sweatpants and an even softer smile. “Looks perfect. You’re turn to use the shower. You’re not getting any blue goop on my owl!”
“You better not start without me!” Percy calls over his shoulder as he stands and heads toward the bathroom, dropping a kiss to her head as he passes.
When he returns, Annabeth is on the couch, her knees up against her chest, holding tightly to Archimedes. Percy joins her, and Annabeth squishes up against his side
“It was a combination,” she says after a few beats of silence. Percy doesn’t need to ask her what she’s talking about. “They kept going from Tartarus to Kronos to waking up and you being gone.” 
Percy can feel her breathing hitch as she is thrust all over again into the worst moments of their lives.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and his heart aches when her shoulders begin to shake, and he can’t say or do more to help. It wouldn’t make a difference. So, he just squeezes her closer, and she comes willingly, unfurling a little and shifting so she’s practically sitting in his lap. 
“Percy, I’m so tired,” she says, her voice thick with tears.
There really are no words, so Percy tightens his hold, willing the love that he has for her and the peace he wishes he could give her to wrap around her heart and calm her down. Slowly, slowly, slowly, her shoulders still and he can feel her breaths come more even. He doesn’t let go until she sits up slightly, her eyes and cheeks red.
Percy gestures to the pile of movies to distract her. “It’s your turn to pick.”
Annabeth decides on Lady and the Tramp, and they snuggle in to watch the movie. She digs into the Reece’s Percy added from the stash he knows she keeps in the nightstand (she hoards them like they’re ambrosia) and the two relax into each other, the soft light from the TV and the sweet music creating a bubble of temporary peace that neither of them want to leave.
It isn’t perfect. There will still be many days with nightmares and tears, but they know that they will always have each other and their nightmare dessert tradition to make it a little sweeter.
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ye4gerz · 5 years ago
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reflections; baekhyun
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you knew better than to give permission to a demon.
++ genre: supernatural au! angst; smut[teasing, fingering, oral, degradation, choking and bondage.]
++ word count: 5k
++ pairs: demon!baekhyun x fem reader [mentions of jongdae & sehun.]
++ song: jekyll – exo
++ warnings: mentions of ghosts, demons, possession, ouija boards.
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You were freezing. The tips of your fingers were almost numb, nearly shaking in fear. You couldn’t figure out exactly why you were scared, but you knew you were somewhere bad. It was pitch black and not a person in sight. You can hear your own breath, footsteps and gulps.
“Where am I? How did I get here?” You asked yourself, trying to look for any source of light.
Before you knew it, your body was trembling. The freezing cold was no longer and instead the burning sensation of heat became apparent. Within a second, you felt your body go into flames; only there weren’t any. Burns so bad, so hot, you couldn’t control yourself from the bloody screams exiting your mouth.
“Somebody! Please help me! Please!” You yell out for help, only to get your echo in response.
You fall to your knees, hugging your burning body. Tears streaming down your face. How did you manage to get here? Was this possibly a nightmare? Sleep paralysis? Anything but reality.
“Give me permission,” you heard a faint whisper.
It was an unfamiliar voice. A voice that left your mind in a frenzy. It was smooth, practically mesmerizing. It was angelic.
“W-What?” You thought to yourself, only screams still leaving your body, in utter agony.
“If you want it to stop, give me permission. Give me your permission. I can stop it,” the whisper spoke, but very slowly. “Would you like me to stop it? Only I can save you. I want to help you,” it continued.
“YES!” You managed to scream.
You want it to stop. You want to wake up. You want to be able to feel your body again. This couldn’t be real, it was too much of a fantasy. It was almost out of a really bad horror movie. If this was a dream, it was possibly the worst dream you have ever had.
“Your wish is my command, princess,” it speaks, much more confident than before. You can almost hear the smirk behind it.
Then you woke up.
Nearly bolting out of your bed, you rapidly bring your hands up to your face. You were alive, you were finally okay. Your chest was uncontrollably rising from the fear you just experienced.
After taking a few minutes to catch your breath, you turn your head to your clock.
“Shit, I’m late!” You hop out your bed, getting ready for work, your nightmare suddenly slipping out of your memory.
Being at work was a drag. It wasn’t the best job, but it paid the bills. An office job is what it was, a very long and boring office job. A mutual friend of yours offered you the secretary position, knowing you were in need of something.
“Wow, someone looks dead,” Jongdae hovers over your desk, handing over your daily coffee. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asked, pushing up his glasses.
“Barely. I keep having weird dreams. I think I’m stressing myself out too much,” you sigh, taking a sip of your coffee.
“No way, it’s because of your haunted apartment. Seriously it’s been four months since you’ve moved in and nothing but weird things have been happening to you,” he turns around, grabbing a nearby chair and sitting right next to you.
“Goodness Dae, when are you going to give it up with the whole ghost thing? They aren’t even real,” you roll your eyes.
“Ever since you settled in, weird stuff has been happening to you. How can you explain all of your random bruises? The headaches? The fact you’re always dizzy now. You lost all energy within the same four months,” he continues.
“I’m no doctor, but I’m sure anyone can tell you that’s called iron deficiency, my friend,” you sarcastically say. “Not to mention I’ve been working more hours and still trying to adjust from the move.”
“It’s sketchy is what it is,” he raises his brow.
“Whatever, I’m tired of this conversation. I have calls to make, so if you could excuse me before we both get in trouble, thank youuu,” you say, pushing his chair as he rolls away to the following desk.
Haunted, pft, you laugh at the mere thought. Ghosts and ghouls just aren’t a thing, pure fiction is what it was in your mind. Besides, no records show of anyone ever dying in your apartment. There’s no evidence at all.
So why has it been eating you up all day.
Lunch came around and you couldn’t help but head over to Jongdae’s cubicle. This time accompanied him was your coworker, Sehun.
“Hey guys,” you side smile, giving them a little wave.
“Hey, I was just telling Sehun about your nightmares and guess what?!” He jumps in excitement.
Rolling your eyes, you sigh, “what?”
“Ghosts,” Sehun snaps his fingers at you.
“Even he agrees!” Jongdae exclaims, relieved someone finally sees eye to eye with him.
“Okay okay, so what if it is a ghost? How the hell do I get rid of it?” You fold your arms.
The men look at each other, clueless. They probably didn’t think they would get this far in convincing you of the paranormal, but Sehun knew what to say, as so he thought.
“Talk to it, tell it to leave you alone,” he says.
“Are you crazy?! You want me to talk to a possible angry spirit and tell it to leave me alone? Yeah, no, I’m not ready to get dragged by my feet tonight,” you scoff.
He rolls his eyes, “well do you have any better ideas?”
“I’ve got one,” Jongdae chimes in. “There’s this game that people use to talk to spirits. Some type of board game, uh, ouija board, I believe. You see, you talk to the spirit and it spells out words on the board, but there’s rules to it. You need to follow by the rules accordingly or else bad things can happen, very bad things.”
“And you want me to go buy this scary board?” Raising your brows, eyeing him as if he’s the craziest man on earth.
“You can borrow mine. My cousins and I used it once as a party gag and nothing bad happened to us. It’s still in my car, I can go get it and leave it on your desk before you clock out. Like I said, if you follow the rules, you’ll be completely safe, I swear,” Your friend promises.
“You sure about this one? My idea seemed a lot less intense than that, geez,” Sehun gives a concerned look at Jongdae.
“Well, what else do you wanna do? We aren’t professionals at this,” Jongdae sighs, helpless.
“Fine, I’ll do it,” you say.
Their heads turn at you, gawking at your answer. You? Of all people? They couldn’t believe you were completely giving into their ideas, especially Jongdae.
Jongdae has been your best friend since your freshman year in college. You guys knew everything about each other and have irreplaceable memories. He knew your weaknesses, what made you tick and your turn offs. It’s a given, you’re a stubborn person. He always knew you as one. Never in his life would he expect you to agree to something so fast.
“You said as long as I follow the instructions I’ll be safe, correct? Unlike you fools, I follow by the book. If nothing happens then I was right and there’s no such thing as ghosts,” you comply.
“And if we’re right? If you do talk to this ghost?” Sehun twists the cap of his pen out of nervousness, leaning against your friends cubicle.
“Then I’ll kindly ask it to leave and let you guys know you were right. Fair enough?” Without letting them continue a word, you nod and turn your back, ready to walk away.
“Remember to have it by my desk before we leave,” is the last thing you say to them before you exit the floor.
Night comes and you’re all alone. You had finally left work and as promised, it was there. You were having second thoughts, as you looked up more about the board. Jongdae said it was harmless if you were responsible yet your research says else wise. It’s bad enough the car ride back home was eerie. It was hard trying to get rid of the knot in your stomach while the board sat right next to you, mocking you.
You’re desperate. You had enough of these occurrences. You had enough of the screams, the fear… the torture. Although you didn’t want to admit it, deep down you wanted to hear the voice you once heard.
It was so intoxicating, all day you tried your best to remember it. Playing it’s words over and over again in your head. You were certainly drawn to it and itched a thought about his intentions. Surely with a voice as sweet as his you would be safe, right?
“Just one night with him,” you told yourself.
One night to figure out what was going on in this apartment. One night to meet him, talk to him. What were these feelings? Your sudden need to be near him? You missed him more than ever. It’s as if he left a curse on you. If he had marked his spot on you.
Your fear grew into excitement, realizing it was just after midnight. You got comfortable in your place, setting up the candles and board in your room. You begged with each second that he would appear tonight. You want to see him. You want to touch him and confirm if he’s real.
The closer it gets to three am, the more you ache for him. Tingles on the tips of your fingers, they remind you of the burning sensation, only pleasurable.
When you were finally ready, you settle down the planchette, picking up the instructions.
RULE ONE: Do Not Play Alone.
Well great, here you are already breaking the first rule.
RULE TWO: Do Not Play During Devils Hour (Three AM).
Check. It was only a few minutes after midnight.
RULE THREE: Do Not Take Your Hands Off The Planchette Without Saying Goodbye First.
RULE FOUR: Be respectful
After going through more rules, you were a bit annoyed over how much time it took. You knew there were a few rules, but not this many. You predicted most of them, but the warning left you uneasy.
WARNING: Do NOT Accept A Demons Invitation. This Can Easily Cause A Possession. Demons Will Try To Convince You To Give Up Your Soul. If Met With A Demon, End The Game Immediately And Call Your Local Church.
Your throat suddenly went dry. Demonic possessions? That’s a thing?! You presumed those were only in the movies and books. The knot in your stomach makes a reappearance, causing your mind to fog up.
