#crepe hall of angst
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monards · 9 months ago
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Currently obsessed with thinking about Rhine and Alice meeting as teens... Alice watching her friend growing older and older than her until the cataclysm. Then she caught up to her... And then started surpassing her.
As much as it hurts her, she's long accepted that losing friends quickly is part of being around humans, but she never expected to have to be the first to die, and she knows rhinedottir won't take it as well as she would've.
(there are two wolves inside of me one wants to spoil rhinedottir and see her happy and the other one wants to see her break)
anon. oh my god. ANON WHO HURT. WHOM/. WHAHT AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH i had to take a like. 15 minutes break after getting this, it hurt me so bad. but. we're back now.!!!!!!
I think the ambiguity around both rhine and alice's pasts is what makes them so fun.,,,, but oughhh boy does this take the cake. oh my god. head in hands as i scream.
I'm always sosooo weak to the growing old trope,, and this is just repeatedly stabbing and twisting blades into my heart. i think one of the most horrific things about the curse to me is ALWAYS gonna be the fact they're just stuck in time. they're always gonna be the same,, they can change their style, or whatever,, but they're always gonna be the them they were at the cataclysm... and the way that contrasts SO much which Alice and her almost ever changing enviornment,,, oh fuucjkkkk. Rhinedottir is her constant. Somebody shoot me in the head. I can't even BEGIN to imagine how horrific it'd for Alice to be the only one changing. for once. If they had meet as teens,, i wouldn't doubt Alice would've already been preparing to lose rhine (assuming that, if elves have 'elongated lives' that means they age weird or whatever that entails, and she would've already been through a few things by then to warrant her being a little more. well thought out) and then out of nowhere, after all this mental prep. everythings flipped upside down. and bam. she's not gonna lose rhine; rhine's gonna lose HER. Considering how sympathetic Alice clearly already is,,, that would've messed her up SO bad. oughhh boy i can't even imagine how unhealthily attached in some ways rhine could've grown during the cataclysm itself,, since when literally everything you have and loved is ripped away from you when you're hardly even a fully grown adult by then, i wouldn't blame if she sort of grew into thinking of Alice as the one thing she still had; so i can't even imagine how SHE'D react finally letting it sink in that Alice wasn't gonna be there eventually. ^ And if this actually WERE the case in canon sense (which. for my mental health im desperately gonna pretend it isn't.) ,, it'd make soo much more sense why Albedo goes to Alice with a letter, instead of Rhine communicating herself. Her trying to distance herself from Alice... because she's scared to lose alice while loving her and having her be sooo engrained in Rhinedottir's routine.. so she's trying to distance and separate herself... oughhh boy.
I'm. The entire second paragraph too,,, just about Alice herself being used to it, but not Rhine,,,, it's gonna KILL me. This is reallllyyyy feeding into my rhinedottir-humanization rants,, but dear god does it have to be horrific to experience every thing that humans were never designed to; and only adding to that list of scarring traumatic events its like, hey!!! you know the person you love???? who you sorta prepared to be with for the rest of your life?? well BOY do i have some news for you!!! -- and that makes me. So sad. so indescribably sad. Because realistically,, the average person can only go through SO much. And considering the fact I doubt rhine has really anybody who cares for her in that regard- especially after celestia effectively antagonized her to hell in back, and stuck a big red "sinner" sticky note on her head- i doubt she ever WILL again.,,, so uoghhhh her losing Alice... my heart... she'd be so fucked up after that. Like if anyone thought she went bonkers after elynas and durin got destroyed,, boy do they have something to learn. Especially with how embedded Alice is in her life already as much as she may not FULLY realize it,, they literally have a FAMILY. imagine how horrific it'd be for her to watch klee grow up, and then die too.??? the last part of alice in this world. gone. Oh my god. JEsus CHRIST. I can't emotionally recover from this idea head in hands.
anon you've officially ruined my mind. I will be thinking about this for next week. month. year. the rest of my life, actually. I will lay on my death bed and SOB over this. Thank you
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prythianpages · 22 days ago
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A Thousand Feelings | Rhysand's Sister
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Azriel x Carina (Rhysand's Sister OC) | Years have passed since Carina’s death, and Starfall hasn’t been the same. Everyone has mourned her absence alone, the once joyful night now marked by grief. But this year is different. Carina’s memory reaches out to them, drawing them together once more and shining bright, even reaching the distant borders of Spring.
warnings: angst, mentions of death, grief, inner circle mourning a loss, Tamlin also grieving and going through it a bit
a/n: Dia de los muertos (day of the dead) is one of my favorite holidays & I've been wanting to write something to share my feelings about it. And of course, I was also inspired by a song, Humbe's Fantasmas.
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The streets of Velaris are quiet, the stillness thick and solemn. Businesses and shops have closed early, their fae lights dimmed in anticipation of the yearly migration of spirits. Starfall, a silently beautiful holiday.
But when you’re missing someone, Starfall is deafening. The sky is different, the air is different. Everything is different.
The stars still shine the same, bright as ever against the dark. But every time Azriel looks up, he feels a scream tearing through his heart. A raw, endless cry of longing and grief.
Because the one he loved with all his being, the one he’d gaze up at the stars with has left. And with her, she’s taken all the light that used to fill Velaris, the laughter that used to echo down the halls of Rhysand’s townhouse, the joy that warmed his heart.
Now, every Starfall is a cruel echo of past years when she stood by his side, her hand wrapped in his and eyes wide in awe as she gazed up at the glimmering blue night sky. Now, he stands alone, feeling only the faintest warmth from memories that are fading too quickly. Now, he is forced to watch every day as the world goes on without her.
Azriel thought it was cruel how the city seemed so unchanged. As though nothing had ever happened, as though she’d simply vanished and the world had barely blinked in response. The small crepe stand, where he’d spent countless mornings waiting for her to choose a flavor only for her to always pick the strawberries and cream, still set up each morning, the nice older fae vendor smiling just as brightly as before. 
As he walked further down the cobblestone streets, he came across another favorite place of hers–the craft shop. He had so often found her, her hands stained with paint or glitter. How many times had he pulled her away from there, laughing as she made excuses, promising just a few more minutes. Now, he walked past it, with faltering resolve because he’d never step through those doors again. He no longer had reason to. And despite the heavy ache in his chest, the shop stayed open, as lively as ever.
Then, there was the bookstore. The mural she had spent days painting still glowing in shades of purples, blues and greens. She had painted her favorite view, the Sidra River on Starfall. The mural shone just as brightly as it always had, its colors unfaded by time. It seemed to mock him now.  
Carina was a part of this city, and yet somehow it went on without her, indifferent to the hole she’d left in its fabric. His heart twisted painfully. How could everything feel so normal? 
But what Azriel couldn’t see was the way the crepe vendor now served her favorite flavor every morning with a wistful gleam in his eyes. The craft shop owner left a set of her favorite brushes by the door, never selling them. And the bookstore staff polished the mural every week, making sure the colors stayed as vibrant as the soul who painted them.
Azriel continued down the familiar path he walked through every night he stayed in Velaris, unaware that the city mourned with him. His wings were tucked in tight and shadows hidden amongst them, silent yet attentive to their master’s tensed muscles. It was only when he finally reached the gates of his destination that they had slithered out to open them for him. 
His breath became shaky as the house came into view. It was the house he had bought for Carina. A place of sanctuary they had chosen together after marrying. Now, it is a sanctuary for animals. It’s what she would’ve wanted. When she lived, stray kittens and pups and smaller critters would find their way to the house, as if they knew of her gentle and loving heart. 
And though Azriel had been indifferent to animals at first, who was he to say no to her? He’d do anything for her. He still would and it’s why he came often to check up on them. He couldn’t bear living in the house without her so he hired someone to help.
Azriel always made sure the house was warm and safe and full of food. His devotion to this place was his devotion to her.
There was a flicker of light coming from the window and then the door was being thrown open, small but mighty footsteps making their way toward him.
“Mr. Azriel!”
A young fae girl threw her tiny arms around his leg. A soft smile curved his lips as he patted her head, his shadows curling affectionately around her small frame in response. From the doorway, another figure appeared—Bess. She stepped out with a sheepish smile. Bess was the fae Azriel had entrusted to help him run the sanctuary. She had been a long time friend of Azriel and Carina and shared the same love for animals as they did.
"Good evening, Azriel," Bess greeted, nodding to him as she coaxed her little girl back to her side. Her daughter grinned up at Azriel, giggling as one of his shadows playfully brushed over her arm.
“We were just heading to my parents’ to watch the stars. All the animals have been checked on and fed."
“Thank you,” he murmured.
"Shadow ate—" The girl paused, concentrating as she held up her tiny hand, counting her fingers slowly. His heart gave a pang he could not suppress as he looked down at the little girl by her side.  "One… two… three! Shadow ate three banana slices. He almost ate Peach’s slices, but I stopped him. It wouldn’t be fair for Shadow to eat four and Peach only two.”
“Oh, of course,” Azriel replied. He mustered a small smile as Bess smoothed her daughter’s hair, her eyes full of fondness. How many times had he imagined coming to this house to see an image like this before him. But instead of Bess and her daughter, he’d dreamed of it being Carina and his daughter. Their daughter.
When he looked up, Bess’s gaze met his, soft and knowing. 
“And then the butterflies hatched from their little chrysanthemums—” The girl babbled on.
“Chrysalis, Rina,” Bess corrected, chuckling. But at the sound of the name, her name, Azriel’s chest tightened.
Bess had named her daughter after Carina. She had still been pregnant when Carina passed, carrying the child that now stands before him. Yet he felt certain that Carina still saw her, still got to meet her in her own way. 
“She’s going to be the loveliest of girls with the loveliest of names,” Carina had whispered to Bess the moment she learned her friend was expecting.
“She? How do you–”
“Just trust me.”
“Chrysalis,” Rina corrected herself, continuing on her story of how the butterflies had emerged and fluttered about, captivating not just her but the kittens.
“Sounds like you had quite an eventful day.”
“Oh, yes!” Rina beamed looking up at him with bright eyes. “And now we’re going to wait for the stars! Would you like to come with us, Mr. Azriel?”
“Thank you but I think I’ll keep Shadow company tonight.” Azriel politely declined.
Bess’s smile faded slightly, her brows knitting in concern. “Are you sure? We’d be happy to have you over…”
Azriel held her gaze for a moment, seeing the quiet worry in her eyes. No one should be alone on Starfall, he read. But Azriel had spent every Starfall since her death alone.
So he managed a nod. “I’m sure.”
**
Azriel’s shadows stirred as he stared at the house. It stood quietly under the dark night sky. Ivy draped along the porch railings and up the walls. Night-blooming jasmines blossomed in the garden, their petals glowing softly. Moths and butterflies fluttered around, drawn to the pale flowers.  Every now and then, a firefly would blink, casting a tiny spark of light before disappearing back into the dark. Some of his shadows couldn’t help themselves, fluttering about just as the moths and butterflies did, to chase after the fireflies.  
Crickets chirped nearby and occasionally, there was the sound of a faint splash of a frog in one of the ponds he had made. He could also hear barking coming from the shed he had built in the backyard. A purring sound followed by something rubbing up against his leg pulled his attention downwards.
Azriel crouched down to pet the gray cat at his feet. Carina had named her Smoke, inspired by her smoky gray fur. Though she cared and loved animals deeply, she was not creative when it came to names. Smoke closed her eyes briefly, content with the loving pets from Azriel.
The cat was selective with her affections. Only Carina and Azriel ever earned her trust, Bess still slowly earning it. Moments later, Smoke’s kittens, barely a few weeks old, bounded out from the shadows, eager for his attention as well. His heart warmed at the sight. If only Carina could see them…
After a couple of moments, Azriel stepped inside, where he knew a little bundle of black fur awaited him. Shadow. Further proof of Carina’s lack of creativity with names as the small bunny with dark fur blinked back up at him. Carina had a long history of rescuing animals and finding homes for them. She drove her parents and Rhysand mad and though Azriel feigned annoyance, he honestly didn't mind it.
Shadow had been the first animal Carina brought to this house. She had found him by the Sidra, scared and injured. Despite his small size, Shadow had made his distaste for Azriel’s shadows clear, hissing at them and even biting Azriel a couple of times when he got too close.
But there was a time where Carina had fallen sick, leaving Azriel to care for him. The two came to a mutual understanding and eventually grew close. By the time Carina had recovered, the bunny was following after Azriel as if it were one of his shadows, living up to his name.
Cradling Shadow close, Azriel let his gaze drift down the dim hallway toward the grand staircase. He hadn’t ventured upstairs in months, maybe even a year. That part of the house had been theirs alone. A private corner of the world where they could escape, untouched by anyone else’s presence. But tonight, he felt drawn to it, tugged towards it in the wake of a dream of Carina. In it, he had been content to just hold her while she embroidered. He held her tighter in his dream, dreading the moment he’d wake up.
Setting Shadow gently back in his cage, Azriel made his way toward the stairs. One of his shadows rushed to him and curled around his ear. The message it gave had his muscles tensing in alarm.
Someone was in the house. 
His shadows coaxed his gaze to one of the rooms. Carina’s studio. The door was always closed and locked but tonight, it was wide open. His hand instinctively gripped the dagger strapped to his thigh as he approached, moving soundlessly until he reached the doorway.
Standing in the studio, holding a paper bag, was Rhysand. A scent drifted from the paper bag that Azriel knew well. Strawberries and creme. Carina’s favorite.
Rhysand seemed lost in the room, surrounded by countless paintings, sketches, and memories brought to life by Carina’s hand. She had painted Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian atop Ramiel, the three stars of Night Court glittering above them. Nearby, a sketch captured Mor mid-laughter, a glass of wine in hand, while Carina’s mother beamed beside her. Her desk overflowed with paintbrushes, pencils, and scattered paper. Above her desk, two portraits hung proudly. One of Carina’s mother and one of her father. 
But Rhysand’s gaze was fixed on a larger portrait leaning against the wall between the former High Lord and Lady of Night.
Carina loved painting everything and everyone but herself. She especially loved drawing Azriel, her greatest muse. One night, he had asked her to draw herself. She had paused and looked at him, a strange but profound look in her eyes. One he didn’t understand then but he understood now. She knew she wouldn’t be here for long.
His throat tightened as he stared at the painting, grateful she had left him something so precious to hold onto. Her beauty, even in paint, commanded attention. She shared her brother’s sun-kissed skin, raven-black hair, and striking violet eyes. But Carina’s hair tumbled over her shoulders in silken waves, a single, captivating streak of white framing her face, her brow on the same side also streaked with white.
A mark her mother always said was a blessing, kissed by the moon herself.
“I thought I’d bring these,” Rhysand said quietly, holding up the bag. “She’d never let me come here without something for her.”
Azriel’s heart clenched. He hadn’t expected to see Rhysand here, but of all people, he understood the pull of this place. Azriel had lost his partner, his wife. But Rhysand had lost a sister, his twin. The studio held the weight of memories, settling heavily on his chest.
Since becoming High Lord, Rhysand had refused to celebrate Starfall publicly. Everyone who had made the holiday joyful was gone. His father. His mother. His sister. Carina had always looked forward to Starfall, making grand arrangements at the House of Wind so they could all watch the stars migrate together.
Starfall was a celebration for those that had passed, to honor those migrating souls. But to celebrate it for Carina rather than celebrate it with her…
 It was a truth Rhysand did not want to accept, even though it’s been years. Nor Azriel.
They stood side by side, silent as they gazed at her portrait, almost expecting her to step out from the canvas, to fill the room once more with her warmth and laughter. Rhysand set the bag of crepes on the table below the painting, and Azriel noticed the slight tremble in his fingers.
“I thought... I thought it would get easier if I came here,” Rhysand admitted, his voice cracking. “But it’s as if I’m still waiting for her to walk through that door and tell me it’s all been a bad dream.”
Azriel nodded, his gaze not leaving the portrait. “I feel the same,” he murmured. “It’s hard being here but keeping this place and taking care of it...it’s the closest I can get to her now.”
A sudden, loud barking came from outside, disrupting the silence that had followed. Rhysand straightened, sharing a brief, wary glance with Azriel as the sound of a door splintering rang through the house. In an instant, they were on high alert, Azriel’s shadows coiling around him, ready to strike.
Their muscles relaxed only slightly as familiar footsteps echoed through the hall, quiet but unmistakable. Cassian appeared in the doorway, breathless from breaking in through the back. His eyes widened in surprise, taking in Rhysand and Azriel.
“I–I didn’t think anyone would be here,” he admitted, a sheepish tone slipping into his voice. “If I had known you were here, I would’ve knocked.”
“No, you wouldn’t have,” Azriel deadpanned.
