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lovifie · 8 months ago

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Meeting Soap 🧼

Masterlist — OG Drabble - First Morning

Boyfriend!Ghost x Chubby!Reader, but they wake up in each other’s body.

“Good morning, ma’am.” The guard at the door greets Simon, leaning down when he rolls down the window. He moves his sunglasses up to his head, resting his hand on the car roof. Simon looks at the guard with an astonished expression, making you wonder just how many of his expressions have you missed by the mask.

You chuckle for the side seat, catching the attention of the guard who quickly turns pale when he lays his eyes on you, surprising you just for a second before you remember you are in your boyfriend's body.

“G-Good morning, Lieutenant.” He says, standing straight. Simon covers his mouth with his hand, hiding his smile. He clears his throat to disguise his laugh and turns to the guard. “You know him, right? Can we get through, then? We have a meeting with Price.”

The guard quickly nods, pushing the button to open the gate and Simon drives the car inside the base. He glances at you when you laugh, smiling as well. “I could get used to this, Si.”

He laughs softly shaking his head. “Don’t get high on power now, love” He parks onto his spot, turns off the engine and turns to you. “Alright, love. We need to talk to Price.”

“Your captain.” You remember nodding.

“Exactly, my captain. Older lad, big mustache-”

“Wait, I don't have your accent!” You realize, looking at him.

“That's fine, I don't talk to people enough for them to realize if I suddenly don't have the accent. Only my team may notice, and we are looking for them, so no issue.” He explains, making you cock your head at the mention of not talking to people.

You nod, understanding what he means. “Alright, so… Price's your captain, and the other two; what were their names? Gaz and… Shampoo, was it?”

And it must be really amusing to him that you have remembered the names of his teammates for the way he chuckles at you. “Exactly, make sure to call them by those names, all right?”

You nod quickly. “Alright, I got it.” He nods as well and steps out of the car. You do as well and close the door after you, you turn to him when you hear him curse. “What's wrong?”

“The fuck are these?” He asks, and then you notice him fight with his pockets, making you laugh. He looks back at you, annoyed with the pockets.

“Use the back ones.” You say pointing to your butt. “Or let me keep them, you are not leaving me here anyway, right?”

He shoves the keys in his back pocket and starts to walk grabbing your hand to walk together. “His office is down that way, J. Price, got it?” He asks and you nod. “If he is in there, give me a call, alright? I'm gonna go check on the mess hall if the boys are there, call me if there is any problem.”

You feel a bit uneasy about being on your own on a military base, only knowing the names and nicknames of four men. Still, it looks like Simon must be someone people respect because of the way they move out of your way. You try to mimic the way Simon usually walks; looking straight ahead, always as if he knows where he is going and ready to kick out of the way anybody who gets in the middle.

The captain's office is easy to find and you knock on the door, leaning in to hear if anybody says anything inside. When you don't hear anything, you turn around to look for Simon, well, yourself.

Only to find him next to a man who is leaning against the door, and just by seeing Simon's disgusted face you know he is getting hit on.

Simon's POV

There is nobody he is looking for inside of the mess hall, so he turns around to exit when he collides with somebody that almost sends him flying back.

The feeling is so alien to him that it automatically annoys him, missing his bulldozer-like build. Strong hands grab his waist keeping him from falling and it only repuls him even more how easily the stranger can grab him.

“Careful there, bonnie.” A more than well-known voice says and he looks up to his teammate Soap. Well, Shampoo. The thought of you calling him that makes his smile for a second, which for his disgrace only fuels Soap to think this is okay. “Ye're right, lass?”

“Fucking peachy, mate.” He answers, pulling Soap's hand away from his body, hating the way he can tell he gets free just because Soap lets him peel the hands away. “Where is the old man?”

He raises an eyebrow, confused for a second before he figures out and he lays a hand on your shoulder. “Aahh, you are looking for Price, bonnie?”

“Yeah, right, Price. Have you seen him?” Simon asks, pushing Soap's hand out of his shoulder.

“Not yet, I'm pretty sure he is still coming back from a meeting downtown.” He says smiling, using the hand he pushed off his shoulder to brush his hair back as if it was his plan all along, flexing his arm’s muscles in the process making Ghost cringe. “But I can take ye to his office, keep ye company if ye want. I'm a great talker.”

“No, thank you.” Ghost simply says, before he tries to move away, getting exasperated with the way his mate is flirting with him. If only he had ever talked to them about you, if they had shown them a photo, something, he wouldn't have to be dealing with his mutt of a friend.

But Soap can't be blamed, a cute little thing like you going around the base. For fucks sake, the first thing he saw of you was your butt sticking out the door when Simon was checking who was inside. Soap is ready to risk it all for you. Plus, there are some real weirdos on base, so he is going to stay close.

He doesn't need to stay away, because the moment Simon tries to walk away from him; he crashes against somebody again. Once more, being grabbed by the waist, this time by even bigger hands. He is ready to fight but then he realises it is his body, which means is you.

“Ah, thank god it's you, I was about to-”

“Careful there, love. You almost fell for me, am I right?” You ask, pulling Ghost plush against your body. He looks at you as if you just grew a second head which makes you want to burst out laughing.

“The fuck is wrong with you, love?” He ask, eyebrow raised.

“The only thing wrong is that you don't have my surname, love. How will people know you are mine, hm?” You ask, leaning down and making a kissy face hidden by the mask.

Ghost chuckles shaking his head, amused by your lack of shame as he puts a hand over your mouth pushing you back. You laugh as well standing back straight, you check he didn't get hurt with the crush and then look at the guy behind him.

You have never seen him before, you just know he has the most confused expression the man can have. Completely immobile, borderline afraid and you need to fight the intrusive thoughts of just suddenly moving just to scare him.

There are many things going on inside of Soap’s head at the moment, he was happy he had found Ghost, happy to talk to such a pretty thing even if she seemed disinterested. He was going to get pissed somebody else got in the way, but he was then relieved that it was his LT; knowing the man was never interested in girls. Only for his stoic CO to start pulling the worst pickup lines in history; Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley, shamelessly flirting with a girl. And on top of everything, it was working!

“That's Johnny.” Ghost whispers covering his mouth so the other man doesn't hear.

“Who the fuck is Johnny?” You ask back the same way, Johnny not being one of the three names you know.

“Shampoo.” Ghost answers snickers hiding behind his words.

“Oh, hey, Shampoo, how you doing my guy?” You ask, giving your best impression of what you think your boyfriend would do. Obviously doing a horrible job by the way the other man looks at you when you clap his hand. You definitely need to talk to Simon about how he behaves around his friend.

“Are ye feelin’ all right, Lt?” The shorter man asks, confusion still flooding his senses.

But he is not the only one confused, because what the hell does Lt means? Is that his nickname? And that is what breaks the act, you turn to your boyfriend before asking. “Your nickname is Lt? What does it stand for? Lil tits? You don't have small tits.”

Simon is infinitely glad that you only mumble the last part of your words, too low for the scot to hear. Not that the men would be able to take anything in, with how shocked he seems to be.

“Okay, there is no point in hiding it from you anyway, Johnny.” Simon says looking at him, not liking the feeling of Soap towering over him like a wall. “Something weird has happened.”

“No, that I can tell, bonnie.” He says grabbing Simon’s arm and pulling him close to him. “I think Lt must have hit his head or something.”

“No, no, Johnny. That's my girl.” He says, fighting off Johnny's grip on his arm. “We switched bodies someway.”

Soap looks at Johnny, an unreadable look on his face. Then he burst out laughing, slapping his knee like a cartoon. “Alright, wow, ye guys really planed that good. I almost believe it, that's a weird way to introduce yer girl to us, Lt.”

You rub your forehead thinking about how to prove it. “Okay, Shampoo. Honesty. What about what I have done or said today tells you that I'm him?”

“I have to admit it was quite credible. But c’mon, this is real life, those things don't happen.” Soap argues, not even caring about the nickname.

Ghost finds the situation amusing, his girl arguing with his best mate, seeing her grow exasperated with him. In any other situation, he would laugh, because he finds it amusing. Until he doesn't.

He doesn't find it funny because someone grabs him from behind. He turns around to see a rookie, he has only seen him a couple of times, and doesn't even know his name yet.

But the man is still way taller than him in this form and he easily overpowers him. It's different from Soap's approach, he quickly realizes. Because the scot was touchy and maybe stood too close for his liking but Ghost could easily push him back when he got too close.

This man? Ghost is using almost all his strength and he is unmoving. He is not used to this body, all the tricks he knows only work when he is double the size. He doesn't know how to take advantage of being the smaller one, not with this much difference.

“Come with me, c’mon, pretty thing.” The stupid rookie says. “I'll give you a good time.”

It brings Ghost bad memories of his childhood and his more recent past. Feeling at others' mercy, a feeling so familiar and alien at the same time; it only gets worse because he can feel himself get paralysed with fear.

“What did you say, dickhead?” A deep voice says over him, and when he looks back he sees himself. Ghost only has seen you mad once since he met you, you reached your limit and snapped when an idiot hit your car. Ghost was glued to the passenger seat on that occasion, not daring to get in the way of your anger but still looking at the mirror to see if he was needed. He wasn't.

He also knows that he is a scary fucker, everyone knows. But something inside him clicks when he realises that the idiot who grabbed him is about to regret it.

A gentle hand find her way to his lower back, keeping him in place and the other grabs the soldier's wrist. So hard his fingers twitch around Simon's arm letting go.

The hand on his back gently tug at him, moving him behind you; kind of in between Soap and you. You still don't let go of the man's hand, making sure that Simon is fine first. He looks still a bit shaken but something tells you is more an inside conflict than anything.

And once you are sure, you turn to the man. He isn't as cocky as he was just a moment ago, he is bending to the side you are grabbing him; pain pulling him.

“Now, what were you saying about a good time, bitch?” You spit at him, you pull your other hand back just to gain momentum and you hit in right in the middle of his face. No kind of technique whatsoever, but Simon's body shear strength enough to send the man's head back and forth like a whip before he falls back like a corpse on the floor.

Your hand hurts, but you know he is worse. And it is at that moment that you take notice of the crow you are calling, the lieutenant fighting somebody right on the mess hall door. A big show.

You hear Simon call you, but you still need to give a message to the asshole. You kick his feet, trying to wake him up; but he doesn't, so you crouch down slapping his face. You see him move his eyes behind his eyelids and you take it as proof of life.

“Remember that the next time you dare to touch a girl, okay, buddy?” You say, the men still not really answering and when Simon calls your name again you look at him standing up. Two new men behind him, not that you care.

You walk up to him, cupping his face, until one of the men says: “Simon, my office. Now.”

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a-araiguma-a · 3 months ago

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He loved only her

No one in particular, just an elf from the universe of J. R. R. Tolkien. Elf x f!reader

In the ancient forests of Middle-earth, where tall trees concealed the sky, there lived an elf. His people were as eternal as the forest itself, and their hearts were rarely clouded by mortal emotions. But one day, he met a woman—a simple, human, mortal woman. There was something about her that made his heart beat faster: her beauty, which could neither be captured by the finest poets nor sung by the greatest musicians, her mind, so unlike that of other humans, filled with thoughts, ideas, and philosophy, or her eyes, in which one could drown if they gazed too long. It was something he could not understand, but this only made his love grow deeper.

"Cormamin lindua ele lle"—he always wanted to tell her that his heart sang at the sight of her, but it was not the right time, not yet. From the moment of their first meeting, he sought her out and waited for her in this forest every day when the sun's rays gently touched the ground, filtering through the thick foliage.

She told him about her world, about the brief lives of humans, about how they lived and died, dreaming and suffering.

"Lle naa vanima,"—he blurted out one day, not even realizing when he had said it: "You are beautiful." "What did you say?"—fortunately, she didn't understand his words, and that saddened him. It was not enough for him to meet her in the evenings; he longed to extend their conversations, to stretch them out for an hour, two, or forever. He listened to her stories, captivated not by the words themselves but by how her voice filled the emptiness in his soul. Without her, he would never have known the need to fill it.

"Tua amin!"—But did he need help? Did he need to be saved from her? Honestly, no, he was ready to drown in her eyes, ready to die if only to meet her once more. He was ready for anything...

But the Elf did not know how to tell her about his feelings. He understood that the time she gave him was limited, and each moment with her was precious. But how could he explain this? How could he tell her that his heart, which had always been eternal and free, now belonged to her? "The more you love someone," he thought, "the harder it is to tell them." "Nin lithiach, Meleth nín"—she truly enchanted him every time he saw her, even in his thoughts. His beloved. "Guren mil gaim lín"—his heart was in her hands—"Tessa sina ten’ amin"—he asked her to keep it, but in truth, she was free to do with it as she wished, as long as it was her.

And she accepted him. She had loved him too, ever since then, but she understood that it would be difficult for him; her life was short, and what would happen afterward, when she left him? She was ready to weep over such a truth. "Amin uuma malia, Arwen en amin"—it didn't concern him. Being with her and having her even for a moment was already enough. The chance to call her his—that was his happiness. His Lady, who ruled his heart and mind.

As the years passed, she began to talk more often about parting, though it pained the elf to hear it, he couldn't disagree. "When the day comes that we part," she said quietly, "if my last words aren't 'Amin mela lle,' you'll know it's because I didn't have time." In those moments, he remained silent, lost in thought, unable to find the words to express that his love knew no bounds of time. "Meleth e-guilen, my love is selfish. I can't breathe without you,"—she was the love of his life. How could she speak of them parting, not seeing her, not inhaling her scent in the mornings, no more afternoon conversations about books, about how Ellen had messed up her work again, no more seeing her smile, or those gentle eyes full of love for him... "Aa’ lasser en he coia orn n' omenta gurtha!"—Let the leaves of her tree of life never wither, he prayed. Just a little longer, he wasn't ready yet, but how could he stretch this time?

But when the fog enveloped the forest, and the cold wind brought with it a premonition of farewell, the elf finally spoke what was in his heart. He took her hand and said: "I was destined to live a thousand years, and I belong only to you for all those years. If we were to live a thousand lives, I would want you to be mine in every one of them." She looked at him, and a tear glistened in her eye. She knew their time was running out, but these were the words she believed in more than anything in the world.

For the elf's love was as eternal as the forest itself, and he continued to love, despite their parting, carrying his feelings for her through the years and ages of his life.

"Cormamin niuve tenna’ ta elea lle au’"—My heart will wait until it sees you again. "Le me ithon anuir"—I will love you forever. "Quel kaima"—Rest well.

#the hobbit #the lord of the rings #the silmarillion #x reader #x y/n #the silmarillion x reader #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #legolas x reader #haldir x reader #elrond x reader #lindir x reader #thranduil x reader #lotr imagines #elrohir x reader #elladan x reader

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the-s1lly-corner · 1 year ago

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This is a silly request you don't have to do it or don't have to do it now

TADC crew having to take care of a very sleepy kid reader

Like this kid just falls asleep in the most random places that are sometimes dangerous probably giving people parental/sibling panic as they try to get the sleeping kid out of danger as the kid is oblivious to the world around them

TADC cast x very sleepy kid!reader (platonic!)

UEUEUEUE gonna answer a few requests then imma go ahead and start cooking tonight's dinner yahoo!!

Sorry that stuff has been slowing down a lot lately, between being sick last week and getting a ton of baking orders to deal with after recovering, I've been a little pressed for time and energy <\3

CAINE:

Good news for your safety, reader! Caine keeps all his eyes on you and watches you like a hawk! hes already pulling you to a safe place to sleep when you so much as yawn; perhaps even getting a digital cloud to hover around so you can sleep on it.. hell even if he cant get a cloud he might summon a bunch of bubbles to carry you around

Baby harness

He carries you in one of those/j

POMNI:

Easily one of the most panicked when she sees you curled up and sleeping in the middle of a chaotic IHA, tries to scramble towards you. You know those tropes in cartoons where a character has a fragile person/object they're trying to protect at all costs and it leads to the character doing the protecting getting all beat up? That's basically you and pomni, I think

You wake up and ask why she looks like she just got zapped by lightning

RAGATHA:

Always keeps you within arms length when she realizes just how sleepy you are all the time; perhaps even offers to carry you when you're feeling a little tired. Really with ragatha theres a little risk of you falling asleep in a random area. I think the only reason you may end up in a dangerous situation is if she needed someone else to look over you briefly

Just know that if this ever happens she will never let the one who was meant to be responsible for you live it down

Cough cough jax or maybe even zooble

JAX:

Unlike the above, if he were responsible for you in a general sense he would feel far more panicked than if he was playing babysitter. That's not to say he wouldnt panic if he was put in charge of you by someone else and you fell asleep somewhere. No he still would... but he feels a new level of guilt if youre *his kid*

As mentioned in the reader w/ crutches post he has a habit of zooming off and doing his own thing especially if it's for a new prank idea he came up with

So theres a chance he sometimes impulsively runs off. Like he gets better at it overtime as he becomes more responsible, buuuut...

Shakes you awake and tries to walk you to your room

Lightly scolds you but really I think hes more so beating himself up... just redirecting the blame.. again, jax is still trying to be more responsible with things.. not perfect yet, of course

GANGLE:

KINGER:

Keeps you at arms length AND in his sight at all times because 1. Hes a father and 2. Hes so so scared that something is going to happen to you, especially given your sleepy nature. Offers to let you snuggle into the soft fluff of his robe when you're feeling a little tired. You have probably fell asleep standing up while leaning into the fur. Very silly

This poor man nearly has a heart attack when he sees you asleep and in harm's way, but oddly enough I think it would make something "snap" in him and he immediately comes to your rescue. If he gets hit or struck by anything he just. Takes it and keeps going

Dad powers, I guess

Very determined to get to you probably doesnt let himself feel his feelings and panic until long after the events of the IHA are over, I think... starts fretting over you

ZOOBLE:

If you're their kid/sibling then they might just take you with them when they decide to skip a IHA, since zooble seems to not enjoy them in the pilot. So good news here, you're unlikely to be in any real danger when zooble is looking after you! When they're not doing a group thing and in the common area, they just stick to their room.... so they probably let you sleep in their bed!