You don’t have a demon in your apartment. It’s just a silly ghost who’s trapped and somehow attached to you. It’s a friendly spirit who’s still mourning over their death. You kept telling yourself these things until the knot subsided. You knew you needed to get this over and done with.
Taking a deep breath you put your fingers on the planchette. You eyed the board closely, making sure nothing could interfere in the way.
“I invite the spirit who haunts me to communicate,” you start speaking out loud.
“You’ve been haunting me for quite some time now. I welcome you to come talk to me, are you here right now?” You ask, a shaky breath escaping your lips.
Everything was silent. Nothing was moving. No one was in sight.
Being frustrated you cleared your throat and asked again, “I said, are you here with me? Are you listening?”
Before a blink of an eye your fingers move the planchette to yes.
You couldn’t believe your eyes. Could it have been nerves? There must be a scientific explanation to this. Your body must be nervous. You’re only trying to feed yourself the answers you want.
Moving your hands back to the center of the board, you clear your throat. “Thank you for responding to me. I’m sure you know my name by now, could you spell out your name for me?” you ask.
It took a while but a few seconds later your hands were moving up to ‘yes’. This time the movements were slower, it was losing energy. It came back down to the middle and started slowly but surely spelling out its name.
You read along with it, “B-A-E-K…”
“Baek..?” you whisper to yourself.
“H-Y-U-N,” it spells.
“Baekhyun. Your name is Baekhyun? That’s a nice name for a spirit,” you anxiously chuckle, trying your best not to upset the paranormal force in your home.
“Why are you haunting me, Baekhyun? Did I upset you when I moved in?” You question.
This time it moves to no. You raise a brow in confusion but it continues to spell out a word. A word you were not expecting.
Lonely.
“You’re a lonely ghost? Oh, so my company brings you comfort,” you nod along to yourself, trying to make of the current situation.
“You see, Baekhyun, I don’t know if it’s because you’re sad or perhaps upset, but you’ve been causing me these nightmares. I’ve woken up with bruises and have seen visions so graphic, were these all you?” you bravely ask.
This time you didn’t get an answer. You waited a while and even asked again, but nothing. You decide to skip the question and continue with a different one.
“Baekhyun, how old are you?” you managed to choke out in fear.
As said in the rules, never ask a spirit for its age. It was another rule you decided to break. You wanted to break the tension and had forgotten what was forbidden versus what wasn’t.
You hoped for anything, a young man, even an old man. Anything but zero, for zero indicates a demon.
RULE SEVEN: Do Not Ask For The Spirits Age. If Said Spirit Gives You Information Of Their Age, Beware. If A Spirit Says They Are Zero Years Old, End The Game Immediately. Demons Are Unborn Creatures, Never Made With A Human Body, Therefore They Are Zero.
Frustrated you repeat yourself, “I’ll ask again, how old are you, Baekhyun?”
Suddenly your planchette landed where you prayed it wouldn’t.
Zero.
You gasped, accidentally pushing away the board and everything along with it.
“No! No!” You gather everything, frantically placing the planchette back on the board.
Tears were trickling down your face as you repeated and screamed, “Goodbye! Goodbye! Thank you and goodb–”
All your candles go out. Yelling in fear you make your way to your lamp, being able to give you the light you need.
You closed the portal, why is this happening?
“I said goodbye!” you yell, looking around, making sure you were safe.
“I thought you missed me?” The voice announces, finally making itself present again.
“I’m here to protect you. If you let me, I can guard you,” it says.
“Someone.. Please help me…” You weep.
The lightbulb in your room bursts, the darkness clouding your vision. You felt like you were in your nightmare all over again and you couldn’t take it.
“Just say the word and I’ll be there to protect you. Give me access, princess.”
“YES! YES! YES!” You screamed, hands covering your ears and your eyes shut tight from anything that could possibly be around you.
Within less than a second, your light goes back on. It flickers as if it never popped. Your home is silent, and the candles seem to be lit again, as if nothing ever happened.
You step back from the board, not wanting to touch it. You continued backwards, as far as you can, until you bumped into something– someone.
Turning around, you face a man who had suddenly appeared. You wanted to scream, you really did. You wanted to cry for help and run out your apartment without a doubt. However, looking at this man, embracing all his beauties, made you want to stay.
He was tall and slightly built. His hair was white and his skin was pale. His eyes were a warm shade of brown and his lips were plumped and pink. His cheeks were slightly flushed and he was dressed in a white button up, tucked into some black pants. His dress shoes completed the look, giving him an extra bit of height.
He was perfect.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long…” The man who belongs to the beautiful face, speaks. “For years I have guarded over you. For years I’ve watched you grow and become stronger. Your soul, it’s so pure, so beautiful. It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” his plushed lips pout.
“W-What are you? What do you want?” you ask under your breath, not even sure if he could hear you.
“I’m your angel. You’ve been hurt by a demon, haven’t you, beautiful? I’m Baekhyun, a guardian angel,” he smiles at you, his eyes sparkling.
Confused, you shake your head, “No, you told me you were a demon.”
“They’re trying to confuse you. Demons are known to lie as much as they can to try to take a humans soul. They knew I was looking after you and tried to use my name to manipulate you. It’s okay now, they shouldn’t be back anytime soon, I’ve got you,” he reassures.
He was charming yet sort of nerdy, innocent almost. He made you feel safe. You can't bring yourself to fully trust him though, but you knew you were falling for his mask.
“Why should I trust you? How do I know you aren’t lying to me?” You question the man in front of you.
“If an angel lies, they turn to dust. It is taught in heaven, if an angel goes against their word of god, they perish,” he licks his lips, bringing himself closer to you.
His mouth was slowly approaching your ear, You could feel his breath tickling your neck sending goosebumps all over your body. He was daringly close to you.
“And I’m still here, baby. Waiting for you… Wanting you…” he whispers, leaving you slightly gasping.
“Why me?” you mumble.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Watching you for so long, I fell in love with you. You’re everything I’ve ever needed…” his mouth got closer and slowly aimed for your neck.
Softly, he kissed your neck. Placing sweet little kisses on all your weak spots. Something in you didn’t want to move. Something in you liked it, you wanted more.
His tongue lapped over your sensitive spot, a soft moan escaping your mouth.
“You sound so beautiful. I can’t believe you can finally see me. I just want to make you feel good,” he removes his lips from your neck and looks into your eyes.
His eyes twinkle. They’re soft and warm. The most calming shade of brown. He looks at you with passion, care and love.
“May I? May I have the honors and make you feel good tonight?” He asks, this time almost anxiously.
It could’ve been his eyes, it could’ve been his beauty, it could’ve been his pure talent at kissing, but you without a doubt caved in and agreed.
“Yes, please,” you beg.
He smiles, holding you closer to him. Your chests were pressed up against each other as he leaned down slowly, his lips meeting with yours.
You froze, still adjusting to the situation. Your tension starting to fade as his hands roamed your body. Your lips were moving perfectly together. His lips were soft and he tasted sweet like candy. His tongue slightly pokes at yours, wanting for more. You were stubborn, as always, but eventually gave in and gave him access.
He was such a great kisser.
He knew what he was doing and the effect it had on you. He continued until he needed more, bringing his knee in between your legs, earning a moan from you. The friction felt so euphoric.
Here you are, in the middle of your room, about to have sex with an angel. It was impossible to process, especially with how well he was making you feel. A wet patch forming at the center of your underwear.
“Baekhyun…” you moan, wishing for more.
“Is this what you want? You want me, don’t you?” He snickers.
“Y-Yes,” You lean your head back as he starts marking your neck again.
“Say it,” he demands.
It was quiet. Too shy and too occupied in the pleasure, you completely tune him out.
He moves his knee away, leaving you begging.
“I want you to say it,” he repeats.
“I want you, Baekhyun. Please, I want you to fuck me. I want you right now,” you plea.
His fingers trailing up against your thighs, teasing slowly. His slender fingers nearly poking the center of your pajama shorts.
“Where do you want me, baby? Be more detailed for me, will you love?” He focuses his eyes on yours, enjoying the view of you completely helpless.
“Baekhyun… Please.. I need you, I need you inside me now or else I’ll go crazy. Can you please just–” he interrupts you.
He makes out with you again, this time rough. He picks you up and throws you on the bed. He unbuttons his top, chuckling to himself. He had you right where he wanted you.
You were in the middle of taking off your shirt when he completely undressed his top half. Your eyes ate up every single detail of him. His body was beautiful, not a mark in sight. He was toned, strong and perfect. He really is a gift from god, practically a sculpture.
“Like what you see, huh?” He smirks, helping undress the rest of you.
“You’re perfect,” you say, staring at him in awe.
“You’re even more perfect,” he responds, leaving kisses from your legs, working his way up in between your thighs.
“So fucking good,” he mumbles, his breath hitting against your weak spot, sending chills down your spine.
He felt your legs press against his head, you were needy for more. You wanted him more than anything else. For so long you felt you were missing something in your life. You questioned for so long why these things were happening, but now grateful for your savior. Whenever you needed him, he was there. Now this was his turn to erase all those scars from your memories. He wanted to heal you and appreciate your body.
When his tongue lightly licked your wetness you couldn’t help but hiss. Your hands tangled in his perfect silky hair as a reflex.
His tongue continues, this time adding pressure to your sensitive bud. He made sure to keep his eyes on you while his tongue fucked you, he never wanted to forget the look on your face as he ate you out. He was aware of his power, and he tried his best to keep his eyes pure.
“Baekhyun!” You screamed, grinding yourself against his mouth.
His lips were completely soaked of your essence and it turned you on even more. His tongue was entering your body in ways no other person has done. It definitely couldn’t compare, especially once he brought his two slender fingers back up, pushing them inside you, as his mouth was still at it.
Your other hand was clawing at the bedsheets. His movements were faster, harder. He groaned against you, needing you more than anything else. He can tell you were close from how messy your panting was getting, jumbling up all your words.
“So needy for me, you love having my fingers inside you, fucking you, huh baby?” He edges you almost in full bliss.
“Fuck yes, you feel so good, Baek,” You scream, almost reaching your high, until he completely stopped.
You look up at him; you were a mess. Your eyes gaze with confusion and want. His smirk never leaves, only his hands traveling down to his pants and removing the rest of his clothes.
“You want me? Well you’re gonna get me,” Baekhyun grabs his hardened length, entering you without a warning.
You arch your back in response, curses escaping under your breath. He laughed while he watched you struggle to adjust to his size, it turned him on even more. His pace was slow, allowing you to get used to the friction.