Cassian’s mouth quirked up in acknowledgment. Azriel was right. Barging in unannounced and loud had always been his style. Carina never minded it, though. Somehow, she’d always seemed to know he was coming, greeting him with a bemused smile rather than annoyance while Azriel would glare from behind her.
“I dreamt of her and I thought she would like to see a dear friend again,” Cassian said, pulling a small rag doll from his coat.
The faded fabric was frayed at the edges, and a patch covered where one arm had once torn. It was Carina’s doll—the one Cassian had accidentally ripped one night. He’d felt so terrible afterward that he’d begged her mother to teach him to sew, spending hours pricking his fingers to stitch it back together. The doll had never quite looked the same, but Carina had cherished it even more, carrying it with her everywhere. After her passing, she’d left it for him on his bed with a letter. She had written letters for all of them.
He set the doll next to the crepes Rhysand had brought, a silent offering.
Before any of them could speak, a sharp, indignant meow cut through the air. Azriel’s shadows tensed again, hovering near the door as more sounds drifted up from downstairs. Rustling, footsteps…sniffling? 
“Stupid cat,” came a familiar voice, thick with tears, louder with each step. “I brought you, your stupid salmon…only the best, for Carina’s spoiled little brat…” The voice trailed off as Mor appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening in surprise the same way Cassian’s had just a couple of moments ago. “What are you all doing here?”
Mor glanced between the three males, eyes lined with silver.
“It wasn’t planned.” Azriel said.
“So we all dreamt of her last night, didn’t we?” Rhysand asked quietly.
They all looked at each other, eye glistening with tears and a shared understanding that needed no words. For years, Starfall had come and gone, each of them grieving Carina alone in the darkness. Too shattered to reach out, yet silently yearning for each other’s company. They had mourned in solitude, drowning in their quiet sorrows. A grief Carina would never have wanted for them and she most certainly would not have wanted them to spend Starfall, her favorite holiday, apart. 
Mor’s gaze drifted to the desk where a small portrait of Carina rested, capturing her cousin’s warm, spirited smile. Her features softened, and her hand rose to her chest, fingers grazing the silver mood ring that hung on a simple chain. It clashed with the golden mood ring she wore on one of her fingers but she hadn’t cared. Carina and Mor had bought the matching rings together at one of the night markets. On nights when Mor wished to be closer to her beloved cousin, she wore the ring around her neck.
Her gaze then landed on the crepes and doll carefully placed in front of her portrait. She then decided to unclasp the necklace from her neck and placed it gently in front of Carina’s portrait. An altar had formed–a small collection of memories now laid before Carina’s portrait. 
“Do you remember,” Mor began, her gaze still fixed on her cousin. “How she’d make us toast Starfall with raspberry wine? She’d insist it had to be raspberry, even though none of us liked it.”
Cassian chuckled, shaking his head. “Not a single one of us had the heart to tell her.”
Azriel’s lips curled into a fond smile, a rare warmth softening his features. “Oh, she knew,” he revealed, sharing a secret they’d kept for years. His gaze grew distant as he remembered Carina’s delighted grin, the gleam in her eyes as she’d pour each glass herself, ignoring the grimaces as they took their first sips. “But she said it was ‘tradition.’”
Rhysand let out a soft exhale, violet eyes glittering with both amusement and sadness. “Her own tradition, mind you, not one she inherited.”
“Well, we should keep up the tradition, right?” Mor turned around to face Azriel. “Do you have any?”
Azriel nodded, his throat tightening. “Yeah,” he managed, knowing there was still a stock in the cellar—bottles he’d left untouched and unopened since the last Starfall they’d shared with Carina. “I can get us some.”
A few moments later, he returned with a bottle, his shadows carrying five glasses. The dark tendrils handed a glass to each of them, setting the fifth in front of Carina’s portrait. Azriel filled her glass first.
“It’s clear to me Carina didn’t want us alone tonight,” Mor said, cradling her glass to her chest.
“She would’ve never wanted us alone,” Cassian murmured in agreement.
“She would’ve absolutely hated it.” Azriel chimed in, his voice barely a whisper. He looked down, feeling a pang of regret and guilt. “I’m sorry. I thought it would’ve been easier alone…”
Rhysand placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulders, a look of pure empathy on his face.  “I thought the same. But I’m grateful to be here now. With all of you.” He raised his glass. “Carina has brought us together this Starfall and we’ll spend it together as she would’ve wanted.”
“To Carina, the sweetest and most loving soul.” Cassian raised his glass toward her portrait. 
The others followed after him, each lost in their own memories. As they toasted, Carina’s violet eyes seemed to shine with a spark of life. Just then, the doors to the balcony swung open, and a cool breeze swept through the room, rustling papers and lifting brushes. They felt it—a presence. Something familiar and bittersweet.
Starlight trickled through the window, casting a faint glow around the room. 
Rhysand’s breath caught as the faint hum of a melody drifted through the air, one his mother used to sing on Starfall nights. He could almost hear the distinctive footsteps of his father, the crinkling of his old leather boots. And then—the clear, bright sound of Carina’s laughter, echoing as if from a dream.
Cassian’s eyes shone with unshed tears, his hand reaching out to clasp Azriel’s other shoulder. Mor reached for Rhysand’s hand, squeezing it tightly, and he returned the gesture, pulling her close. In that moment, they were united by the memory of the female they’d all loved.
As Rhysand looked at Carina's portrait, a tear traced down his cheek. Happy Starfall, sister.
Azriel looked up at the sky, already shimmering. They all stepped out onto the balcony. The world seemed to fall silent, even the animals still as the first star streaked across the sky. It’s as if they also knew that Carina would be amongst those migrating spirits. Along with her mother and father. Along with Cassian’s mother. 
A thousand emotions surged through them. A mix of sorrow, gratitude, and love that blurred the line between the past and present.
They say that when someone you love dies, a part of your soul dies with them. They had each felt it—that aching void, the heavy absence. But as they stood together, they came to understand something else. When someone you love passes, a part of them remains with you. They remain in every cherished memory, in love and in moments like these. 
Carina may have passed, but her memory lived, woven into the very stardust that fell around them. She had come to them tonight, reminding them that her light would remain in their hearts, glowing a little brighter with every Starfall.
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"En esta casa no existen fantasmas. Son puros recuerdos. Son mil sentimientos, de lo que vivimos cuando tu estabas aqui." which translates to "In this house, ghost don't exist. Only memories. A thousand feelings of what we lived when you were here."
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Meanwhile in Spring Court…
Tamlin sat slumped against the rough bark of a tree, his gaze fixed on the night sky. A sense of immense guilt gnawed at him. It was Starfall tonight. He knew this because the holiday had meant so much to Rhysand and Carina. His friends. Or at least, they used to be. The twins had always spoken of the streaking spirits that lit up the sky in the Night Court.
But here, in Spring, the migrating stars were hidden beyond the distant horizon. Still, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the stars that dotted his own skies, searching for something he couldn’t quite name.
Would Carina be among them tonight? he wondered, his heart heavy with regret. 
Tamlin couldn’t shake the feeling that her death and her mother’s was his fault. His choices had led to this moment, to this hollow loneliness that sat like a stone in his chest. He lost everything that night. His family, his friends.
But he deserved to feel this way, to feel this pain. 
Rhysand hated him, he couldn’t even look him in the eyes at the first High Lord meeting after the tragedies. And Rhysand had every right to. It was all Tamlin’s fault...
Tears pricked at his eyes and then he felt it. Something cold yet comforting like the softest of touches. Startled, he raised his hand to his cheek, feeling the dampness against his skin. He looked up to the sky but there was no rain, no storm clouds in sight. When he brought his hand up to his face, he saw pure stardust glowing back at him.  
And then he saw it– a second star. It soared across the sky, coming closer and closer. It disappeared into a pool of water just in front of him, lighting the still surface. The pool shimmered, turning to liquid starlight.
A starpool, bright and ethereal. 
Tamlin wiped hastily at his eyes before leaning forward to get a closer look. He reached out a hand, his fingers brushing along the water’s edge. The water lapped gently against his hand, coating it in the same stardust residue that coated his cheek.
The sight made his heart ache. It can’t be, he thought, looking back up at the sky for answers. There were no more shooting stars. Just the steady gleam of the ordinary ones blinking back at him. A breeze stirred through the clearing, cold yet oddly soothing. It whispered through the branches, through the leaves, a murmur he couldn’t quite decipher, but in his heart, he understood.
“I forgive you,” it seemed to say and he just knew it was her.
Tamlin’s composure shattered completely. He buried his face in his hands, not caring over the stardust that smeared his face. His tears spilled freely now as he leaned over the water, his shoulders shaking.
The weight of his grief, his guilt, his longing for forgiveness—it all poured out into the stillness of the Spring Court, witnessed only by the stars, the quiet voice of the night and the starpool that had been gifted to him by her.
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[masterlist]
a/n: There's not much details about Starfall other than it being migrating spirits so I tweaked it a bit to resemble Day of the Dead more. I love this holiday so much and look forward to hearing memories of loved ones that have passed away. For the inner circle, I imagined the death of Rhysand's sister hit them all hard and in this particular au, I could see them suffering alone. But Carina definitely would not have wanted that so she visited them in their dreams and brought them together. Hope you enjoyed getting a glimpse of her. I can't wait to write more about her!
I debated a lot on whether I should've included Tamlin's bit or not but decided, why not? I think about him a lot and how alone he must've felt after becoming High Lord.
General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho
@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe
@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette
@alwayshave-faith
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damn-stark · 7 months ago
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Chapter 39 Heart on fire
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Chapter 39 of Sugar
A/N- We’re so close to that scene :/
Warning- Swearing, ANGST, fluff!!, violence and blood, Sukuna, SPOILERS!!!! long chapter!
Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader
Episode and or chapters- Chapters 255-256
(Let me know if you want to be tagged)
————
*THE DAY BEFORE*
“Hello?! Can I come in?”
You drop the dirty bed covers and rush to the door to welcome your daughter who had stayed the night with Satoru, after your wedding because he was nice enough to take her so Choso and you could have the night to celebrate.
“Good morning Chipmunk,” you greet her happily.
Satori smiles at you and greets you back sweetly as her eyes wander inside the room. “Good morning.”
You step aside and let her walk into the room you share with Choso, which probably seems weird to her considering only a year ago her father would greet her every morning.
“Good morning Satori,” Choso greets as he walks out of the bathroom with his wet hair draped over his neck and a hairbrush in his hand.
“Hi, Choso,” she greets timidly as she sits on your side of the bed and watches him sit at the other end. “Was your night at your uncle's fun?”
She drags herself back and hums as she nods eagerly. “Ijichi, Shoko, my Uncle, and I went to get crepes for breakfast,” she says as she intently watches Choso begin to brush his hair. “I had ice cream in mine because my uncle said it was okay.”
You draw in a deep annoyed breath as you pass by your daughter, but she has no clue that the retell of her breakfast choice annoys you.
“Uhm, Choso…” she pauses and inches herself closer to him. “Can I…brush your hair?”
You stop as you pick up the bed sheets once again and glance at Choso and your daughter with curiosity to catch what he’d say and what reaction he’ll carry on his face.
“Oh,” he says under his breath with surprise before he twists his body to look at her with that same surprise twisted on his face. It almost looks like he’s afraid to respond though since Satori and Choso are still getting used to each other.
“If that’s okay with your mother,” he makes sure to say, making both pairs of eyes fly to you at the same time.
“If that’s okay with you,” you redirect with a wobbly smile brought by pure excitement. “If you like your personal space that’s fine, she’ll understand.”
Choso blinks and looks at your daughter, catching her dark eyes gleaming with anticipation, so how can he say no?
Not like that was ever his intention in the first place, he just needed to check in with you first.
“Yeah, that’s fine, go ahead,” he gives Satori the go-ahead, making her squeal before she scurries over behind him.
“I promise not to pull,” she assures him as she takes the brush from his hand. “And I promise not to leave your buns crooked like…” she trails off and leans in his ear. “…like my mommy,” she whispers very loudly, causing you to pout—“but you can’t be mad at her, Belinda says she would always do my mom's hair when she was a little girl.”
Choso’s shoulders shake as he laughs and they both peer back at you before he whispers back just as loudly. Albeit he means his comment more as a teasing one rather than an actual warning like Satori’s.
“As long as you promise then.”
Satori beams at him and nods before she grabs some of his wet hair and starts to gently brush it.
“I used to brush my daddy's hair too,” she mentions, so you start to walk out of the room to drop the sheets outside the door—“Nanako never let me brush her hair, but Mimiko did. And my dolls can’t talk, so brushing their hair is boring, and my uncle's hair is so small.”
“Short,” you correct her from outside the hall.
“Right,” she repeats. “Short.”
You hum contently as you walk back to collect the blankets since Choso and you stained those too.
“Did you ever brush your brother's hair?” She asks innocently. “What about your mom did she brush your hair.”
You stop and glance over just in case you need to interject and tell her about his family, but Choso lets out a small breath and responds calmly, with no sign of discomfort or sorrow. “I never met my mother, and one of my brothers had a strand of hair, while the other had no hair. And Yuji, well, I think we’re too old for that.”
“Oh, well, I can brush your hair then,” she tries to comfort him. “You just tell me.”
He hums softly and whispers kindly. “I will. Thank you.”
You smile to yourself and continue to walk out, this time though, you have to take it all to the washer so you stop under the doorframe and talk to the pair over your shoulder. “I’ll be back, I'm going to put this in the washer. Don’t leave,” you tease.
“Maybe we will,” Satori doesn’t fail to throw right back in between snickers
You scoff in amusement and hurryingly do what you need, catching your brother outside the house trapped in a conversation with the chatty old lady who lives down the street. He doesn’t notice you which is a good thing, you don’t want to go out there and save him from that conversation because all that will happen is you will get caught with them too, and not be able to get out until the old lady wears herself out of talking. Which, for someone her age, is pretty impressive.
When you return upstairs to rejoin Choso and Satori though, you come to a stop past the door, not because you catch Satori’s protective Tiger cursed spirit small like a little tiger cub and staring right into your soul, but because what she asks Choso catches you off guard.
“Will you get your dad out of my daddy? He was mean and kind of scary, my daddy was never like that.”
You swallow thickly as you realize how traumatizing it must’ve been getting treated so poorly by a man who is using her father's body for his advantage. You did spare it a thought, you checked in on your daughter after it happened, but with everything that's going on, with all the loss you had to endure in the span of a day, you have to admit you haven’t been such a supportive mother to your daughter.
“It won’t be me,” Choso admits. “I wish I could, but I’m needed elsewhere. Your mom and someone else will get my father out of your dad's body.”
You tiptoe further and stay under the shadow of your bedroom's hall to listen in undetected, noticing at that moment Satori put the brush down and express deep worry. “Oh.”
Choso notices that shaky exhale and slowly turns, catching you watching in the distance but shying away.
“Your mother is strong, she’ll win,” he tries to assure Satori with what he knows will be true. “She’ll come back to you.”
The Tiger cursed spirit tangled with her soul nuzzles his head against her to comfort her weeping heart and she speaks up quietly, almost sounding afraid. “My daddy was strong too, but he never made it back home.”
Your breath catches in your throat and you get ready to step out of the shadows to go and comfort her, but Choso doesn’t find any hesitance before he brushes a strand of her behind her ear and comforts her with that soft and tender voice he always talks with when he’s with you and Yuji.
“I will protect your mother with all the strength I have so she can come back to you, I swear.”
Satori sniffles and blinks repeatedly before looking at him with such sad eyes that you feel your heartache at the mere sight.
“You promise?” She asks.
Choso holds her gaze so she can know he’s trustworthy and nods to reassure her. “I swear.”
Yet as much as your heart aches, you still can’t help but smile in awe at the bond Choso and Satori are slowly building. It makes you so happy that they’re getting along.
“Okay, as long as you promise,” her voice shifts to sound more upbeat now that she has the reassurance she needs. And since their conversation isn’t so personal anymore you walk out and sit with your daughter on the bed, choosing to lay down behind her and watch Choso get up to grab something from his drawer.
Satori sees how you’re splayed out and turns to lay on you, causing her Tiger to climb on your legs and mirror her actions.
“I have something I want to give you Satori,” Choso lets her know, piquing her interest to the point she basically jumps up on the bed to turn and face him.
“A present?” She asks giddily and clasps her hands together.
Choso faces her with a small red box in his hands. When he reaches the edge of the bed Satori crawls over there excitedly and doesn’t think twice before taking her gift from his hand.
Before she can open it she glances over at you with an excited grin and then looks down to open her box, seeing a gold heart locket necklace tucked inside that she takes out with widened eyes glimmering with overwhelming joy.
“Look, Mommy!” She exclaims giddily and crawls back to you to point to her name engraved on the locket. “That’s my name and…it matches your locket too!” She bounces before she opens the locket and almost stops breathing when she sees what is stored inside.