Good ending here folks

Forgot to mention this in ragathas part but I think both her and gangle try to figure out why you're so sleepy, and perhaps try to find a solution aside from simply letting you sleep it off. I mean obviously neither of them would ban you from napping, buuuut

...well it's a digital body, could there really be any deeper stuff going on aside you just being tired?

Anyways

Her comedy mask literally pops off and breaks when she sees you just sleeping in the middle of the floor during all the chaos. Tries to get you out of harm way but it ends up in her also getting hurt, similar to pomni

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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veneritia · 8 months ago

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april 2024 camp nano wip intro - when comes the dawn

this is just something silly :)

taglist: @bloomingwrites @writinglyra @zmwrites @trapped-inadystopianovel @inky-duchess @aalinaaaaaa @seasteading @kaatiba @lazulis-stuff @serpentarii @sourrcandy @charlesjosephwrites @marrowwife @forever-and-almost-always @halcionic

Slide transcripts under the cut!

[TRANSCRIPT BEGINS]

Slide 1: Title slide

When Comes the Dawn, book 1 of 2

Slide 2: wdym my fantasy story has to have magic?

Set in a fantasy world loosely set in the late antiquities/early middle ages., where everyone alive has the capability to harness magic. But actually using it requires strict and intensive education (and maybe a phD or 5) so most people only know very basic spells.

In Trinitarian belief, it’s believed that the goddess Meidther gave her blood to bring humans to life, and because of that people are imbued with magic. No living person can be alive without magic because it’s literally impossible! Wait -- the emperor of Aetier has a what????

So there’s this weird phenomenon where on very rare occasions, babies will be born without magic. Called “deadbornes”, these babies are incompatible with life and usually end up passing away minutes to days later. With one notable exception (we’ll circle back to this later)

Slide 3: the set-up

The Empire of Aetier (or if you ask any local: “the gods’ specialist little empire”) has a very unique way of handling succession in the imperial family. That way is murder. Just murder. All heirs plot against one another in a formal-informal system called “The King’s Game.” It’s supposed to be a competition of skills, but it’s kind of warped itself into state-sanctioned fratricide (NOT to be confused with a battle royale. That’s just uncouth /j)

The last King’s Game ended 22 years ago, when Dantalion vi Aetier defeated and killed his half-sister in battle. As the victor, he crowned himself the new Vasilier of the empire and proceeded to bring in a new golden age of prosperity for his people. And nothing is wrong and everything is beautiful, and there is no way this can go wrong

... right?

It all starts on the day Fenice was born... where instead of being the healthy and uber powerful child Dantalion expected her to be, Fenice turns out to be a deadborne. Deadbornes are considered harbingers of ill omens, and siring one is a terrible way to start your new reign. And even stranger still is the fact that Fenice...doesn’t die? Someone call the priest and ask them what does it mean if your death omen refuses to go away

Slide 4: The plot

The end of the Hesperia-Aetier war brought new lands under the Empire’s rule, and with it, new ways to gain power and prestige in the Imperial Court. The biggest thorn in the empire atm is that Hesperia’s last king is still wandering the lands somewhere, waiting to strike.

Imperessa Fenice vi Aetier (who’s still alive and kicking) just lost her mom in the war, and now she’s desperate to prove herself to her estranged father that she’s more than a disappointment and wasted potential. And what better way to do that than to succeed him as the next Vasilier?

The problem? Only those that undergo an Ascension are considered legitimate contenders for the throne. The other problem? Dantalion won’t give her one.

Fenice: “Trade offer: I receive my own province to rule and an Ascension. You receive the head of the deposed king of Hesperia.” Dantalion: “Deal. But you have to marry his brother though” Fenice: “What”

[in big, bold, italicized font] disclaimer: this is not a romance

Slide 5: The plot pt. 2

Now wedded and gifted with a province of her own to rule , Fenice actually has to set-up her own power base and follow through with her end of the deal to find and kill the runaway king, as well as extinguish the rebellions he’s so keen on igniting.

But the more she looks for him, the more she realizes he’s being backed by someone much more powerful. But who?

And on totally unrelated note, there seems to be some weird rumors going around of some guy claiming to be Aretos vi Aetier, the son of the very same person Dantalion killed during the King’s Game 20+ years back. But that’s obviously fake news. Surely no one will fall for it!

Slide 6: The POV characters

[image description, the slide is split into two parts with fenice on the left and nikephoros on the right. end image description]

[heading ] fenice vi aetier

[image description: a face claim of the character is displayed on an arched frame, the model is female,has long red hair, pale skin, and an intense gaze]

20, she/her, imperessor of Aetier, Kaisarim of Isidore

the deadborne child that just won’t die

The most calculative and petty bitch you will ever meet

Has the constitution of a sick Victorian lady

Has an inferiority complex so bad it loops back around to a superiority complex

May have met god. not entirely sure

(Debuff) (unremovable) an off-putting aura that cancels out all magic in her immediate vicinity

Ginger

She’s soooo aroace

[heading ] nikephoros deominos

[image description: a face claim of the character is displayed on an arched frame, the model is male, has short light brown hair, is wearing a red sweater, and has his chin tucked into the crook of his arm, while leaning off the arm of a sofa. end image description.]

24, he/him, prince-consort, prince of Hesperia

has been having the worst day of his life for 5 years in a row and counting

his country? conquered. his brother? in hiding. his sister? captive. himself? trying not to die of liver failure

the opposite of a wife guy, the only person he hates more than his wife is his father-in-law loves his family, would be nice to see them though.

generally a nice guy but recent events has him very stressed and angry 24/7

has murderous urges almost all the time

At the bottom middle of the slide it says "married in body but divorced in spirit."

Slide 7: Major characters (spar's notes edition)

(no pictures bc face claimsare hard :(

[heading] dantalion vi aetier

47, he/him, vasilier of the empire

a living legend that all history nerds of the future would study

the dilfiest dilf to ever dilf

has many kids. is a father to maybe one of them

has many wives. is a husband to one, maybe two of them

canonically extremely pretty

surprisingly the only vi aetier to recieve the “kinslayer” epithet despite all previous generations also...slaying kin

Is a wife guy but for a specific wife only

conquered Hesperia as a pride thing

[heading] titania of taul

45, she/her, late vasilia of the empire

the most badass woman to ever walk the face of the earth

mother to fenice and first wife to the guy on the left

she dies before the book starts but she’s still present in the story because death has nothing on her

has many fun epithets such as “the strongest mage,” and “the scourge of men”

Titania is to Hesperians as Hannibal was to the Romans

A+ fighter, B+ mom

Not brought up or relevant in the story, but did you know no one knows who her mother is. One day, her dad just walked out into the wilderness to hunt and then a couple weeks or months later came back with Titania. no explanation was given

Slide 8: major characters cont.

[heading] andras vi drochona

44, he/him, imperessor of Aetier

Dantalion’s only full-blooded sibling, and also his only living sibling

the vasilier’s right hand man

lopped off his own sword arm to prove his loyalty

Designated a forever bachelor by the government

terrible at being comforting

likes to mess with his nieces and nephews

[heading] charles vi aetier

18, he/him, imperessor of Aetier

dantalion’s second child

everyone’s favorite person and can do no wrong

has to always be ok or he’ll detonate like a nuke

achilles coded bi-disaster, take that however you will

a disney prince trapped in game of thrones someone please help this boy out he just wants his family to get along

absolute mama’s boy

[heading] sola eidos

27, he/him

that is not his real name, he made it up

could be the star of his own book ngl

primarily deals in information nowadays but sometimes he misses the adrenaline rush that comes from a well-executed assassination. this is what lands him in fenice’s hands

his secrets have secrets, that’s why his hair is so big

slide 9: major characters cont.

[heading] isandros deominos

28, he him, king of Hesperia

Nike’s older half-brother

Had the worst start of a reign ever. He’s proclaimed king and then immediately has to flee into hiding

hates Aetier with a burning passion

is Stressed TM and in dire need for some hot cocoa

[heading] leda vi bryennia

48, she/her, honored fidari

long story short, she once witnessed Titania fight and covered in blood and had such a massive girl-crush she swore to be Titania’s knight the second she was asked

helped raise fenice and is now serves her as her guardian/protector. that is her child thank you very much

had a shounen-style rivals-to-friends-to-lovers arc with fellow fidari Thetis. It’d be great if it wasn’t for their explosive break-up

[heading] sartore vitae

28, he/him

he can mansplain, manipulate, and manwhore his way into and out of any situation

has a cool eye-patch

is maybe a little too invested with Fenice’s relationship with her father

he WISHES he was as cool as lelouch lamperouge

+ many more characters! (seriously this cast is huge)

slide 10: featuring

way too much extraneous worldbuilding

court intrigue

morally dark gray protagonist

family as your allies and family as your enemies

lots of near-death experiences

no romantic subplot!

too many code geass references

slide 11: camp nano goals

write everyday

2wrte 15,000 words total

reach 50,000 words on my draft

slide 12: fin

[image description: the final slide is full of discord screenshots of funny jokes and commentary about the wip. ]

[end transcript]

#pls don't take this seriously #if u see any typos no you dont #wtwcommunity #writeblrgarden #writeblr #collection.my projects #series.wctd #collection.events #event.camp nano april 2024

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vampiretendencies · 2 years ago

Text

IDCNTLIKEDARKNESS MILESTONE EVENT ★

request; congratulations on the milestone. i was wondering if you could do a piece on this lyric, xi. "tell me how did i ever find you, babe, tell me now that you're never gonna' run" - heaven by the neighbourhood. just jj feeling lucky that he has his partner but also a little insecure but the partner reassures him that she not going to bail on him like his mom.

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings; fluff, a bit sad, mention of depression

authors note; thank you !! & i love this concept, i changed the 'babe' in the lyrics to 'baby' cause i though it suited jj more. said i wouldn't have time to write cause i was busy but i managed to squeeze this out. this is a repost bc when i posted w the original ask it wasn't posting to the tags.

masterlist — jj masterlist — milestone masterlist

JJ wasn't sure if it was seasonal depression, or just a single day full of justifiable sorrow.

Always being difficult to process his emotions.

He's wandered out to his pickup truck going on an hour ago, saying something of 'needing a moment'— extremely out of the ordinary for JJ. The seedlings of his childhood, coming back to haunt him, moments seeming to strum in when he was actually managing his life for once.

There was this inkling of his father blemishing in his mind, 'your mama' always told me you wasn't gonna' be shit.'

And there were thoughts of what his mom would've been like if she was around.

Why didn't she take me with her?

Was I not good enough for her to stay?

Would she be proud of me and where I am now? Did I really fail her?

Do I look like her?

Why couldn't she have stuck around and shown me everything that it requires to be a man?

She left when JJ was so young, and he couldn't remember a thing. Never being able to wrap his head around that fact that his own mother abandoned him, so that meant anyone could.

His chest is tightening vigorously, those same stitches that you sowed back together for him with time, were bursting back open. He couldn't shead a tear, having wasted numerous tears over the span of his life from this deserted

perception.

Up until he met you, he aquired infatuation a chore for most to give to him. With you, it wasn't forced it was seamless.

The four corners of the relationship neatly folded together to create the most irrevocable, maximal and acme-like love story he could've hoped for.

An exact reminder of that is interrupting his thoughts upon his truck door slinging open, revealing a concerned you to pull him from his thoughts. Now, you knew better than to pester, you always waited for JJ to fully tell you what would disturb his usual mindset.

"Don't leave the door open, baby, get in."

He was ready.

His eyes were reddened from sheer discomfort and irritability, having lost himself. Red hat sat backwards atop his head, blonde tresses poking out of the sides. So saddened, but still so alluring. His chin was propped up on his hand, arm resting on the middle console. Welcoming your interjection with dainty gestures, patting his free hand to the empty seat.

"Been in here for a while, J."

He fears making eye contact, because then you'll see his bleeding soul; yet fully knowing so prior.

"Just had to take a break ... for a minute," he mumbled, speaking above a whisper. "Not from you but this shitty life."

He swallowed hard, swearing that the lump in his throat was there to stay, panicking in such a hallow shell. "But then I realized, that if it wasn't for this shitty life ... I wouldn't have you."

You sympathized for him, struggling to rid himself of the shedded skin his parents left behind.

"And I wouldn't have what we've built together."

Unable to resist any longer, he interlocks his elongated fingers with yours, squeezing in reassurance. Bringing the shared knuckles to his untouched mouth, innocently pressing sweet pecks to each bone. You wailed and weeped on the inside, his vulnerability was elegantly put; rich and tasteful for everything he was pondering on the inside.

"Just-just don't do what she did, my sweet girl."

It was always 'pretty girl', the 'sweet' being something new, describing the whole of what he envisioned on the spectrum of you being his for eons.

"Who?"

"My mom... just don't leave me like she did."

The mystery woman resonated with your thoughts, and two and two were finally piecing together. Your poor lover.

"Wouldn't dare do what she did J-"

"Don't know why you stay, but l'm lucky you've been keeping me around. Tell me how did I ever find you, baby, tell me now that you're never gonna' run."

He sequenced his emotions in such a jarring, heavy-load, you'd always be there to take away the pain even if it was just temporary.

"M'gonna be here until we have wrinkles.’

#outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #obx3 #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagines

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gatitties · 2 years ago

Note

May i request please Ryusei, Baji, Chifu and Kazu when a friend draws them/make a clay figure of them please ? As a platonic

Thank you !

─Ryusei, Baji, Chifuyu & Kazutora x reader (platonic)

─Summary: your friend discover that you are making a small figure/draw of them

─Warnings: none

Ryusei Satou

─ He caught you drawing him in the middle of class, it was a boring class and you had a good angle on him so you took advantage of it.

─ You wish he hadn't seen you because oh boy, he'll make fun of you telling you that you're in love with him as a joke.

─ You will raise his ego even more and probably every time he sees you with a pencil and a notebook he poses ironically for you.

─ Although he seriously won't mind if you draw him, he enjoys seeing how you see him even if it's silly doodles sometimes, he'll appreciate art just the same.

─ He tries to draw you back but let's say that art is not his strong point, you still appreciate the attempt.

─ He won't force you if it bother you that people see your drawings without your permission, but keep in mind that he will want to snoop in your notebook just to see his.

─ Oh and if someone makes fun of your drawings he'll be ready to throw hands no problem, only he can make fun of it and he's not even serious about it.

─ He'll definitely steal one of the doodles, cut it out, and put it in his phone case to take it with him.

Baji Keisuke

─ You had to make a figure of whatever you wanted for a class project, you decided to make your friend bust in a cartoon version.

─ So you both worked together because you needed some references, he didn't question why you decided to take him as a model since he wanted to do Peke J.

─ He's probably complaining that you've exaggerated his expression and that he's not so 'ugly', but it's the style, so you ask him to shut up and concentrate on his work, you're not accepting criticism of your work when he made a cat as if it were a ball with paws.

─ He will show off when the works are exhibited, proudly telling Chifuyu that this is him and that you have wonderful hands that would make you a famous artist in the future.

─ You will verbally slap him for being a hypocrite and for having complained at the beginning about how he looked and only bragging now that you got the best grade in the class.

─ He saved a photo of the sculpture and asked you to make a slightly smaller one to put in his room.

─ He will show it to his mother, proud of your abilities, although at first he said that he did it to take the credit, luckily it's easier to catch a liar than a lame one.

Chifuyu Matsuno

─ You casually commented that you were out of ideas to draw and that lately you were not able to capture the poses well one day.

─ He said that he could be your model to take references, although it was only a specific case, you began to trace his figure more times because this boy seemed to be posing without realizing it.

─ He won't mind spending entire afternoons posing for you, although he can't sit still for more than a minute because he gets tired quickly, give him a break, he never thought of being a model and it's exhausting to keep the same posture for so long.

─ Definitely he will ask you to finish the drawings that he likes the most and not to leave them as a simple practice sketch, he wants to hang them on the wall of his room.

─ He will also keep one of those little drawings in the phone case, he takes it as a lucky charm because the day you gave it to him he passed an exam.

─ As a thank you, he also wants to make a silly little drawing of you, although since he wants it to be a surprise, he draws you during classes without you noticing.

─ Chifuyu isn't exactly the best at art but you appreciate his scribbling attempt, you gave him an extra point because he drew your pet next to you.

Kazutora Hanemiya

─ This boy needed some affection since he entered the correctional and you thought of giving him a gift once he completed his sentence.

─ So you set to work on a small figure of him that he could use as a key ring.

─ He hugged you so tightly when he came out of the correctional that he almost left you breathless, he didn't expect any of his old friends to go see him that day and even less he expected a gift from you.

─ He will ask you to teach him the art of clay because he needs to start looking for other hobbies that do not include punching.

─ If he is good at it, you will have many relaxing outings doing this type of craft, if he doesn't master the practice, he will only ask you to make more figurines to decorate his room.

─ He definitely wants you to make earrings to match with you, he brags that his best friend did it to everyone possible, yes, sometimes he'll embarrass you because he spends exalting your work when it's not a big deal most of the time.

─ He supports you in everything, like if you sign up for a figure and creativity contest, he will be by your side on work nights helping you as much as he can.

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solarmorrigan · 1 month ago

Note

Hey, good (?) news; you inspired me to start writing my first fanfic :) cuz you’re inspiring :)

Bad (?) news; this, uh, this shit is hard. Those writers memes weren’t lying. How dare you make me do this (/j, it’s fun, but dam)

How do you stop feeling like you’re moving around cardboard cutouts???