“You’re so tight me for me baby, just how I like them,” He grunts, picking up speed as he fucks you deep into your bed.
You were too focused on the pleasure to even choke out a response. He was hitting all your sensitive spots and areas you haven’t explored yet. For a moment his hands stopped holding you down, quickly reaching over for his tossed shirt, and tying up your hands to your headboard.
“Is this okay?” He asks.
“Fucking amazing,” you grind against his dick, receiving a moan out of him.
You were restricted, wanting to touch him and feel every part of him. Not wanting to admit it, the new position felt amazing. It made you crave him more, wanting him to meet your highs together. Your hips snapped up and moved along with his thrusts.
“You’re all mine, I’m gonna use you so well,” he says, hands reaching to your neck, choking you at a reasonable point. It wasn’t too hard nor too soft, still managing to breathe, but boy, did it feel good.
Unable to speak, whines left your parted lips as you were near reaching your limit. He knew you were close as he felt you tightening up against his dick, causing him to almost reach his high as well.
“I know you want to cum,” Baekhyun pants, grinning while his length continues to pound in you. “Do it, cum all over my dick, baby. Show me how good I fuck a weak little human like you,” he grits through his teeth.
With those words and a couple of more thrusts, he leaves you in a state of euphoria. You chant his name as loud as possible, the heels of your feet digging deep into his lower back, bringing him closer inside of you. Struggling with your hands tied up, your back arches one last time and he uses this opportunity to reach his release, spewing his remains inside of you.
“Fuck!” He curses under his breath, positive his hold on your waist will leave bruises later.
The two of you lay there, catching your breath and enjoying each other's embrace. He remains inside of your wetness, trying to keep his mess deep in you.
Reaching up to meet eye to eye, he smiles, “you’re wonderful.”
A sincere smile appears on your exhausted face, “you made me feel wonderful.”
An innocent giggle left his mouth, “is it okay if we stay like this for the night? I promise to clean you up and attend to your wrists in this morning. I just really like being this close to you, I’ve never been this close to a human before.”
Your eyes widen in shock; was this the first time he had done this? Clearly he would’ve disappeared if he was lying. Would he get in trouble in heaven? Would you get in trouble? Is this considered a threat to the demons now that Baekhyun is with you?
“Will everything be okay though? Won’t you get in trouble for this?” You ask.
He shakes his head, “even if it means having to spend the rest of my being in hell, I’ll do anything to be one with you.”
A sadden smile comes across your face. Who knew a lonely game with an ouija board would end up in angel sex? You certainly weren’t ever a believer, but this changed so much for you. This was the feeling you’ve been yearning for.
Suddenly you let out a yawn, and your eyes become heavy. You could barely keep your eyes open, closing them slightly and humming and when you felt Baekhyun kissing your cheek. His mouth near your ears once again, he chuckles, only this time it wasn’t innocently.
“Rest your eyes, you’ve had a very long day,” his chuckles turn into evil laughs; “you honestly should’ve known better than to give yourself to a lying no good demon like me, princess.”
Everything started to hit you. The smirks, chuckles and pet names. It was all a lie. It was him. It was the same creature who’s been taunting you, making your life a living hell. The same creature who scared you, leaving you marked up on multiple occasions. The same creature who got his way into your mind and controlled everything.
Your body went into complete shock, trying with all your might to open your eyes, but they’re practically glued shut. Your arms were still restricted and no matter how much you moved, they wouldn’t let go. You tried kicking the demonic creature hovering over you, only to realize he was no longer there. He was gone.
Where the hell could he have possibly went?
“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!” You cry out, hoping someone would hear and come to your rescue.
“It’s too late,” he whispers, “you’re all mine.”
With that, your body came to a full stop. You were one hundred percent frozen. Your entire body started growing in pain. Your mind was going frantic. You tried to scream some more, but was unable to.
He was taking over your body as his own.
The burning sensation became present, tears sliding down your cheek, still unable to move any part of you. It was pitch black once again and you were utterly hopeless. You managed to let this happen, you fell for his tricks. You fell for him, so you gave up and let him.
The pain all came to a stop, your mind entirely blank. You can talk again, you can finally pull yourself out of your restraint. A smirk grows on your face, however you don’t want to smirk. You have no control over your expressions. You wanna scream, frown, jump up and get some help.
You sit up straight, all knowledge of your identity completely vanished. You are no longer apparent as your new soul sits up and opens its new black eyes.
Baekhyun’s new eyes.
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kacychase · 4 years ago
Text
After the reawakening [NevraxMC]
[Commentary (the same as in the other posts): Please understand that all of this has my heart inserted into this after paying too much for a game dear to me, yet disappointing. Beemov, I hate to bother you as it seems to be a waste of time, but please… Listen to your readers, at least to the demographic you aim for and their constructive criticism. Your game has so much potential, it could be so much more, and it breaks my heart that it’s not. Please, for our sake… We have been loyal to you for so long. This fanfic is here because I loved the original story and characters – with its flaws all included, and ultimately, we love your characters (at least the original), and just want a game that gives them justice, that doesn’t make us feel used more so than enjoying a story]
Warnings: cheesy, so damn cheesy, level of extra layers of cheese, ALSO CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR BOTH ORIGINS AND NEW ERA SEASONS
Works: Ezarel | Nevra (this one) | Valkyon | Leiftan (Valkyon and Leiftan in the works)
When I chose you
It felt right.
The way you held me tight,
The way you would brighten
Up my day would
Bring sparkles in your eyes
That I wouldn’t be able to forget.
When things went south,
When people silenced my mouth,
When you let me down,
It took my time to count on you again.
Yet, here I stand, in your arms,
In your scent and your comfort,
In your loving embrace, forever.
Crystal or not, you were an ever-lasting
believer in me when I was in need.
Who could blame you for leaving,
for your sacrifice or getting
Over me?
In the end, I love you, still,
And whether you come back or not,
All of the memories, the emotions
Will never escape them,
Even if Mnemosyne’s spell
Would compel me to do so.
Nothing would make me get over you.
Nothing would make me want to lose you again.
My sacrifice should not be in vain,
And your happiness is what I need to
See as best for you.
Yet… Just so you know,
I love you still, and have not forgotten.
[Nevra]
You are so close to me, so incredibly close. Why must it have been 7 years ever since we have been a couple for you? I don’t even want to imagine my favorite, caring vampire must have gone through. Ever since my soul left my body... I swore to myself to keep you in the back of my mind, to at least try and fight to get out.
But maybe, I’m too late.
This will only result in me approaching him I assume. I can already feel the excitement bubbling up, countering the shock of the whole experience.
As I lay on the bed inside the infirmary, my thoughts seem to spiral by themselves. “How are you dealing with all of this?” I hear Ewelein’s concerned voice reach me, and I look at her with an appreciative look. Just like an olde sister, she examines me with a gaze that makes me shudder in guilt and heartache - she didn’t think that I were to ever come back.
“It’s so stange to see everything so different now that I woke up. The last thing I remember has been seven years ago for you,” I mutter, a little chill running down my spine again, and I look down. “But I’m glad that you’re all alive. The sacrifice was worth it.” Gathering the last amounts of strength, I smile at her in a way that I can’t describe. If I were to compare it to a graspable situation, it would be that I slept in a coma for 7 years.
“I can’t wait to see everyone who’s here again,” I mumble, and Huang Hua, sitting next to us and holding Ewelein’s hand, beams one of her enthusiastic smiles at me. “I can imagine. Chrome, Karenn and Karuto surely would love to see you! I also have to introduce you to the rest of the guard!” Hearing the second part of the sentence, for some reason, I feel a twist in my gut.
How could I get used to seeing the new parts of the guard right now? Currently, I’m still not entirely ready to confront reality yet. Looking at Huang Hua, she must have noticed my expression as she says: “... But maybe, we should take one step at a time. How about the two of us take a walk?” I nod with a relieved smile, looking at Ewelein, I can see a look of adoration towards Huang Hua.
They for sure make a cute couple: “Thanks. Ewe must be busy anyway,” I grin back and remark: “Congratulations to the two of you. I was rooting for you!” The two of them start laughing, and Ewe gives me a smack on the forearm.
“Ow!”
“We weren’t even an item back then! But I’m glad you didn’t tell anyone, everyone seemed surprised,” Ewe half scolds me, half thanks me for being a reliable best friend. Why of course, both of them should know by now, which I don’t refrain from telling them. However, before any of them can respond, a new infirmary worker calls Ewelein for help. With that, the three of us separate, not without me receiving a reprimanding to please pay a visit again this evening from my favorite nurse.
Looking at Huang Hua with a brow up, she nods to guide me to the hall, and once we are out, she suddenly pulls out a dark robe. “I have to tell you a few things before we take the round. Would you please wear this?”
And so, the round begins. Feeling the change and prosperity around the guads, all the exterior seems so lively - the parks, the refugium, the place of the cherry tree... Where Valkyon’s presence would probably rest if he could. Huang Hua explains it all to me - Ezarel and Nevra would be informed to gather in the crystal room immediately. Although Ezarel is rather hard to catch as he only is part-time assisting to the guard, Nevra should be here tonight... She explains to me the unnerving fact that Leiftan and I are the ones who have been gone into history books with our second sacrifice. It feels so strange how none of the ones still alive - or in Valkyon’s case, sacrificed as well - would never receive any credit. How is that any fair to the ones surviving the whole ordeal?
Disturbed of the two statues, I can’t help but sigh. “The two of you do look quite beautiful in these, don’t you think?” Huang Hua tries to lift the situation. But seeing how everything is so different, I can only nod. Suddenly, the pictures of the war that, only to me, seems to be fresh in my mind. Having realized that I won’t see quite a few of my friends anymore, at least I can assure that the rest of them are safe and sound with the life path they chose.
But, the two men that I consider closest family... I wish I could see them right now, especially a specific black-haired vampire that I fell for, seemingly 7 years ago. What has become of this place?
“He’s going to be back from a mission this evening. Until then, I will make an official announcement for the ones you’d surely want to reunite with. I will inform the other members of the light guard, too. That way, you can get to know them! Not until you’ve seen some familiar faces... Surely, that will help you into the situation,” she mumbles thoughtfully, and I’m eternally grateful for that. I can’t wait to see Nevra and hear him talk about what has happened. All I am are questions... But what I want to do, to tell him, to do with him is endless.
Now that I have awakened and been given the chance to live, I won’t let it slide. I just have to do it. Sure, it’s interesting to see what the new people are like, how the guard works, how I might help them... But I need to check on the person important to me.