“Who is it?” You ask knowing who it was in the pictures already.
“Daddy, you, my sisters, and the other one is me, my uncle Nanami, and my Uncle Satoru,” she says as she admires the small photos you tucked inside. “Wow.”
Her eyes drift to you before she turns to give you her back and pass you the locket. “Put it on, put it on!”
You sit up, making her Tiger cursed spirit slide off your lap, and grab the locket, but interject first. “What do you say first?”
She looks at Choso with a wide beaming grin and quickly pours out her gratitude. “Thank you Choso, I love it so much! You’re the best.”
Choso swallows back the lump of happy and sappy emotions that form in his throat and can only offer her a soft smile between his emotional state. “You welcome.”
Satori looks down to admire her locket as you hang it around her, so you then look over at Choso and pass him a love-filled smile and tender words you mouth. “I love you.”
He mirrors your lovestruck look and doesn’t hesitate to redirect those sweet words in just the same way. “I love you too.
You spare him one last lingering and awe-filled look before you return your attention to your daughter still excited over her gift and can’t help the sweet thoughts that float into your mind about how much you appreciate and love Choso for cherishing your daughter and treating her so kindly. Any other man would have given her a cold shoulder for being the daughter of another man, but Choso really cares for her like she was his own child.
That’s how you know you’d die for him.
——
*NOW*
There they stand grande as ever, chests puffed out, confidence gleaming in their eyes, no sign of falter in their bravery or fear in their demeanor. That’s what you like about Larue and Miguel, they face the opponent fearlessly even if they feel a sliver of it.
It’s what Suguru liked about them too.
“You don’t know who I am?” Miguel proclaims with Mei-Mei’s little brother in his grasp after saving him from the demon, or so you piece together, you just got here.
“You Japanese people really ought to expand your horizons!”
You scoff in amusement and shake your head before you murmur. “Those idiots better not die.”
“You don’t trust them?” Choso asks he raises his head to look at the scene ahead over your head.
You grab at your healing wound and wince before you argue in their defense. “Even when I tried to hate them I trusted them. They’re my family, and besides Satoru, they loved me like my blood family never did. I trust them with my life and that of my children’s…I just don’t want them to die.” You blink and let your eyes flicker to the ground for a second as you basically breathe out your words. “I don’t want anyone else to die.”
You then step forward and hold your breath as Sukuna destroys the building Larue and Miguel are on. You know this destruction won’t be their demise, but your fear of losing the ones you love runs rampant now.
“Before you go,” Choso interjects and you hear his feet shift back on the ground. “Can I tell you that I love you?”
You watch Yuji pass by as you turn around and face your husband with your eyebrows knitted in confusion, but a soft enamored smile on your face.
“I know. I love you too. I would give my life for yours you know.” You mention lightheartedly.
But why is he being so overly appreciative at this moment? Not that he can’t be sweet, but what brought this on?
Is it your gash? Is he still shaken from your close meeting with death?
Or is it because Sukuna is still winning?
Nevertheless, you don’t ask because you watch Choso’s soft look quickly vanish as he steps toward you with his jaw clenched. “No,” he blurts sharply. “Don’t you ever do anything so stupid. Not for me.”
You step toward him and gently press your soft hands on his jaw. “Then for who? If not for you then for who? I love you.”
“If you love me you wouldn't throw your life away,” he argues back angrily. “If you love me you’d live your life. You’d live an amazing life with our twins, and with your daughter. And you’d remember me fondly, but never ever do something idiotic like that.”
You should hit him, you want to hit him rather than cry, but you look at his sweet and handsome face, you remember his promise and now you respond with anger. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me. I am not letting you go. I mean it, I would sacrifice what brings me pride and strength.”
Choso shakes his head and narrows his gaze before grabbing your shoulders and pushing you against a wall, whilst those honey-imbued eyes turn dark and threatening. “And I promised another you would return home. I mean to keep that promise because I cherish her too.”
Satori…he promised that to her…But what about the promise to you?
If he dies you won’t love another. You mean that. Your heart doesn’t have room to love another.
It’s why you can’t be sad. Instead, there’s something else that brews within you as you hear him talk so melancholy and like some doomed hero. And it’s anger.
“I would curse this world before I let you die, let that be clear.” You huff and push him off you to turn away and run off to join the others in the building that no longer has a roof or an upper part of its body, but stands by some divine miracle. And once again you see your family, Miguel and Larue fighting with everything they have just like they always have for as long as you’ve known them, and just like before it never fails to fuel your fighting spirit.
But how can you approach them? How can you surprise Sukuna to put him at a disadvantage?
Attack from the side?
No, he’ll catch you just as you run out of the shadows.
From up top?
Hm…
You could use your technique and then use a weapon for the sake of Choso’s poor worried heart.
There’s a chance Sukuna will catch you but you can still get one advantage from it, so you’ll do it.
You hop from wall to wall to get to higher ground without having to climb any stairs or anything, and when you can see everyone down below you gain a sense of cockiness that had otherwise been wiped out when Sukuna managed to land a slash on you.
It’s a dangerous thing. It always is, but you can’t help but pull on a smirk on your features before you step back to gain momentum when you sprint forward and hop off some brick ledge.
And just like you assumed, Sukuna catches your shadow on the ground growing bigger the closer you get to the ground, so he quickly disregards Miguel and looks up, when he notices that it’s you coming for another round, he gets prepared to swing another sharp slash, but rather than landing a punch on him, you pull your fist back and ram your fist on the ground instead, creating at that moment, a crater and sending shockwaves that blast Sukuna to the sky.
You snap your eyes up to keep your gaze on him and quickly push yourself off the ground to chase after him in the middle of the air.
Sukuna catches you right away with the two eyes he has left to see and prepares to block whatever attack he predicts, whilst you play dumb by throwing blasts of wind to try and hit him. As you get close to him, you throw one fist and he quickly counters by trapping your fist in his grasp, but that’s what you wanted. He fell into your trap.
He doesn’t know you’re fueled by your family's fire, by their mere presence, so he doesn’t expect you to swing your other fist, nor the gusts of wind wrapping around your hand before you swiftly throw an uppercut on his jaw.
Sukuna’s head snaps back, and a couple of drops of blood fly out, fueling that cockiness already pumping too wildly, so you quickly flip in the air and summon a blast of blazing fire from your leg to use it to kick him down to the ground.
The moment he lands, his body hits with a loud and violent crash as the ground crumbles beneath him. He expects you to quickly follow by quickly coming down and jabbing your fist in his chest, so he swiftly gets back up.
However, instead of you hitting him, Miguel is the one who throws his fist, almost catching the beast off guard, but at the last second gaining his attention.
Albeit, just as Sukuna counters, Miguel is swift and catches one of his wrists, while deflecting the other fist. You land beside them and watch Miguel jab his fist right on Sukuna’s wound on his chest and push him back right into Choso’s path.
Thus before Choso can be caught, he shoots piercing blood at Sukuna’s back, but of course, Sukuna senses the attack and drags himself back to let the piercing blood pierce through a wall. Then out of annoyance Sukuna turns around and throws a big slash at Choso that breaks through that cockiness you had let grow a little too big.
“Choso!” You bellow and feel your eyes widen when the slashes hit him.
You run towards him and don’t catch the sound of glass breaking above you.
“Choso?!” You call out in panic.
Said man steps forward on the balcony he’s on and puts his arms out to show off the gashes that cut deep on his arms.
“I’m okay, don’t worry. I managed to block it,” he says so you won’t worry any longer, or do anything stupid for him.
But the only thing you want to do is tell him to just stay out of the fight from now on, but he wouldn’t listen and you don’t want to argue with a wall so you look at him with a pain-stricken gaze that makes his heart sink, and that he’d recognize no matter what color eyes you had.
“I’m okay sweetheart. Go, counter him.”
You hesitate but listen and turn, catching Sukuna pushing Yuji off after the boy manages to catch him off guard and push him down on the ground so hard that it breaks beneath Sukuna’s weight.
“You’re still around?” He says with annoyance and a hint of boredom.
But by now he should accept Yuji is a strong and capable fighter, he should really be more cautious than annoyed. But maybe that’s a fault that will be his doom.
You surely hope Yuji is—no, you believe fate will make him the one that finally ends that demon.
Actually, you wish it would be at this very moment, you don’t want to risk losing anyone by prolonging this fight, but Sukuna is strong for a reason. So you need to titter him to that edge.
And a way you can help reach such a thing is by helping Maki. She startles you when you see her creeping towards Sukuna with her giant blade, but you quickly snap out of that stupor before you can give her away, and instead bask your arm on fire before building a beautiful blade made from your flames.
You don’t want Sukuna to notice Maki, so you help her by dashing forward and lunging at his chest like some desperate attempt. And just like you planned, he brings his hand down and clamps onto your wrist before snapping your arm down in a way it shouldn’t bend.
You cry out in pain, and it almost looks like you can see Yuji's pulse thump in his widened eyes when he sees the way Sukuna hurts you. And your name rings out from Choso’s mouth as he calls out for you. But as much as you’re writhing in pain and no matter who’s filled with worry, Sukuna pulls one arm up to get ready to bring a slash down and slice your arm off.
Yuji catches his attempt and gets ready to defend you, but before Sukuna can strike, before Yuji can come to your aid, Maki’s mighty blade swings up, and the hand Sukuna was going to use to slash off your arm, plops on the ground, making you smirk through your throbbing pain.
“Gotcha, ass,” you sneer.
Sukuna shoots you a seething glare and from one second to another he suddenly dashes away and out of anger and revenge, strikes Larue with a black flash.
Which would make it his second black flash. He could fully regain his RCT if he keeps going on like this, you need to work harder to weaken him, after all, you all know what he can do if he gains all his power back, and now that Satoru isn’t here to try and stop him, it would bring your doom.
Which is why you have to fight harder. You’ll have to apologize to Choso later about opting out from using your technique as your first line of defense, you just can’t willing choose to use blades when you have something stronger at your disposal. Plus, Sukuna hurt Larue. He almost killed him and took away someone else you care about. You won’t hold back, not because you’re hurt, and not because you’re not as strong as when you first fought him. You just snap your arm back in place and roll your shoulders as you pierce your glare into the depths of Sukuna’s soul.
You seep your cursed energy through the ground and get ready to grab pieces of it to throw it at him. However, just before you can pick anything off the ground, a grip grabs a hold of the back of your shirt and before you can fight back you’re picked up and yanked away, losing sight of your target, and the hold you already had on the ground beneath you.
You quickly look over to see who the culprit is and notice Choso kicking a long handlebar from the ground at Sukuna.
“Choso!” You call out in annoyance.
Your husband peers over his shoulder and shoots you a menacing glare. “Heal your arm.”
You part your lips to argue back, but he…he’s right. Plus now that you’re not caught up in your anger you catch Larue bleeding on the ground and barely keeping his eyes open.
“Larue!” You cry out with concern and run over to him since you are closer to him than Miguel is.
“Larue,” you mutter in disbelief and fall beside him to grab his soft face. “You’re okay, yeah? I just mean you’ll be okay, yes?”
His eyes slowly drift up and he swallows back thickly before he nods. “Of course, sweet Geto…oh, I suppose that’s not your name anymore.”
You can’t help but smile even if that name now only belongs to your daughter and the man who gave it to her.
“You took a hell of a punch, which means I was right about coming here,” Miguel scolds Larue as he joins the two of you.
“Maybe, but don’t you feel at least somewhat cockier knowing you fought off Sukuna as long as you did,” Larue tries to make the man see a brighter side to the darkness that Sukuna brings with him like a plague.
“I don’t run that way, you know that, Larue,” Miguel retorts as you both grab one of Larue’s arms and help him to his feet.
“Go home you two,” you almost sound like you’re pleading but you manage to play it off as a simple suggestion. “You played your part and did good.”
Larue slowly turns his head to look at you and gently shakes it with the energy he has. “We’re here already, we’ll wait for you so we can all return home.”
All this time you’ve been so mad…but now you wonder why.
“All right,” you fight against your better judgment. “At least meet up with Shoko and watch from afar. She’ll be able to heal you too. And…call Satori…just check in for me, please.”
Miguel nods this time. “Of course we will. Now run along, help take this bastard down.”
You narrow your gaze with concern. “Are you sure?” You probe.
“Hm,” he hums in agreement. “I got Larue from here.”
You look over to where you hear the commotion of the fight and catch Choso below with his fist in the air before he shouts out. “Supernova!”
The building Sukuna was in explodes, throwing out debris and a thick cloud of dust. You smirk since you can’t hide your pride for Choso’s quick thinking.
Yet it’s at that moment that you miss the flash that zips out of the building and hides in the cloud of dust. You catch a set of slashes that make it out of the cloud of dust, but you don’t catch the big demon until he’s suddenly behind the man you love, looking as menacing as never before.
“Choso,” you bellow out your warning, but Sukuna’s too fast, he grabs the back of Choso’s shirt and hurls him to a nearby wall.
You see Choso crash and don’t even get time to think before your feet take you over to him in a hurry.
Alas, Sukuna lunges at Choso first and throws his fist.
“Choso,” you shriek with your heart clenched in your chest.
Sukuna’s fist hits Choso and bright black flashes explode out of the swing, sending you to a blind fury.
You don’t even move from where you are though. Not at that instant, first, you gather a thrashing orb of air and shoot it at Sukuna as if it were one of Choso’s blood arrows.
The moment it gets close to Sukuna he doesn’t find the second the dodge it, the ball of air smacks him across the face and throws him away from where Choso is. Second, you race after Sukuna like your life depends on it and hop off your feet and bring your fist down on him. Albeit he manages to block this attempt.
But, you don’t let it stop you, you add more force to your fist almost in a way Yuki would do, but you’re lacking her technique, so you just use the weight of the air wrapped around your first and use your cursed energy.
“You will not take him away from me,” you sneer but not loud, low, and with a menacing growl behind each word before you bring both fists up and start swinging down like a feral beast.
Sukuna tries to hold you up and pull you away with the two hands he has left, but you keep adding more air, more strength, and add more raging elements that keep pressing him down so hard he’s making a hole in the ground.
“Love is such a potent thing,” Sukuna manages to say through gritted teeth. “It disgusts me.”
“The only disgusting thing here is you,” you snap back. You then summon water to your hand and quickly twirl it around him to trap his head in a water orb before shooting water through his eyes, his nose, and his mouth to drown him.
Sukuna’s fight against you weakens as he tries to fight off your attack but you add more force behind it, while that anger displays a smugness on your face.
“Die,” you whisper at him and imbue one hand with fire. You then snap your arm down to try and punch it through his stomach where his cursed enemy thrives, but before your fist can make contact, the mouth on his stomach opens wide and chomps on your leg.
Your eyes peel wide at the feeling of teeth piercing through your leg, and your advantage of bringing Sukuna close to death falters, leaving him the right moment to bring his hand up and grab your throat to hurl you away.
You roll on the ground and Choso shouts out, “Yuji do it!!”
“Right,” you catch Yuji shout back before Choso yells out for you while he quickly drags himself over to you to try and protect you as Sukuna stomps over to you with anger.
Nevertheless, before Sukuna can reach you, Yuji throws himself on Sukuna.
The demon of course catches the boy and blocks his knee from hitting him before grabbing the collar of his hoodie.
“Yuji,” you call out hoarsely. But another calls out your name right by you, and when you give them your attention you immediately push yourself to your knees, and that raging anger falls and is replaced by relief when you see Choso.
“Cho,” your voice quivers.
“My love,” he never misses the chance to say. “I'm okay as I’ll be now. I tanked his black flash, he didn’t get the upper hand this time.”
His words barely register, but they do and all you can feel is joy and extreme relief.
“You’re okay?” He asks and hovers his thumb over the fresh bruises on your throat.
You nod softly and grab his blood-stained face, and without saying a word you both reassure each other that you’re fine as you can be now, and without uttering a single thing you both find thousands of ways to express your love with a simple look.
If only you had more time to keep getting lost in each other gazes, but you have to look away, and as soon as you do you see Yuji piercing Sukuna with piercing blood.
“Yuji can’t yet use convergence,” Choso interjects, making you glance at him for a second before you can’t help but watch Yuji proudly—“which is why I need to keep looking after him.”
You hum in agreement whilst you slide your arm around his neck.
He doesn’t miss this chance to just touch you and grabs a hold of your arm, while you both watch from a distance, Sukuna stumbling back with thick pools of blood falling from his face.
“You’ve done well,” you praise Choso as you watch the scenery ahead.
“Hardly,” he mutters.
You’re about to look over at him to argue, but you then see Sukuna’s attention get stolen while Yuji prepares to hit him.
You don’t need to see to know who was capable of stealing Sukuna’s focused attention, you know who, but you still find Larue and see he’s the one who used his technique on Sukuna, letting Yuji land a black flash right on Sukuna’s chest.