That's very exciting! My condolences on the new hobby. I think "it's fun, but damn" just about sums it up

There are a bunch of different methods for starting to feel like your characters are a little more real, and I'm sure you'll get a different answer from every writer you ask, but here are a few of the things I tend towards:

Sit with your characters. Just hang out with them. Write them having inconsequential conversations. Write them in little slice-of-life pieces. Write about them going to the grocery store, making breakfast, trying to decide whose turn it is to wash the dishes. This takes away the stress of having to make them act in The Plot and instead just lets you focus on who they are how they act as people (which will later help you figure out how to make them act in The Plot)

Ground yourself in little moments. Small details can really make a character feel more real. Take a second to draw attention to a character's preference for or dislike of something, to their quick little reaction to something that's just happened, to a nervous tick or weird little habit. This is like the writing equivalent of zooming in on what that one character is doing in the background; it adds dimension

Look for scenes in TV and movies that make you feel something. Anger, sadness, joy, hope - whatever, as long as it really made you feel. Now basically... copy it. Take what made that scene hit for you and apply it to your characters; have them play out that same emotional scene in their own words. This isn't anything you'd want to post, but it's a bit like using a photo reference as an artist. Copying scenes from other media will help you figure out how to apply those big emotions to your characters, and it'll help you start to move them around a little more fluidly

In the same vein as the above, find things in your own life that make you angry, or sad, or joyful, or whatever, and try to write about the way your characters would feel those emotions. This is a little harder to do, because you're in the middle of living life as it happens, and you're not really looking for experiences that might make good writing fodder, but just try to keep it in mind. You don't have to give the characters your specific life experience, but you can use your own feelings as a jumping off point. Maybe you've never gone through what the character has gone through, but you've probably felt a similar emotion before, and remembering that can help you write a character's emotions and reactions much more vividly (this is also known as "Free Therapy")

(I'm kidding)

(mostly)

Ultimately, though, the thing that's going to give you the most confidence is just... practice. The more you write, the more you start to feel like you know what you're doing, and the more you realize that you're not playing with cardboard cutouts but that you are actually A Wizard and words mean something simply because you say they do, so there.

I do hope you have fun, and if you feel comfortable sharing, I'd be excited to see what you come up with! (If not, that's also understandable, no pressure and please have nice day <3)

#this was probably more answer than you were looking for #I love talking about characterization I'm so sorry #answers from solar #anonymous

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crazylittlejester · 2 months ago

Note

Been thinking about my Royal Depths au lately. the one with the kid Ganon. I will draw the au again probably within the next two months lamo.

Anyways, since I’ve been thinking about that au, I also remembered that one ask I sent you, where I asked what art style you would like to see a loz game have. Combining these two idea, I’ve got another question for you:

What would you like a new LoZ game/story to be about? Like, in RD I made the main character Ravio and had a itty bitty Ganon as one of his party members. What would your LoZ game be about? Would it be a sequel of sorts to another game, or just have some calls backs to another game(like maybe hw who knows 😏)? Would Link be the main character, or would it be a different character like Zelda(like with eow), or maybe a new character that would have an interesting perspective on the LoZ world(like idk a zora or fairy)?

Anyways uh. You’re creative and I like seeing your ideas. You could picture the game to look like the game art style you said earlier(I think it was an Alice in Wonderland type game? Idk it also kinda reminded me of Don’t Starve, art style wise if that rings any bells), if that makes things easier. Idk, with EoW around the corner I’ve been pondering about new LoZ stories like a mad man.

Hope all of this made sense, and have a great rest of your day!

I took a sec to answer this because I have SERIOUS thoughts about it and wanted to make sure i’d have the time to write it all out alskdkddk

i mentioned this about a month ago, and i would absolutely love to write this in fic form one day, and i plan to, it will just take me a LONG time but this is the storyline I would give a Zelda game if I had the power to make one:

I think of “Zelda” as a middle name of sorts, I think each princess has her own first name, but the first daughter of the royal family has that as a middle time and will end up going by that. The protagonist of this game? The eldest daughter of the royal family, and she cannot for the life of her figure out how to get those powers Hylia should’ve gifted her. Ganondorf is becoming more and more of a threat every day, and there’s nothing she can do about it except make sure he can’t get his hands on the triforce, which she’s just barely accomplishing. She thinks it her duty to be out there on the front lines getting shit done because if she can’t do the one thing she’s supposed to (unlock her powers) you best believe she’s out there with a sword kicking ass. She’s also trying to find Link because if the world is ending then there HAS to be a hero, but she literally find him and is getting really frustrated

I would give Ganon a much more compelling story. He’s not born evil, he’s born with as much capacity for good as anyone else, but due to the events of his childhood he becomes something terrible. No matter what he did everyone looked at him like he was going to be awful. They treated him poorly, nothing he could do was right in the eyes of ANYONE. He WANTED to break the cycle, but he couldn’t so to get everyone to just stop and leave him alone he’s seeking total control over everything because in his mind he’ll feel like he can breathe if he does

Now where the fuck is Link you may be asking? Well I firmly believe Hylia is a bit of a gatekeeper (/j) and will only give her magic to the eldest DAUGHTER in her bloodline. No man gets her powers, no thank you. So when the protagonist’s little sister, out of pure panic and desperation, makes an attempt to stop Ganon from destroying Hyrule Castle and her powers roar to life, the three main characters all stop and stare at each other for a minute because what the hell how did the younger sibling do that??

It is at this point the oldest ‘daughter’ realizes officially even Hylia knew he was trans before he did (he’d had his suspicions but this whole thing just confirmed it for him), and he hauls ass to get the Master Sword because with his little sister’s goddess given powers revealed he realizes HIS place in this whole hot mess, he’s Hylia’s HERO not her DAUGHTER, and he and the new Zelda use the power of supportive gay siblings to bonk Ganon over the head hard enough he just factory resets

And then they have group therapy /hj

So yeah, the REAL quest to find Link was the gender journey we had along the way

#jes ask #i will be writing this one day that is a promise #it just might take 30 years #jes talks

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awhorrerstory · 2 years ago

Text

If I hated you

Jill Roberts x f! Reader

Ever since I was 14 I hated Jill. She was amazing, Her hazel eyes that flickered with joy when we’d watch murder documentaries in history class, her cute dimples that showed when Kirby and Trevor talked with her and the way she’d shyly walk around me when we passed each other in the hall.

I used to bully Jill in middle school through high school because of her Tomboy style and her movie nerdiness until she began to date Trevor who tried to fight me multiple times.

And all the reasons I hated her? They were what made me fall for her. I was totally in love with Jill Roberts, I always was. That’s what made me hate her so much, because I was so scared to accept myself and scared about how my family would react…god.

I now just acted like I hated her because I didn’t want to love her. I’m so scared of everything.

Jill and I had a fight today. She was with Trevor smirking and flirting so I hit her books to the floor and she called me a bitch and we started fighting. I told her to fuck off and went to class.

After class I went to the bathroom and as I was washing my hands Jill wrapped her arms around me with one hand over my mouth; “fucked with me on the wrong day, y/n.” Jill says looking at me in the mirror I elbow her and try to get away but stop when I see the bathroom door was locked. Jill chuckles and throws me back against the sink facing the mirror, those hazel eyes turning a slight shade of brown when she looked into mine through the mirror, “you’re just so jealous…” she says as I feel a cold metal against my neck. “J-Jill…” I whimper out as I see the knife against my throat. “You’re so envious…at first I thought it was because of Sidney or Trevor but now…” I feel her free hand run along my waist towards the front of my jeans and she pulls them down and pushes my clit against the corner of the sink causing me to moan slightly, “I can tell by the way you watch me, constantly checking me out, looking to my lips…you were jealous I was with anyone but you…” I blushed hard as she basically ripped me out of the closet sort to speak.

Jill cut my shirt open right down the middle exposing my light blue bra causing Jill to hum as she kissed my neck, her eyes never leaving mine. “Is this what you’ve wanted?” She asks seductively right next to my ear before she began to suck on the lobe gently. I moan softly as she chuckles and begins to pull down my panties so I can feel the cold sink against my throbbing clit, “Jill~shit-“ I whimper feeling her free hand unclipping my bra and letting it fall into the sink, “did you know my favorite color was blue?” She asks as her hands grasped my breasts and I moan softly, my hips bucking causing me to whimper as my clit is stimulated again. Jill cups my cheek and turns my head to face her, a look on her face I’ve never seen before. “I’ve wanted this for a while too baby…” Jill says as she kisses my neck, grinding against my ass and groping my breasts. Her moans were soft and she pants as she humps me until I cum against the sink. “You’re mine.” She says slapping my tit. “Jill…” I whimper as I come down from my high, my juices dripping down my thighs, “nothing happened…if you tell anyone I’ll use that knife on you.” She says as she pulls away from me, leaving me a panting mess as she casually walks out of the bathroom slipping the knife back into her backpack before she fully exits. I shake my head trying to wake myself up, no way that just fucking happened. I feel my phone buzz startling me slightly and look down to see a text;

5187678903: I hope you like scary movies y/n.

-Who is this?

5187678903: ;)

-Jill?

After a few moments there was no further text. I walk out of the bathroom after I fix myself, groaning as I figure out I’ll have to wear my sweatshirt the rest of the day because of Jill. I realize the door is locked and panic but try it and it casually opens. Weird.

I leave and go to my locker where Kirby was causing me to arch my brow, “hey, y/n right?” I nod, “yeah and you’re Kirby?” She nods and hands me a slip of paper, “my number, we have to work on English project together.” I’m hit with a wave of realization, “oh right! Sorry I’ll text you.” I say smiling at her. “Do you want to sit with me?” Kirby asks sweetly, “sure it will be fun, is Jill okay with it though?” “I’m sure she will, she’s pretty forgiving, but don’t you dare be a bitch to her or I’ll personally kill you.” Kirby says glaring at me. I nod and swallow the lump in my throat. I was becoming nervous about seeing Jill again, especially soo soon after she just made me- “y/n, this is Robbie and Charlie, and of course you’ve met Jill.” I say hi to Charlie and Robbie and then sit next to Jill and Kirby. Jill gives me that signature awkward smile I’ve examined over the years while her hand betrayed the look on her face, resting immediately on my thigh possessively. It wasn’t too hard to hide since the seats were already close together, but I’m sure I looked like a blushing mess. Kirby and I talk about our project while Jill debates with the guys about movies. Kirby and I join in on the conversation and I gush about movies and mention a few of Jill’s favorites so I can see those cute dimples. After a while of us talking I realize that Charlie seems to glare at me after I make Jill laugh or smile. Weird. When we’re done with lunch I go to my locker and prepare for my next class when Jill comes up behind me and slips a note in my back pocket before literally disappearing. A rush of excitement bursts through me as I rush to my next class so I can read Jill’s note.

I know you’re going to Kirby’s after school, we’re coming over too, stay a while

Jill

My heart skips a beat and it’s as if a car was about to hit me, even more so when I get a text from Kirby

K- come over tonight for our project

-I will!

K- Meet me at the door after school

-👍

I put my phone away as class starts and space out.

I meet Kirby who was leaning against the arch above the doors of the school and greet her as we head to her car. I couldn’t help but feel watched but I shrugged it off deciding it was probably just because of the recent murders. Kirby tells me about Jill and Olivia and shared her recent traumatic experience with the mysterious ghost faced killer.

“So you do like horror movies?” Kirby asks me as we get to her place. “Yeah I do, Carrie is my favorite, though I don’t really think it’s scary it’s just got a great plot and everything and she’s just so cool.” Kirby agrees as we walk into her house, “wow your house is really nice.” I say to her causing her to smile, “thanks, my parents aren’t home so we got the place to ourselves, until my friends come later that is.” Kirby says putting her bag down next to the couch, “do you want anything?” She asks as she goes into the kitchen. “Some juice if you have it.” I say as I look around her living room. I notice a picture of my parents, Kirby’s parents and Jill’s parents with us standing in front of them. I hold the photo, deja vu clouding my mind as I remember those nights where we’d play together while our parents talked and laughed in Jill’s living room. When Jill and I were close and I let my feelings for her tear us apart…

Kirby comes back in the room causing me to jump slightly, “sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.” She says with a small chuckle as she hands me my juice and looks at what I’m looking at, “remember when we all used to be friends?” Kirby says smiling down softly at the photo, “we used to be so happy…what happened y/n?” Kirby asks me softly. I begin to cry knowing I could tell her, especially since Kirby is bi. “I…I fell in love with Jill.” I say my lip trembling and looking away in shame. “Hey! Don’t be upset about it, it’s just kinda crazy that to hated her for so long when she was always crazy about you.” I nod crying and looking away, “I should’ve just talked to you guys…or at least you, all of us were best friends, I knew I could trust you and everything but I just…my parents were pissed when they found out I was lesbian, I was just scared you’d react the same way or…Jill would.” I say looking away from her. “Hey it’s okay, I’m sure if you talk to Jill it’ll be okay.” Kirby says giving me a reassuring smile. We work on our project until Jill gets here, then Robbie and Charlie. Kirby puts on Halloween and we all watch it together with popcorn and all. Midway through the movie I feel Jill put her arm around me causing me to blush but continue to watch. Jill talks to Robbie and Charlie casually about the way the film is edited while her hand rubs my thigh, under the blanket Kirby had over all of us. I pretend to rest against Jill’s shoulder so I can cover my blush and avoid any suspicious gazes. My plan seems to be working until I feel Jill squeeze my thigh then whispers; “I know you’re awake, they fell asleep.” I look up at her, biting my lip as Jill examines me. “Let’s go to the guest room.” Jill whispers, pulling me to sit up and leads me there. Jill closes the door, locking it behind her before she pushes me on to the bed and grabs my face possessively, pulling me in to our very passionate first kiss. I moan against her lips as her hand goes to my neck and applies pressure to it causing me to whimper against her lips. Jill chuckled as she yanked down my pants to grab my ass in her hands, “you’re all mine y/n.” Jill states against my lips as she kisses me again, this time more hungry and greedy, as if she wanted to taste every inch of my mouth. I push her away slightly, “I want to talk to you.” I say looking for the woman I grew feelings for, “not now…” jill says flipping me onto my front. She pulls down my pants so my ass is out against her front and she rocks my hips a bit so I grind against her.

I go to say something, but when I feel her press her fingers against my clit, my mouth gapes, and a breath escapes my lips. She begins rubbing tight circles into my clit, and my hands move to grab the sheets of the mattress as pleasure pulsates through me, “you’re so fucking wet y/n. This all for me?” I feel two fingers slide inside of me, and a gasp escapes my lips. I bite down on my bottom lip to stop the sounds that threaten to escape my throat causing Jill to chuckle, “I want to hear your moans baby…” she curls her fingers inside of me and a moan escapes my lips, “good girl.” Jill praises as she slaps my ass. I whimper but push my ass towards her wanting more. Jill kisses my neck as she continues to finger me; “all this time, you said you hated me…who knew I’d have you whimpering under me?” She says rubbing my clit faster.

“Do you want more baby? Do you want me to fuck you?” She asks kissing right under my ear and down my exposed neck. I whimper again but don’t answer. She chuckles darkly; “why are you still being a bitch? I thought we established that you wanted me this whole time.” Jill says as I hear her take off her jeans and before I could say anything I feel that familiar cold metal dragging against my stomach then cutting my bra again, the same for the back my shirt so Jill could push it off, revealing my naked torso to her, “god, did I do this to you baby? Your thighs are shaking.” Jill teases as she rubs around my clit, avoiding where I wanted her touch, “jill~” I feel something big and hard enter me and gasp at my walls stretching around the silicone. “You like this baby?” Jill asks as she roughly fits the dildo inside of me, giving me little time to adjust to the large size. "Fuck you're tight," jill mumbles, grabbing my hip with her hand with the knife, the cold metal sliding against my cunt causing me to shiver "Can barely fit y/n…” Jill mumbles as she rubs my clit with the knife handle, her blood running down the blade down to the handle then down my thighs as she pounds into me from behind, “fuck…so hot…” jill mumbles as she fucks me harder, her hand moving the knife slowly up and down my body and around my sensitive nipples, the pain of the knife puncturing me every few moments only making me more horny, “touch that pretty clit for me y/n.” Jill says dragging the knife gently across my throat. “J-Jill-“ “fucking do it slut.” Jill says harshly as she slaps my ass.

I instantly reach between my thighs and feel just how wet I am before pressing my fingers to my clit, beginning to rub tight circles into it and making me moan. “That’s a good girl…take my cock.” Jill mumbles causing me to whimper and let my legs spread wider for the girl on top of me, “j-Jill! I’m gonna-I’m-“ she stops and pulls out of me causing me to whine. “Not yet baby…” Jill lowers herself between my legs and dives right in, goes for my clit and works on it until I feel like I’m going to cum again, and then she licks inside of me, coiling and flicking her tongue, her hands finding my ass and kneading it roughly, “J-Jill-“ one of my hands goes to her hair to pull her closer, and her eyes flick up to me, hooded and pupils blown wide, her once green eyes turning a dark hazel, the same as in the bathroom. I jerk my hand away on instinct, her eyes flickering with annoyance so I put my hand back into her hair causing Jill to smirk against my clit.

She pulls away for a moment to carve her name into my inner thigh causing me to groan in pain turning pleasure as she licks the blood from my thigh, then returning to eat me out, her nose rubbing against my clit and her hands on my thighs pulling them on to her shoulders so she can thrust her tongue inside me. She continues until I’m about to cum again then pulls away with a pop. “Jill please…I need to cum…” I whine cupping her cheek. Her eyes lock with mine as she laps up the blood from her freshly carved name on my thigh once again then kisses me passionately as she begins to rub her bare cunt against mine, I was so caught up before, not even realizing Jill took her pants and panties off and was just in her black lace bra causing me to blush as I look at her, “Can you take it off?” I ask her between kisses. She nods and begins to take it off and I eagerly help her wanting to see her fully. I rub Jill’s nipples and kiss her passionately as she humps me, skin on skin and rubbing our clits together. Jill’s nails dig in to my waist to keep me close to her, she keeps a steady rhythm, slow and deliberate, making my pussy ache for more. “J-Jill…please let me cum…” I whimper hugging her tightly and wrapping my legs around her waist tighter. She kisses me as my legs spasm and I squirt. Jill cums, with a soft sort of gasp and a slow shudder, grinding against me once, twice, three times more, before she stops. “Fuck…” She mumbles as she places her face in the crook of my neck giving me a gentle kiss on my collar bone then resting her head back into the crook of my neck since I was now straddling her. She pushed me onto the bed while placing open mouthed kisses on my face to my lips and we make out. Her lips becoming addicting, her hands resting on my hips “I-Jill-“ She pulls away slightly and looks up at me, “yeah?” I bite my lip as i look at her, “I’m sorry for everything I did…i was just trying to convince myself i didn’t love you…” Jill’s eyes remain the same and she didn’t react causing me to panic, “i-I’m sorry i shouldn’t have said anything, we were having a great night and-“

She kisses me cutting me off, “Stop talking.” She says as she pulls me into a passionate kiss again.