What he might be like? Would he like seeing me? How has he been doing the past years? Well, I hope... But how should he be? The last thing I saw was how Ezarel left the guard not long after, adding Miiko and Kero. And, ultimately, he was left alone with the responsibility of the shadow guard, taking care of Krenn and Chrome in his own ways, and so much more...
Goodness. How much I want to show him my support right now... My heart itches to see him.
When Huang Hua is nice enough to grant me access to my old bedroom - which has been renovated in a surprisingly flashy way - I just try to get into my bed. Man, this is a lot to digest, but the rest I have taken makes me question whether I am supposed to do something while waiting. Huang Hua has informed me that people view Leiftan and me as holy figures, so should I risk a walk? Thinking of seeing my loved ones this evening, I realize that the time can’t come any sooner.
But realizing that I need to at least eat, I quickly rush to the cantine, trying to at least see how Karuto is doing. Sneaking a peak into how full the cantine, I can already see him serving the other people amazing dishes. Wow, and his clothing looks far more sophisticated! Thinking that Feng Zifu is around, I let out a small chuckle.
But peaking around like this, I don’t only see that this cantine is incredibly full, but that the two people who found me today are sitting there. As open-minded and curious as I might be, I realize that I don’t want to explain myself now, when I can’t even explain it myself. Quietly, I thank Huang Hua for informing Ez and Nev first.
But when I turn around to ask Ewe, Chrome or Karenn to order for me, I notice someone entering the hall. Something twists itself in my gut as I see him. My beautiful, now a little aged vampire no longer sports his eyepatch, and I’m glad that he doesn’t - he seems to have realized that he doesn’t need it. He looks so different, yet in his own way - his hair is now more mid-part, a little longer, his clothing still has purple, black and red accents, yet leave more of his physique to the imagination. But, and ultimately the source of my sickly feeling, I see him flirting with a girl - a beautiful woman I have never seen before.
He seems to have moved on, it seems.
Shocked, yet not entirely surprised, he and his date advance towards me, but I can’t move. For me, the whole scene is like a world crumbling in front of me... At least, that’s how my heart feels. Nevra unavoidably bumps into me.
“Hey, watch where you’re going.”
I wouldn’t have expected those to be the first words he has for me. But hey, they don’t count when he doesn’t know, right?
Knowing that it wouldn’t be fair to drop the information when it has been seven years, I just mumble, a shivery tone in my voice: “Sorry.”
Not even trying to turn around, I decidedly hurry out of the caféteria, hoping to find Ewe for the growling of my stomach before heading to my room.
~~~~~~~~~~~--------------~°~--------------~~~~~~~~~~~
Hours later, I am too exhausted to actually consider things well. Sorting my thoughts while laying on my bed, restlessly, I thought that I should probably read throught the information of the libary once I’m officially registered.
I’ve been lucky that Karenn and Chrome have caught me on my way out of the storage room, and ever since, they gave me a very secret update of their own - including their long relationship. They really are cute together, and I’m glad that they will accompany me to the meeting today - apparently not in the crystal room anymore.
It’s still an hour to go though, so I realize that I might as well visit the crystal room. Maybe, if I focused, I would get answers?
Noticing that I might as well find my alone time there, I leave the cloak in my room, taking the risk to finally be able to breathe. Once I enter the room, I take in all the changes of this place. It’s eerie to look at the thing I have spent my time in for years. Occasionally, I have seen people visit Leiftan and me, mostly to talk to me and address the crystal. It has been gut-wrenching, but I notice that these things stopped when I fell asleep...
Deep in thoughts, I approach the crystal, putting a hand softly on the big shard, once broken in the disastrous war. Knowing that I made the right decision soothes me, and the fact that my loved ones, this world, all of the people I have met survived it and could live in peace for years brings tears to my eyes. We made it. All of us together managed to save the world.
At this point, should I be mad at Nevra for moving on? I love him, my heart still aches, and of course, I shouldn’t assume the situation before communicating with him about the issue. But... I have realized that I went into this whole ordeal without considering how he must have felt, how much time he has spent without me... Taking a deep breath, all I can do is stand next to the crystal, the presence of it soothing me in an odd way. Now, without it, I can finally move, face the world, and not be imprisoned by it’s limitations anymore. So why am I scared now? What is supposed to halt me so much in my tracks?
“Gardienne?! Y-you’re alive?”
That voice. For a second I thought I must have imagined it as I have not heard any steps coming. But who am I kidding? Nevra is the head of the Shadow Guard - or at least, he used to be. My stomach seems to have solidified into stone by it’s heaviness as I turn around and see the same frame I have seen earlier today. The fact that he’s alone relieves me a little.
“I woke up today. Hey, Nevra,” I smile at him, but it must have looked as his shocked expression now shows worry. His eyes get bigger as he agonizingly slowly makes his steps towards me. I hear him absentmindedly mutter about Huang Hua and the meeting - he might not have known what it is about.
“Have I bumped into you today?” he asked again, his voice trembling just as much as mine as he comes to halt a meter away from me. He’s hitting the nail in the head as I take a breath and nod.
Just then, his face hardens, as if he doesn’t know what to do. I ache for his hug, for him saying that none of the things I’ve seen today are true. How much I wish for all of this to be a bad dream I can’t measure, but all about his behavior tells me enough. This is no time for wishing impossible things, a thing I have learned early in this world.
“It’s okay, Nevra. I won’t pressure you, it’s been y-years after all,” I mumble when all of a sudden, a lump builds up in my throat. This is no time to break down! I’m in no position to fault him for today!
“Yes,” he utters under his breath, then exhaling as he ruffles his hair with his hand, “I’m sorry that you had to see that first. I wish I could have told you before.” I hate the fact that my eyes appear glassy now. After all that I have experienced, THIS is what makes me weak? Keep your cool, woman.
“Again, it’s fine. You wouldn’t have expected to see me back there. But... how did you know it was me?” I just ask him to change the topic, I don’t want to dwell on the thought that my only love has moved on from me with other people, might do things that we have done for a longer time than necessary.
“I-I just knew. It was your voice, Gardienne. I felt it when I bumped into you. I am sorry for treating you the way I did today,” Nevra rambles while looking at his feet. It still feels painfully distant between us. Trying to approach him, I take my arm from the crystal and approach him. “It’s okay.”
That way, we stand in front of each other, taking in the silence. He doesn’t approach me, and I don’t know if I can.
“It’s been seven years since I left. I can’t fault you for moving on. I-I guess it doesn’t quite go into my head,” I admit silently, smiling sadly at him. His face appears bitter when I say that, as if something doesn’t sit right with him. Laying a hand on my shoulder, I see him take in a shaky breath.
Mumbling something I can’t quite understand, I don’t have enough time to ask him what it was as he continues, his voice now up in volume: “I’m glad you’re alive.”
That sentence is weird as I tilt my head at him. I wish I could just say ‘I’m also glad you’re alive?’ but I know that it doesn’t help the situation a lot.
“Are you okay, Nevra?”
Looking at him in more detail, I can see how deep his circles under his eyes go. Does he get enough sleep? And he doesn’t smile remotely as much as he used to. With that, my heart squeezes even more.
“Well, how am I supposed to react to someone who I have thought to be-” his voice cracks up, as if restraining himself to say the word, “to never come back. And here you are, all of a sudden, looking as if nothing happened between the war and now. A lot has changed Gardienne. I have changed. The H.Q. changed!” His words cut deep, and I don’t know how to react to them.
But it is clear that this is all real, and I can feel how my feet are too heavy to carry me. Sitting myself to the steps that thank goodness, they have kept inside the crystal room, I sigh deeply. Yet, I find the strength to turn around to him.
“Then... can we maybe catch up? I...,” gathering my words is harder than I thought, “I wish I could have been there, but I want to see what happened around here.”
His dark eyes muster me, one of them I know to be blind. Looking at it, I wonder how Shai’tan is doing. I smile at the thought of possibly meeting her again, trying to avoid thinking about the fate of my own companion.
He hesitantly puts a hand on his scarred part of his face, catching my stare. Do I see a blush on his cheeks?
“I don’t know, Gardienne,” he says, using my full name, “I have to get used to seeing you around. I...” He breaks off his thought process as he presses his lips together. He’s shivering.
Suddenly, I realize how hurt his eyes look, how much he’s frozen in place. This is definitely hard for him. I don’t want him to relive things how they were. It’s like a switch flipped, and I understand - I remind him of the things that happened. It’s no more me that he sees, he sees the war and the hard times after it.
“I mourned you. I am seeing that damn statue of you next to the cherry tree next to this traitor’s figure all the time,” he starts, and it feels like he’s breaking down. Holy crap. What am I supposed to do?? My whole body aches to hug him, to ease his burden. But will I worsen things?
“I tried to wait for you, to tell myself that you’d need me when you’re back. I tried to be there, I visited your place every day in the first months. Then... the chances became lower and lower. I thought that you were lost forever,” Nevra explains with a shivering voice, his eyes tearing up.
This is enough. Nobody makes the man I love hurt like this. Was this how he felt after the potion of Mnemosyne endeavor rolled along?
Quickly, I stand up from the steps and erase the space between us, my arms finding their way around him immediately. To my shock, his arms just press me against him even harder - it feels like he holds something fragile that might be gone.
“I-I found my different ways to cope. I couldn’t stand being lonely, not getting over you. Those women would help me forget you, even if it’s just for a little while-” With his whiny voice, I know that I should ignore the pang in my chest.
“All of this shit is cruel. To you, to me, to Valkyon, to Ezarel,” he whispers with bitterness. And it is the rage I can understand - I would have felt it too. All of this being seven years ago, I wonder how he must have felt to keep these emotions deep inside him.
For a solid few silent minutes, both of us just standing there, when tears also come out of my eyes. It’s indescribable what is happening. All of the emotions, no matter how long, eat us up. The war, our separation, the past seven years have taken a toll on us in a way. Nobody would be able to understand this moment, and I don’t plan to have this be a matter of discussion. We are here for each other, and I silently rest one of my hands in his hair.
Man, as much as I’m crying, I have missed him, his arms around me, us together. Out of impulse, I whisper, even if I don’t know if it’s true: “I’m here now. And I will do everything to stay with you for a while.”
When we head to the crystal room, we decide not to speak of it. I will give him time to process, but I have hope in us. We can get through it, and I will be there for him all the way - and I have no doubt that he will be there for me, too.