Is this why Sukuna seems to hate him so much? Because he can be the one to kill him?
Does he see his potential like you do? Like everyone else did?
Besides feeling this new surge of power radiating off Yuji after those black sparks, you feel a sense of pride for him too.
Just two months ago all you knew was what he carried inside him, nothing else. Now you look at him and see this great and powerful kid and you know that everything you’ve wanted for the next generation is slowly unfurling in the way you, Satoru, Nanami, and everyone else dreamed of.
You only hope you can keep helping him with the technique you have, your pride, and your strength.
.
.
.
.
A/N- Sukuna punched Choso and that pissed her off now imagine when you know what happens, we’re gonna have real female rage!
Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina
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dewdewick · 9 months ago
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Shadows In The Dust |Chapter 3
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Pairing/s: Finnick Odair x fem reader
Summary: At the age of 18 you thought you’d soon be free of the hunger games, unfortunately fate has a different plan. You are picked as a tribute for district 2 and thrust into capitol life.
Warning/s: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Trust issues, Death, Torture, Mental illnesses, manipulation tactics, Weapons, Swearing, Canon typical violence, Mentions of psychological distress, Use of Y/N, Fem reader, descriptions of clothing reader wears, explicit descriptions of weapon use
A/N: Idk why but I really struggled writing this chapter. I’m excited to move on to the actual games and get to the fun stuff! Everyone say thank you Beta readers for helping me actually buckle down and write this.
Word count: 4.1K
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Somehow Y/N was awarded a slow morning, able to sleep in until 9am and take a leisurely shower. Her sore muscles relaxed under the spray of hot water and she felt she could take a moment to breathe for once in the past few days. She looked at her painted fingernails as the scalding water hit her back. A crimson color meticulously sculpted into a sharp point, Aerith was all about details and she wondered if even her fingernails symbolized something; a message or warning. A few drops of water fell from her eyelashes and she looked to the panel on the wall, turning the shower off and grabbing a large towel from the heated rack.
She stepped onto the soft cushion of the shower mat and looked at the large mirror on the wall. Drying off while studying her appearance, the way her wet hair fell and how her skin looked. She studied her body and wondered how she would look in the no doubt extravagant dress that she was to be zipped into that night. She frowned in the mirror, the thought of this place and all its luxury made her stomach turn a bit, it was so much all at once. She looked away from her reflection, setting her hand on the electric hair dryer and letting it work its wonders.
She dressed in a comfortable set of lounge clothes, silky and soft to the touch. She looked into her room and sighed at the idea of going to breakfast, she just wanted the moment of peaceful solitude to last forever. Her stomach however did not and growled in protest, she groaned, walking out the door and down the hall. Finch and his stylist sat at the dining room table, nibbling on the spread while conversing with a light tone. She took a teacup and poured from the pot of hot chocolate, smiling a bit to herself at the sweet scent.
“Morning sugar” Finch smiled as he noticed her presence, she looked up from her cup as he addressed her. “Morning, sleep good?” she asked, sitting in her usual spot beside him. He turned to face her a bit more, “Not really, I'm not used to all the noise” he laughed “but I got some rest this morning so I’m ok.” he said, sipping his own cup. “Can't be tired for Caesar” Hebe teased him with the sort of smile an older sister might give. He smiled back at her and stuck his tongue out playfully.
Y/N grinned into her cup as she took another sip, it was nice to see these kinds of friendly interactions. After all, being in the capitol was mostly that fake kindness and too wide smiles that made everyone not participating uncomfortable. She reached forward and took a few breakfast items onto her plate, she had learned she liked what she had heard called a “crepe”. She spread whipped cream over the pastry and littered it with the fresh fruit available, taking a few sausages and eggs along the way.
“Whipped cream for breakfast?” Finch asked teasingly, She grinned and stuck out her tongue just as he had a moment earlier. “I have protein too, dont judge me” she said, a few giggles permeating her words. “And you wonder why i call you sugar” He teased right back, taking a bite of his breakfast. Hebe sat and watched the two teens with a sad smile, she had been a stylist for 10 years and knowing the impending doom they faced never got easier.
The 3 talked for an hour and a half, Y/N learned that Hebe had 2 children of her own and how her husband had passed away so her sister and mother lived with them. Luckily stylists made an obscene amount of money so Hebe could pay for anything and everything her children needed. Somehow she even managed to get a few details on Aerith, learning the old woman had a wife and one son who worked as a gamemaker. She cringed at the thought, knowing that the old woman's son had watched her scoring session and would most likely continue to watch her closely throughout the games.
At half past 12 or so Furisha and Enobaria walked through the doors, shopping bags in their arms. “New clothes for the show tonight?” Finch asked. She could tell he was a bit annoyed, “Oh yes! New shoes and dresses,we’re going to look divine!” Furisha said as she pranced into the room. Y/N patted Finch on the arm, doing her best to calm his annoyance.
He stood and motioned for her to follow, a furrow in his brow. She took one last bite of her crepes and quickly scurried after him. Sharing a look with Hebe as she followed, they both knew something was changing about him. He didn't seem as blithe and debonair the closer they got to the games. He walked to the balcony across the room, setting his forearms on the railing and staring down at the bustling city below.
“What's wrong? Not a fan of shopping?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood just a bit. He only let out a huff through his nose at the joke, turning his head to look at her. “I'm fine with shopping, just not fond of the time they’re doing it.” He explained “We go into the games tomorrow and they're just recklessly spending money.” He grimaced. She patted him on the back, her hand rubbing in small circular motions. “You know how Furisha is, and Enobaria…” She hesitated, thinking for a second. “She's been in the capital a long time, You know how the people here are.” She shrugged. He sighed, “I just don't see how they can be so nonchalant when 23 of us will be dead by the end of the week… enobaria especially.”
“She's never really been one to cherish human life, I mean her teeth are definitely a clue to her opinions on the games.” she assumed, continuing on “Unfortunately the people who we’re surrounded with aren't all that understanding of the headspace we’re both in, although Hebe might be an outlier in that field.” She spoke, wanting the cringe at her own words. “Luckily you've got me, and even though I'm terrified I'll do my best to help you get through tonight ok?” She continued, offering a small reassuring smile.
Being the man he was, Finch turned and engulfed her in a warm hug. His arms circled her ribs as he bent over and buried his face in the crook of her neck. He smelled like maple syrup and generic green apple shampoo, a boyish scent that reminded her of their real age, only 18 years old. Her arms circled around him as well, “I’m gonna do my best to protect you too ok? Not just here but in the arena, promise.’ He said in a low voice. The thought made her smile a bit; even if he just made sure she had a quick death, that would be a gift in itself.
“Can we just be kids until it's time to get ready?” she asked quietly, "No adult responsibilities and no talks of death.” He nodded “sounds like a plan sugar” Her arms moved down to rest on his chest as she pulled away from the embrace. “I might have an idea, but it's pretty dumb.” she smiled, a bit of a giggle in her words. His eyebrow raised and a smile finally came over his face, “oh and what might that be?” he asked.
“Find as many blankets as you can and meet me in my room in 10 minutes kay?” she said with a grin as she pulled away from him. His eyebrows knitted together and he gave her an upside down smile as he tilted his head to the side a bit. “What are you planning?” he asked as she opened the balcony door to head back inside. She only gave him a large smile and walked inside, dashing off to god knows where.
A few minutes later he knocked on her door as instructed with a pile of sheets in hand that he had stolen from a nearby linens closet. She opened her door and immediately grabbed the blankets from him, unfolding them and adding them to the structure she had built from her bed posts to a few chairs across the room. The fort was impressive, especially since it had only taken her about 10 minutes to construct.
“Help me add sheets” she instructed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. After a beat of silence, he unfolded sheets as he was told, draping them on the makeshift fort to cover areas she might've missed. She arranged two blankets to serve as tent flaps, crawling into the fort and disappearing into the darkness within. Seconds later her head popped out, “Hand me some pillows?” she asked,sticking her hand out. Once again he did as he was told, handing her pillows that she placed in the fort behind her. He crouched down, peeking inside the small space while she arranged blankets and pillows all around.
“What do you think?” she asked with a large grin “my sister and I used to make these all the time in our room growing up. We pretended we were living in our own little cottage out in the woods, or maybe that we had an apartment in the capitol.” she added, laughing to herself at the memories of her childish actions. He crawled into the fort, hunched over until he could get into a comfortable position. “What else do we need? Or do we just sit here and talk?” He asked, shifting so he faced her, laying on his side. “Next we get snacks, books and flashlights” she said with a giddy bounce of her shoulders. “Oh of course, what's a proper cottage in the woods without those things?” he said teasingly, giving her a wink.
She only giggled, crawling out of the tent and making her way out of the room. He noticed a few storybooks that she already prepared in the tent, fairytales and adventure novels that only people in the capitol could acquire. She was a funny girl, he hoped she kept that same goofy sense of humor and look of wonder in the games, when she could at least. His mind wondered for a second how their lives could have been if not for the games. They most likely would have grown up together, he wondered if they would be friends or something more. He shook his head, dismissing the thoughts and laughed to himself as he hunched over to crawl out of the tent after her.
The two grabbed snacks, drinks, books, sweets, flashlights and even more pillows. Placing everything in the small tent - like structure. Her eyes widened for a second before she was about to climb in, “oh my god i have an idea!” she exclaimed, rushing around the fort and picking up the small remote on her bedside table. She pressed a few buttons and the lights grew to a burnt orange color, the windows transforming to a desert scape like district 2. Quiet noises of animals filled the room, the sound of the breeze accompanying the scurries.
His face broke into a grin as the room changed, “just like home” he mumbled to himself. She made her way back around the fort and crawled inside, tucking herself up against one of the makeshift walls. He followed, the smile still on his face as he grabbed a sweet and popped it into his mouth. For once they both felt like kids, laughing as they told stories and read adventurous stories aloud to each other. Y/n read in different voices and made sound effects to match, painting an exquisite picture of the story she read. Finch felt himself becoming even more drawn to her. She was unapologetically herself around him and he loved it.
Hours passed like minutes, the two drawing closer to each other like magnets until they were face to face. She read in a soft tone as he played with her hair, his fingers toying with strands absentmindedly. She finished the chapter, looking at him with a small smile. “Any predictions so far?” she asked, a giddy tone once again in her voice. He thought for a second and spoke just as softly “I think he’s gonna kiss her, and then their friendship will be all changed and awkward.” He guessed, a teasing tone in his voice. His eyes flickered down to her lips for a split second, his tongue darting out to moisten his own.
‘And…what if it didn't? What if she liked it?” she whispered back, her eyes raking over him as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. His hand came up to cup her cheek, his slightly rough fingers moving over the soft skin. “So what you're saying is, hypothetically of course, their friendship might be the same? She might not be mad?” He asked, his face moving closer to hers. She simply shook her head and let her eyes close, waiting for his lips to touch hers. Instead she felt his forehead rest on hers, a shiver running through her.
She kept her eyes closed and let her forehead rest on his. “Is this weird?” He whispered, his fingers still running over her cheek and jawline. She shook her head again, “not weird” she whispered back. She just kept basking in the sweetness of the moment. Her stomach had butterflies and she was sure she would spaz out if she opened her eyes to look at his handsome face. “I wish we had more time, i wish i could really know you for you” He lamented, “I want-“ he started, his sentence interrupted.
A knock came to the door, the culprit opening it after a second. “Ok you two, time to start getting ready.” came the sweet voice of Hebe. The two teens parted from each other's embrace, Y/N poking her head out of the makeshift tent. “Be right there” the girl said with a dopey smile, Hebe only winked at her turning to leave the doorway “don't keep us waiting too long!” she called as she left. Y/N looked back into the tent at Finch “I'm gonna ask them to keep the tent up, meet me here after interviews are done?” she asked.
The boy gave her a grin “wouldn't miss it sugar” he said as he crawled past her and out of the pillow fort, offering her a hand once he stood. “You'll do great tonight, and I know you're gonna look gorgeous.” He said with the debonair grin she had seen before. She blushed “getting all flirty huh?” she teased. He only laughed, helping her up and kissing the back of her hand. “See you in a bit” she smiled as he parted from her, giving a wink as he walked out her open door.
She smiled to herself and sat on her bed, flopping back on it with a sigh. Part of her was ecstatic that this sweet handsome boy liked her but another feeling gnawed at the bottom of her stomach, fear. Fear of the unknown like the games and fear of the known, her budding relationship with Finch. Her thoughts were, like always, cut short by Aerith walking in. The tiny woman clapped her hands loudly, “up up darling, we have perfection to create.” the old woman demanded.
Y/N huffed out a breath and stood up, following the old woman who led her to the foyer. A clump of people waited for her and looked anxious to start picking and preening her to perfection. The group surrounded her, leading her to the elevator and then to an unmarked car that took her to the venue where she would get ready, they didn't even let her put shoes on first. She was rushed into the venue where the work began; her hair was put in giant rollers that felt somewhat itchy and her face was smeared with many different makeup and skincare products. A few people worked on her hair and nails while others poked at her face and neck with brushes for what felt like hours.
She was stripped of her comfy clothes and zipped in a long tulle ball gown. The dress glittered in the light, a dark blue fading into a purple color like the sky at dusk. The sleeves Fell off her shoulders and the deep sweetheart neckline accentuated her collar bones. A gooey substance was spread on her chest and rubbed into her skin, making it glitter and reflect light. Finishing touches were done on her hair and makeup before she was brought to a large 3 fold mirror for Aerith to give her approval.
She stood and looked at her reflection just as she had done that morning, studying her face and hair. She didn't look like herself, she looked like the capitol's version of her and it made the sinking feeling in her stomach grow. Aerith's heels click in unison with Furisha’s, the two women coming to study her in the light. Furisha held a box in her hands, opening it once they got closer.
Small iridescent glass beads made up a necklace and earrings, they looked like tiny flowers that she recognized. “Lily of the valley” she said aloud as Aerith took the necklace out of the box. “Beautiful, native to district 2” she said, pulling Y/N down to clasp the necklace on. The clasp clicked and she smiled “and poisonous” she added.
Y/N felt uncomfortable in her skin, a chill running down her spine. Furisha clipped the matching earrings on her ears “you really look like a princess darling” she said in a genuine tone. Y/N smiled back politely “Thank you” she said as she looked back in the mirror.
Brutus knocked on the door, “Almost ready? We still want to give some last minute advice.” He said loudly. Y/N took handfuls of her skirt, walking to the door and opening it. “Let’s do it, I wanna throw up and I can’t breathe in this dress.” She said as she walked past him.
The mentors had a little more than 15 minutes to give advice before peacekeepers lined all of the tributes up by district. A countdown started and obnoxiously loud music blasted through speakers, almost rocking the stage they stood behind. The trumpets blared a song very aptly called “war”, the signature song of the man currently rushing onstage. Caesar Flickerman.
The man was obscenely tanned and his hair was a bubblegum pink with matching eyebrows. His teeth were almost too white as he smiled to the crowd, a laugh coming out his mouth as he waved to the audience and took a microphone. “Happy hunger games!” He shouted as the crowd screamed.
Y/N looked up as Finch turned around in front of her. He wore a completely black suit that faded to a blood red at the limbs. A subtle detail and a subtle way to match the two. “I knew you’d look gorgeous” he flirted with a sly grin. Y/N reached up, fixing his crooked tie and patting his chest. “Thank you” she said with a small smile. He took her hand, holding in lightly as they waited.
The show began quickly, the tributes from district 1 going first. Ammo and Dutchess dazzled the crowd with their witty banter and upper class demeanors. Finally Finch swaggered onto stage, giving Caesar a firm handshake and smile. “I must say, you look very sharp tonight!” the television host commented, an outstretched hand offering Finch a seat. “Oh, never as good looking as you Ceasar.” Finch joked, earning a laugh from both the audience and the host.
“Well I must say I think we all thought you and your beautiful district partner dazzled us at the tribute parade! Didn’t they, folks?” Caesar said, riling up the audience momentarily. “Who’s idea was that amazing little stunt?” He asked, a large grin stretched across his face. Finch smiled that confident smile before speaking “It was my stylists idea but being honest it couldn’t have worked if Y/N wasn’t such a good partner, she can really go with the flow and be incredibly gracious about it.” He laughed.
Caesar laughed along “oh but we all know your strength really pulled it off, I mean look at those biceps ladies and gentleman!” Caesar said, pretending to fan himself. Finch only laughed again “I’ve been training a long time and at this point picking up another person is child’s play” he said, mock flexing to the crowd. His suit crinkled a bit at the shoulder as he did so, really showing the size of his bicep.