When I wake up the next morning I’m in Jill’s arms; she’s holding me against her chest, her chin resting on my head and her arms wrapped around me. I was so happy to be in her arms but there was one thing. I needed to pee.

I slowly moved from Jill’s hold and look for my shirt and panties only to find my shirt destroyed causing me to huff and grab Jill’s. I button it up quickly as i already pulled up my panties. I go to the bathroom and when i come out i see Kirby on the couch smirking at me, “so…Your talk went well?” I blushed hard and look away, “i-i um..” “It did.” Jill says, coming out in my hoodie from yesterday. She approaches me and grabs my hand in hers, “did the boys go home?” Jill asks Kirby. She nods, “ok.” She says pulling me to the bedroom again.

#smut #scream #jill roberts #scream 4 #kirby reed

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spgothkidsheadcanons · 2 years ago

Note

hi!! i really like your blog! and I was wondering if you could write michael/reader nsfw? I really love your headcanons, thank you for your work💕

Hi friend! Thank you so much! I try my hardest to make sure that y’all are happy with what I write!

Hoo hoo hoo I love this ask. Literally my favorite. I have 3 fics of just Michael/Reader lemons because I’m down bad for our Goth rockstar

If you’re interested in those, let me know if you’d like me to upload them!

I saw this ask and decided the best thing to do would be the NSFW Alphabet because what better opportunity than now, and I want to dip my toes into the NSFW pool before throwing myself in, I hope you understand!

I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: NSFW, down bad behavior, mentions of choking and bondage

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Michael’s a very attentive partner. After he wears you out, he’s immediately out of bed grabbing a wash cloth and some water or Gatorade. He knows he gets rough when he wants to, so he makes up for it by taking care of you before taking care of himself

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

He loves his hands. His hands are beautiful, with long fingers, and they look even better wrapped around your throat when he’s pounding into you

On you, he loves your face. He loves watching your eyes roll back when he hits that specific spot, and loves how your lips wrap around his dick when you go down on him. He thinks you make the cutest faces when he’s between your legs and returning the favor

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

He cums A LOT. Michael loves cumming on your stomach, thighs, ass or back. You’d have to beg him for weeks to even THINK about finishing inside if you two aren’t married.

But if you are married… 😏

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Michael can’t seem to keep his mind off of you. Which sounds sweet, but when he’s pitching a tent in the middle of a studio session because he can’t stop thinking of you bent over a counter, you’ll realize he really is just a horn dog in disguise. He’s always thinking about you naked, on your knees, bent over a counter, eating you out. He’s got a very dirty mind

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

He’s had sex before you, of course. He was (and is) hot, everyone liked him because he was the mysterious bad boy. He wasn’t inexperienced when you two got together, but being with you, he’s really honed in on his bedroom skills

F= Favorite position

Doggystyle. He likes being able to pull your hair and watch your ass shake with each thrust into you. He also likes lotus position, as it’s very intimate and he can watch your face as you try to get yourself off

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

He’s not super duper serious during sex, but he doesn’t expect full blown jokes or laughing. During foreplay, though, he lives for your giggles when he accidentally tickles you or you both are struggling to find a good position. He’ll make sure that you don’t have the breath to laugh once you two really get started

H= Hair (grooming habits)

Not unruly, but not clean shaven. He trims himself once or twice a week, just enough to make it comfortable for the both of you.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Depending on the occasion, Michael can be either sweet and slow or fucking you like an animal. When the both of you are on a date night or just spending time together is when you get the good, drawn out sex.

When he’s running late, or has a show he has to get to is when he flips a switch. He’ll have you on your knees and fucking your throat or have you pressed against a wall, chasing his own orgasm. He feels bad he doesn’t always get you off, but he more than makes up for it when he gets home

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

He only really jacks off if he’s away on tour or he’s out of the country visiting his family. Michaels has hundreds and hundred of pictures of you in lewd positions that he always sneaks away to pleasure himself to. He loves when you send him more ammunition to keep him occupied until he can get home to get his hands on you

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Michael’s very vanilla for the most part. He does like to throw in some ass smacking and choking, but he’s an old fashioned guy. If you do ever want to try something, he’s always 100% down as long as both parties are comfortable with your desires.

Might have a little bit of an exhibition kink. The risk of being caught just does something for him.

Definitely loves having you tied up or having himself tied up, just some light bondage

Really really loves to hear you begging for him. He also loves to hear you praising him when he’s giving you exactly what you want.

Definitely has a breeding kink

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

At home, first and foremost. He has taken you to his concerts before and loved taking you backstage to fuck you, knowing at any point his manager or bandmates could walk in and see you two

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

-When you wear anything that shows off your legs or chest. Particularly loves it when you wear a pair of too-short shorts or just your underwear and a tank top

-When you kiss/bite his neck

-Watching you get yourself off

-Sitting on his face

-Anything about you really seems to turn him on. Like I said, he’s always thinking about you, so whatever you do gets him going and ready to take you as soon as he steps foot through the door

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

Anything that has to do with causing actual physical harm, bodily fluids, adding another person into your bedroom escapades, heavy BDSM. He doesn’t like sharing you and he doesn’t like hurting you

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Prefers to give, but does not mind if you want to return the favor

He’s got the tongue of a God, and he’s not shy about showing you just how talented he truly is

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

It depends on how he’s feeling. If he’s lovey, wants to spend time just watching your react to his every touch, he’s slow, sweet, very attentive to all of your needs.

If he’s angry at something or just unbelievably horny, he’s 0-100. He’s slamming into you faster than you can even think, almost like he’s using you just to get off. He’ll make sure you’re still finishing, but he shows no mercy when he’s pent up and frustrated.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Michael definitely does not prefer quickies. He wants to show you all of his love and takes hours to do so. He settles for quickies if one of you are in a hurry, but if he knows he wants to have sex before something, he usually always makes time to make sure the both of you are thoroughly satisfied

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

He’s set in his ways, but if you want to try something, he’ll do just about anything.

He does want to try taking you into a secluded area in public to have some fun, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Michael can go for hours if you let him. He’s always had a high sex drive, so he can go multiple rounds without needing a break. Of course, he’ll let you take a break, but as soon as you’re ready again, he’s all over you.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

He knows you have a toy or two to help yourself when he’s not there. He’s also definitely incorporated your toys into your sex life, drinking in all of your noises and faces as he’s using a vibrator on your most sensitive areas.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

Michael’s a little bit of a tease, but nothing too major. He loves ghosting his hands over your body, hovering his fingers against your most needy areas, watching you buck up to try and get him to finally touch you. He also loves to overstimulate by edging, but he doesn’t unless he has consent.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

He’s amazing at dirty talk, and he hates to admit that he gets whiny sometimes. It’s usually when he’s wanted you for so long and he’s finally able to have you that he starts whining your name.

He moans and cusses under his breath, praising your body while he’s rutting into you

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

He’s a hair puller. And he loves having his own hair tugged at. When he’s settled between your legs and holding your hips down so he can pleasure you, P L E A S E grab a hold of his curls and tug that shit. It drives him absolutely wild

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

A little over 9 inches, average girth, cut.

He has a vein on the underside of his dick that drives him wild if you pay special attention to it

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

He’d have sex 6 times a day if he could. But he knows that’s not possible, so he usually goes at least once daily, or twice every other day. Michael has a very high sex drive, but if you don’t want sex, he can handle himself just fine

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

He makes sure that you’re okay and have everything you need before taking care of himself. If you want him to take a shower with you, he will. If you want him to change the sheets after a session, he will. He makes sure that you’re settled before he even thinks about going to bed.

#sp goth kids #south park goth kids #south park michael #sp fanfiction #south park headcanons #sp michael #goth kids #sp tall goth #south park tall goth #south park

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pensat-i-fet · 2 years ago

Text

Take Two: Part 1 (Rúben Dias)

Part 2 l Part 3

Masterlist

Wattpad

“So the movie is being filmed in London, right?”, asked Mariana.

“Mainly, but there are other locations in England where you’ll have to do some small scenes”.

“Ok, I hope it’s not too cold there”.

She could see her agent rolling her eyes at her. Anyone could tell she had been unbearable lately. Complaining about every little detail when she usually just worked and never mentioned anything in a negative way. But moving to England…it brought back too many memories. The main one was her ex, who was now living there. But she wouldn’t have to see him at all. She’ll go to London and all those little towns in the middle of nowhere and get this film done. After the success of her last two roles, everyone agreed it was time for her to go for a role that could get her nominated for some type of award. And this role was exactly that.

“Ready to go?”, asked Amelia, her make-up artist and best friend. Life in Hollywood was lonely. One didn’t know who they could really trust, but Amelia had proven to be a good friend multiple times.

“Yeah”, she answered and entered the jet.

The flight was going to be a long one, so they planned on spending it watching a couple of movies and trying to get some sleep to better adjust to the British timezone once they landed.

When they made it to England, Mariana was tired and desperate for a relaxing bath.

“Want to order some food and watch a movie?”, asked Amelia.

“Sorry Ames, I’m shattered”.

“Ok, grandma. Do you want me to get your schedule to your room when Felix gets here? So he doesn’t bother you?”

“Please!”

Back in her room, she quickly took her clothes off and got the bath ready. The selection of oils wasn’t that great for a 5-star hotel but it’d have to do. Just another annoying thing to add to her already growing list of complaints.

Her bath time was like meditation time for her. Almost sacred. She didn’t listen to any music or watch any movies. She just closed her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to empty her mind. And more often than not, she fell asleep.

“Babe?”, she heard Amelia say from the other side of the door. She always got a spare key to Mariana’s room.

“Coming!”

The water was starting to get cold and she felt a chill all over her body when she got out of the bath.

“What is it?”, she asked once she was back in the room.

“Your schedule”, said Amelia, with a weird look on her face.

“What’s that look for?”

“Just look at the schedule”.

And so she did.

-Oct 10th-20th: filming in London. Parts 3 and 5 from the script.

-Oct 22nd-26th: filming in Birmingham. Studio. Parts 1, 7 and 8.

-Nov 1st- Dec 12th: filming in Manchester. Rest of the script.

“I thought I was filming in London!”, she yelled. “That motherfucker!”

“Babe, no. Wait! Mariana!”.

But Amelia’s plea fell on deaf ears because Mariana left her room, wearing only a bathrobe, and ready to confront Felix. How could he do that to her?

“Open the door right now!”, she screamed, almost punching the door instead of knocking.

“You got the schedule, then”, said Felix, as if nothing had happened.

“You lied to me! You lied to me multiple times! I said England was bad enough but Manchester?”

“It’s the best role you could get to finally get the award you crave so much. I’m doing what’s best for you”.

“You’re fired”, screamed Mariana.

“No, I’m not. You are going to bed now and you’ll realize that I’m doing what’s best for you. Then you’ll stop being a brat and you’ll thank me when you do your speech at the stupid Oscars”.

Her fury was getting worse and worse. How dare he talk to her like that?

“Felix, do you think you’re untouchable or something?”, she hissed.

“No, I just know I’m good at my job and that I’m doing what’s best for my client. No, actually, not only that. I’m doing what she, what you asked me to do. This is the role you wanted. The film has to be done in Manchester too and that’s that. I can’t tell them where to film when they’ve been preparing for this movie for months just because you don’t want to be there”.

“Yes, I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to be in the same country as him and I don’t want to be in the same city as him. The last time we were seen in the same place, people went mad. I can’t do that again!”

“I thought you were over him”.

“I am”, she said, firmly.

“Then act like it. People won’t even know where you are filming apart from London. I’ll deal with the paparazzi”.

“I still hate you”, she said, leaving and conceding this defeat. She knew he was right and that annoyed her most than anything else.

London was full of paparazzi trying to catch her and the rest of the cast filming scenes for the movie. Security had a hard time getting rid of them. But as Felix had predicted, by the time they moved to Birmingham, no one followed them. She even managed to go shopping around the city centre without bodyguards and not one person bothered her. That felt good. Almost like being back to the times before she became famous. It definitely lifted her spirit. She hadn’t been her cheerful self for a while and she could tell that the stories that would come out of this set would be about what a bitch she was.

She was just tired. And homesick. And lonely. So lonely.

But Birmingham was great. She loved filming in beautiful locations but there was something about studios that she loved even more. And even though some of the hardest scenes had to be filmed on those sets, she enjoyed it. Comedy wasn’t her forte, she was a drama actress and she planned on proving that to everyone with this film.

“Here”, said Amelia when she sat down in Mariana’s bed.

“What is it?”, she asked, unwrapping a box. “Under eye patches?”, she laughed.

“That’s the best present I can give you. Crying so much for those scenes is making your eyes too puffy”.

“Aren't you the best make-up artist?”, teased Mariana. “Then you’ll be able to make me look good next week despite the puffy eyes”.

“I don’t know, babes. I can’t perform miracles”.

And they both fell on her bed laughing. It was so good to have someone she could be herself with. She had missed that feeling.

Somehow, October had already finished. The filming of the movie was going well but it was time for the biggest part of it. The part that was filmed in Manchester.

“It’ll be fine”, said Felix, holding Mariana’s hand while they were being driven to the hotel.

“So you keep saying”.

“I got it under control”, he reassured her.

Felix wasn’t only an agent and publicist, he was her other good friend. Someone who knew how to help her in every situation and not just because of money. He had proven that many times before as well.

“What’s my schedule for the days before we go back to filming?”

“We have a photoshoot for Vogue. It took a lot to get it so you better make the best out of it. And then we have a gala. I managed to get Louis Vuitton to dress you for it. We’re doing the fitting tomorrow”.

“Sounds good”, she said, sighing and looking out of the window at the city she’ll be spending a lot of time in. His city.

"I don't like not having you as my make-up artist", complained Mariana on her way to the photoshoot.

"You know how these fashion people are. I'm not good enough for them".

"They don't know much then".

"Hey, you ok?", asked Amelia, noticing her friend looking out of the window with sad eyes.

"Just one of those moments when everything feels like too much, you know?”

"Well, I'm here to talk".

"I know", said Mariana, putting her head on her friend's shoulder and closing her eyes.

When they got to the studio, everyone started to move her around to get her ready. She felt three hands pulling at her hair while others tried to put clothes on her to see what looked best. It was unbearable.

"So you're an actress?", asked one of the women doing her makeup.

"Yes".

"Would I know you from something?"

"I don't know. Did you watch the last Jake Matthew's movie?"

"Oh yeah, the one with the cute blonde on it, right?"

"That one, yeah", she sighed, knowing she meant her coprotagonist, Josh.

"He's so hot. Who were you in the movie?"

"The one that played his wife".

"Can't remember that".

And that was the story of her career. Being the pretty actress next to the actor who got all the fame and recognition. That's why she was tired of those movies and wanted to do something serious. Something real. Something that showed people she was good at her job.

"Wait", said the stylist. "Didn't you date a footballer?"

From the corner of her eye, Mariana saw Amelia looking at her worryingly.

"No. You must be confusing me with someone else", she answered, wanting to avoid the conversation altogether.

"Yeah, the City guy. The hot Portuguese".

"Who?", asked another one of the make-up artists.

"I can't remember his name. My boyfriend loves him and I love looking at him”, she laughed making everyone else join her. “Are you sure you didn't date him?"

"Confident", said Mariana with a fake smile. It was a good thing she was really good at her job.

The shoot lasted three long hours and by the time she was done, she could overhear the photographer telling the stylist that maybe one of the photos could be used to which she responded that it was ok because “no one knew her in the UK anyways”.

Mariana took her coat and left without even saying goodbye. She was so tired of all these fake people. And of having to be fake herself.

"You ok?", asked Felix when she got to the hotel's lobby.

"Sure".

"How was the shoot?"

"Alright".

"Do you know how to speak long sentences?", he asked her, annoyed at her attitude.

"I'm just tired. I'll take a bath and go to bed".

"No, you have the Louis Vuitton fitting".

"Now?"

"Don't whine".

"Felix, please", she begged, almost crying. She just needed to be alone for an hour or two.

He hugged her and let her use him as support like she had many times.

"Just do this quickly", he whispered, "and then I'll get you your favourite food and leave you alone until tomorrow evening, ok?"

"Ok", she sighed and walked to her room, where the Louis Vuitton people were waiting for her. Time for more fake smiles. When had she gotten so good at faking?

Felix had kept his promise and allowed her to have a morning off. She spent some of her time going through the script. Practising her accent as her coach had taught her. Most people were surprised to find she wasn't American when they heard her talk in English letting her accent come through.

Once she was done, she asked Amelia to go shopping and for lunch. She didn't really know the area but was sure she could find a cute little place to eat. She tended to avoid the big spaces…even if no one really knew her in the UK. She thought about that line again, rolling her eyes. Who knew them two anyway?

"So because of the gorgeous neckline of the dress, I thought about putting your hair up. And then we'll do a smokey eye in the same shade as the dress. It'll compliment your eyes so well", said Amelia, excitedly. She loved her job just as much as Mariana loved hers, and she also loved playing with her face as if she was a doll. If it made her friend happy, she'd let her experiment as much as she wanted.

"I'm sure you'll make me look perfect but don't use all the time on me, you need to get ready too".

"Eeeeek!", screamed Amelia, making everyone look at them. "Sorry, I still can't believe you convinced them to let me have a dress too so I could attend the event with you".

"A bit stupid of me to take someone prettier than me as a plus one but oh well, I'll allow you to outshine me for one night", she laughed.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure all the big celebs will fall in love with me".