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kpop---scenarios · 5 years ago
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Teacher's Pet
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This is part of the OT12 incubus collab! Other writers in the collab include: @ninibears-erigom​ @kwanisms​ @mint-yooxgi​ @k-pop-boy-scenarios​ @broccoli-channie-soup​ @chan-yolo​ @mylifeinhopeworld​ @biaswreckingfics​ @gamerwoo​ @baekwell--tart​
Warning: Unprotected sex, dream fucking. 
Word count: 2.5k 
A/N: I struggled alot with writing this..  please be kind lol 
"..and when you're writing this paper, please don't copy and paste from any sites. I will know what is and what isn't plagiarized" Suho says to his class before the classroom door is ripped open to reveal a heavy breathing..you. Although he sees you every night in your dreams and other times in person, he still loves to see you in person. You look even more beautiful in real life than you do in your dreams. As the two of you keep eye contact, he thinks about the first time he had met you, in the beginning of the summer. A few months ago he had been dragged out by his friends to a bar, O'Reilly's. He hadn't wanted to go out that night, but Baekhyun had a weird way of making him laugh enough until he got annoyed and just agreed to go out to get him to stop. Suho sat in the booth with his friends, sipping on his third drink of the night as his eyes roamed the large diverse group of people s lounging around the bar, and that's when he noticed you. You stood there looking extremely annoyed and unimpressed at whatever story the man who had cornered you was telling. He could read your lips with ease and chuckled when you told him for the fourth time that you were not interested. The man paid no mind to what you were saying, he was so wrapped up in his own story and laughing at his own lame jokes as you rolled your eyes. When he finally stopped talking, you tried to walk away from him, not wanting to be totally rude but he wouldn't let you go. His hand gripped your arm firmly as he pulled you back to stand in front of him. You looked pissed off as he tried to explain to you that just walking away was very rude. Suho slipped out of his seat, casually walking towards the bar, near where you and the man stood, overhearing your conversation a little better. "No what's rude is ignoring someone when they tell you their not interested." You snap, trying to walk away again. "So is walking away from someone again, when they're having a conversation with you" the man spits, yanking your arm to bring you back again. "Stop trying to fucking walk away from me." "Excuse me? I am not interested. Why can't you get that through your thick skull?" You snip before brushing past him, again. Suho couldn't understand the mind frame of this man, and why he continued to try to win you over when you so clearly wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. "Listen here you little bitch." The man snarls through gritted teeth, squeezing your arm. "I'm fucking tired of being polite and you brushing me off, thinking your better than me. What's a guy gotta do to get a little fucking action?" "Let go of me and take the fucking hint." You yell, attempting to yank your arm away from the man but his hold on you was far too tight. "Hah. You think you're so much better than me don't you?" He asks, staring at you with intense eyes. "I believe she told you she's not interested, and to let her go." You and the man hear a growl from behind you. "Back off, buddy." The man snaps, turning his head slightly and looking over his shoulder. "How about you back off, buddy" Suho snaps. "Are you hard of hearing? Let her go." The man's grip on you loosens quickly as he turns to face the man whose saved you. "And what are you going to do about it?"   "Are you sure you'd like to find out?" Suho asks, a sinister smile on his face as he eyes turn black in a flash before resuming to their regular colour. The man stares at Suho, his mouth gaping open before he stumbles away, tripping over his own feet in the process of trying to escape. All you could do was stand there, staring at the man who saved you from what you knew would have turned out to be an extremely terrible situation. You're at a loss for words for a second as you look him over thoroughly. He's older than you but not by a lot, extremely handsome, brown hair, brown eyes and a smile that could melt anyone, including you. "You okay?" He asks. "I am now. Thank you." You respond, your eyes never leaving his face. "I don't know how I can thank you enough, that could have ended very badly. Can I buy you a drink?" You smile. "Sure." The man chuckles. "I'm Suho." He says introducing himself. "Y/N. Nice to meet you, Suho" you smile as you slide onto a bar stool. "What can I get you?" The bartender asks. The next few hours are spent telling stories and jokes while the two of you laugh over your drinks. Looking at the clock behind the bar, you let out a small gasp, not having realized how late it had actually gotten. "Shit. I'm sorry I have to go" you say, rushing off your chair and gathering your belongings. Before you leave, you pull out your phone and you see 23 missed calls and texts from your now angry boyfriend. Suho had hoped you were going to ask for his number so he could see you again, it would be much easier to find you that way. "My boyfriend is pissed." You groan as you call the bartender over so you can quickly pay for your drinks. "Boyfriend?" Suho asks, his eyebrow raised. All night you hadn't mentioned a single word about a boyfriend and now there suddenly was one. Although, that didn't really matter to Suho. Would you be the first girl he had met and became a little obsessed with who had a boyfriend? Yes. But did it make him even more excited? Absolutely. "Yes, boyfriend. His name is Mark." You smile. "Thanks for tonight. And saving me earlier. I really appreciate it." "No worries" Suho says forcing a smile. "Maybe I'll see you around." You say before turning to walk away. Suho quickly threw some money on the counter, paying for whatever before he grabbed his coat to follow you down the street. He smiled to himself as he watched you switch from walking to a small run and then back to walking again. Suho really hadn't planned on following anyone home tonight, until he had seen you earlier, and had partially gotten to know you. He liked you, he enjoyed spending time with you and he knew he would enjoy it even more as you slept. ** For the first few weeks all Suho did was watch you. He figured out your routine, your boyfriends routine, what you liked and disliked. It was honestly a little unnerved at himself. He had never taken this much time before coming into a dream and seducing his prey, which was something he really had always enjoyed. He was beyond excited to have found a new pet, but now he was aching for a release. You had been on his mind for far too long now and he was itching to take you. He wanted to hear your moans, listen to you cumming from his cock and hopefully, if all went well, have your boyfriend hear you cry out his name causing a much needed break up between you and him. Suho had never dreamt about the possibility of changing someone to be like him, entrap unsuspecting, vulnerable people with him but you would make the perfect partner for him. The two of you ruling together, and as much as he didnt want to mentally induce or manipulate you, ge would if you decided against being with him. He wanted you to choose to be with him, he wanted you to want it but he wasn't opposed to simply persuading you to doing what he wanted. That night, weeks after the two of you had met, Suho snuck into your room, standing on your side of your bed as you softly snored while your soon to be ex boyfriend's arm was draped across your stomach. Suho watched you for a few moments before kneeling at your bedside, tracing his fingers along the side of your face before leaning forward, and placing a small kiss against your temple, inhaling deeply, taking in your scent. He smiled as he watched you, focusing all his energy on you, and in a moment he disappears into your mind, turning your once happy dream to an extremely different direction. You look around, noticing you're in a bar, the same one you had had a few drinks in a few weeks ago, where the man, Suho had come to your rescue. You stood there, the entire place empty, not a soul in sight. "Hello?" You called out with no answer. Standing there for a few more seconds, you decide to leave, but before your hand could reach the door knob you hear a chuckle. Turning around you see the man from the bar, Suho behind the bar. "Taking off already?" He asks with a smirk on his face. "I thought no one was here" you say. "Can I get you a drink?" He asks. Nodding your head you walk over to the bar and pull out a stool. "Vodka and cranberry" you tell him. You watch him as he makes your drink, unable to take your eyes off of him. Suho finishes your drink, sliding it towards you. As you take a sip he emerges from behind the bar walking behind where you're seated. "Can I get you anything else?" He whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His hands reach up landing on your shoulders, giving them a small squeeze. "You seem very tense" he whispers. "I am" you admit, closing your eyes as Suho massaged your shoulders, slowly moving his hands down your arms. "You know, I can make you feel extremely relaxed" he moans, turning you around in the chair to face him. As you looked into his eyes, they turned black. "Do you want me to help you, baby?" He asks. You were unable to speak, only nod your head. He smiled as he leaned into you, placing his lips on yours, tilting your chin up with his finger tips. Suho kneels down, spreading your legs wide as you still sat on the stool. The skirt you're wearing rides up, exposing your already needy pussy. "Mhm, no panties?" He smirks pulling you forward a bit. Suho spreads your lips with his fingers before leaning his head forward, licking a long strip up your already wet pussy. You throw your head back with a gasp as your hands grip tightly onto the edge of the stool. "Delicious" Suho murmurs before diving back in, sucking on your clit. "Fuck" you gasp as he moves from sucking on your clit to flicking it with the tip of his tongue. As Suho continues to work, building your orgasm up, your hands grip the stool tighter with each lick and suck until you're almost at your peak. "I'm going to cum" you cry out. Suho abruptly stops, removing his head from between your legs. "First time you cum will be all over my cock" he growls, standing up to unzip his pants. He pulls down his faded jeans just enough to let his fully erect cock spring free. You gasp at the length and thickness of it, your mouth beginning to drool. Suho grabs your hand to take you off the stool and turns you around pressing your front against the bar. He spreads your legs and lubes himself up before lining himself up with your entrance. Without warning he thrusts himself into you fully, giving you no chance of adjusting to his size as he stretches you out completely. "Oh my god" you scream as he pulls out before harshly thrusting himself back inside of you. Soho's hands grip your hips tightly, digging his cold fingertips into your hips as he fucks you, hard. "Shit baby girl" he groans, continuing with his thrusts. "You're so tight" A cold chill courses through your body as his frigid hands hold you tighter. "You're mine now baby." You groans into your ear. "You do as I say, when I say." "Yes, yes, I'm all yours" you cry. "Who do you belong to?" He asks, continuing to fuck you. "You. I belong to you" you moan. "Good girl. Now play with your clit" he demands. You reach your hands in between your legs, rubbing the throbbing bud that needs release. Your orgasm doesn't take long to build up again, but it remains right on the brink of throwing you over the edge. "Do you need to cum, baby?" He moans into your ear. "Yes, please" you cry. "Cum" he demands. As the words left his mouth, your orgasm seizes through your body, causing your knees to buckle. Suho holds you up tightly as he rams his cock into you, eagerly chasing his own high. Within seconds his orgasm explodes through him, shuddering as he releases his extremely hot cum inside of you, coating your walls. The two of you are still for a moment as you both catch your breath. Before he pulls out of you he leans forward, whispering one more thing into your ear. "When you wake up, end your relationship with that boyfriend of yours" he says before pulling himself out of you and disappearing. Seconds later you wake up trying to catch your breath, your pussy sore and wet, and the sudden urge to end things with your boyfriend who is no longer next to you. "Morning babe" Mark says as he walks out of the bathroom. "Get out. I'm done." You snap, brushing past him to the bathroom. A few hours later you had finally convinced him you were being serious about breaking up with him, and he had finally packed his belongings and left. You felt satisfied and relieved, like this was how it was supposed to work out. As the summer came to an end and the first day of classes came, you had been feeling a little down. Almost like something had been missing from your life, until you ran into your class. You ripped open the door to the classroom and your eyes landed directly on Suho and you began to remember. You remembered your dreams involving him, being praised by him for doing as he tells you, his cock filling you up every night. He smiles at you, nodding his head towards the desks, telling you to sit down. You do as you're told, sitting directly in the front, eyes never leaving him as he finishes talking about the first paper due in his class. You know as long as you continue to do whatever he wants you to in and out of the classroom, he'll never stop fucking you or giving you the world, or fail you. Sometimes being teachers pet has it's perks.