“Oh I bet the ladies back home just go crazy for you! A strong man with that smile and personality? Forget about it!” Caesar said with a wink “any lucky girl back home?” He asked, leaning forward a bit in his chair. “Oh no, I mean there have been girls but right now I’m just trying to get back to my family” he said with a genuine smile. “Well I can say for a certainty that if you make it back home you’ll have all the girls wrapped around your finger. I know your family would be overjoyed.” Caesar nodded
“I can only try my best, and I hope I’ll see you after all of this,” Finch said, waving to the audience. Caesar stood up and patted his shoulder as he did too. “And we can’t wait to see it all, may the odds be ever in your favor. Finch Glenn ladies and gentlemen!” The television host said, a shout at the end of his sentence and his signature laugh accompanying it.
Finch waved to the crowd once more and exited the stage. A gaggle of people met him offstage, Hebe praised him with a kiss on the cheek and Brutus gave him a pat on the back. Furisha babbled about how amazing he did and Enobaria smiled but kept her distance. Y/N gave him a thumbs up before looking out at where she was to enter the stage.
Caesar talked for a moment before finally introducing her. “And now for our lovely lady from district 2! The dazzling Y/N L/N!” He shouted, she made her way into the stage, holding her dress so she wouldn’t trip. The crowd cheered and Ceasar grinned. “My my! You look absolutely stunning my dear! Like a storybook princess!” He complemented, offering his hand.
She took his hand with a smile and let him twirl her gently. The dress glittered in the stage light, making the crowd whoop loudly. She smiled charmingly at Ceasar “Oh thank you so much, you are too kind.” She simpered. He led her to a chair, sat her down and she gracefully crossed her ankles. “I must say darling you certainly have a lot of admirers in the capitol already, and your stunt at the tribute parade certainly helped. Do you get a lot of attention back home?” He asked, a subtle wiggle in his brow.
She feigned a shy expression, “oh I’m not too sure about that, I think I’m a pretty average girl” she replied, batting her eyelashes. Caesar grinned at the crowd, “Beautiful and modest! What a catch am I right?” He said with a laugh, she smiled at him again.
“So y/n on a more serious note, what do you plan on doing in the arena? How do you plan to win?” He asked, taking on a more stern expression. She sat up a bit straighter flashing another grin “Oh you know I can’t tell you that, spoilers after all” she said with a wink at the cameras. Caesar gave another loud laugh, slapping his knee as he stood up and took her hand.
“Beautiful, cunning and agile! I think if you make it back to us you’ll be a true princess indeed!” He said as he kissed her knuckles. “Miss Y/N L/N everyone!” He shouted as the crowd cheered. She gave a wave and a small curtsy as she left the stage. Furisha gave her a large hug as she stepped offstage, blabbering about how good she did. Aerith gave a tight smile and Hebe kissed her cheek.
She looked around for Finch, meeting his eye as he was leaning back from the crowd. He walked over and took her hand as they spoke with their team, holding it tight. They watched as the rest of the rest of the tributes went on stage, mentors meeting them as they exited. Y/N once again caught the eye of the mentor from district 4, his dimples appearing as he gave her a smirk. She blushed and looked away, squeezing Finch's hand.
*******************************************************
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heaven-s-black-box · 1 year ago
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Tomorrow- Pearl & Maya
Return to File
Recovery date: August 11th, 2020
Description: Maya and Pearl visit the ocean for the last time, not knowing it will be their last, and reminisce about their first visit.
Notes: Content warning for death. Recovered in conjunction with Pearls angst fan from research lab Ao3, we thank the for their contributions. The second entry can be found here.
Word count: 616
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“Mystic Maya?” Pearl asked, turning back to look at her.
“Pearly, how many times do I have to tell you? Just Maya is fine,” Maya laughed, stopping a few feet from her cousin.
“Sorry,” she let out a nervous laugh, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Can we go get crepes after this? Maybe we can see if Mr. Nick and Trucy wanna do dinner too!” Maya laughed and moved closer.
“Sounds like fun! But first…” she crept closer, “water fight!” She laughed, kicking some water at Pearl.
The girls were taking a walk along the beach by the ramen cart. Maya had just finished sending off the spirits from the past year, and Pearl had joined her this year. Not to send off spirits, just for ramen, just some quality time.
Maya had only recently returned from the kingdom of Khura’in, so they had been planning to meet up. Pearl had kept the village in order while Maya was gone, so she’d offer to treat the younger to ramen as a thanks.
---
“Nick! Nick!” Maya cried into the phone.
“Maya! Please, calm down. What’s happening?” Phoenix asked.
He had been sitting around, dragging himself through paperwork when she called. The others looked over at the slight panic in his voice.
“It’s Pearl! One minute she’s fine, and we’re having lunch, next she’s doubled over in pain. I-I had to call an ambulance. We’re at the hospital. Um… General hospital. Don’t bring anyone else, I don’t want to worry anyone.”
“Okay, I’ll be there ASAP.”
---
Pearl coughed, “Mystic Maya?”
“Maya, Pearl. You can call me Maya… please?” Maya asked.
They were in Pearl’s hospital room, just waiting. Maya had been called in earlier that week. The hospital said that Pearl didn’t have long, she’d pass any day now. So Maya had come by, everyday, to keep her company. 
“Maya, you don’t have to stick around. I’ll be fine.” Pearl’s smile was weak, and Maya couldn’t imagine the pain she must have been in.
“I want to be here, and I know the others will stop by as soon as possible.”
Pearl let out a weak laugh. “Maya, do you remember the first time we went to that beach together? The one by-”
“Ya, the one by the shrine. I remember. I snook you out of the village,” Maya laughed, “ Ms.Morgan bit my head off, and you tried to take the blame after. I told you it wasn’t your fault, and gave you the seashell.” She picked up Pearl’s he and and began rubbing the back of it softly with her thumb.
Pearl smiled, “I want to go back.”
Maya laughed. Her eyes stung, but she’d promised herself when this started, she wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t let Pearl see her cry.
“Alright, I’ll take you back. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday. We’ll have a picnic wit-”she was cut off by a long beep. Maya clutched Pearl’s hand tighter. “Pearl? Pearl! Someone! Please help!”
Maya stepped back as the doctors and nurses flooded the room. But it was no use, and she knew that. Even if there was a way to save her, Maya knew it was time to let go. Pearl would be safe with Mia, and Misty. She’d be happy, she wouldn’t suffer anymore.
The tears stung even more, and her throat tightened. She took out her phone as she stepped into the hall, and struggled to touch the blurry buttons. With a soft gasp and sniffle, she wiped her eyes and called Phoenix. She took a deep breath as the phone rang, although it didn’t ring long.
“Maya? What’s up?” She could hear the worry in his voice.
“Nick…”
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juliafied · 4 years ago
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First Line Game
Thanks for the tag, @nug-juggler and @midnightprelude! And, updated (thanks for the tags, friends): @in-arlathan, @musetta3, @rainwolfheart!
Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!
I only have 19 works, so here are my multi-chapter ones, followed by my oneshots below the cut. A lot of these are DADWC prompt fills, so here’s me nervously sweating hoping none of the first lines have blatant grammatical errors in them, haha! It is the coldest morning in Haven yet, and Lavellan’s lower back simply aches when she gets out of her narrow bed in the cottage that has been put aside for her.
Love All
He is serving, the first time Hawke spots him, the long fingers of his left hand holding the feathers of the shuttle elegantly, pinky and ring finger raised.
Taralen Lavellan (it’s a placeholder title, tbh, until I finally sit down to outline this one)
Dorian had been getting along quite well with Inquisitor Aeneris Lavellan. Famously, he could even say - she hadn’t even sneered at him after that rather embarrassing incident with his father. 
To Build a Home
“Absolutely not,” says Hawke as she stands in the doorway, hands on her hips, swollen belly jutting forward. “I won’t let you.”
The Lone Wolf’s Call
Fenris spat bitterly on the ground and re-read the last sentences of the letter.
Taking Root
Fenris had been scrubbing his chest plate when he heard a loud knock at the front door of the manor.
For Good Luck
The scent of mulled wine hung heavy in the air in the kitchens of Vigil’s Keep, and Bethany could feel more than hear the deep rumble of Oghren’s laugh echoing from the mess hall next door.
Forward, Hopefully
They have been on the road for three days now, and neither the wind, nor the rain, have shown signs of stopping.
Haute Societé Bi-Weekly: 14 Harvestmere, 9:41 Dragon
It is a truth universally acknowledged that any Orlesian lady worth her salt in attendance at a ball must be in want of some salacious gossip.
Sublime Dissatisfaction
It was a quiet night in the Hanged Man.
Semi-Lucid
“Hawke.” This is painful, Fenris realizes.
Three Stars, Dragon Rampant
Fenris had picked the book because Hawke had said it was a Fereldan classic, with a proud note in her voice and everything.
Cold Hands
It is the coldest morning in Haven yet, and Lavellan’s lower back simply aches when she gets out of her narrow bed in the cottage that has been put aside for her.
Midnight Crepes
It is a curious thing, for Fenris, to be escorting Hawke home.
Antivan Pearls
Hawke stared at herself in the mirror, fiddling with her mother’s necklace.
Floral-Scented Soap
It had been raining all night.
Blue
Fenris was fairly certain he had never seen water this blue.
Youthful Arrogance
Solas watched the Inquisitor Lavellan’s face as she walked away towards the ballroom, the familiar pinch between her eyebrows returning, where it had smoothed momentarily while they talked.
Stretching Exercises
A shaft of sunlight woke Fenris by falling directly onto his left eye, peeking through a gap between the heavy dark velvet drapes Hawke had recently bought, ostensibly to prevent this sort of thing.
Hearts Left Behind
“We will toast to his memory.”
It looks like I really like starting with a ‘slice of life’ sort of phrase, that says what the character was doing immediately before the start of the story. My favourite one is probably the Haute Societe one, although that’s probably just because it’s adapted from one of the best and most famous first lines in literature, so maybe that’s cheating, haha. Other than that, I like Semi-Lucid’s, since it establishes angst with just a name and an observation that implies that this is more painful than he expected. I’d also like to play around starting with just dialogue, since that really kickstarts a scene so that I’m not held up so much in description.
Tagging @luzial, @pedlimwen, @noire-pandora (no pressure as always!)
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hidden-otaku-stuff · 4 years ago
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Cornerstone (song-fic request)
Tw: drinking, cursing, inarizaki match spoilers
Word count: 1.4k
Pairing: Osamu x reader
Genre: angst with fluff ending
AN: hey anon!  You didn’t specify if you wanted angst or fluff, so I decided to do an angsty story with a fluff ending :’) ugh i’m so sorry that this took so long!! I struggled so hard to write this 🥺
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“‘Samu, I’m sorry.”
Osamu kicked the dirt, shaking his head as he stared at his feet. “S’not your fault. I know you don’t wanna.”
You stood there, wearing your thick fall coat that he had gotten you years ago, a suitcase by your side. “I love you.” 
Osamu’s heart cracked. You had been together for over a year now, having gotten together shortly after the first year began. So why? Why couldn’t you stay? 
“I love you too.”
*****
“‘Samu, you gotta stop moping!” 
“‘M not mopin’,” Osamu scowled, glaring at his brother. They had just been knocked out of the second round. God, and they were the favorites to win? What a joke. “You’re mopin’, ‘Tsumu.”
Atsumu shrugged, a fake smile plastered onto his face. “It was my fault anyways.”
Osamu rolled his eyes. “Maybe we shouldn’t have played around so much.” The twins walked down the exhibition hall when Osamu stopped short. “(N-Name)?” He stutters, feet moving faster than his mind could process. 
“Can I help you?” The girl turned around, tilting her head as her brow furrowed. Osamu released his grip on her red jacket, shaking his head.
“Sorry, you just looked like someone I know.”
“You’re Osamu, right? The wing-spiker of the infamous Miya twins?” 
“That’s right.” 
“I’m sorry to hear what happened. Karasuno’s a tough team, aren’t they?’
Osamu’s nose wrinkled. “Yeah.”
“Oh, sorry! I’m Sakura, I’m Nekoma’s manager.” She adjusted her bag. “They’re our destined rivals, y’know?” 
Nekoma? He had never heard of the team before. Had they even been to Nationals before?  
He shook his head, Sakura had kept talking. “Anyways, if you’re free, I’d love to show you around Tokyo? We can go grab a bite to eat or something.”
“Yeah, sure.” Osamu mumbled. He definitely didn’t want to hang around the stadium, especially since they were no longer playing. 
“Great!” She grinned. “Here’s my number. How does 6 sound?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” 
Osamu absentmindedly entered the number into his phone. “Bye (Name).” He spun on his heels, heading back to the rest of his team.
“(Name)?” Sakura muttered, brows furrowed before shrugging. She was sure it wasn’t anything too serious. Unfortunately, that was a false hope because as soon as he had seen Sakura later that evening waiting outside his hotel, he had greeted her with (Name).
Sakura forced her lips into a smile, nodding stiffly as she nodded towards the bus. Over and over again, he called her (Name). “Oh, (Name), I think you’d like that! Let’s try that next, shall we?” as he pointed to a crepe place only to turn back and see Sakura instead. “Oh, sorry Sakura.” 
“That’s fine.” Her throat constricted. “Hey, Osamu.”
“Yes (Name)?” He looked up only to see her wincing. “I’m sorry, Sakura.” His head hung as he huffed, warm air blowing out of his nostrils.
“You must really care about this (Name) person huh?” Osamu shrugged. “Let’s just cancel this, shall we?” Tears pricked at her eyes as she swallowed. “I wouldn’t want to take you away from anyone.”
Before he could open his mouth to protest, she had already spun on her heels and disappeared down the street. “Fuck.” 
*****
“Hey ‘Samu.”
“Hey Suna.” Osamu plopped down at the lunch-table, scanning the group. “Odd question.”
Suna eyed the male over his bento before nodding slowly. “Shoot.”
“Heard from (Name) recently?”
Suna let out a soft sigh. “When are you gonna let her go, ‘Samu? She’s been gone for a year now. If you haven’t heard from her now, I don’t think you ever will.”
Osamu shrugged, an acrid taste in his mouth. “Can’t hurt to hope.”
“Hope for what?” Atsumu plopped down beside him, Ginjima on his other side. Ginjima tilted his head, waiting patiently for a response.
“Idiot is still hung-up over (Name),” Suna rolled his eyes causing Atsumu to scoff and roll his eyes. 
Osamu ignored his twin, looking at the Ginjima as hope bubbled in his heart. “Have you heard from her?”  
“Can’t say that I have, sorry ‘Samu.”
“It’s fine,” Osamu muttered, silver eyes cast to his meal. Though he had prepared his lunch, it tasted bad. Bland. Like his life had been ever since you left. He sighed again. Atsumu slammed his chopsticks down.
“That’s it.”
Startled, Osamu looked up at his twin. “‘Tsumu, what the -”
“You cannot stay sad over someone who didn’t even make the effort to stay in touch with her!” Atsumu growled, glaring at his twin. 
“Whoa, calm down, Atsumu,” Ginjima grabbed Atsumu’s shoulder, only for the male to shake him off.
“You’re so busy asking us about her and thinking that every girl you see is her, but have you even texted her yet?” 
Osamu swallowed, mouth dry. “She changed her number,” he mumbled. “That’s why I can’t get into contact with her.” 
“Oh.” 
*****
“Congratulations!” The glow of the massive fire was the only light on this cold March evening. The burn of alcohol stung Osamu’s throat as he took another swig. It was the annual graduation bonfire. All the third years had been invited, alcohol supplied by students with older siblings. He swung his head around, finding a familiar visage sitting on a bench by the fire. 
The haze of the beer clouded his judgment as he stumbled towards the body, grabbing it and pulling her face to his lips. Loud cheers and hoots filled the air at the sudden embrace. Irritation filled his body. There was no way he wanted to share his reunion with (Name) with a bunch of drunk idiots. Dragging the girl away towards the trees, he pressed her body into the tree as he captured her lips with his once more.
“(Name),” Osamu groans, bringing her closer to his body. 
Crack.
“Not a chance, Miya.” She spat before whirling around and storming off. Osamu blinked in his daze, hand cupping his cheek. All signs of his inebriation gone. That most definitely had not been you. He remained silent, slumping against the tree and sliding onto the ground. He buries his face into his arms, the well of tears spilling over as his body trembles. Why? Why can’t he get you out of his mind? 
*****
“Dude! You need to stop sulking,” Atsumu entered the room, walloping Osamu with a pillow and causing the silver-haired male to huff in anger. 
“What the fuck, Tsumu?” He snarled, throwing his phone beside him. 
Atsumu eyed the phone, unimpressed at what was on the screen as he snatched it up. “You still have these pictures of her?” He rolled his eyes, waving the phone out of Osamu’s reach. “She never reached out to you, and even if you wanted to, you can’t reach out to her, so why are you still hanging on? What hope do you have for this?” 