"You never know", said Mariana with a wink.

After a long shower, she started to get ready with the help of Amelia. For once, it was just the two of them, plus the occasional visit from Felix, and it just felt like two friends getting ready for a night out. Mariana didn’t stop smiling the whole time.

"Ready?", asked Mariana when they were about to leave the limo to join the red carpet.

"No, but I can't hide now, can I?"

"No", she laughed, taking her friend's hand.

The red carpet was another place where she could just act and pretend. She kept her head high while she heard the photographers yelling all types of things at her. And once she reached the end of the carpet, she took a deep breath.

"That was amazing!!!!", said Amelia.

Mariana turned to see her beaming. At least someone enjoyed the experience.

The aim of the night was to show her clothes and to say hello to the important people. Or those who everyone thought were important people.

"Can I steal her from you for a second?", asked Felix smoothly while taking her away from everyone else.

"What is it?"

"I need you to not freak out", he said, making her freak out.

"Why?"

"Rúben is here".

She could feel her chest contracting at the words. What was he doing here?

"How?"

"I don't know. I checked the list at least 20 times and his name wasn't there. It isn't there now. But he is here. Unless he's got a twin that showed up at the event and I find that a bit unlikely".

Mariana closed her eyes to try and control her reaction. She couldn't see him. They couldn't be seen together. Not again.

"I need the toilet", she said.

"Don't run away without telling me, please".

"I won't", she promised. And continued her way to the bathrooms.

She kept looking at herself in the mirror trying to find there the strength to deal with this moment. Her face looked pale from the shock of the news and her eyes were watering. But she wouldn't let anyone notice how affected she was. She would just say goodbye to everyone and leave before Rúben could even realize she was there.

Determined, she made her way back to where she thought Felix would be.

"Ana?", she gulped after hearing that voice. His voice. And that nickname. No one called her that anymore. She made sure of it.

"Hi Rúben", she said back, turning to look at him. Seeing him up close after such a long time made her knees feel weak. He had changed a little, but not much. He still looked like her Rúben and that made her heart beat too fast. Hearts can be so stupid sometimes.

"I didn't expect you to be here".

"Yeah, same. I gotta go and talk to people. It was nice seeing you, though", she said and tried to get away from him as quickly as possible.

"Don't go", he said, holding her arm. The contact made her skin burn. "Can't we talk and maybe catch up? We haven't seen each other in so long".

"I don't want people seeing us together", she said and saw him flinch.

"Ok".

"I…I didn't mean it like that. I just, you remember the last time we were in the same restaurant and people thought we were back together. It was madness for our publicists. And we weren't even there the same day".

"Is that all you care about now? About publicists and what people think of you?", he said, with a sad look.

"Don't judge me like that. You play the same game. And I have to care. You don't get how hard this career is".

"Whatever you say, Mariana”, he said, making her own name sound like an insult. “I'll leave you so I don't taint your perfect image".

His words tickled her.

"Don't be a child", she said, following him and tripping on her long gown. Damn it!

"You ok?", asked Rúben, kneeling down to check on her.

"Yeah, just twisted my ankle. But I'll be fine".

"Here. Let me help".

She took his hand and let him pull her up and closer to him than she had been in a very long time. They both were thinking the same. It was clear in the way they looked at each other.

A camera flash woke them up from their daydreaming.

"Fuck! Great!", said Mariana, separating herself from Rúben.

"Do you need help? To go back to your people?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine. You enjoy your night".

And she ran to where she thought Felix would be, but couldn't find him at first. Her panic kept rising but Amelia found her to save the day once again.

"You ok?"

"No. Can we go?"

"Of course. You've done the red carpet already and talked to reporters. Let's go find a car".

Once they were back in their comfortable pyjamas, Amelia made them some hot chocolate and they sat down on the bed to talk.

"I'm sorry I cut the night short, Ames. I know you wanted to experience this kind of event but seeing him…".

"Hey, I get it", she told her, holding her hand. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know. We hadn't really seen each other since our break up and…I just, I…having him so close and talking to him, it felt so natural. But then we were already getting annoyed at each other. It confused me".

"He was your first love. It's understandable".

Rúben wasn't just her first love. He was her only love.

"I just hope I don't see him again while I'm here. I don't need this".

"I'll get him banned from all of the places we go to", said Amelia, trying to make her friend laugh and achieving it.

"It should be fine. No more events. Just work and then we go back to LA".

"Yes", agreed Amelia. "Do you want me to stay with you tonight?"

"Please".

The next morning, Mariana woke up determined to not let her encounter with Rúben affect her.

"Morning Fifi", she said to Felix, joining him at his table for breakfast.

"You are in a good mood", he said, like it was a bad thing.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Have you checked your social media?", he asked.

"No, why?"

She had actually avoided her phone last night. It wouldn't have been the first time she felt vulnerable and went to Rúben's Instagram to check what he was up to. Seeing him moving on with his life both helped her move on with her own and made her hurt. It depended on the day.

"See it for yourself", he said, giving her his iPad.

There he had collected all the articles about her and Rúben. The photo featured in all of them was of them holding hands and looking into each other's eyes. She couldn't deny they looked like a couple.

The headlines and articles weren't much better. All of them wondered if her being in Manchester had anything to do with him, if they had decided to give their relationship a second chance.

The hardest part was seeing all the old photos they posted. All of those photos from their happy times together. She had those photos saved and looked at them sometimes, remembering the good times. They actually tended to lift her spirit but they did the exact opposite this time.

What would be Rúben's reaction to all of this? Would he care? He seemed upset at her for being bothered by what people could think but would he just brush it off and move on? She wished she could ask him. But asked Felix instead.

"What do Rúben's people think of this?"

"I still haven't been able to talk to them", he told her, disappointing her. "Are you ok?"

"No", she said, laughing sadly. "But I will be. People will forget in a couple of weeks like they did the last time, right?"

"We can hope. Besides, you're back to filming soon and can concentrate on that".

"Yes", she said with a smile. "I'll do that".

For the next couple of days, Mariana concentrated on work. She and her co-lead had decided to do some rehearsals on their own. It was great to finally work with someone who took his job as seriously as she did. And that allowed her to forget about Rúben for a couple of hours every day. Until she had to go back to the hotel and ask Amelia to stay with her and take her phone. She was so tempted to contact Rúben. Felix told her his publicists kept ignoring his calls and emails and she didn't know what to think of that. Did he not care at all? Did he not care about her being hurt by this situation? She wondered about how he was dealing with it all the time.

"Hear me out", said Felix when he got to her trailer where she was going through her lines.

"Nothing good has ever come out of your mouth after saying that. Plus, we are in a public place and you know I can't make a scene. So rip the band-aid quickly so I can refuse your idea just as quickly and we move on".

"You need to fake date Rúben".

Out of all the things he had ever said, that was the craziest one yet.

"I'm sorry. Are you on drugs?"

"I've tried to keep you away from all of it, but everyone is going crazy over your photos together. Your name has never been mentioned in the press this much and his social media engagement has gone crazy. And his publicists need the good press. He's been single for too long and that leads to rumours they don't like. A serious boyfriend image gets contracts more easily. You know how it works".

"No, you're actually high. I'll get someone to get a cup you can pee in and test it".

"Mariana, come on. It wouldn't be your first rodeo".

And that hurt more than the suggestion of this publicity stunt with Rúben. Yes, she had done the same with her last two co-protagonists. Everyone in Hollywood did it. But this was different.

"It's not the same. I dated Rúben for two years and it was very real. I can't act when it comes to him. I'm not a sociopath", she said, fighting the tears.

"I know it would be hard for you. It wasn't my idea, you know?"

"Whose idea was it?"

"Rúben's PR people".

Why would they want that? Didn't people just assume football players slept around? Wouldn't they prefer for him to be single so a potential cheating scandal could be avoided? It made no sense.

"What would I get from that? He's the one who wins in this situation but what about me? He isn't even famous in America and that's my main market".

"All fair points", conceded Felix. "But you really wanted to get that role in the next movie by your favourite Portuguese director and this would help. You’ve been away for so long, people don’t even see you as Portuguese anymore but he represents the national team in soccer".

"Football", she corrected him but Felix ignored her.

"And I've already gotten requests from many magazines asking to feature you both if you are back together. Do you know how hard it was to get one photo of you in British Vogue? And now I have all these Portuguese magazines asking to have you on their covers".

If it was someone else, she would have said yes. She hadn't been interested in dating ever since her break up with Rúben anyways.

"Can I think about it?", she asked.

"Talk to him".

“I don’t…I can't”.

“Talk to him”.

But she wasn't sure that was going to help.

After much debating and getting Amelia's advice, Mariana decided to talk to Rúben. She needed to know if this was as crazy of an idea for him as it was for her. It had to be. He would have never accepted something like this before and she doubted he had changed that much in these two years.

Many meeting spots were out of the equation because of how public they were. And so was Rúben's apartment. Paparazzi had been there ready to get a photo of the two of them for days. So they met at one of his teammate's houses.

"So, what do you think?", she asked.

"I don't know. When I was first told about it, I wanted to tell them to fuck off but they made good points, I guess".

"That's why we hired them. They make crazy ideas sound slightly logical", she said with a small laugh.

"I guess. Um…so what do you think of all of it?"

"I mean, the decision is yours, Rúben. I have so much work between filming and castings. I don't have time to date anyways, so there's no risk of meeting someone. But if you did and this got in your way, I'd feel so bad and…".

"What do you mean not having time for dating?", he interrupted her. "You were dating those actors you worked with. So there is time for that".

When she looked up at him, she realized how quickly he understood what her look meant.

"It was also fake".

She nodded.

"So you haven't been with anyone else since we broke up?", he asked.

"No. I mean, I've been with men but…nothing serious. You?"

"Same".

And there was something about that admission that made both of them feel relieved.

"So, are we doing this?", asked Rúben.

"If we do it’s with one condition. Non-negotiable".

"What?"

"We don't lie to our parents", she said. "I loved your parents and mine loved you. I can't lie to them about this. Give them…hope, you know?"

"We'll disappoint them instead, then?"

"Better than lying to them", she said, seriously. It really was her only condition.

"Deal", he said, offering his hand for her to shake. And that's how they embarked on what could be their best idea…or the worst.

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias angst #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer fluff #footballer fanfiction #foootballer fanfic #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias fanfiction #footballer angst

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willshipanything-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Breaking the Rules- Chapter 16

Not quite 3 weeks between chapter this time! 🙃 I had some time off work, so obviously I got nothing done and procrastinated the hours away!!

We had smut last chapter, and from here on out we're going to be going downhill very fast- lots of rage and sadness and all that lovely stuff!

As usual, warning tags apply, so minors DNI!

Full tags, as well as the fic if you prefer, is on AO3 here.

Full tumblr chapter index can be found here.

Enjoy my lovelies! ✌️✨💜

(Below is an almost actual re-enactment of Al and Y/N this chapter)

Chapter 16- 7741

Mr Albert Shaw,

7741 Tennyson Avenue,

Galesburg, Denver,

CO.

There it was. In black and white, typed onto some nondescript white envelope that had found its way into the stack of bills and junk mail and flyers you’d been casually rifling through. It wasn’t the contents of the letter; that didn’t matter in the least. It was the typescript on the front that had your stomach churning. Not the state, or city, or street. Not the name. But the number. Those four little numbers in the address that had your heart feeling like it had been tossed into a woodchipper, pulverized and torn asunder. 7741. Not the number of the house in which you were standing, wide-mouthed and paralyzed in the middle of the kitchen. 7741 was that house. The house across the street.

You did a double-take, looking at each letter again, flicking through the stack of envelopes.

Mr. Albert Shaw, 7740 Tennyson Avenue….. Albert J. Shaw, 7740 Tennyson….. Albert Shaw, 7740….. Albert Shaw, 7741…..

Fuck. No. No no no. It had been weeks- weeks- since you’d decided to stop asking about that house, and what secrets you suspected Al was still keeping from you. Weeks since you’d surrendered yourself to Al’s distractions, supplying your own diversions too, all in the name of blissful ignorance. Weeks since you’d taken Al’s paltry excuses at face value- but you supposed a man who wore so many faces was adept at concealing secrets and truths with ease. But the irrefutable truth stared up at you from the flimsy envelope in your hand. Al had lied. Again. That last thought stung the most. After everything: one more lie.

There had been progress. No doubt in your mind there had been. Al’s childhood come to light. Those hidden shames, the horrific abuses, the tragic past. And all along, you’d known the worst of this man, the things he was capable of. If there was one more secret, one more hurdle for the pair of you to surmount, would it really be so difficult for Al to take that leap of faith?

The sorrow of it all might have hit you harder, had your rage not overtaken you right there, your suddenly closed fist crumpling the mail in your hand. You had been stupid enough to believe his lies (or at least, to allow the fallacy of all to wash over you). Just thinking about Al made your throat growl, your limbs shake, the weeks and weeks of deceit unleashing emotions inside of you too big to be contained. You pictured Al. That silver tongue that you wanted to rip right from his mouth. That smirk you wished you could punch, knocking out those crooked teeth. That broad chest you wanted to shove full force, wanted to pummel with your fists because WHY couldn’t he see how much lying to you would hurt?

Al had been late to work that morning (your fault, this time, insisting he spend a little longer with you in bed), so hadn’t collected the mail like usual. A covert sneak across the front lawn, and you’d brought it in yourself, leaving it on a kitchen counter for Al to sort later. But with the usual housework you did during the day, a pile of letters was just another mess to organize. A huge, awful, heartbreaking mess of a thing, you realized. Maybe other letters had slipped through before- a mailman might easily have confused the almost-identical addresses. Is that why it was Al’s routine to grab the mail on his way to work? Now you thought about it, you rarely saw mail around the house at all, save for the odd bill, left on the kitchen table to be paid and posted later, or a couple clothing catalogs Al left for you to choose some items from on occasion.

Not that it mattered a shred how the letter had got here, you thought as you slapped the other (correctly addressed) letters on the counter, turning on your heel to storm into the living room. Without hesitation, and without a plan for what you would even say, you stomped over to the sideboard in the corner. When Al had given you the number for his work a while back, you’d memorized it from the note on the refrigerator. Now, you furiously swiped each digit from that note on the rotary phone, livid irritation lacing every second you had to wait after each input for the dial to spin back into place. Four shrill rings, each successive one straining your jaw into a more tense position, before the other end of the line answered.

A familiar voice rasped through the phone, an overly-friendly tone you knew was just a little bit forced.

“Dalton’s Hardware, this is Albert.”

You bristled at that, wondering how much he hated using his full name in his scripted greeting, before remembering why Al’s feelings were the least of your worries right now.

“You lied to me, Al.” He didn't deserve a greeting.

“Y/N? What's-”

“Albert Shaw. 7741 Tennyson Avenue, Galesburg, Denver, Colorado.” You interrupted coolly, reciting the address from rote, not needing to look at the rumpled letters on the balled-up envelope in your hand. The '1' you'd punctuated, emphasizing exactly the lie you'd discovered, left no room for doubt. The silent reply on the other end of the call doubly confirmed it to you.

You let the silence roar down the telephone wire connecting you, content to picture Al squirming, sweating- wondering whether he had the gall to magic up another lie on the spot. To his credit (which was waning every second the knowledge of his deceit ran through your veins), there was no denial when Al finally replied to your accusation, his voice low, but uneven and strained.

"Can we talk when I get home, dove?"

You weren't sure which thing disgusted you more at his question: That intimate pet name, so incongruous and almost tasteless in its use given the situation, that made you wince. Or Al's hushed tones which only affirmed that he was unable to speak about this right now, because wasn't everything involving you and him so covert, so clandestine when you were a kept secret, a hidden shame.

You scoffed a reply:

"I won't lie to you, Al- I can't promise I'll be home when you get back." And with that, you hung up, ignoring the small, pleading voice bleating through the receiver as you tore the phone away from your face and slammed it into its cradle.

Your chest heaved with the adrenaline coursing through you, though you pushed it down, slowing your breath with a deep inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. The rage you could muster (which you’d used only on a handful of occasions to face off with Al’s own beastly outbursts) wasn’t needed right now, so you tamped it down. It threatened to rise when the phone burst into a shrill ring seconds after you’d hung up, but you carried on your meditative breathing as you watched the white phone singing its incessant trill. You weren’t about to bow to his whims, so let the phone ring out in desperation, allowing it to scream, ignoring its pleas to be answered.

Let him panic. How often had you appealed, time and again, for a modicum of truth from Al? How many times had you, like the persistent ringing of that damn phone, asked and asked for him to be more open? If your beseeching requests had gone unanswered, truths still hidden from you, you saw no reason why you should placate Al by speaking to him now. The phone stopped ringing, and you mentally counted the numbers Al would be redialling. Right on cue, the phone resumed its piercing cry. If he wouldn’t be open with you, you had no reason to answer to him. Let him keep ringing. Let him panic.

You figured Al would keep phoning until desperation would drive him to abandon work altogether, frightened by your threat of not being at the house. But you’d be long gone by the time he made it back. Turning coldly away from the side table, you dropped the envelope on the shag carpet and headed to the door, slipping on a pair of pumps before grabbing your key from the bowl and unlatching the front door.

On locking the door and turning to face the street, you faltered, unsure of your next steps. The blaring phone still echoed from within the house, even through the wood and glass barrier between you and it. What next, Y/N? Your eyes flitted to that house- 7741- each thought of it, the secrets within, the lies from weeks past, all eddied through your mind, accompanied by the unceasing rings of the phone sounding behind you. It was all too much- you couldn’t think about the why of it all right now, couldn’t face what you might find there. The rage, the deep ire inside you, that was more than enough of a burden to carry without the horror and dread of what else you might uncover today. Besides, you figured- you had no keys to that house, and trying to access it in broad daylight would draw the worst kind of attention.