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sloppy-butcher · 4 years ago
Text
Angel of Music
The Wraith (Philip Ojomo) x Survivor!Reader 
ok so
I’m probably very late to this, like 3 years late, but whatever just hear me out
My smooth brain has been going crazy lately for Phantom of the Opera and i just realized how similar Wraith’s “Angel of Music” cosmetic is to the drama (i mean, i known it is inspired by it but like). 
so now with this glorious revelation, me and the monkeys in my head have come up with the brilliant idea to write a Phantom of the Opera inspired Wraith fic. gods speed you funky lil dudes. 
note;; this is going to be very OOC for him. I’m am going to model wraith to be more like the phantom he is dressed as, thus expect a more devilish, seductive creature rather than the tree-man we already know. also, he can talk now. maybe sing
literally no one asked for this
word count: 4110
TW: Death and blood. Stalking and obsession. Musicals 
This place is an undeniable and indisputable nightmare. An eternal night that twists and corrupts all with shadows and despair. From the repetitive game of cat and mouse that almost always ended in death to the ever-present feeling of eternal damnation, there is absolutely nothing inherently good about the Fog. There wasn’t even light. As if stuck in the haze of an ecstasy-trip, time bleeds into itself seeming to stretch on forever yet also never move an inch. A true paradox.
And to make matters somehow even worse, you had started to hear voices in your head.
It first spoke to you on one of your regular trips into the woods. Scavenging for tools and items that could be used in trials, you hummed to yourself. Oblivious to the world around you, lost to the music playing in your head. It was easier to forget the horrors of the night and give in to the melody of some old song than to ponder on dangers yet to come. You found personal peace in singing, drowning out all your earthly worries by the power of your own imagination. The fog swirled and swelled with the rise and fall of your song and out in the darkness the voice made its presence known. ‘Sing louder.’ You obliged willingly.
Initially, you had chalked it up to your heightened sense of purpose and inner monologue being superimposed so as to form its own being. You would command yourself in third person, detaching and driving your body as your thoughts spoke. Intuition personified. This theory made sense; endless panic often causes those to develop the most peculiar of coping mechanisms. In passing conversations with the other trapped souls you realized that they too had their quirks; one had a rubber band that he snapped on his wrist whenever scared, another rubbed dirty into her palms to stop them from sweating and so on. Unfortunately, you had developed the most bizarre habit out of everyone else. You only started to question the voice’s true intention when its orders became more sinister.
‘Leave him.’ It spoke over your shoulder referring to your teammate dying on hook, an open exit gate before you. ‘Run away.’ It commanded to your half-way through healing another when you spotted the killer fast approaching. All these new and selfish instructions, although ensuring your survival, left you feeling hollow inside. You escaped but at what cost? The lives of your friends. If it really was your true self talking to you then, by default, did that mean you were as evil as the voice was? No! You plead. You were a good person. By God you were human, and the weight of all the death and suffering inflicted by your obedience to the voice began to crush your conscience. You couldn’t even look the others in the eyes anymore.
You couldn’t just ignore the voice either. When it spoke there seemed to be an almost physical force behind it, driving it and giving it momentum. Sometimes it even felt as if someone was standing right behind you reaching out and instructing you with their hand as they whispered in your ear. There was also the fact that you drew strange comfort from the voice. In this desert place, so drained of softness and angry with hate, you depended on what little gentleness the voice offered you.  
It even occurred to you that maybe, the voice wasn’t even yours - as in it belonged to someone else entirely. An unknown watcher, a ghost or phantom, who somehow had a deep connection to you, a one-way mode of communication. A large part of you wanted desperately to believe that who were just overreacting and that it was all just in your head. Regardless, you just couldn’t shake the feeling.
For what felt like days now the voice had been uncharacteristically silent. You noticed it in your first ever trial with the killer that could go invisible with the toll of his bell. There was no guidance, no consoling vector to take your hand and help you through your problems. You had been left alone like a new-born chick, blindly searching for the love and warmth of a guardian. Feeling completely lost, the panic that sat on your chest was overwhelming in that trial. But oddly enough, no matter what you did wrong, how many times you blew up a generator or accidentally revealed your position, the killer never disturbed you. You didn’t even see him until the end where, standing in the exit gate looking in on the realm, you spotted the figure. Bright eyes gleamed back, a bloody weapon in his hands. He allowed you a moment longer to gawk at him before ringing his bell and disappearing into the night.
Even after escaping the voice didn’t return. Your ears yearned for the sound of it, hungry for its filling noise. You sat alone at the campfire, eyes staring unblinking into the mesmerizing flames. It was so lonely, the panic and unrest mixing into a dangerous concoction in your head. There was nothing good anymore. Why do you keep on trying? Perhaps it would be better if you just gave in already. You almost jumped out of your skin when, as if manifested by your desperate cry, the voice called.
‘Come.’ It sounded from the treeline, darkness bending and beckoning you into it. It didn’t feel real. Perhaps you were imagining it. ‘Come,’ It said again sensing your hesitation. You looked around at the other survivors none of which appeared to notice the disturbance. You faced the forest again, it opened to you like the mouth of a great fish. Your feet itched to run to it. There was a powerful pull and before long you followed it.
The woods were freezing, broken branches grabbing out as you passed them. Through all these adversaries, pushing past doubts and warranted skepticism, you kept your eyes focused ahead. Even with all the warning flags the voice had given you, the pure desperation you had to find anything even remotely kind lit the fire of will under your feet. Besides, what was the worst that could happen? You were dead either way. The trees swayed and whined as a tired wind blew through their crumbling leaves, oddly not even making a noise. As the voice continued to call, luring you away from the safety of other people and fire, you spotted something ahead of you. There just through the fog, like a lighthouse over a raging sea, was a light. It bobbed and sway and wondered away from you through the trees. It was hypnotizing to watch the light flicker deeper into the trees, your feet not needing motivation to follow.
The light and voice mingled in your head, overwhelming every sense until it felt like you were walking through a dream. Your pace was sluggish and sloppy, you couldn’t feel the ground anymore. Just as it seemed you’d never catch up to the light, it suddenly stopped, blinked a few times then popped out of existence. You went to its last location, looking around for any possible signs of anything to help you but instead found yourself completely surrounded by an all impressive mist. It danced through the trees creating unbreakable walls of wood and water. It felt wrong to be here, your head spin around for an exit which came to you in the form of an out-of-place stone archway.
The bright yellow of the stone contrasted brilliantly against the somber atmosphere it lived in. Your mind wasn’t your own as you unknowingly went to it. Beyond the mouth of madness lay a beast in wait, purring as he felt your impending arrival. Eagerness overtook him and slowly the wooden door creaked open to welcome you inside. The tunnel that lay behind was one lit by old candles tinting the world with a much-appreciated golden light. It stretched on for miles, leading down into the earth where, at the bottom drifting up to you like a breeze in a cave, the voice beckoned.
‘Come.’ You stepped inside. ‘Come to me.’ If, by some strange miracle, you could have stopped yourself for a brief moment from descending the tunnel, you might have noticed the voice’s odd word choice. You might have even noticed the person on the other end licking his lips and smiling. Walking as if through honey, you unhurriedly made your way to the yearning voice. Before long the warm light that had bathed you drew back its loving embrace and faded back to absolute darkness.
At the edge of the last candles reach was a room - so large and empty of light that it appeared to have no roof, no walls, no end. You couldn’t help but feel like you had walked into the lair, the most secret and quiet place, of a monster. You couldn't shake the feeling that you had passed the point of no return. The artificial night swallowed you whole; your eyes strained in the pitch black, your ears burning from the total silence save for your own beating heart. The shadows inspected you, looking you up and down while you were none the wiser. His eyes also ate you up, so pleased to have you alone that he let the moment slip into an uncomfortable length.
You wanted to speak, make your claim against whatever had brought you here. You could sense something out there just outside of your already limited view. But the silence held you tight in its suffocating grasp. You dared not even breath. You had to wait for him to make the first move.
“Bravo.” The voice called from somewhere behind you, startling you to the point of drawing a gasp. “Bravo! Bravissimo!” Someone started to clap. You could hear him stepping around you, his voice echoing endlessly around the room, impossibly loud and booming. Although there was something deeply unsettling about the voice, the only thing you could take from it was odd comfort. It was real. A person. A guardian Angel! You spun around on your heels desperate to see the source of your guidance however he managed to remain hidden in shadow. You swear you could hear him grin at your confusion.
“You listen well, my dear.” There was no denying it, it was the voice. Although only now, when it spoke so openly, did you notice that it was inherently male. So relieved with the news that you weren’t going completely mad with disembodied voices, you glazed over the other implications this reveal came with. If it wasn’t yourself than just who have you been talking to all this time? And, the more pressing matter, just who were you stuck with in the room.
The stranger claps again and moves around in the black, shuffling from one side of the room to the other and at times seeming to even be above you, looking down. “I am beyond impressed my dear.” The stranger smiled, unbeknownst to you getting closer with very advance. “Do you know where you are?” No reply. Honestly you had no clue. You had never been in this place before - it felt so detached, so different when compared to all the other realms you had grown accustomed to in the Fog.
“Hell.” The voice answered, purring like a cat with a trapped mouse, teasing it - relishing off its fear. “The deepest pit. And, what’s more, you came here all on your own free-will.” He moved again not content to stay in one spot for too long, trying to view you from every possible angle before he made his last move.
“Won’t you sing for me. My Angel of music. You know the one I mean.” His words hit you like a ton of bricks. A song? As you wracked your brain for whatever he could be referring to, a faint idea began to materialize right in the tip of your tongue. Words of a melody that you swear you had never heard before but still feel familiar with in your heart. The voice, it sang to you. How could you forget!  