“I love her, Tsumu, what else do I need?” Osamu retorted, chewing on his bottom lip as his heart dropped. He loved you, he still did. No matter how many times he’s tried to be with someone else, taken someone else on a date, his mind always wanders back to you. It wasn’t his fault. After all, how could he throw away the year you two had been in a relationship after 4 years of pining after one another? 
*****
Osamu yawned, foot tapping anxiously as he waited for the light to change. He was in Tokyo, visiting prospective campuses. He hadn’t decided yet on which university he wanted to go to, and his parents had convinced him to visit Tokyo to see if he wanted to try the city-life. A flash of familiar (h/c) hair filled his vision. 
“(Name)?” He croaked, abandoning his post by the traffic light to sprint in your direction. You turned into a park, lost in thought until a sudden shout of your name had you turning back. 
“Samu!” 
“(Name)!” His body slammed into you, cradling your body into his. “You-You’re really here!” His fingers anxiously dug into your hips, praying that this wasn’t some type of illusion. “Is that really you? Can I still call you that?”
You smile softly, eyes prickling. “You can call me whatever you like, ‘Samu. It’s me.” 
His grip tightens around you as he buries his face into your hair. “I’m never letting you go again,” he breathed, tears dripping down his face.
Wetness met his shoulder as you buried your face into his shoulder, nails digging into his back. “Me either.”
*****
AN: again, my song-fic requests are closed, so please do not request any song-fics! thank you~
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aurorahoneybuns · 5 years ago
Text
Save Him
Save Him
Word Count: 1496
Warnings: Angst, Major character death
Reader x Todoroki
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It seemed like last week was a million years away. You’d both been having breakfast, strawberry cream cheese crepes over Shoto's traditional mackerel, miso soup, and rice. Somehow you had conned him into making your sinfully sweet breakfast that morning. You’d both been laughing as he had cream cheese smeared across his cheek. You remembered the blush on his cheeks as you licked it up. And how he tossed you over his shoulders so effortlessly. The love and joy of that moment…
But now?
As you walked up to your door you noticed it was slightly open. Thats odd, Sho must’ve not noticed it when he came home today. Thinking nothing of it, the pushed your way into your shared home. Upon entering the site almost dropped you to your knees. The living room was covered in ice, and the kitchen in ash. Shoto’s quirks. How else would the house have become like this? Your mind started running at a thousand miles a minute. Then you noticed the blood all around. Smeared on the counter, droplets littering the hall. Where was he? Was he okay? Are they still here? You dropped your things reaching for the bat you kept in the coat closet. You were thankful that you had your sister’s quirk in opposite. You were able to make things have a heavier gravity, making them heavier and still being able to wield them no matter the increase. It made you feel like Thor and his hammer. If any villains lingered you’d be more than capable of taking them. 
After checking each room, it seemed the whole apartment was cleared. Then the door behind you creaked open, you held the bat ready to strike. As the figure entered the room you swung giving the bat a crushing gravity. With a loud- THUNK!- you rushed to the persons side, only to see it was Ground Zero that laid on the floor clutching his side.
“Oi you fuck!!! What the fuck do you think you’re doing!? Trying to kill me?! What are you even doing here?” He looked up at your face, seeing the fear behind your eyes. He quickly stood up looking over you to make sure you were okay. 
“I- I just came home… Everything was destroyed.” The words barely a whisper from your lips. You dropped the bat and allowed yourself to crumple into him. You started sobbing. He wasn’t here. You had no idea where he could have been. Your sobs grew louder and louder. Two more bodies entered the room you were in. Both Red Riot and Deku,  the other pro Heros that worked with Sho and your brother-in-law. Their gazes on you as you broke down. Deku whispered into Ground Zero’s ear as he held you.
“She’s his fiancé Kacchan… She’s Uraraka’s sister. The hero Earthbound? She doesn’t know what’s happened yet. Here, let me taker her in.” He motioned for your weeping form and Ground Zero let out a sigh as he guided you towards Deku. You relished in the familiarity of his smell, since your sister always smelled the same. It brought comfort into your broken soul.
You let him pick you up to take you outside, where police and a few other Heros were steadily working the scene of your home. 
Everything was moving around you in a slow blur. You watched as people moved in and out of your home. Carrying items that had burned, frozen, and bloody. You could only hope that your love was okay. 
They’d taken you to the agency that they all worked at. 
“Y/n!! Are you okay? Are you hurt?! What happened out there?!!? Why are you here?! Wheres Todoroki?!”Uchan crashing into you. You couldn’t even hear her words, just snuggled into her frantic form. You couldn’t hear her questioning Izukuchan, or even the questions directed at you. You just wanted to melt away in her warmth. It reminded you of snuggling into Shoto’s warmth. 
“Uraraka! Stop for a minute! She’s in shock… she won’t answer anyone. She’s closed off right now. She hasn’t spoken since Kacchan found her. She’s shaking so bad Uchan… Todoroki… He’s gone… there was damage all over, and blood too. I think they were right to warn us… but they should have warned us to be careful for ourselves, not just our significant others. Maybe they used her to get to him. The LoV tends to sink that low…” He turned towards, eyes searching for answers. 
“Used me…?” Your eyes focused and you looked between them both. “How..? I thought they had Toga under lock and key! How could they have used me?” You were angry now as you shoved away from Izuku and Uraraka. You glared daggers at him as a fresh set of tears streamed down your face.
“Oi! Deku! We gotta go! They found the location they’re holding the half and half bastard! Let’s go bring him home!” Ground Zero bellowed to the man beside you. You whipped around, composing yourself.
“I’m going too! I need to bring him home.” You tore yourself from their combined grips.
“You can’t go too! You’re not stable enough to go out into the field.” Your sister voiced, heavy with concern.
“Well if its my fault then I’ll be the one to bring him home” snapping back at her. In that moment you didn’t care if you were being rude. You just want Shouto home.
“Hell are we leaving or what? I don’t fucking care who comes as long as we hurry this up! My kids are at home waiting and their mom is going to pop any day now!” Ground Zero barked at the group.
“I’m coming” You responded as you walked past to follow the angry blonde to where ever he was leaving to.
You’d changed into your hero costume along the way. Thankfully it was dark and similar in color to the night. Helped you to camouflage into the background easier. After entering into the abandoned warehouse, you promptly took out two men with your hammer. They were down before they knew what hit them. For added benefit you touched their clothes making them weigh enough to stop any grown man. Ground Zero took out 3 more along the pathway to the large empty room. You looked around at the adjoining rooms, only one more light on. Hopefully that was the room.
As you peaked inside your heart broke. 
There he was, your love looking worn and beat down. His hands were tied with quirk canceling cuffs, and they were hooked to a meat hook. It left him dangling from the ceiling. Bruises littered his body. There was a gag stuffed in his mouth. His cheek was broken and bleeding, there were cuts covering his abdomen. And a nasty gash on his thigh. Your poor love. Anger bubbled inside of you and it took everything within you to stop from screaming out. You inched closer, hoping to not startle him. His eyes slowly blinked at you, until they fully opened. He looked up at you with love and sadness. As you untied him and held him he relaxed into your chest. 
“I’m gonna bring you home, okay? It’s gonna be okay.” Tears fell from your e/c orbs and he weakly wiped one away. He was in awe of your strength and in awe of your tenacity. 
Explosions sounded behind you and a shout from Ground Zero. You picked him up, carrying him out to see what was going on. Another fire quirk, blue flames dancing around the room, and a girl stood beside the tall man with dark hair.
“And where do you think you’re taking our prize?” His voice was smokey and dark. It sent chills down your spine.  Ground Zero rushed at them explosions letting loose. The girl beside him rushed you raking her nails against your chest. Blood seeped from your ripped costume as you fell to the floor.
“Whoopsie! Did I getcha doll? Sorry, everyone always tells me to keep my fingers to myself. But I think you should stay put. Don’t you?” The girls voice was sickeningly sweet. “I don’t now how much toxin you were exposed to, but we’ll find out here shortly.” Your heart dropped. How could this happen? You’d gotten so close to rescuing him. You looked over at the man who laid on the ground next to you. His eyes opened searching for warmth in your own. There wasn’t any to be found. Your body started to grow colder. You felt your heart slowing. It was getting harder to breathe. 
“Y/n. I love you. I will always love you. Stay awake. Please stay with me…” His voice filled with sadness. You willed your eyes to stay open, failing to do so when the world faded into blackness. His cries were fading out farther and farther away. Using the last of your strength to whisper out to him.
“I love you too.”
Wow okay, anon I'm so sorry for breaking your heart. I broke mine too. Gonna go sad cry somewhere. I think I should probably write a follow up to this.
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thethoughtsfromthreeam · 5 years ago
Text
Sunshine
Pairing: Maxwell Lord x OC (Evelyn “Evie” Blaker)
Warnings: Smut
A/N: Enjoy the smut because angst is coming.  I didn’t plan on it originally, but damn if it didn’t make sense to the story line.  Ugh, angst, you bastard.
Reminder:  I ain’t ever seen Pedro Pascal in FUCK ALL, I’m just coming up with this as I go along, using imdb.com, wiki, and 84,000 tabs I got open to plan out this shit.  I also write soft versions of his characters so if you’re craving asshole vibes, I ain’t got any but my own to offer.
Tags:  @zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @beskars​ , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder, @lavenderl3mons , @pascalisthepunkest , @mandoandyodito​ , @randomness501 , @fioccodineveautunnale  
[PART 1]  [PART 2]  [PART 3]  [PART 4]  [PART 5]
Part 6 
That Let You Fly High
“Evie!”  Maxwell’s voice rang through the house as he walked in the door, dropping his briefcase by the hall table and hanging his coat on the rack.  He was humming with a smile on his face.  He was taking two days off and that, plus the weekend, meant he had four whole days of Evie to himself.  His secretary asked several times if he was feeling okay and he was so blissed out on the thought, he couldn’t even pretend to be mad.
Evie herself was in the kitchen, looking out at the beautiful fall day and enjoying some hot chocolate.  Marnie had gone home early for the evening and she was lost in thought when she heard Maxwell’s voice calling her.  Something about the situation made her think of I Love Lucy and for a moment she felt like a fifties sitcom housewife.  She giggled at such a silly thought, but it wormed its way further in her brain and something about it felt right.
Before she let herself dwell on the idea, she walked out in the dining room and met him halfway, both wearing matching grins.  He walked up to her and leaned down to kiss her, her lips tasting of chocolate and whipped cream.  He thought her natural sweetness was better.  They kissed softly, a series of pecks on the lips that spoke of affection and hints of love where their tongues could not.  Not yet anyway.
“Hello Max.”  They pulled away and he took her mug and set it on the table.  He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she leaned into him. He looked down into her face, that warmth he had grown to love seemed to crawl even deeper into his soul.
“I got a call from a friend of mine, Eric, inviting me to a fundraiser tomorrow.  I think it’s for the botanical gardens or something.  Anyway, I agreed and I’m taking you with me.  I think we deserve a fancy night on the town to kick off our weekend.”  He noticed a frown growing between her eyebrows.
“I didn’t come prepared for a fancy party though.”  She was already taking mental inventory of what she would need. “I’d have to go shopping.”
“I figured, so we’ll just go shopping”
“We?”  Her tone had an amused tone to it, and he grinned.
“Yeah.  We’ll go tomorrow, do a little shopping, get some lunch.  You know, make a day of it.”
“You’ll go shopping with me.”  Her amused tone growing with each word until she got the giggles.  He raised an eyebrow, trying to look mean but absolutely failing.
“Watching you trying on gowns? Why would I miss that?”  His voice turned husky and she surprised herself by blushing under his look.  A gleam glinted in his eye and she turned away from him, heat creeping across her body.  He dropped a warm kiss to the back of her neck before leaving the room, knowing he left her body humming for him.  His grin spread across his face.
---***---
Waincotters Boutique was one of those high-end parlor-style dress stores that in any other case Evie would have bypassed for a Nordstrom’s or Bloomingdale’s.  She felt a little out of place with her jeans and tee shirt when she saw the way the salesgirls were dressed.  Maxwell held her hand and he could feel the shivers as her nerves began to get to the better of her.  He squeezed a little and glanced down at her.  Its fine, the squeeze told her.
“Maxwell!  So good to see you again!  And who do we have with us today?”  A sprightly woman with a greying bob cut smiled at the couple.  The woman was entirely welcoming, and Evie felt a little more at ease under her kind eyes.  They were whisked away to a private room with a comfortable sitting area and a small platform with mirrors.
“I’m Susanne and I’ll be helping you find the perfect dress for tonight’s event.”  The woman sat down with them and another came through the door with snacks and drinks and set them on the table before leaving the three alone again.  “What kind of event is it?”
“Formal wear, not quite black tie.”  Maxwell had called Eric to get more information and that was all he was told. “Not cocktail as far as I know.”
“Perfect.  Now Miss. . .”
“Evie.”
“Miss Evie.”  Susanne smiled again and took Evie’s hands into her own, the skin warm and comforting.
“Tell me what you like in a dress.  Sleeves?  No sleeves? Slit?  Silk? Crepe?  Color?  Cut? Style?  Shape? Length? Train?  No train? Neckline?”  The questions were almost overwhelming to her and Evie took a deep breath.  Susanne smiled and patted her hand, recognizing that look of too much information on the fiery blonde’s face.
“How about this, let’s start with something easy.  What color do you like to wear?”
“Oh purples!”  Evie sounded excited for the first time since everything started.  “I love purples, but dark ones like plum.”
“Great!”  Susanne wrote somethings down and continued to asked questions like sizes and height.  “Let me pull a variety and let you try them on and then we’ll narrow it down.”
Evie nodded and soon a dozen dresses in ranging from a deep plum to a royal purple in all different styles were hanging in front of her.  While she didn’t have a full affinity for fashion, she did love quality clothing.  Most people thought her outfits for work were staid, but the fabrics were rich, and quality made.  Even her jeans and tee shirts were well fitted and everything she wore was tailored as needed.  Being able to pick out a fancy gown was like being handed a gift, almost heavenly.
As she glanced down at the price tag, though, her eyes bugged out and she snapped her head around to look at Maxwell.  He started laughing, choking on his drink in the process.  He still laughed as he wiped his pants off.
“MAX!”  She hissed. “This dress is almost $7,000! I can’t afford this!”  She put the dress back on the rack as if it were on fire.
“You’re not, I’m buying it.”
“Oh no you’re not.  We’re leaving and going to Saks or something.”  She stepped off the platform to grab her purse when he shot his hand out to stop her.
“Evie.  Stop worrying about it.  I’m buying you a dress, it’s no big deal.”
“I can’t let you spend $7,000 on me!”  Her voice rose with every word until the last one came out as a squeak. “That’s outrageous, it’s too expensive. THAT’S SEVEN GRAND!”
“Evie, please calm down for one second.”  Maxwell looked her in the eyes, an amused and almost loving look to them. “I care about you finding a dress you love and that you’ll want to show off tonight.  I want you to feel good.  Price is of no matter to me.  And if I thought it was, do you think I would have brought you here in the first place?”
She stopped and seemed to calm down somewhat, her face still red as she looked at the first dress she had pulled off the rack.
“Well, you got me there.”
“I know.  Now ignore the price tags, find what makes you feel beautiful and its yours.”
“I never had anyone spend so much money on me.”  Her tone was low, not meaning for him to hear her.  It was almost obscene how much he was willing to spend, and she felt a little guilty.  Kind of how she felt guilty asking to order a second dessert on their first date.  Quality she was willing to spend money on, but boy, $7,000 was way too rich for her decidedly middle-class tastes.
“I suppose it would be crass to say that you’ve never had anyone with my level of wealth buying things for you.”  He smiled as she giggled.
“That’s true.”  She walked back over to the dresses and ran her fingers across them, feeling silk and crepe and a jersey so soft a baby could have been swaddled in it.  And they were her favorite color. . .  She turned around.
“Are you staying here while I try them on?”
“That was the goal.”  Again, his voice turned slightly husky and a small smirk grew on her lips.  As he sat down, she turned and walked over to the door, head poking out, she asked for a pair of heels in her size and muttered something to the salesgirl.  She stepped back into the room and closed the door, locking it behind her.
Maxwell had settled back into his seat, taking off his jacket and rolling up his cuffs.  He popped a cracker into his mouth, not really paying attention to Evie as she stepped back onto the platform.  She faced away from him and pulling out a hair tie, she swept her long locks into a bun. When she could see Maxwell looking at her, she dropped her hands to the hem of her shirt.
Capturing Maxwell’s eyes, she held his gaze as she slowly raised her shirt, exposing the skin of her stomach inch by inch.  She ran her hands up and across her breasts as she continued to pull up the fabric, her yellow bra peeking out from under the shirt. He swallowed, but her face remained stoic.