You just needed distance. The phone ceased ringing once more, and you waited on the threshold of the house for its recommencement, but no more noise came from within. If Al had stopped trying, maybe he was on his way back. You needed to leave. Now. If you thought too hard about it, you might have panicked- you’d never left the house like this before, not without Al or Max as a chaperone. Al had always been a tether, a lifeline to hold onto when you faced the dizzying open space of a dangerous world that you wanted to stay hidden from. Always to protect Al, protect your shared secrets. But that tether felt like an anchor now, a millstone around your neck that you needed to cut loose, at least for now. You shook off the fear of leaving by yourself and stepped down the driveway to the sidewalk. Averting your gaze from the dilapidated house with that gnarled tree out front, you broke into a sprint down the street.

There was only one place you could think to go.

“Yeah, gimme a minute! What can I do ya-”

As he opened his front door to your desperate knocking, Max paused mid-sentence, his brows furled in immediate concern and mouth agape in shock at the sight of you standing there. You were panting furiously from the two mile run in unseasonably warm fall weather, and you could sense how terrible your tear-stained cheeks, snotty nose and sweat-covered skin probably looked to him. But even before he’d asked what was wrong, before either of you uttered a single word, Max didn’t hesitate to throw his arms around you, ensconcing you in a tight hug. It only opened the floodgates more, fresh tears falling now, and you dug your head into his chest. Almost as if blocking out the sight of the world meant the problems within it could simply vanish. Maybe Max sensed your need for that (in the way that siblings instinctively knew these things), resting his chin on your head, cocooning you in his comforting hold, if only for a fleeting moment. He didn’t seem to mind you sullying his bright purple shirt studded with a hideous hibiscus flower print, letting you burrow into him as he silently ushered you inside. He was still holding you closely as he softly shut the door.

Max waited until you’d calmed a little before even attempting to ask what had affected you in such a way. He’d helped to cease your racking sobs with gentle words, had thrust a glass of water into one shaking hand and a tissue into the other. Even Samson had sensed the disquiet you’d brought into the small house, sitting by your leg and resting his huge head in your lap, whining softly in his own consolatory fashion. Max sat beside you with a comforting arm around your shoulder until your breaths became more steady; once he determined you were capable of coherent speech through your final hiccuped sobs, he finally asked.

“Tell me what happened.”

The tone was laced with obvious concern, but Max’s question was assertive. He’d moved on from the gentle, silent counseling to interrogation- as if he might need to dip into some unknown pool of anger, direct some as-yet-unseen rage upon his older brother if the occasion called for it. You looked at Max with a solemn expression, hating how you’d erased that glimmer of sunshine within him with your problems. Your lengthy silence and somber look had Max misconstruing things, exploring his own imagination’s answer to his question.

“Did he…. did he hurt you, Scout?” “No!” You replied immediately, despising that Max had to even consider that option. But your mind snagged on that word- hurt. Al had hurt you. He’d done awful things to you, had harmed you in the worst ways. And now? Even your version of love had pain and torment that you willingly asked for. That kind of hurt was for pleasure, your intimate ministrations with Al, that Max didn’t need to know the extent of. And the other hurt, that initial torture and rage and merciless brutality Al had once inflicted on you? The scars, the bruises, the bloody welts and vicious marks plied on your skin? Max could never know of that. No matter how incensed you were with Al, you would take that awful history between you to the grave.

You rubbed your eyes for a moment, shrouding yourself in darkness to collect your muddied thoughts. Thinking carefully how to tread these hazardous waters with Max; how to convey the feelings you wanted to share about Al, without jeopardizing everything, without mentioning that dark otherness that once resided alongside the goodness in him.

“I- Al-,” you stumbled, but Max’s solemn chocolate eyes, that look of solicitude on his face, strengthened you. “We argued,” you finally managed to find a string of cohesive words, “He’s so secretive, and I wish he would just lay it all bare for me Max.”

“You know how hard it is for him, though. Hell, it took me coming back and running my mouth for you to find out stuff about Al.”

“That’s what I mean, though- why’s it so hard for him to be honest? About things he’s done, about his past-”

“Scout, you aren’t exactly an open book on that front either. You both got dealt shitty hands, had to deal with stuff no kid should. Sometimes people just aren’t ready to talk about that kinda stuff. It took me years- it might just take him a little longer.” It felt to you like Max was picking sides suddenly, siding with his brother over you, making excuses for his taciturn behavior. It was natural, you guessed- of course he’d pick his brother over you. It felt hopeless, another rigged game that Al didn’t even realize he’d set; if you argued, who was there to fight your corner?

You let out a sigh of frustration. Max didn’t understand the true meaning behind your words. It would be difficult to reveal more specific details without unraveling the tightly bound thread of secrecy that was needed to keep Al’s alter ego in the shadows, hard to say anything without implicating you and Al in something more serious than a lover’s quarrel. The rage and anger of it all threatened to flare up, and Max took the glass from your hand to refill your water, but it was an obvious pretense to give you some space while you gathered your sprawling thoughts.

You watched from across the room as he bent to open the ice drawer, spotting the polaroid picture stuck to the refrigerator door. You, Al, Max- and Samson of course. A family, full of love and care, if not total honesty amongst you. Max might not understand, but he did care: he was just trying to see things from another perspective, playing devil’s advocate. He might have laughed if he knew how apt that role was, defending his brother and, unwittingly, that devilish persona, from being exposed.

Max cared enough to be there for you, for Al. There had been too much kept from him, and the shame of it, the absolute, mortifying shame of lying to your best friend, hit you full force. How hypocritical of you, to talk about Al’s dishonesty, when everything you fed to Max was a carefully curated fabrication, a redacted document that he’d glanced only snippets of.

Any residual rage you’d been preserving for Al transformed into regret of your own actions- because weren’t you doing the same as Al by withholding so many truths? If you wanted to suck out the venom caused by all the deceit, you figured you could start with your own part in that web of lies. You could alleviate some of your guilt, and perhaps Al would follow suit later. One truth giving way to another, toppling the lies between you and Al like dominoes.

You would tread lightly, not revealing enough to implicate yourself or Al in anything. There would be words left unsaid. Kidnapped. Murder. Grabber. But you could erase some of the lies you’d never wanted to tell Max in the first place- as your friend, he deserved that much.

You would start with the first lie you’d told him- the one you’d concocted about yourself, and your past. After all, it was your truth to tell, not Al’s.

Max returned now, placing your water on the coffee table in front of you before sitting beside you once more, his big brown eyes steadfast in their focus on you.

“Max, you’re right- about me not being an open book. I want to be more honest about my past.”

“Have we…not been honest about that? That first night we met, you said-”

“I know what I said. But it wasn’t true.” “Huh?” Concern and confusion weaved its way through Max’s expression, arching his brow, his tilted head causing his dark hair to furl like windswept autumn leaves. You swallowed before continuing, forcing yourself to look into those deep brown eyes, fighting the urge to look away in shame.

“I wasn’t from any broken home, Max. My parents, my boyfriend- they never abused me in any way.”

Max leaped up from the couch, flinging his body back a few feet. In disgust, most likely. Even Samson moved towards his master; on instinct, you knew, but it still felt like an abandonment of sorts.

“Dude! What the fuck? That’s a fucked up thing to lie about, Y/N!”

Yes, definitely disgust. And why wouldn’t he react that way? Max, who had actually endured real abuse at his father’s hand, finding out your shared experiences were never shared at all. That you’d created a story for what- to play the victim? For sympathy? Your story was becoming messy, the potential of one lie untangling opening the door for those you were terrified of escaping. You carried on with all your good intentions, even if they were so pathetically late as to be worthless.

“I can’t tell you why I lied. But I had to Max, can you believe that? I just can’t go back home. It’ll…” you rolled your tongue, looking for the right word, even though every word that tumbled from your mouth felt wrong, tainted. “It’ll complicate things. I want to stay with Al, but to do that I can't go back. I just didn't want to lie to you about all this anymore. Not after you were so open with me. You’ve been so honest with me about your life, Max, and I haven’t done the same. I feel awful.” In the silence that followed your half-baked explanation, you let loose one final truth, the one that struck your chest the hardest to say. “I’m sorry, Max.” At the very least, you had the decency to look Max in the eye when you told him that.

Max had, gratefully, stood still while you had spoken, looking down at you with an unreadable expression, fists clenched at his sides. You thought he might be more animated, wild even, in his response, raising Cain in the small space of the room, but after a moment he spoke calmly, as if the weight of the deceit you’d dropped at his door had flattened the sunshine personality and restrained the expressive gestures he usually displayed.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. But I don’t think you ever would.”

Max thought a little, rubbing a hand across his jaw in contemplation.

“Scout,” he asked, and you clung onto his use of your nickname, a small shard of hope that things might turn out ok, eventually. “You didn’t run away then, from your family?”

You looked down at the battered rug under your feet, shaking your head timidly in a silent reply. Your hands, which you hadn’t realized you’d been clenching together, were bone-white from the strain. It didn’t stop you clasping them even tighter, needing, deserving the pain that it wrought.

“They looked so lost and broken. You- you were on the news! Christ, I saw one of those old missing posters the other day with your face plastered across it, Y/N!”

“I know!” you cried, both the memory of the family you’d left behind, and for Max’s current anguish at this new wound you’d sliced into him. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I’ve had to make peace with that, had to let go of them, and hope that they did the same. It’s my past. Al is my family now. You are, Max.”

“Are you safe?” That aggressive assertiveness again; even if he knew next to nothing, your safety was a priority. It was almost enough to curve your lips into a thin smile, but not quite.

“Yes. I’m safe.” You looked up again, needing him to understand the honesty behind that answer.

“Jesus,” Max huffed a long breath, pacing the room now, so small that two steps had him turning on his heel in the other direction. He spun towards you again, brown eyes flecked with worry. You hadn’t moved from the couch, staying low and looking up at Max. A gesture of supplication, almost groveling in your apology. “Could you give me even a little more to work with here?” Max pleaded.

“No,” you spoke on a whisper “I don’t want to lie anymore, but I can’t tell you the whole truth.”

Max’s eyes softened, and he flashed a small, toothy smile. If not fully understanding your reasoning, at least accepting it. “Scout,” he started, reaching towards you, as if to take your hand in his, to give it that familiar brotherly squeeze that signaled yes, things would be ok. But as Max’s arm extended within reach, a thunderous pounding interrupted the gesture. Alongside the wood-splintering hammering on Max’s front door, a familiar, gravelly voice began to boom your name, loud enough for the entire street to hear. Of course Al had found you quickly; like a cornered animal, you had so few places to run and hide.

Always inept at keeping his more extreme emotions in check, Al had barely functioned when his dove had recited that other address to him over the phone. Shock at first, unable to deny any longer a truth he knew had been too long coming. Then panic rose, his pitiful attempts to placate her over the phone denied when she’d hung up on him. He’d redialled, hardly caring if anyone at work might have seen him bashing the telephone numbers frantically with trembling fingers, running his other hand through his hair in frustration when she didn’t pick up the second, third, fourth time. He slammed the wall phone’s receiver into its holster with a noisy clang.

Obviously his dove was furious- and with good reason- but was this her intention, letting the phone ring to panic him, watching it ring as she waited for his return? Or had she really meant what she’d threatened and left the house? Al needed to know, and he’d literally sprinted out of the hardware store, half-muttering some excuse about an emergency to the couple other staff members on shift that day. This was an emergency.

Clambering into his van, tires screeched as he raced back home. The panic intensified with each minute on the road, every stop sign he’d barely braked for, every turn that slowed him down. The dread for how he’d explain himself, the shame that it had taken him getting caught red-handed, rather than his own honest morals, for her to find out that he did in fact own that house across the way.

Even racing through the scenarios in his head, Al still wondered whether he could tell his love about the things hidden deep inside that house. Even she might have a breaking point, a final trigger that would force her to see the mistake of staying with Al. She might finally break, and choose to leave. Though Al wondered if he hadn’t already broken her, some manipulation that had forced her to forget the truly hideous things he’d done, some bewitchment of amnesia and coercion. How Al despised the dark thoughts that ran free in his mind when he allowed it! Those destructive thoughts only spurred him to get home quicker, to find strength and light which only she could provide; Al made it back home in half his usual time.

Empty. Each room of the house that Al barged into, banging into door frames and knocking over ornaments in his frantic rush, was empty. She’d really left. Not for good, he deduced- not to go to the authorities, hand Al over, tell that story. She would never, he reassured himself. But she’d left the house because of her own hurting heart, because Al’s lies had splintered their relationship into something he hoped he could repair. There was only a couple of places she might go. Quickly probing the other house, checking the doors and windows hadn’t been tampered with, gave Al only a brief moment of relief, before he knew where he needed to go. Within seconds, the van was once again flying down the street, Max’s house minutes away.

In the five minute drive towards his brother’s house, a small change flickered within Al. He knew where his dove was, knew he’d see her shortly, and that thought cleared away some of the panic. But the emotion that slotted itself into that now-empty gap was his old friend Rage, that default feeling that he too easily slipped into. She’d left, without a word, without a note, without letting him explain himself. Allowing him to think the worst, most despicable thoughts. Usually it was his sweet thing keeping him grounded, soothing his temper with her words, her mere presence a balm to his outbursts that, even now, he’d not fully mastered how to control.

But when she was the cause of his anger? There was nothing to quell it, and it blossomed and grew like a thick, suffocating weed in the confines of the van as Al neared where he knew she was hiding. He pictured her face, that cheekbone scar he’d inflicted months and months back, imagining it splitting open once more at the impact with his fist- NO! No, Al- not that, he pleaded with himself, his own last dregs of sanity bargaining with the wild beast that was threatening to emerge. He hit the steering wheel, hit his own head to clear away those violent visions. Just talk to her, he told himself: make her see how worried and fucking angry you were.

He braked sharply outside the small house, keys still in the ignition and he jumped out of the van and lunged towards Max’s door, beginning to pound furiously on the wood, shouting his dove’s name with the rage he’d not managed to placate this time around. He was furious, and he didn’t care who knew it.

#the grabber #the grabber x reader #the black phone #albert shaw x reader #albert shaw #black phone fanfic #the grabber x you #albert shaw x you #the black phone fanfic

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harmonyindark245 · 2 years ago

Text

ONE LAST TIME [Chapter 4]

Summary - Elain and Azriel have known each other since they were 11 and had never been separated. But when their view for their future no longer matches, things break apart between them, causing a rift which had never been fixed. Elain goes on to become a neurosurgeon, while Azriel works for the deadlier part of the community. Ten years later, their lives get entangled as they cross paths, this time stakes much greater than just their hearts.

An: All characters belong to Sarah J. Maas

Warnings: Mature language, violence, alcohol consumption, smoking, drugs

Hope you all enjoy!

Masterlist

Songs:

Grenade - Bruno Mars Die For You - The Weeknd Happier Than Ever - Billie Eilish

There were very few times in his life when Azriel felt as if he were dreaming. This was one such time.

He was out on a walk in the woods. With his almost ten year old son. Whom he didn’t even know existed until yesterday.

The snow from last night had melted so Azriel took him to the small pond near the house and they’d been there for the past hour. The entire time, Daemon had been talking about his school and his friends and his favorites.

By now, Azriel learned that his best friend was Jason, he studied in fourth grade at Velaris Elementary and he loved to talk.

“Do you know, I have a blue bunny just like the one in your room?” Daemon suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence.

It took Azriel a minute to realize he’s talking about the blue bunny he gave to Elain for her 12th birthday. She had left it along with her letter just before she left. Since then, he had never let go of the bunny. But he clearly remembered his being in his room back home. Maybe Feyre or Nesta had brought it along with his clothes, he assumed. Which also reminded him that he needed to go back home to get all of his stuff.

“You really don’t talk much, do you?” He wondered. Azriel glanced towards him and raised an eyebrow, to which he gave him a toothy smile. “Uncle Lu says that the only way I’m similar to mom is the way I love to speak. Otherwise, I am exactly like you.” Then he frowned. “But my friends never believed me.”

“Why?” Azriel asked.

“Because you never came to any career day or a parent - teacher’s meet or anything.” He said glumly. “They teased me saying that you weren’t real.” He threw a stone into the pond. “Mom said to ignore them because they’re bullies.”

Azriel hated the fact that his son was bullied due to his absence. Daemon then looked up from the lake. “Did you ever get bullied? When you were a kid?”

Azriel gave him a sad smile. “All the time. But you know who always stood up for me?” He shook his head. “Your mom. No matter what it was, she would always support me.”

Daemon smiled. “Mom says that she would help anyone she loves.”

Azriel averted his eyes. Yeah, Elain would do anything for those whom she loves. But he was no longer that person. Azriel got up from where he was sitting and dusted his jeans. “Come on, let's go back. Your mom would be wondering where we are.” He gave Daemon his hand and pulled him up.

“Thank you dad!” He started running ahead but paused, looking back at Azriel. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask, but is it okay if I call you dad?”

Azriel felt tears brimming in his eyes, but managed to hold them back. “Yeah. I would love that.”

Daemon smiled. “Okay! And you can call me Dae!”