“Every night I was there. Whispering my song to you in hopes that one day, you could join in with me.” That was true. Each time you dared to drift off to sleep, the voice would appear. He sang to you, gently and softly, talking into your ear to lull you safely away - only to wake hours later with no memory of the night before. Perhaps that is why you were always so attached to the voice, why its absence impacted you so deeply. There was a build of pressure behind you and suddenly he was there. The stranger towered over you without even looking, his chest pressed tight to your back. Exploring hands went down your arms and slowly brought them up like the two of you were about to start a dance. His head hung low to your ear, his breathing touching your exposed neck. He sucked in and exhaled meaningfully, taking in your smell and touch and your reaction to his closeness.
“Sing.” God, his voice was so smooth, demanding and rich. A sonorous tone that had never been shown to you before this. It shocked you to your core. He sighed again, one hand moving to caress your neck with the other holding your own hand. “Sing my Angel.” Up till now you were passive, sitting ideally in a dream-state as you let the stranger do as he wished. But now you wanted answers.
“Let me see you.” No answer came from the man be it verbal or physical. He remained completely unphased and unchanging.
“Sing.” He commanded again, no anger or annoyance in his tone only patience and hunger. He yearned for you to sing with him, to join in with his symphony. For too long has he gone silent, his soul dying along with his music. The bells no longer tolling and his music fading out like a lit match in the rain. When he found you, fallen like an angel right out of Heaven, humming alone to yourself, he felt the fire of passion ignite within him. You were perfect to him and now, you couldn’t resist him. You were defenseless, night having accustomed you to its unfurling beauty to the point that you were addicted to it – needed it, just as he did. There was no way either of you could go back now. You breathed into him, your nose filling with the smell of pine and smoke, and hesitantly after closing your eyes, you began to sing the words now burning hot in your head.
“Say you’ll share with me,” It wasn’t really singing, rather just breathless talking – a whisper that only the keenest of ears could hear. Regardless of what you sounded like; the stranger cherished every word that left your mouth. He started to shake, his hands holding on to you for support.
“One love, one lifetime.” He joined you now, singing as you did in a volume that only you could truly appreciate. His raspy, low-pitched voice mingling wonderfully with yours, sounding almost desperate to get the words out. Lips grazed your ear sending shivers down your spine.
“Say the word,” His hands tightened their grip as if to empathize his lyrics. “And I will follow you.”
“Say you love me.” Your combined voices bounced around the darkness stirring whatever creatures lay in hiding, your harmony compelling and immensely sorrowful. While a part of you faded into the song’s words, swaying and melting with the stranger content for once, something crawled into your head. The song was ending, and while you wished to stay forever in this blissful embrace, you demanded to know the face behind the voice. Your moment was coming.
“That’s all I ask of -” Slipping out his grasp at the moments climax, you spin around to finally lay your eyes on the stranger. He froze under your gaze, surprised by your sudden action. Looking up at an incredibly tall man, you felt your knees threaten to give out. Staring back were the glowing eyes of a killer, the very one that had, not long ago, tormented your friends. You couldn’t help but gasp and step away from him, breaking his hold on you. You inspected him as best you could in your lack of light, squinting your eyes as hard as you could but nothing in the darkness made itself known to you save for his unmistakable eyes. The stranger noticed your efforts and, fuming at your defiance to play along with him, raised a hand.
“You wish to disobey me? Fine!” The ground shook under foot, his shouting voice ricocheting off the rooms stone walls and sending the world into disarray. “Look at me Angel! In all my glory!” He snapped his fingers.
Suddenly your senses were overwhelmed by blinding white light. You flinched, shutting your eyes to the dramatic change in the room. When next you opened then you found the room to be hazed in familiar yellow candlelight. As if by magic, all candles had all be simultaneously lit. Your attention darted around like a trapped bird before resting on the man standing in front of you, his arms open and expression unreadable. Bathed in new light you could see him in immaculate detail.
Yes, it was the invisible killer, no doubt about it. But something was off about him. He looked different somehow; maybe it was his prim suit, navy fabric decorated with golden lace that fit his slender body snugly giving him a sense of proper and divinity. Behind him hung an extraordinary cape that fluttered in a non-existent breeze. On his face sat a white mask, crooked and dirtied from years of neglect which, in all honesty, covered little to none of his truly disfigured and burnt flesh.
Unparalleled fear began to rise in your chest. He was so tall, powerful and strange that it terrified you to be standing next to him. You stepped backwards, edging closer to the exit. The stranger’s eyes flickered. How could you fear him? He had never hurt you, Angel. All he has ever wanted was to be by your side, to never be lonely in the dark again. He has given you no reason to distrust him, he has never shown you his monstrous side. Yet still you shrunk away from his touch, choosing rather silent suffering than a lifetime of music with him. He felt something break inside him.
You saw his hand twitch, his off-center head bobbing as his labored breathing intensified. He took a small step forward and you replied by taking a large one back. He halted and so did you. Next to the broken thing that rattled around in his bones, he heard something else. A beating heart, weak and faint but somehow still alive. It moved and leaped, reaching out for you to take it and hold. Just standing in your company he heard music start to swell in his ears. You had listened to him once before, maybe he could get you to again.
The stranger's head dropped; through the lumpy cape you saw his shoulders deflate. What was he doing? Playing possum so as to catch you off guard? Whatever it was, you didn’t let the tension ease out your legs. You waited for his next move, ready to run if he tried anything suspicious. You didn't expect the sound of his voice to suddenly start singing again.
“Say you’ll share with me,” He sang his solo, his voice that of an airy murmur as if afraid to sing alone. Every word he sang clung to your ears, kissing your heart and mind with a complex sorrow. Your guard started to halter.
“One love. One lifetime.” He paused, swallowing the lump building in his throat warning to overflow and render him speechless.
“Lead me,” He raised a cautious eye to find you still waiting, offering him the chance to try coax you closer. A fist clutched his chest in an attempt to sooth his aching heart. “Save me from my solitude.” He was certain he was crying but he couldn’t feel the tears; you had his undivided attention.
“Say you want me here...” He faltered here, hand itching to reach out and grab you. “Beside you.”  The stranger could barely form audible words anymore, so slurred and choked up that you unknowingly leaned forward to try hear him better. 
“Anywhere you go,” He tried again, begging you to close the distance and join him. It was heartbreaking, this phantom, this person and the way he sang to you, each syllable dripping with an ocean of unimaginable pain and beastly hopelessness. It was infectious really; you could feel his sadness take over your heart shaking it in an iron grasp. Miserable eyes glared you down as you took the smallest step forward. “Let me go too.”
He didn’t continue - he couldn’t. The horrors of the whispering darkness and this god-awful place left him near-drained. Everything pushed down on him, suffocating him until he thought he was going to pass out. He could only keep his eyes on you. Blurry from tears he held onto your figure like your were a buoy in a raging sea, his only safety, his air. The stranger heaved from trying to maintain his composure. Finally the curtain fell and you gave in. 
Your foot falls were the only sounds that broke the silence in the room. You approached him with little to no conflict in your mind. Yes - he was scary. Yes - he was a monster. But the way he looked at you now, the way he sang and spoke; no killer would beg to be loved the way he did. It was like he was afraid of the dark, of being alone, of being condemned to an existence of pitiful silence. You craned your neck to look up at him, sucking back the wreckage still wavering just outside his control. 
“Pitiful creature of darkness,” The words tumbled out of your mouth, through teeth unfazed by their possible repercussion. You were speaking from your heart. A small hand connects with his unmasked cheek taking in the feeling of old, burnt skin and years of mud. He leans into your warm embracing having forgotten what it was like. “You are not alone.” 
Even on tip-toes you still were short of his lips. It was only when he gave in and leaned down that you were able to kiss him. Eyes closed, shoulders tensing, you melted into the kiss. His lips were rough, chapped, but gentle. He didn’t give anymore pressure until you asked for him, dragging you tongue along his bottom lip asking for entrance. He opened to you gratefully. Inside his mouth housed monstrous sharp teeth and an excited tongue and moved inside your mouth, tasting ever inch of you. He was greedy, demanding everything of yours. When you had nothing more to give, he relented and let you go.
You sank back on your heels gasping for breath. You noticed he was smiling, an odd sight of such a distorted and sad face. 
“My Angel. My Muse.” You felt him move on top of you, a hand sneaking behind your back making to bend over so as not be pressed uncomfortably against his chest. “I have many names of which to call you. I am eager to use them all.” He laughed, the sound rattling your whole body with its bass leaving you quivering. “But you, can call me Philip.” He tilted his head in a mock bow, his free hand grabbing the edge of his cape and fanning it out in respect. You offered you own  meek nod. His smile only widened at your compliance. 
“Come now,” Philip said standing up to his full height, his hand still securing your back. “Let me take you away. Away from all this numb light and into the darkness where no one will find us.” He raised his arm and cape and quickly brought it down around you, sweeping it around the both of your until he had you cocooned. 
The world fell into black again and all you could sense was him; his breathing, his reinforced arms cradling you. You could also hear a faint thumping when you put your ear to his chest - his heart. Once diseased and weak now pumped with vigor and delight. He had you in his grasp and he was never letting you go. You were his everything; his Angel of music.
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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years ago
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Golden Foresight Pt 5 (Gilgamesh, Rin)
Thus Far: 1, 2, 3, 4
__
“GG…”
The feeling of his master in the basement, lingering with that speaker of his broadcasting about that Caster servant, was leaving an ache in his bones. He could feel his stomach churning slightly, something that was no doubt from his master’s own wellbeing.
A pair of hands moved before his face, clapping softly.
“GG!”
Gilgamesh jumped slightly, his eyes going to the girl nearby.
“GG, did you even hear my question?”
“I did not.” Gilgamesh raised a brow at her, setting aside tonight’s wine of choice. Something called a Bordeaux Merlot. Bitter thing it was, although the potency-
“I asked what you would do if someone you cared about was in danger. Would you disobey your master and go save them?”
Rin’s little blue eyes were glued to him, currently looking wide eyed and curious. If it wasn’t for the near pout, he supposed he probably would have been harassing her.
But she was not asking to annoy him and she was not in here to waste his time, if her talents this evening with tracer magic were anything to say. He found himself closing his eyes, fighting off a yawn for a moment before he shook his head.
“You want to know what I would do?”
Rin nodded.
“I would kill the one who is interfering with my own wishes and do what I please. I do not care about many things so a treasure that manages to capture my interest as well as my concern would be worthy of killing some useless mongrel with a contract to me.”
He gave a smile to the girl as he leaned back.
“Some things, little gem, are worth killing for. Someone whom I care for is one. Although I would be sure to have several plans in place. A man who cares without thinking is a dead man.”