She grabbed the hem of her shirt and whipped it over her head, dropping it on the floor.  She stood there a moment before bringing her hand to the button of her jeans.  She popped the button as she toed off her flats.  She could see the bulge growing in Maxwell’s pants and his eyes were darkening.  She unzipped her pants and pushed them off her hips.  She bent over and thrusted her ass out in his direction as she pushed them off her legs.  From where he sat, he could see the crotch of her panties darkening as Evie became more and more turned on.
Evie remained bent over, slightly turning her head and she saw that Maxwell had loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves.  Those forearms of his, the crisp blond hairs glistening in the overhead lights, something about his strong forearms sent shockwaves of pleasure to the very center of her.  She slowly stood up and stepped out of the puddle of denim at her feet, kicking it off to the side.  A low groan came from behind her as she stood there in just her underthings.  She paused until he looked her in the eye, and she bowed her head slightly.
Reaching up, she unhooked her bra’s front clasp and the fabric gaped, her breasts spilling out and her nipples playing peek-a-boo with the lace edges. She saw Maxwell shift behind her, his bulge now clearly visible in the mirror’s reflection.  She could his hands gripping the arms of the chair, knuckles almost white.  She threw him a sultry smile as she dragged her fingertips from her chin down the front of her neck to the middle of her chest.  
She let her hands rest there before fanning out her fingers and lightly running them across her breasts, moving the bra off them and exposing her harden nipples to the cooler air of the dressing room.  She could hear Maxwell’s heavy breathing growing more rapid as he watched her actions in the mirrors.  Evie kept moving her hands, pealing the yellow material off her body and let it drop behind her.  She threw Maxwell a coquettish look in the mirror as she brought her hands back to her breasts.
She spread her hands until her flesh was covered, and she could feel the hard nub of her nipples against her palms.  She lolled her head downward, keeping a steady gaze with Maxwell, who was practically vibrating with want.  Her fingers were soft against her skin and slowly she dragged them until her fingertips were against her nipples.  He watched as she flicked her wrists and twisted the taunt flesh and her moan went straight to his cock.
The ripples of pleasure in her breasts were making her clit feel needy and her hips jerked forward, pulsating for a touch.  Her body slightly bowed into herself and her mouth dropped open although no sound came out.  Evie tried to maintain eye contact with Maxwell, but the pleasure was so overwhelming that she closed her eyes, chasing the edges of her climax.  She continued to tweak her nipples, her body straining for her clit to be touched.
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and she dropped her hands, brushing them over her clothed mound.  She could feel her panties growing damper with each passing moment and she unconsciously rubbed her thighs together.  Suddenly, she turned around, facing her audience for the first time since she locked the door.
“Max.  Come here.” He didn’t need to be told twice, he was out of his chair and in one long stride, he stood in front of her.  The dark pools of his lustful eyes drew her in, and she threw him a sultry look.  “Take off my panties.”
He groaned as he dropped to his knees, looking at up at her.  Maxwell felt like he was on fire.  The minute he saw the skin of her stomach, he was lost. The more she exposed, the harder he became, and he desperately wanted to fuck her senseless.  His entire body itched to feel her skin, his tongue wanted to explore the slit he knew was soaked, and he cock ached for her.  He brought his hands to her hips and he could see them shaking in anticipation.  This woman is undoing him, a small voice inside him said.  And we fucking love it, replied the roaring lust consuming him.
He hooked his fingers underneath her silky boy shorts, the shape framing out her hips and ass beautifully.  With a slow tug, they were dragged down her legs and the smoothness of the silk created flames of heat along her skin, felt long after he tossed the scrap of fabric to the side.  Every inch of her felt like she was on fire the minute Maxwell touched her.  She looked down at him and he could barely see the golden brown he’d come to love – the pupils blown out so wide her eyes were black, and he felt as if they were sucking him in.
“Touch me.”  Her voice was a raspy whisper and Evie felt that if he didn’t, she just might die.  Thankfully for her, he obliged, and their eyes remained locked as Maxwell slowly dragged his large hands up her legs, letting just his fingertips skitter across her thighs.  Her body bowed again, and the quiet moan came from deep in her chest.  Her eyes nearly fluttered shut, but she stopped herself so she could look at him in front of her, eyes full of supplication and want.  She had brough the great and powerful Maxwell Lord to his knees and the very thought made her feel hedonistic.  She brought her hands up to his shoulders, giving her something solid to hold onto as she began to float away on a river of pleasure.
Maxwell ghosted his hand around her left thigh before grabbing it and lifting her leg.  He hooked it over his shoulder, and he brought his hands to her hips.  Tipping them slightly, he brought his mouth to her slit and flattened his tongue, dragging it through her folds before resting on her clit.  Her whole body shuttered, and she moaned at the sensation.  Her hands moved up to grip his hair, giving her the balance she needed to stay upright.
Her tugs on his hair sent pleasure directly to his cock and his own hips jerked forward.  He smiled against her before licking her again, focusing on her clit with every pass through. When her thighs began to shake with her building orgasm, he brought his hand down and sunk two fingers deep into her heat.  She gasped his name at the sensation and the feral feeling in his chest grew.  This woman’s pleasure was his and his alone and he was going to take it.
Evie’s eyes fluttered shut and her body continued to tremble at the overwhelming sensations she was experiencing and her grip on him grew tighter. His eyes, despite their lust, were full of adoration for her and she never felt as cherished in such a position as she did now.  Something bloomed deep inside of her, something behind the lust that wrapped its ghostly fingers around her heart.
“Max, I’m going to come.”  She whispered it, trying to keep the noise down as to not arouse suspicion from the salesgirls.  He nodded as he continued to pump his hand into her, and he zeroed in his tongue on her clit.  Soon the familiar coils in her stomach reached their breaking point and she gritted her teeth as she came, the strangled cry sounding hoarse.  He withdrew his fingers but kept licking her clit until he felt her pulling his head away from her.
Her skin was flushed, and her body kept trembling against him, her chest heaving with exertion.  He could tell she was barely standing upright, she always lost control of her body when she came.  Knowing that he brought her to such highs felt like the best drug he could take.  Every pant, every groan – he was able to draw those from her and he almost was addicted to it.  
He brought his hands to her hips and leaned back onto his heels.  He had to have her, and his hand dropped to his crotch.  Maxwell unzipped his pants, pulling his rock-hard cock out, precum practically dripping out of him in a continuous stream.  He palmed himself, stroking a few times to spread his own slickness along with hers. He found himself struggling not to go any further.
“Sit on my lap, Evie.  I need you on me.”  His voice sounded desperate, a vibration that resonated with her.  They fucked several times since she arrived in the city, but something about this time seemed different and she felt as if she would die if she didn’t feel him inside of her.  She dropped to her knees, straddling his lap as he grabbed the base of his cock.  She slowly lowered herself onto him and her breath stuttered out of her lungs as she felt him fill her.  When he was buried to the hilt, Evie briefly thought that Maxwell was touching her very soul and she wasn’t sure where they each began and ended.
She dropped her head onto his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. Even though he was fully dressed, the heat of his skin seemed to burn Evie and in turn Maxwell felt as if no clothes were between then at all.  His own arms wrapped themselves around her waist, his face buried into her neck.  He took a deep breath and the warm scent that was so uniquely hers filled his lungs and hazed his mind.
They sat like that for several long minutes, just savoring the moment. On that platform, in the dressing room, something changed between them fundamentally.  The touches, the comments, the thoughts, the looks, the sensations had been building, the belief that everything just felt right to them converged in that shared moment.  The squeeze on Maxwell’s heart was vice-like and he could feel tears prickling under his lids.  He shifted his hips and he touched something in her that caused her to gasp into his shoulder, almost watery sounding, as if Evie had tears of her own.
She lifted herself before dropping back down onto his cock and Evie shuttered as the pressure in her lower belly began to spark again.  He was sensitive and every movement, no matter how small, was sending out ripples of pleasure through his whole body.  The next time she lifted her hips, he drove into her and her moan was right in his ear.  It was so loud to him and he moaned in response.  Soon they caught a rhythm in that same pattern, their pace soft and slow at first but as the rise of their shared climax began to consume them both, things began to feel more desperate.
Evie raised her head off Maxwell’s shoulder, biting her lip to stay quiet, but she felt compelled to look him in the eye as she came.  He pulled his own head out of her neck and he brought his hand up to brush the tendrils of hair that had escaped her bun and stuck to her face. They stared at each other as their pace continued to increase and their bellies felt on fire – the one that consumes you until you are nothing but ash, waiting for rebirth at the apex of pleasure.
His hips were snapping into her and she gave into him, wanting to come desperately.  He knew exactly when she did, even before her walls clamped down on him, he could see it in her eyes.  She bit her lips to conceal her scream, a strangled sound replacing it instead and he drove into her one last time before coming himself.  He was always quiet, but he found himself tamping down a strangled cry of his own.  They bowed into each other, as if they could crawl inside the other and never leave.
He slowly withdrew from her and she slid off his lap with a less than graceful thump on the platform, legs slightly splayed out.  He could see their mixed come glistening between her legs and his breath caught for a moment.  She laughed and he did, too.  He leaned into her and kissed her gently on the lips before getting up and heading to the small bathroom.  He came back with a towel, his cock back in his pants, although the damp spot she created on the front of them would have been hard to hide had it not been for his jacket.
He gently cleaned her up, stealing kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her neck, - wherever he could touch her, and she responded in kind.  The smile on his face was gentle and loving and hers was, well, it was always like that and he relished it as usual.  Once she was cleaned up, she put her panties and bra back on.
“You going to watch me try on dresses?”  She asked again and he nodded as he helped her up.  He went to sit back down and observed her as she pulled dresses and put them back, trying to get a feel for everything.  But every time, she came back to a dark purple silky jersey dress, one that seemed perfect to her.
Reminiscent of Hilary Swank’s 2004 Oscar dress, Evie noted that it had a high back and a boat neckline, but was fitted, with ruching along the waist that would accent her shape beautifully.  She always preferred to be covered, and as she ran her fingers along the gown, the silk felt heavenly.  For a brief second, her brain flashed an image of said silk wrapped around Maxwell’s cock.  Her smirk was nearly hard to hide.
She looked at Maxwell, who was looking at his phone and not paying attention to her.  She snagged it off the hanger and went back onto the platform.  She stepped into the heels and slipped the dress on.  She looked at the ceiling and said a silent thank you.  It fit and with three-inch heels, the dress gently brushed the ground.  She felt divine and based on Maxwell’s whistle, looked it too.
“Evie, you look. . .”  He waved his hands at her.  “Fucking hot.”
She laughed and turned around, giving a T-pose perfected by years on the pageant circuit as a college student.  Her hands sat on her hips and the way she twisted her torso, her breasts looked round and perfect.  Despite just having fucked her, Maxwell desired to fuck her again.
“Sold.  This is it.”
“You want the shoes, too?”
“God no, these things hurt like hell and I’ve only had them on for five minutes.  We’ll find another pair elsewhere.”  He nodded as she stripped out of the dress and got her clothes back on.  She put the dress back on the hanger and draped it gently over her arm before turning back to Maxwell.
“I feel bad, we didn’t eat anything they set out.”
“Eh, we found something better.”  She laughed and swatted at his arm.  He grabbed her purse for her, and they left the room.  Susanne was waiting for them when they exited and was excited to see that Evie found the dress that she wanted.  They talked more as the purchase was rang up.  The two left the shop and slid into the waiting car, Bennett’s cheery hellos a welcome sight.
“Look at that, found the perfect dress and saved you money.” She looked at him with a grin.  The price for this dress had only been $2,000.  She was still appalled that anyone was spending that amount on her, but she could stomach that figure over $7,000 any day of the week.
“The perfect woman,” He smiled at her and leaned down to whisper, “especially in bed.”
She grew red at his comment but couldn’t stop the giggles that bubbled up in her throat.  The day had been perfect, and she was in heaven.
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monards · 9 months ago
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Evil mode activated 😈😈
Also since we really don't know how Albedo's changed over time... I like to think that he does age,,, just much slower... So eventually Rhine would have to watch her son grow older than her and then die:)
The mean wolf told me to give her abandonment issues and then take everyone away from her
AUGHHUHASUDHOOOOOOPOJAIPC JSPPPP III DONNTNTN KNOW HOW OT VOICE MY CRIES THOROUGH TEXT. BUT THEY ARE THERE. AUHGUOASUOOOOOOOOOOOO THHHE WORST PART ABOUT THIS IS THAT IT'S MORE OR LESS CANON. FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
OUhghhhh... I tthink it's always gonna be important to me how it's such an essential part in a lot of stories for character's to watch their parents grow up as they do... and them becoming 'stronger' then them,, (like being taller, keener, more mentally well-kept) but the idea of albedo getting that for such a small bit of time.. before eventually devolving again (as comes with age). Dear god.
Assuming Albedo's been gone for a decent margin of time, that'd mean he would've grown a decent amount... buuttt that'd also mean whenever he meets Rhine she's just gonna be. the same. it reminds me of how you never notice your parents age as you grow upp,, and it's sort of a major part of you to realize that they *have* changed, when you're older. but albedo will never get that moment. because rhine's always gonna be the sameee..... OUGH I will always be sick to the trope of children finally being taller than their parents if anybody can tell where that fixation came from ill give you a sticker annnd the worst part about this is that if albedo goes by basic aging conventions, he would technically be taller then her at some point, but then he'd start shrinking again. meaning one day he'd be shorter than her again . And oh my god would that be so fucked up.
i think one of the worst parts about this is the fact that Rhinedottir (if we're going by whatever hoyo's more likely to pull) would've been a young women during the cataclysm. Meaning she'd be a young women now. And Albedo's a youngman. Meaning Albedo would be (physically) more or less his mother's age. Ough hh ghp ijIAIGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I. I am starting to understand why Rhine coped shockingly well with all her sons dying by murder. I too would be incapacitated by grief if my son died by growing OLDER than me and dying naturally, then if it were for a reason largely out of my hands. oh my god.
anon. i hope you enjoy my tears.
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namluve · 5 years ago
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chapter 1: soul twins
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It seemed like fate was not on either of your sides that night as the shooting star passed right above the both of you when you both unintentionally wished your wish. Fate decided to play a trick.
paring: Min Yoongi x Reader
genre: body swap!AU, rapper Agust D, a lot of crack! and funny moments (lowkey comedy with angst)  
warnings: reader not feeling like herself (because of the body swap), self-consciousness, anxiety
word count: 4K
note: one day I thought “what if I woke up in yoongi’s girlfriends body” and this is the result! 
prev | index | next
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Waking up you felt refreshed as the sun creped through the window. Since you drank quite heavily last night you thought you would wake up with a hangover but, once again, fate was on your side you thought. As you lazily opened your eyes you would not really recognize where you were. It was a bedroom with grey walls and big windows with a balcony. You remembered you had gotten home last night so why were you in someone else’s bedroom? You sat up, panic rushing over you and you heard someone grunt on the other side of the bed.
“What time is it?” The person next to you asked and you looked at him. It was the rapper Agust D. Confused you looked at the clock on the nightstand and replied to him.
“9 am” Grunting he took his arm around your body and pulled you close to him.
“Let’s sleep just a little more” With that you closed your eyes, realizing it was a dream. You thought you saw Min Yoongi at the restaurant last night so that must be the reason you were dreaming of him. He was so warm and comforting you could not help but to scoot closer to him and embrace him. If it was all a dream you could at least get as much out of it as possible, right?
The next time you woke up you found yourself surprised to still be in the same bed, but this time without Min Yoongi. Maybe you went home to someone last night after all? Maybe that person weirdly looked like him? Sitting up you stretched your arms up and let out a yawn. You needed to figure out how to get out of the house as quickly as possible. Your eyes began searching the floor for your clothes, but they were nowhere to be seen. All you had on you was a satin pyjama’s that you did not recognize as you looked down. The more you looked at yourself, the more you didn’t recognize your body. Your arms felt longer, hips smaller, thighs not quite the same. A perfect tan on your body. Your hair was long and black. You had to find a mirror you thought to yourself. Standing up you made your way over to the mirror in the corner in the room. What you saw shocked you. You were not you, although you weirdly recognized the person in front of you, it was not you. Panicked you tried to find any clothes you could change to and get out of here. You heard singing further away, outside of the bedroom and you started panicking even more. Were you going absolutely insane?
Opening the wardrobe, you found a sweater among many dresses and a pair of jeans and decided to go with that. In a drawer you found underwear and you quickly changed into everything. Looking yourself in the mirror one last time, not recognizing your face or body one bit you took a deep breath closing your eyes. Someone must have drugged you last night, right? All you were doing right now was hallucinating. So, all you had to do was get home.