He walked back towards the house and Azriel dazedly followed.

~~~~

Elain quietly finished her breakfast and went to the game room to watch TV. After all, there was not much to do when one was trapped in the middle of nowhere and even better than, when they’ve been kidnapped. She started watching Brooklyn 99 when Nesta came and sat beside her.

“I feel betrayed.” She stated.

“Oh, I wonder why.” Elain continued watching the show, not paying attention to her sister.

“You never used to hide anything from me.” Accusation filled Nesta’s voice. Elain took a cushion and placed it on her lap.

“Yeah, well there’s a first time for everything.” She turned to look at Nesta. “Like, I don’t know, kidnapping your sister and keeping her hostage for no reason whatsoever?” Elain shrugged and turned back towards the show.

“Elain, it’s not like that.” Nesta reasoned.

Elain whipped her head towards her. “Then what is it like? Please tell me. I’m dying to know.”

“And I’m dying to know why you never told any of us about your son!” She screamed in retaliation.

Elain didn’t answer and turned back towards the TV with her hands crossed across her chest.

“Nes, it’s time to - hey! My favorite show!” Cassian walked into the room.

Nesta ignored the second half and got up. “Cassian let’s go.”

He pouted at Nesta. “But the show…”

She dragged him out. “No.”

Feyre walked in from behind them and Elain raised an eyebrow at her. “Let me guess, you were listening?”

She shrugged unapologetically. “How do you expect me not to? Come on, let's drink coffee and gossip like old times.” Elain finally smiled and got up, conveniently forgetting all about her conversation with Nesta.

Feyre handed Elain a coffee mug and dragged her to the outside porch where Cassian and Nesta were getting ready to get into their car.

From the side, Daemon came out of the woods, running, wearing a jacket and gloves. Behind him, Azriel followed slowly. He stopped as Daemon ran towards Cassian who hugged Daemon, making him laugh.

Both Feyre and Elain smiled as they watched them interacting. Elain watched Rhys go towards Azriel and talk about something. With the way his face was, it was probably about something serious, but then again, when did Azriel not have a serious face?

“I wonder how things would’ve been if you would’ve just told us about Daemon.” Feyre said as she looked towards Cassian and Dae.

“I had my reasons, Feyre.”

“I realize that,” She looked at Elain with soft, understanding eyes. “And I am not judging you. But he deserved to know.”

“Both of us deserved a lot of things.” Elain replied sourly. Suddenly Azriel started walking towards them and initially, Elain thought it was to come talk to her. But he passed by her without a word and she ignored him, looking forward.

Feyre sighed audibly.

~~~~~

Azriel and Daemon reached the house just as Cassian and Nesta were getting into their car.

Daemon ran towards them and hugged Cassian. Both of them smiled at each other and Cassian said something which made Daemon laugh. Near the doorway, Azriel saw Elain standing beside Feyre with a coffee mug in her hand. She was smiling as she watched the scene unfold in front of her.

Cassian lifted Daemon up and shook him, which caused Daemon to shriek in laughter. Azriel could feel a small smile of his own forming.

Rhys walked up to him and handed him a mug filled with coffee. He stood beside Azriel and looked at Cassian playing with Daemon. “Sorry about whatever happened at breakfast.” Azriel just nodded. “And not telling you about Elain.” Azriel looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He looked back and rolled his eyes. “What? I’m just apologizing.”

“What do I have to do?” Azriel asked, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“There’s no beating around the bush with you, is there? You need to check on Graysen. Then you need to go and meet up with Vanserra who’ll give you Elain’s stuff. After that, you can go get your stuff.”

Azriel inhaled deeply, the smell of coffee filling him. “I’m going to stay with them.”

“Didn’t expect anything else.”

“When should I leave?” He asked as he finished his coffee.

“Now would be preferable. Nesta and Cassian are leaving. Feyre and I can stay for a while, but not that long.”

Azriel agreed and went inside the cabin, passing Elain and Feyre on the way. Feyre smiled at him while Elain ignored him, looking out towards Daemon and Cassian.

Azriel sighed and walked inside.

People had often told him that he had a bad habit of thinking the worst about himself. They said it as if it was something he could fix. But it was not his fault that whomever he loved turned up dead or left him.

Losing his mother, then getting abused by his actual father who ultimately went to jail. Then he moved in with Rhysand’s family who treated him like their own and his mother died.

And then there was Elain. Luckily she didn’t end up dead, but she very well could. And so could Daemon.

He wouldn’t allow that, no matter how much it might hurt him. He’s stayed away from her once, he could do it again.

~~~~

After Cassian and Nesta left, Azriel soon followed, leaving only Elain, Daemon, Feyre and Rhysand at the cabin. Elain was busy reading a book while both Feyre and Daemon were seated on the library floor, painting on plain sheets of paper.

“Mom,” Elain glanced down at Daemon, who was pouting. “How long will we stay here?”

Elain smiled at him. “I don’t know sweety, ask Auntie Feyre, she’ll probably know.”

He turned towards Feyre who was looking at Elain with narrowed eyes. She shrugged and continued to read her book. “Daemon, have you seen the game room downstairs?” Feyre asked. Daemon shook his head in affirmation and Feyre stood up, wiping her hands on her pants. “Come on, I’ll show you. We have tons of games.” She took Daemon out of the room and stuck her tongue at Elain. Elain replied similarly.

Elain decided to look around the house to see if she could find something helpful. Groaning and muttering curses under her breath when she couldn’t find anything, she walked downstairs to where the TV was. She plopped down on the couch and turned the news on.

There was discussion regarding the previous night’s ball and the attack. Then they showed Graysen in his office, clearly worried.

Rhys came into the room and stood behind Elain, his hands resting just behind her head. “Turn up the volume.”

She did as he said and Graysen’s voice came through. “I don’t know why they’re doing this. I had my suspicions against the Knight clan, but I thought they’d keep it professional. Just yesterday I found out that my fiancée had ties with the Knights and now she’s gone as well. The attack was definitely orchestrated by them.”

Elain frowned. Was he trying to somehow insinuate that she might have a hand with the attack?

“I honestly cannot see what the hell you saw in him.” Rhys stated as he came around and sat beside her.

“Well, neither can I.” She muttered. “Can you at least tell me why I’m being held here?”

Rhys sighed and took the remote from her, turning the TV off. “Look, Graysen has been interfering with our work for quite a while now. His father had a negotiation with us, but with him stepping down, we need control over Graysen.”

“Control?” Elain scoffed. “So what, I'm just a part of some good old business rivalry?”

He gives me a grave look. “Elain, the shit he’s trying to get involved in is much bigger than you could imagine. He’s killed three of my men.”

“Oh, and I guess you took that silently?” When Rhys didn’t answer, Elain shook her head. “Do you really think I haven’t heard of the things you’ve been up to? Not only have you been pretty known in the business section of the news but also the criminal one.”

“Elain you are not understanding. He’s dangerous because he’s going to ruin our city. They’re mainly targeting the kids with this stuff.”

“Why would he do something that awful?”

“That’s not all Ellie. He has a huge prostitution ring going on. He hides it with his greater investments and he has the perfect cover with his fucking neurosurgeon fiancée who helps people.”

Elain looked at the dark screen in front of her and took in deep breaths. “Okay, so even if you are correct, how does it involve me?”

“We kidnap you, torture you and force Graysen to stop.”

Elain widened her eyes in fear. “You- you’re going to torture me?”

A loud sound of Daemon screaming came from the hallways. Suddenly Daemon showed up at the entrance, his cheeks flushed with a bright smile on his face. “Momma, Auntie Feyre’s a dinosaur and she’s going to eat me!” A roar voice came from behind and he ran away, shrieking.

Rhys looked towards Elain with a smirk. “Yes, we plan to torture you to death.”

She rolled her eyes and slightly punched him on the shoulder. He gasped. “Oh no! You’ve hurt me! Someone help me, I’m being tortured!” Elain laughed at him and he started laughing as well.

“I missed that laugh.” He said as they quieted down. “We all did.” He gave her a meaningful look.

“I missed you all too.” She muttered softly.

~~~~~

Azriel was bored out of his mind. He was checking up on Graysen’s activities who was acting as if nothing was wrong. He went to his meetings, had lunch with his father, flirted with literally every single female to pass by.

Azriel’s phone pinged with a message from Lucien telling him to meet at his building's parking lot.

When he reached he found Lucien standing near his car wearing black goggles, playing with a bunch of keys. Azriel slipped on his own and moved towards him. “Where’s the stuff?”

He held the keys out. “At her house.”

Azriel narrowed my eyes at him. “You were supposed to bring them to me.”

“I think Elain would do a much better job of picking out her stuff than me.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

Azriel released a sigh and took the keys from him, turning around to leave. “How are they?” Lucien asked.

“Fine.” He started walking away from him.

“And what about you? You okay?” Lucien called out. Azriel stopped and looked back at him with narrowed eyes.

“Not even 24 hours ago, I found out that I have a nine-year-old son, who looks exactly like me, with the girl whom I have loved ever since I was 12.” His face was emotionless. “How do you think I am?”

“Did you ask Elain how she found out about him? How she managed to raise him as well as get a medical degree, becoming one the best in her class?” His face didn’t hold any anger. Only sympathy and understanding. “Let’s go have some coffee.” He pointed towards the hotel cafe. Azriel nodded and let him lead the way. Lucien went and ordered two coffees while Azriel went and sat down at a table.

Azriel didn’t say anything as he came and placed the coffees on their table. He sat opposite to Azriel and looked at him for a minute. Azriel stared back.

“She didn’t know she was pregnant.” Lucien started off.

“I know.”

He shook his head. “It was the first time in years that she wasn’t with you on your birthday. The night before, she got extremely drunk. Near midnight, she started screaming in her room. I thought she was dying. I took her to the hospital and they told me that she’s in labor. I didn’t even believe it until they let me see him.”

“How didn’t she know?” He wondered.

“It happens. Elain wasn’t in a really good place at that time. She had shifted to a new place with new people, none of her sisters were there with her either. And mainly, she had lost you. That was the one thing that set her back majorly. She didn’t go into depression, or become suicidal or anything. If I wouldn’t have known what had happened, I would’ve thought she was perfectly normal. But she was suffering within. Doctors say that all of that could have made her mentally unprepared for a child, which caused her condition.”

Azriel lowered his head in shame. He caused that. Females have nine months of getting used to having a child and even then, most are not prepared. And for Elain, it would’ve been so sudden, he couldn’t even imagine how it would’ve felt like.

“But she managed to hold on. The way her eyes teared up when she saw him, held him in her hands, it was one the most magical moments of my life. Since then, Elain has had this habit of taking a photo or video of every moment she considers special, so that she can’t have any other special moments stolen from her.” He smiled at him and Azriel remembered how Lucien had taken a photo of Daemon and Cassian at the ball.

“He likes me.” Azriel stated.

Lucien smirked in return. “He idolizes you. You’re this perfect man in his eyes who can never do anything wrong.”

At Azriel’s confused face, he clarified, “Well, he knows Graysen isn’t his father. And he’s old enough to know he didn’t hatch out of an egg.”

“Didn’t he ever ask where I was?” Azriel knew he would’ve if it were him.

“She told him that you couldn’t be with them.”

“And he just accepted it?”

“He is Elain’s kid as well. He sees the good in everything.” Azriel scoffed.

Lucien looked into his phone and got up. “I need to leave and I assume you have some other work to do as well.” Azriel nodded. “I’ll leave you to it. It was nice talking to you.” He shook his hand and watched him go as Azriel remained sitting on his seat, finishing his coffee.

~~~~

After driving for 15 more minutes, Azriel finally reached his own house, empty and lonely. It was far away from the main city, the nearest house was at least a mile away. Rhys and Cassian had expected him to buy a small flat where he could drown himself in his sorrows. Just to spite them, he had bought a huge mansion, with a pool and a fountain. And now, all it did was remind him how lonely and empty he was.

He trudged inside, the lights turning on automatically. First he went to his study and grabbed a few books along with his laptop. Then, he went into his room and took a backpack out. He filled his books and laptop into it. He decided to take a few extra pairs of clothes as well. Azriel turned around surveying the room and looked at the little bunny lying on his pillows. He smiled to himself and picked it up.

Maybe he could bring it along for Daemon. He did mention having a bunny just like this.

Which was at the cabin.

But how was that possible if Azriel’s was here in his house and no one had yet gone to Elain’s house? Unless -

Someone planted it there.

Fuck.

He dropped everything and rushed out of the house, heading straight for his car. As soon as he got the car on, he sped in the direction of the cabin where Elain and Daemon were.

He tried calling Elain but then remembered that he had her phone. He dialed the cabin phone, but no one picked up. He tried both Rhys and Feyre, but theirs directly went to voicemail.

He cursed and sped past all the other vehicles, ignoring all the honking, with only one goal in mind, to reach Elain and Daemon on time.

Who could have known about the blue bunny? And more importantly, how did they manage to hide in the cabin without anyone knowing about it. The cabin was one of the places they used as hideouts, which no one knew about.

What would they want from Elain or Daemon? The blue bunny could be anything, a camera, a voice recorder, a bomb.

He was only 3 miles away from them. Hopefully Rhys and Feyre hadn’t left.

Finally, the cabin came to his view. He looked at the driveway and couldn't see Feyre and Rhys' car.

Damn it, he thought.

~~~~~

Feyre and Rhys left as soon as they finished lunch, promising to return the next day. Azriel had still not returned from wherever he went.

Elain was surprised when Rhys told her that Azriel would be coming back. She had expected him to hate her and not want to ever see her again, considering she hid his child from him.

She was sitting with Daemon in Azriel’s room talking about the recent changes they had faced that day.

“So, did you like your Aunts and Uncles?” She questioned.

Daemon smiled brightly. “They’re so much fun! Especially Uncle Cassian! Did you know he named his daughter Tootsie after the chocolate?” Daemon and Elain giggled. “I told him it was weird and people would make fun of her but he reassured me it was just her nickname.”

Elain huffed out another laugh. “What about your father? I heard you went out on a walk with him.”

Daemon’s smile slightly dimmed. “He said he looked just like me when he was little. I don’t think Dad talks that much.” Daemon brightened. “Oh, and he said he would love it if I called him Dad. I thought he would find it weird.”

Elain sighed. “This whole situation is weird.”

Suddenly, they heard the door slam open and large thumps from someone climbing up the stairs. Azriel barged into the room and beelined towards the bunny kept on the arm chair.

He picked it up and looked at it for a moment before he started tearing open the bunny.

“Mommy, what is dad doing?” Daemon asked her softly. She shrugged and turned towards Azriel.

“Azriel, what are you doing?” He removed all the cotton and uncovered a small device inside which caused her to gasp. “Holy shit.”

“Take Daemon and go to my car, now.” He said fiercely. Elain instantly took Daemon’s hand and dragged him downstairs and out of the house where Azriel’s car was. The door was left open and the ignition was still on. Elain placed Daemon inside and sat on the driver’s seat preparing to take her son and run away. She could escape. But something stopped her. There was a fucking bomb in the room she and her son were in. She didn’t want to take a chance with any other horror waiting for them.

Azriel came running towards them and she shifted the gear to drive, ready to drive as soon as he sat in the car.

“Momma?” She looked down at Daemon and realized that he’s not wearing a jacket. He looked at her, fear evident in his eyes. “Don’t worry Dae, daddy’s coming, okay.”

He bobbed his head and waited patiently. Azriel quickly got into the car.

“Get out of here quickly.” He instructed and Elain quickly reversed the car, pedaling the accelerator, the car lurching. As they reached the large gates of the house, she heard a loud exploding sound and could see the house up in flames from the rearview mirror.

“Don’t look back!” Azriel told Daemon, his body turned around completely, holding Daemon’s shoulders.

“Mommy, what’s happening? I’m scared.” He whispered with his hands covering his ears.

“I don’t know. Just, don’t worry.” Elain reassured him with tears in her eyes as she glanced towards Azriel who was completely focussed on Daemon.

~~~~~

Azriel was looking straight ahead, pitching in to tell Elain the directions once in a while. Other than that, he remained quiet.

“Azriel, what just happened?” Elain asked after a while.

“Shit happened.” He replied curtly as he urged her to speed up the car, ignoring others on the road.

“Azriel, that’s not an answer.”

“I’ll tell you when I get this mess sorted out.” He continued looking straight ahead. He saw Elain shaking her head in his peripheral vision.

Azriel took his phone and scrolled through his contacts, clicking on Cassian’s name. A second later the sound of ringing came through the car speakers. “Hey Az! Everything good with-”

“Get Rhys and come to my office as soon as possible.” He cut the call and looked back towards the road.

“Azriel, what’s going on?” He just continued to ignore Elain and turned back towards Daemon.

“Hey buddy. How are you holding up?” Daemon looked slightly scared but managed a small smile. “Okay, we’re about to go to my office okay? You’ll get to see where I work.”

He told Elain where to enter and informed her which spot to park in. Then he got out of the car and opened the back door holding a hand out for Daemon.

“Azriel tell me what’s going on!” Elain whispered beside him.

He ignored her again. “Azriel Knight! What is happening! This is the second time in a day that I’ve been driven away to some place I don’t even know where! I deserve to know where you’re taking me and my son.”

“There was a fu-” He glanced back at Daemon who looked slightly startled. “There was a bomb in the toy.” He says calmly.

“Yeah, I know! I saw that! Question is, why the hell was it there?”

He took a sharp turn entering a lobby. “I don’t know.” He couldn’t hide his frustration that he didn’t know about the bomb.

“Why are we here?” Elain asked in a calmer voice as they entered the elevator.

“I’ve told Rhys and Cassian are going to meet us here.”

They soon reached a well decorated floor, with a woman waiting behind a desk and a large couch set up. Azriel turned towards Daemon and knelt down. “Daemon, I need you to wait out here okay? Mom and I will be right inside.”

Daemon nodded slowly and Azriel looked towards the woman behind the desk who came towards Daemon with a smile. “Hello! My name is Cerridwen. Why don't you come along with me?”

Azriel then grabbed Elain and dragged her into a massive office space.

“Rhys and Cassian will be here soon.” He said as he settled in his chair.

~~~~

A few minutes later Rhys and Cassian stormed through the office.

“You took your sweet time.” Azriel said coolly as he got up from his seat, Elain sitting quietly in the corner.

Cassian scoffed. “Well, you didn’t exactly give us enough information. We had to prepare.”

“Cassian knock it off.” Rhys interjected and moved towards the couch. Both of them sat down while Azriel continued to stand.

“So,” Cassian started. “I’m guessing something’s wrong.”

Elain couldn’t stop her snort. “Yes. Thank you for stating the obvious.”

Both Cassian and Rhys sent amused looks towards her. “Where’s Daemon?”

“He’s sitting in the waiting room.” Azriel replied in a cold voice and then glanced at Rhys. “You’re getting sloppy.”

Rhys furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Azriel. It’s not his fault.” Cassian started.

“I’m not even talking about that. There was a bomb in the house.” Azriel accused.

“A what?!” Both Cassian and Rhys exclaimed.

“It was in a blue bunny in Azriel’s room.” Elain informed them.