Rin hummed, her hair falling into her face once more as she looked down.
“Is there something you are concerned for? Your sister is long gone, is she not?”
“She is… It’s not about her.”
Those brows were furrowing, her hands brushing both sides of her hair back only to have it fall in her way again.
Her scowl grew.
Such a tiny and ridiculous thing. Take away the pretty bows and all that was left was a being no better than-
Gilgamesh set his cup down, beckoning the girl closer.
“What is it?”
“You need your hair tied.”
Rin pressed her hands to her head. “No- I don’t want to have my twin tails. You don’t like them!”
“Ah, you foolish thing.” He had to ruffle at that hair, hearing such complaints. “Let me see this mane of yours. You cannot even act properly for a king with your hands pawing at this hair.”
“I need to go soon.”
“Oh?”
His fingers were working on threading the hair carefully down her back, twisting it up carefully once that was done and beginning to pin it into place. His attendant had once held similar problems. Their hair was quite similar, both overly indulgent and sporting silken strands that tried to prove stubborn.
“And where do you think you are going?”
“I am going to find and save my friend.”
“Does anyone else know of this plan?”
“No.”
“Do you have someone you are planning to take with you?”
“No.”
Truly?
His hands paused, having pinned the last bit of hair into place.
“So you are planning to wander about outside, searching this large and overly flashy excuse of a kingdom for your friend, despite the dangers of other servants and of foul beasts roaming here and there?”
“My friend is important to me,” Rin told him simply, that gaze looking back at him again. “I can’t stop thinking about what’ll happen if I can’t spend time with her again. She’s not a smart student, but she does her best and she makes me laugh. There are other children that are going missing too.”
The missing children situation was that broad then?
The girl pulled back, pressing her hand to the golden pins and gems in her hair.
“I’m going to find her,” Rin declared.
“Only a fool would go alone.”
“Then I’m a fool, GG. Like you said, if I think someone is that precious, then I should just do what I want. I want to protect my friend.”
Why did he like that about this girl?
Those blue eyes were glaring straight at him, unwilling to look away until he found himself standing up. His fingers snapped, trading the snakeskin and his white shirt for something… sleeker.
“That was cool, GG.”
“A king is always cool, little gem.” His hand pat at her hair lightly. “Go change. I will join you for the excursion, since you have teased me with entertainment for the night.”
“REALLY?”
“A king does not lie.”
“Thank you!”
Her arms were wrapping around him, squeezing at his waist before she flashed the largest smile he’d ever seen at him.
“Thank you, GG! I’ll be right back! I have to go get cool clothes on too. Hold on hold on!”
Her rush was a mess of grabbing at the door and remembering that she needed to be silent in the house. Her stray wisps of brown hair were a flash before she was gone, off to dress.
Caster was meant to be dealt with, if what he had heard from the basement was any indication. His own master’s feelings on the matter were still coursing through him a bit, bringing a sickly feeling to his soul.
Tokiomi needed to be dealt with.
“GG?”
The girl’s head poked back in, her voice a soft whisper.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Mhmm… Do you think I should bring more than my necklace for protection?”
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head.
“Oh… Okay.”
So much for the wine.
He would return at a later time to drink the rest of it, perhaps with the head of Caster lying in the other chair for staring into the eyes of. Perhaps he would leave the head at the top of one of the buildings, or deep in a pile of dog shit.
There would have to be judgement of the other’s actions before he proceeded any further.
Before then, he had to find them.
His movements were soft, barely audible as he made his way through darkened rooms. Rin’s little hands wrapped around his, holding him close as they moved down the stairs and made it to the front door.
He could see her eyes stray to her father’s workshop door.
“Scared?” he whispered.
“Some things are worth killing for,” she whispered back.
Yet it was not that bravado that looked again towards the basement as he opened the front door. It was not that confidence that those words assumed that made her hesitate on the edge of the property.
She had mana though, an abundant amount, now that he was thinking about it. Removing Tokiomi and opting for a master of a more malleable nature…
“This way,” Rin told him. “I’m going to do that tracer spell from my friend’s home.”
Her little hand was shaking in his own as they walked. She moved through the streets, guiding him through one after another. Her eyes would drift to his own, her hand tightening on his whenever another shadow of a human being would appear and drift in the scenery around them.
There was tremendous fear.
It was almost tempting to use his clairvoyance a bit to dwell between the present and the future once more, but the risks of someone attacking them were great.
His eyes drifted over the world around them instead, taking in the darkened streets and the rainy weather in the distance.
“She lives here,” Rin murmured.
“Then begin your tracing.”
“…Can I do the stronger one?” Rin asked, her eyes drifting to him.
“Your body- Ah. Ah, I see.”
Clever kid.
He was here accompanying her. If she were to allow herself to trace with more of that mana of hers, her body could be carried by him, easily able to be used once more after she found the location or if someone tried to get to them.
“Is it okay, GG?”
“I suppose. A mentor must let their apprentice be a little reckless, so long as it is within reason.”
She moved closer to him, pulling her necklace off and focusing for a moment.
The ruby mouse dropped. Her body fell into his arms, barely caught before he held her close.
“Let’s see what use you have become, little gem.”
The tiny thing ferreted through the rainy streets once more, pausing at lights and passing through the outskirts of the city. Her little object delved between the grasses of the parks, dipping beneath the lights of the lampposts and leaving him to carry her body in his arms.
The mana was stronger now.
There was something wrong, something itching under his skin as he paused near one of the buildings.
The little mouse no longer rushed along, pausing as it reached a door.
The necklace was on the ground in mere seconds, Rin’s eyes opening once more.
“Here… She’s here.”
Rin looked up, staring at him.
“Why would she be here, GG?”
“Caster is here.”
“We have to save my frien-“
He pressed a hand to her lips, glancing into the building’s glass that they were beside.
Figures lay inside.
“Follow me quietly,” he whispered.
Rin nodded.
His hand tried the door, only to find it refusing to move. They would have to move to the back, figure out if the door there was locked and, if not, perhaps they would enter from the roof. It would take a little patience, but-
A small flash came, Rin’s hand pressing to his as it happened.
“It was in your book,” she whispered.
“Clever,” he murmured.
They moved in, closing the doors behind them.
Children lay strewn about. No families, no life; the room itself felt as though Ereshkigal had come calling. He could sense the impending deaths more than he could sense the liquor still coursing through his veins.
“AH! You’re here!” Rin rushed past him, grasping one of the children. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”
The mana in the area was rising.
Gilgamesh glanced around, taking in the scene once more.
“GG!” Rin looked to him. “We have to move them!”
“And how do you expect me to do this?”
“We could… um…” The girl paused, her eyes widening.
There was someone behind him.
It would be unfortunate to do this, since it would tip of Tokiomi that he was in the midst of disobeying him. It would mean no more visits to the church in the depths of the night, but- quite frankly- he didn’t really care.
The other’s lunge at him was met with a blade striking down, slamming into the man’s knee.
“You think to approach me?”
Gilgamesh turned, motioning with a hand for Rin to do whatever it was that she had planned.
“C-C-CASTER!”
A vile smell rose around them, the darkness was growing. Behind the fool, the door flew from its hinges, the windows breaking, sending a series of scared children into screaming in terror.
The laughter was ill mannered, given the circumstances.
All for a woman.
Gilgamesh shook his head at his own foolishness, his gates opening again. The sides of his jacket flapped in the winds, his hair whipped around, falling where it may as he waited for the attack.
And there it was.
He slammed the swords down before Caster could pass him, throwing the other off kilter. They tumbled out the broken window, the Caster’s body slamming into the ground.
The beast spoke to him.
“GG!”
Gilgamesh glanced back, finding himself smacked.
“Go! Run straight home and don’t look back,” Rin told her friend, ripping the enchantment from her person and pushing her off.
“Rin!”
“I AM WITH MY DAD!”
The girl looked his way before running.
“NO!” Caster’s master lunged, but there was no time to look. There was no time to do anything more than to drop a weapon near the girl and stop the Caster from hitting him again.
“You don’t act like a servant,” Caster drawled. “Where is the glorious heroic nature? Where is the fire? You are nothing more than a free human to kill!”
The beast of a man’s hand dared to reach for his own.
“I shall kill you slowly, listening to the pretty screams you make!”
His hand grabbed that wagging jaw, gripping it tight before he flung the man into the bricks.
A scream ripped out into the night behind him as he did.
Another servant had appeared.
He turned, glancing back, sensing the figure before he saw the blue sweatshirt. The white haired man was moving between Rin and the Caster master, pulling the blade Rin had slammed into the man’s leg out.
Caster dematerialized from near him, their arms grabbing their master and vanishing.
The battle was taken from them, in essence.
“Rin,” the other murmured. “What are you doing here? Where is your father and mother?”
Rin looked up at the man, her scowl forming. “Unc-“
“Go home,” he warned. “Straight home, Rin. Do not tell your father that you were here. Do not tell anyone what happened. You take your bloodied clothes straight to the laundry, alright?”
He dematerialized himself before the other could look to him, following after Rin.
More death.
“GG?”
“Did you sense me?”
Rin looked to him, nodding softly as she looked at her hands again. “…GG… I don’t think I killed him. I’m sorry.”
“It was not your goal to kill him, little fool.”
His body was back, his footsteps keeping in time with the young girl’s own.
“We were here to save your little friend and the others. That is done, is it not?”
“It is. I put my necklace on my friend before she ran away.”
“What a waste of a necklace.”
The girl smiled. Despite her state of dress, she reached up, wrapping her hand around his own.
“Such a fool, to be pleased by so very little.”
“Thank you.” The girl looked up at him, same senseless smile as someone else he had known. Same trusting attending to his side. “You are the strongest hero.”
“You do know how to give proper adoration to your king, don’t you, little gem?”
A proud nod, a glowing expression; Rin strutted along, pride in her little lioness behavior higher than ever before. After all, she had hunted, fought and survived against someone older and more adept at killing. She had stabbed him, threatened his life and here she was, with a friend alive and him at her side.
“You’re bathing when we get inside your home,” Gilgamesh told her, dispelling his thoughts.
“Can I stay with you again?”
“Since tonight was your first hunt… I suppose.”
The girl jumped animatedly around him, cheering as quietly as any child really could.
“I will bring my book with me. I found one that is about ancient kings that would be fun to read with-“
Rin paused as he pushed open the doors.
Tokiomi stood in the foyer.
“…It would seem that you’ve found my daughter while you were out amusing yourself, Archer.”
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