Rhys looked at Elain, “The same one that you…?” She nodded but Azriel replied, “No, it was different.”

“How did someone place it there?” Rhys wondered aloud.

Azriel kept a stone cold face. “You tell me.”

Cassian shrugged. “Guess it’s not much of a secret hideout now?”

“Cassian, it was set to explode minutes after I found it. What if I had not reached them on time? And it was in my room for God’s sake!” Azriel claimed.

Rhys stood up from his seat. “Keep them at your place. It’s well away from the main city and no one can find it, even with the help of directions.”

Azriel crossed his arms. “And you’re not going to say anything about the bomb?”

“Az, how was I supposed to know that someone would place a bomb?”

Azriel pointed a finger towards him accusingly. “You were supposed to ensure everything was safe. You fucked up Rhys. Admit it.”

Rhysand raised his hands in surrender. “I get it, I’ll do better next time.”

“There shouldn’t be a next time.” He stated.

“Okay, but don’t do anything that’ll screw things up.”

He scoffed at Rhys. “Interesting. What would’ve you done if it was Feyre, huh?” Then he turned towards Cassian. “Or Nesta and Tootsie?”

“Az, you’re-”

“You would tear apart the entire world. In fact you did almost that when Feyre was taken.”

Rhys sighed. “Az, you can do whatever you want. Just not at the moment. I’m just telling you to stand by for-”

“Don’t you fucking dare expect me to stand by when someone tries to hurt my son and the woman I love!” Azriel shouted.

Instantly, everything went dead quiet. Both of them were looking at Azriel in resignation.

Elain looked shocked at his words. She couldn’t remember a time she ever saw him shout in anger. But what shocked her more was that he called her the woman he loves.

Azriel took a deep breath and stormed out of the room, not glancing at any one of them.

~~~~~

Let me know what you think!

I'm going on vacation so the next chapter will be on the 6th of January!

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cavalierious-whim · 2 years ago

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Kamisato Ayato bails Itto out of jail because he wants to ride that dick(tm). Written for Kirashions' Collaborative Server Zine, Vol. 3.

You can download this free zine here! Be sure to check out the fic on AO3 as well.

Ayato should have been suspicious the moment Itto’s underlings paid him a visit. They look out of place at the Kamisato Estate, but, because Ayato is a gracious host, he treats them to an audience.

“Miss Shinobu,” he greets with false sweetness.

She winces. “Ah, Lord Kamisato. I—”

“Have demanded an audience, haven’t you? You’re lucky that I owed you a favor. Usually, your antics aren’t worth much to me.”

“Ah, about that,” she starts.

“It’s about Itto,” cuts in Ushi, lacking any and all manners.

Ayato overlooks his transgression, far more interested in their plight now that a certain Oni is involved. “Itto?” he asks.

“The boss is in a bit of trouble.”

This comes as no surprise, which is exactly what Ayato says. “Tell me a day when Itto isn’t in trouble.”

“Yeah, but he’s actually been thrown in jail this time. Kujo Sara was relentless with her arrest today—”

“What did he do?”

Shinobu blinks, tilting her head to the side. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Call it curiosity.” Ayato presses his fingers together and levels her with a cool look. “I assume that you came here for my help. So, explain.”

She thinks, her brow furrowing, a line creasing in the middle of it. “Public indecency,” she says slowly. “It wasn’t his fault though—he got pantsed by some little gremlin in town and Kujo Sara just happened to turn the corner at the wrong time, and—”

“And you found it appropriate to come and bother me about it?”

The idea of it though—something simmers in Ayato’s gut. Itto is a bit of an idiot but he’s a handsome idiot, and Ayato isn’t blind. Surely he’s packing. A pity that he wasn’t in town to see him because Ayato might’ve climbed Itto like a tree right there in the front square.

“Sir?” It’s Ushi who cuts in, voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Hm?”

“Er, about the bail bond?”

Ayato’s mouth curls into a devious grin which makes Shinobu squirm. “Oh, is that why you came to me? Tell me, Deputy—” He says the title sickly sweet, voice dripping in sarcasm. “—Why would I care?”

“I know you’re friends with the boss,” she deadpans. Straight to it, then.

Ayato’s face falls the barest amount. “Perhaps I underestimated you—”

“It’s nothing like that, you just aren’t very good at hiding it.” A pause, and though he can’t see past her mask, Shinobu smiles. “The boss isn’t the brightest candle around, though. He has no idea who you are.”

“Yes, well, that is the appeal of our so-called beetle fighting.” Itto is entertaining with his happy-go-lucky attitude, but really, it’s the fact that he’s too dim to realize just exactly who Ayato is. It’s endearing in a way. Itto earnestly looks forward to the little games that they play.

Ayato, on the other hand, looks forward to watching those rippling muscles as Itto yells out utterly ridiculous catchphrases.

He taps his chin, regarding Shinobu with a shrewd gaze. “So, let me summarize: Itto was caught with his pants down—literally—and now you want me to bail him out. How high is the amount?”

“Let’s just say Kujo Sara took the opportunity presented to her. She’s been hounding Itto for months and finally dragged him in.”

Very high, then, by the looks of it. Ayato sighs dramatically, making it look as though it’s a massive ordeal. (It is not; Ayato will hardly miss the money, and he’s fairly certain that he can work this ordeal in his favor). He waits long enough for Shinobu to squirm before saying, “Alright, I’ll bite—but on one condition.”

“Oh?”

“I go alone to get him.” Shinobu’s gaze narrows, but before she can reply, Ayato raises a hand. “Nothing unsavory, I assure you. He’ll be in good hands. It’s only easier if I’m the one to handle my money, no? Underlings with large sacks of Mora will draw suspicion, but I can pay people to turn a blind eye.”

She knows that he has a point, judging from the way the top half of her face wrinkles. “It’s not as though I have any other choice.”

Shinobu doesn’t even try to shake his hand, which Ayato will remember fondly in the future.

“So, let me get this straight.” The prison guard pauses, scratching his cheek. “You’re posting the bond for Arataki Itto—but you want some time alone with him?”

“A half-hour would suffice,” says Ayato, his hands hiding deep in his sleeves. It’s an estimation built entirely on uncouth, mildly lustful observations, not that the guardsman needs to know that.

“My Lord—”

“I do believe that my generous tip was meant for you to not ask questions of me.”

The guard’s mouth snaps shut and he stiffens. He still scratches at his cheek, thinking. “Er, Kujo Sara—”

“I outrank Miss Kujo Sara as the Lord of the Kamisato Estate, don’t I?” Technically. It’s a thin claim at best but Kujo Sara might be willing to concede to it if he gets caught.

“A half-hour, then,” says the guard, sagging. “After that, I’m not responsible.”

Ayato nods in the affirmative. “Now—which cell?”

Itto sits in his prison cell pathetically, leaning against the wall.

He perks up when the guard lets Ayato slip inside. They share a glance, the guard's head dipping before shutting the cell door and turning around the corner.

“Oh, thank Celestia. Bro, you have no idea—”

“Strip,” says Ayato plainly.

Itto stops dead, his mouth parted wide. And then: “Er, why?”

“I’ve paid for your bail, so now, I’m reaping my reward. Now, take your clothes off.”

Ayato sees the cogs they try and fail to turn in Itto’s head. And it isn’t that Itto’s dumb, he’s just got his head in the clouds. Doesn’t think much past the moment. Adorable, really. Especially the way that he scrambles to his feet eagerly, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers.

“A new game?”

“Here? In a prison? Itto, what is two and two together?”

The response is delayed, but it’s a firm-sounding, “Four.”

“And what kinds of games are played in prisons?”

“Well, I was always told to not bend over in the showers—”

What an absurd thing to say as he drops his pants. Ayato stands there, watching with hungry eyes as Itto’s trousers fall to the ground. And then he has a thought when Itto begins to pull at his leather harness.

“No, keep that on. But everything else—off with it.”

“So, what’re the rules?” Itto means it as a joke but Ayato can’t help but play along. That’s the thing about his cheerful idealism—it rubs off.

Ayato crosses the room, pressing a hand against Itto’s sternum. His gaze is planted firmly on Itto’s face, no matter how much he wants to look down. Not yet. All in due time. Ease him into it. Not that Itto won’t do as he says; he’s always been a good boy when it comes down to it.

“The game is simple, I suppose. I am bailing you out and therefore, you owe me something.”

“Oh?” Itto raises a brow, his eyes dropping to where Ayato’s hand rests.

“And the rules are easy to follow. First, we remove this.” Ayato slips Itto’s jacket off, tossing it to the ground. All that’s left before him are gleaming, tan muscles that bulge with the subtlest of movements. Ayato’s mouth goes dry as he just thinks about it, soaking up the sight that typically haunts his dreams instead.

“And?”

“You fuck me.”

Itto rears back, surprised. He Watches Ayato with his mouth hanging open, flapping like a koi fish. “I—er—”

“Do you not want to?”

“No!” A pause. “No, I mean, not that I don’t want to—”

Ayato’s gaze falls half-lidded at that. “Oh?” he purrs, his mouth curving into a smirk. “So you want to?”

Itto’s throat bobs as he swallows thickly. When Ayato presses against his sternum, he goes, falling back to the ground. He groans softly when Ayato settles over his thighs, dragging his nails down the meat of Itto’s chest, teasing.

“Thought about it, have you?”

He must have. Ayato finally looks, taking in the sight of Itto’s half-hard cock thickening between his thighs. “Markings, even here,” he murmurs, dragging a finger down Itto’s length. “And what’s this?” A glinting metal piercing speared right through the slit.

“Bro.” Itto squeaks it, his voice raspy and awkward. But not unwanting. No, no, it’s clear as day that he’s thought about this too.

“We don’t have long,” says Ayato. “I only paid the guard off for a half-hour, so we’ll have to make this quick.”

Ayato reaches up and latches Itto’s wrist together, linking them to the bars. “Only temporarily,” he says, eyes raking over Itto’s now prone form. “Part of your punishment is that you don’t get to touch.”

“I didn’t—”

“Oh, I heard exactly what happened.” Ayato smiles at him, amused. “You got caught with your pants down.”

“My dude—Oh, fuck.”

Ayato doesn’t think he’s ever heard Itto curse before. He delights in Itto’s pinched expression and the pink blush that’s spread from his cheeks to his chest. He looks pained, almost. Must be because Ayato’s wrapped a hand around his dick.

“Handsome,” he says, testing the weight and girth of the cock in his hand. “Exactly what I imagined—though, it’s hard to miss when you traipse around half-dressed.”

Itto whines so prettily when Ayato jerks him once, and then twice, his hand too dry. But he’s desperate enough to see out the friction nonetheless.

“Here is how this will go,” says Ayato, letting go of him. Itto whines when he pulls back and off, divesting himself of his clothes. “I’m going to ride you until I’m satisfied, yes? Whether or not you finish is up to you. As I said, I’ve paid for so little time and we can easily continue this elsewhere, later on.”

“No, I’m going to—You know what? You’re on!”

Ayato regards him with interest. “Is that a challenge?” Because if it is, he’s going to win. He’s an expert at taking dick. “Oh, Itto, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into,” he says once naked and settling over Itto once more.

Itto looks. He stares at him, eyes raking from top to bottom. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. And then again and again—then Itto moans.

Ayato’s grasping his cock again, his long fingers barely reaching around the width of him. “Amazing,” he says. “What a wonderful specimen. I think that we’re going to have fun.”

“Twenty minutes,” says Itto.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s been about ten minutes since you stepped in here and you’ve spent most of it yapping.”

It seems that Itto has a better attention span than anticipated. “If you can still speak then I’m doing a poor job, aren’t I?”

Itto has the gall to shoot him a cocky look. “Aren’t you the one who said it’s up to me to come? Do your worst.”

What a goad. Ayato reaches out and flicks his nipple harshly. Itto jerks underneath him, hissing at the harsh sting. “You asked for it,” he says to him, pinching it next, rolling the stiff nub tightly between a clenched forefinger and thumb.

“Oh, that’s—”

Ayato jerks his cock, thumb over the tip. He plays with the piercing, observing it, marveling at its thickness, and the way that precome bubbles up around it. “So wet,” mocks Ayato, spreading the thick slick around. His palm drags over the length, coaxing Itto to full hardness until it stands on its own, more than impressive in its initial presentation.

He is thankful he came prepared. And he says that to Itto as he rolls his hips against him. He slots their dicks together, the size of his own admirable, but pale in comparison.

“P-prepared?”

Ayato scoffs. “Of course.” He pauses them, tilting his head. “What, are you disappointed? Would you have rather opened me up yourself? I enjoyed doing it earlier, pressing my fingers in deep. There’s this toy—”

“I would’ve wanted to watch.”

Ayato falls silent, not expecting Itto to play along. “Go on.”

“Just that,” says Itto, not remotely embarrassed. “I’ve had dreams. You’re handsome. You’d look good with your fingers knuckle deep.”

“I do believe that I’ve underestimated you, Itto. Who knew you had such a dirty mouth?” Ayato flicks Itto’s nipple again which wins him another hiss.

“I’ve got eyes,” mutters Itto, as though it should be obvious. And then: “Losing time here, bro. Better get on with it.”

Ayato readjusts himself until the tip of Itto’s dick is kissing his loose hole, still slick from his earlier play. Definitely the right decision, considering the haste he has to take. Itto is large enough that he knows it’ll take some effort. And sure enough, the moment he sinks down, the breath from his chest is punched out right away.

“Oh,” he whispers, his breath hitched. “Oh, you’re—” Big, so, so big. Ayato uses gravity to help him fall, rolling his hips gently as he fucks lower and lower into Itto’s thick cock.

“Shit,” moans Itto. He wriggles against his binding. His legs tense, trying to hold back from bucking up into Ayato. “Celestia, you’re—”

“I’m what?” Itto whines, a pitiful sound. He already looks gone, eyes hazy with want. “Go on,” continues Ayato, “use your words.”

“Tight. Too tight. Shit, hot too. Tight and hot, and slick—Gods, I really would've liked to watch you—” He chokes off a moan when Ayato bottoms out.

Itto’s dick is so thick in his ass that Ayato swears that he can feel it in his throat. There must be a bulge and he presses a hand to his belly as though he might feel one. Itto whimpers as he watches. He thrusts his hips ever so slightly, just barely grinding.

Ayato tugs his nipple cruelly. “Did I say that you could move? This round isn’t for you, it’s for me. Consider it services rendered. Yes, I rather like that sound of that—”

“My Lord, you’ve got about ten minutes.” The guard yells it from the hallway.

Ayato wastes no time, pulling his hips up and slamming them right down. Itto howls and Ayato manages to press a hand to his mouth, cutting it off. “None of that,” he hisses, voice pitched low. “I’ve managed to get some time with you but certainly not for uncouth reasons.”

Itto’s breath is warm against his hand but he doesn’t kick back.

“Be a good boy for me?” And oh, that does something. Itto’s moans against his palm and his dick twitches in Ayato’s ass.

It goes well. They move fantastically together once they find a rhythm. Ayato rides him relentlessly like the push and pull of a tide, and Itto doesn’t just lay back and take it, he puts in a hard effort too. Despite his hands being bound high above his head, he moves, fucking up into Ayato’s tight heat, his cock carving its way into his guts.

Fast and dirty. Satisfying enough—but not wholly. “We’ll have to do this again,” says Ayato, sweat beading along his brow. “On a night where I can truly ride you until you’re bone-dry and useless.”

“Bro, that’s—” Itto moans, biting at his lip, cutting off whatever howl that threatens to loose.

The pleasure in Ayato’s gut is like a flash fire; it spreads quickly, easily, and all through him. He fucks himself against Itto’s cock, taking it deep, making sure that the tip drags across his prostate with every stroke. “Gods.” He moans too, a more dignified sound than Itto’s intense, guttural nonsense. “You are good, aren’t you? In more ways than one. Are you going to come?”

“Yes, I’m—oh, shit, you feel good. Ayato.”

Itto does not call him Ayato. He calls him Dude, Bro, or even Compadre at times. But never his first name, which is the first indicator that he’s about to tip right over.

Ayato grabs his own cock, stroking it furiously. He rides Itto faster, the slick rise and fall of his hips slapping. Itto comes first, driving into his ass, spilling deep and all over his insides. And Ayato fucks him through it, forcing him to go taut with overstimulation.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck—Bro, I’m—”

Ayato tumbles over too, squirting come all over Itto’s stomach, abs painted white with his thick, sticky spend. Itto groans, head falling back as he melts against the hard ground of the cell.

It is over as soon as it begins. “Hurry,” says Ayato, pulling off of him, reaching up to undo his bindings. Uncaring of the mess that dribbles out of his ass and down his thighs—though he catches Itto’s stare. “Later,” he hisses.

Itto blinks, turning back to Ayato. “Later?”

“Don’t you want a second roung? You always challenge me to a rematch.” Celestia above, he sounds ridiculous. But Ayato is dick-starved enough that he’s willing to make an utter fool of himself to appeal to this moron.

They trip into their clothing, righting them enough to look halfway decent. The guard knows, though. He’s pink in the face as he leads them back to the foyer, shoving a bag of Itto’s belongings into his hands. “I—yes, well, good day.”

Ayato tugs him through the front door before Kujo Sara can turn the corner and demand that they stay.

And Itto goes, he tumbles after him, eager for the second round of debauched filth that he’s been promised. Ayato thinks that perhaps they might have to consider a new arrangement when it comes to their games. He might be clever enough to come up with a strip version of beetle fighting. Maybe.

It isn’t until they’re nearly back to the estate that something dons on Itto. “Wait,” he says, pulling Ayato to a halt. “How’d you pay for my bail?”

Right. For all his goofish charm, Itto isn’t the most brilliant. Ayato reaches out and pats his cheek fondly. “You are quite lucky that you have a wonderful cock.”

“Uh, thanks? I mean, like bro-to-bro, right? ‘Cause yours isn’t half bad. It’s cute—”

“That’s enough of that, Itto.”

#genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #Itto/gorou #ittogorou

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