Walking outside the bedroom you got out in a hall, doors left and right and at the end of it was a kitchen where the humming and singing came from. You tried to sneak closer as quiet as possible. As soon as you stepped inside the kitchen you saw him. Min Yoongi, cooking pancakes on the stove. You stayed still for a while just watching him. Confused and slightly panicked he would find you as an intruder or anything. Did he drug you last night? Is he just a part of your hallucination? I mean, you did see him with the bed with you earlier. As he turned around, he smiled at you.
“Good morning sunshine” Looking at him confused you soon realized he was referring to you. Okay you though, at least you were not an uninvited guest.
“Why do you look so blue? Come on, sit down and have some pancakes that I made for us” He went over to you and took your hand in his, dragging you towards the kitchen table. Pulling out a chair for you, you hesitantly sat down on it. If this was a serial killer situation you knew it was best to comply to whatever they wanted you to do. That way, you would live longer. Oh God, what if you were drugged, kidnapped and was about to be killed? On the inside you were panicking, on the outside you gave him a weak smile as he put down a plate of pancakes for you. He sat down in front of you with his own plate and started pouring maple syrup on his pancakes, once he was done you took it and poured some on yours.
“Since when do you eat maple syrup?” He asked and once again you looked at him confused. You always had maple syrup on your pancakes.
“I always have it on my pancakes” He chuckled at your response and dug into his plate.
“I see, we are sarcastic this morning. I did not know that when you said you were changing that it included your diet” Diet? What diet, you thought to yourself. Picking up the fork you started eating the pancakes in silence with him. Would he be mad if you asked any questions? Is that the reason you would be killed? Because you asked way too many questions?
“Bora!” Looking up at him you realized he probably was referring to you, although that was not really your name, so you did not get why he was calling you that. Under your breath you said ‘yes’, afraid that speaking up would get you into any trouble.  
“You seem really distracted, is everything alright?” Your eyes meet his and you thought his eyes looked genuine, like he cared about you.
“I’m okay” Replying you realized you did not recognize your own voice. Panicking you thought it was at least worth a shoot to try and get out of the apartment.
“Is it okay if I go?” You asked quietly and he looked at you confused. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you had probably royally fucked up right now.
“Yeah of course, do you have something to take care of before we are supposed to go to the gala?” Barely understanding anything you just nodded in order to get out of the situation and got up from the chair. You saw the door behind you, taking a coat that somewhat looked like one you owned you placed your feet in a pair of sneakers that was on a racket. As you placed your hand on the doorknob you heard his voice behind you.
“Wait!” Turning around you saw Min Yoongi with a scarf that he began to wrap around your neck.
“There!” He said happy with his result and you could not help but to smile back at his gummy smile.
“I must say, I like the new you so far. You look so soft” Placing his hands on your face he pulled you in for a peak kiss on the lips. Shocked you blushed slightly and smiled looking down.
“I’ll be waiting for you when you get home”
“Okay” You replied and opened the door, stepping out of the apartment. What was all of that? You thought as you closed the door. Looking around you saw a few more apartment doors and an elevator on your left. Going over to it you pressed the button and waited for it to come. Thinking about all of it you realized you must have been home at Min Yoongi’s house. Agust D, the rappers house. Why were you there though and why could you not recognize your body or anything really for that matter? Why did he treat you as if you had known each other for years? Nothing made sense. As you stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to get to the entrance you realized you were on the fourth floor of many. Letting out a sigh of relive as the elevator closed you started planning your way back home where everything would be normal again.
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Stepping out of the elevator you looked around and it almost looked like a hotel lobby, where the hell were you? The staff around the lobby smiled at you and you smiled back. Once you saw the exist doors you hurried your way over. As you opened them you could hear two voices arguing outside, one sounding familiar to you. When you looked over to your right you saw her, talking to one of the staff members. No, not her, you. You saw yourself talking to one of the staff members. When the two of you locked eyes with each other she pointed at you.
“There she is! Ask her!” The staff member turned around and they both walked over to you.
“I’m sorry to bother you miss. Tallway, do you happen to know this young woman? She claims to know you” The elderly man asks you and you look over to yourself, seeing yourself nodding your head.
“Yes” You replied, and you saw yourself making a hand motion going round and round, as if you were supposed to continue talking. This is weird.
“I know her, she is a friend of mine” You saw yourself smiling at you and the elderly man bowed at you.
“Then I won’t be bothering you ladies, have fun” With that he walked away. You stared at yourself, or should you say, the human that looked identical to you in front of you. She stared right back at you, looking at you up and down.
“I normally would never wear that but it’s kind of cute” She suddenly said, and something clicked inside you. You were inside her body, and she was inside yours. The two of you must have switched souls or something? Fuck, what did they do in the movies? How did the daughter and mother turn back in that one movie?
“We need to talk”
“Obviously” She replied with a duh face, did you really look like that when you pulled that face you thought.
“Let’s go over to the coffee shop nearby” You followed her lead and the two of you began walking over two the other side of the street.
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Sitting down at the coffee shop you saw her, or should you say yourself, sit down and get comfortable in the chair opposite of yours. Looking around there were not too many guests at the shop, probably why she suggested it. Although, nobody would probably believe the conversation you were about to have.
“So… obviously… somehow… we have switched body’s” She began saying and you nodded.
“The question is… why? Did you do it?” You scoff as she asks you. Does she think you are some sort of witch or something?
“How would I even do it?!”
“I don’t know, that’s what I am asking you!”
“Okay, this is leading nowhere, what do we do about it?” Puzzled at your question she thinks for a while before answering.
“I think we should pretend to be each other until we figure out how to switch back” Reasonable you thought. The waitress came with the coffee the two of you had ordered and placed the cups in front of you. Both of you said quietly ‘thank you’ before continuing your conversation.
“We need to figure out how to switch back as soon as possible. Maybe this is all just for a day?” You suggested and she nodded. God you hoped this was all just for a day.
“Yes, we don’t know anything about this really and I could not find much research on it either”
“You have been researching this?” Impressed and confused you ask, and she smiles proudly.
“Yep, either this is some sort of day spell, a curse or just the gods messing with us for a laugh” She smiles, or should you say, you smile, and you could not help but to smile back. You did not look that bad, actually, if anything, suddenly you felt kind of cute seeing you in this way. Not in front of a mirror or on a picture but in real life.
“Should we hope this is just a day thing and everything goes back tomorrow?” You ask and she shrugs. All this time you had been watching yourself you realized she reacted so much more than you normally would, and it was weird. Seeing yourself from a whole other angle, in a whole different way. So careless and reactive when all you tried to be was as normal and quiet as possible.
“I guess we could, but we should prepare for the worst, although, I must say, I’m not really hating this” Looking at her questionable you ask ‘why’ and the girl in front of you replied.
“My boyfriend has been a real dick lately, so this is kind of a break from him to me” Suddenly you remember the man you woke up next to today, the one cooking breakfast for you, the none other than Min Yoongi.
“August D is your boyfriend?” Scoffing, she rolled her eyes as if you should have already figured that out before sipping on her coffee and casually asking her next question.
“Yeah, how was he this morning? Oh God, did you do anything to him?!” Eyes wide open you stared at her, waving your hands in front of you in a defending motion.
“How could you even ask that?! Of course I didn’t! I thought he had kidnapped me!” Puzzled, she looked at you and you saw how she made a disgusted face at your statement and you could not help but once again think, did you really look like that?
“Why would a world-famous rapper kidnap a common girl when he has a model, fashion icon, stunning girlfriend next to him?” She was so full of herself you thought. You should have figured some of this out when you saw her wardrobe being the opposite of what you usually wear and the fact that she had picked out the most revealing outfit you had in your wardrobe this morning.
“I don’t know! It’s not like I had figured out we had switched bodies back then!” Having to defend yourself once again, you realized this conversation was not going anywhere. The two of you needed a solid plan. She just said ‘whatever’ before sipping on her coffee and leaning back against her chair.
“Anyway, I’m Bora. Keep that in mind when you are pretending to be me, especially since I have an important dinner later” So that was probably what Yoongi meant by that he would be waiting for me.
“What kind of dinner?” You asked, wanting to know as much as possible about the dinner you had to attend.
“Celebrating Yoongi’s new album, it is released today” Your mouth made an ‘oh’ shape and Bora continued.
“So, we should probably get you a new dress so you, we, look the part” Nodding, the both of you began small talking. Bora told you important things you should know when you are pretending to be her. She hates wine, but loves champagne, so everything even close to wine was a big no. Always extend your hand when meeting new people as they tend to kiss your hand at these events, or shake it, either way, you put it on your mind to extend your hand. For Bora’s friends, always kiss them once on each cheek and hug them lightly. She could not have stressed this enough. Bora did not tightly hug anybody, that even included Yoongi. Hugging was not her thing at all, you had to tell her it was yours. If she meets your friends, she had to hug them as if she had not seen them for a year. Every time. Luckily for Bora, you had made no plans this weekend. Unluckily for you, Bora had made plans the entire weekend and most of next week. She was a clothing making goddess with god knows how many Instagram followers, oh, and you had to update her Instagram. You had to write a cheesy quote and post a picture of yourself and later on, you had to congratulate Yoongi on the album on Instagram. What a day this was going to be.
Shopping dresses turned out to be harder than you thought, especially since Bora had something to say about each and every one of them. To slim, to lose, to long, to short, to shiny, not shiny enough and the list would go on.
“This one looks nice” Looking at yourself in the mirror you saw how the dress hung Bora’s body perfectly. Oh, what you would do to have a body like hers, look this good in a dress.
“Next” Rolling your eyes, you went into the dressing room once again. Trying the next dress Bora had picked. Ten dresses later and you found one Bora was happy with. Finally, you thought but before you could leave the shop you saw Bora taking a dress and walk into the dressing room with it. Confused, you sat and waited for her to come out. The two of you had already agreed you would go alone as she had no invitation to the dinner. When Bora came out of the dressing room all you could do was to stare. She had chosen a simple dark blue dress but somehow it fitted your body perfectly. Never had you ever worn a dress like that.
“I’m so buying this for you, it looks killer” She said as she twirled around in the dress in front of the mirror, looking at every angle of the dress. It was a maxi dress that was cut by the left leg, showing of the leg all the way to the thighs. A v-cut by the neck that showed just enough boobs. This was way too much, you would not let her do that for you.
“You can’t do that” As the words left your mouth she turned around. The dress looked so good.
“I can and I will” She confidently spoke before continuing. “You don’t have any dresses like these at home, trust me, I went though your whole wardrobe”
“You did what”
“Trust me, it’s my treat. You’ll look killer on your next date”
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Once the both of you had bought dresses time had passed way to fast and it was time for you to get ready for the party. Bora wrote her own number in your phone once she got to know your password from you. Giving out your phone to her just like that gave you anxiety you never even knew you could feel. In the meantime, Bora was just Bora. Confident, unbothered by every obstacle the two of you faced, like if you were supposed to switch phones or not. If this was only for a day you had to hold out. Had to make it. Maybe it was all a test for you. To step up and see the world of the richest people, well you could at least hope. Hope that tomorrow you would wake up in your bed. Safe and sound doing your laundry in the afternoon.
“Are we going with warm or cold tones today?” Bora’s makeup artist woke you up from your thoughts.
“Warm please” She nodded and continued putting makeup on your face. It was calming, nice to have someone do your makeup. Once she was done with your makeup and hair, your anxiety started to kick in. What if you could not fool everyone? What if people would notice? Even if they did, Bora assured you that they would believe it is just the alcohol talking and you tried your best to try and remember that. If anything, they would just believe she is drunk. After taking pictures and sending them to Bora, she picked out the one she liked the most and you posted it, hundreds of likes coming in just after a few seconds, you understood why she had notifications turned off on her phone. As you took a deep breath you heard her phone chime. Weird, she did not have any social media notifications on. Unlocking her phone, you saw that it was a text from Yoongi.
[03:21 PM] Mini Yoon ❤️
-          Picking u up in 20
So, you had twenty minutes to spare before Yoongi would pick you up. Might as well listen to his new album so you would not make a fool of yourself. Bora probably heard it about a hundred times by now. Opening up Spotify on Boras phone and putting in some earphones you searched for Agust D’s name and his new album popped up immediately. It had seven tracks and you listened to each and everyone of them, the title track really sticking with you. You loved the low beat in the beginning turning into a faster one in the first verse when Yoongi started rapping even faster than on his previous tracks. Of course, you had listened to his songs before. You liked his music and one of your friends absolutely adored him. This whole album was going to be so successful. You could feel it. A man knocked on your door, announcing your ride to the dinner was here and you walked out of Yoongi’s apartment, taking the elevator to the bottom floor. As you walked out of the apartment complex that looked like a hotel you saw a black car parked at front with a driver with toned windows at the back. The man who had picked you up from the room opened one of the backseat doors and you smiled, bowing slightly at him. Showing your gratitude before getting in. To your disappointment, Yoongi was not in the backseat with you. He was nowhere to be seen and you realized he was probably already at the dinner. So much for waiting for me, you thought. As the car started you heard your phone chime.
[03:48 PM] Soul Twin 🌙
-          You’ll do great, I believe in you!
Laughing at the non-suspicious name you and Bora had picked out for each other you smiled at Bora’s reassuring text. She believed in you, now all you had to do was believe in you too.
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The car ride over to the dinner was way to short, how were you supposed to collect your thoughts if you only had fifteen minutes to do so? As you stepped out of the car you realized Bora had forgotten to mention the freaking red carpet you had to walk on into the dinner. Cameras was suddenly on you everywhere, shouting her name. Bora look here! Bora, Bora! How does it all feel? BORA! Trying to smile and wave for a bit, working your way over the carpet, desperately trying not to fall because Bora had to choose the hardest freaking high heels to walk in ever. Placing a big fake smile on your face as you do so you drop it immediately the second you enter the fancy building, looking like an expensive ballroom house. Letting out a breath you did not even know you held, you gladly accepted a glass of champagne from the tray of alcohol that was being presented to you. The waitress smiling at you as you took a sip and you smiled back at her before she left into the crowd. As you looked right in front of you, you saw him. In a black casual suit, his hair as white as his smile as he smiled and waved for you to come over. Fuck, you thought. You had almost forgot you had to spend the evening with Yoongi. Stunning, handsome Yoongi who was waving you over to come and join the conversation he was having. Fuck it, finishing your glass of champagne in one go you started to walk over to Yoongi. You just had to make it through the night, right?
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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years ago
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got any good domestic johnlock fic recs??
Hi Nonny! 
YES!! I certainly do! I love domestic Johnlock! Done lots of lists in the past, so check out the additional lists, and I’ll update those lists with these latest ones I’ve sorted!
DOMESTIC JOHNLOCK Pt. 4
See also:
Platonics and Domestics
Platonics & Domestics Pt 2 / Hugs, Cuddles & Kisses Pt. 3 / Tooth-Rotting Fluff Pt. 4 / Love Confessions, Slow Burn & Dev. Rel. Pt. 2 / Established Relationship Pt. 3
Platonics / Bromance / Friendship Pt. 3
When Morning Comes by Youarethelightoftheworld (T, 423 w. || Christmas Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Lazy Mornings/Morning After, Fluff and Angst, Sleepy Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Cuddling / Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort) – “Sherlock,” says John solemnly, “I’m not sure we can go anywhere today.”
Promises Kept by grannysknitting (K+, 844 w. || John POV, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship / Pre-Slash, Sherlock’s Violin, Worried Sherlock, John Whump, Post-TGG) – When they were in hospital, Sherlock made a promise to himself. Now he’s keeping it. Set after ’Polygamous Marriage’ but before ’Back in the Saddle’
Realisation by Susie.Donym (K+, 957 w. || Sally POV, Pre-Slash / Friendship, Humour) – It takes her a while but Sally finally makes a huge realisation.
Like Any Other Day by wearitcounts (T, 1,145 w. || Fluff, John’s Birthday, John Loves Sherlock, Sweet / Thoughtful Sherlock) – Just when John thought Sherlock couldn’t get any more strange…
Together is What we Have, Together Protects Us by Phantom of the Black Pearl (K+, 1,566 w. || Post-TRF, Friendship / Platonic or Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Sherlock, Worried Sherlock, Slice of Life) – After a case one evening in the flat Sherlock voices a concern that causes the pair to consider why they’ve chosen to stick together after all that’s happened.
Like Euphoria and Scotch by FinAmour (M, 1,856 w. || Five and One, Alchohol / Drinking, POV Second Person Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock’s Imagination, Armchair Sex, Fluff, Happy Ending) – 5 different ways it all could have gone + the one way it actually works itself out.
One in Ten Thousand by Blind Author (K+, 1,856 w. || Post-TGG, Friendship / Pre-Slash, Discussions of Violence, Worried then Curious Sherlock, Scars/John’s Bullet Wound, Medical Anomolies) – John seems to have unusual mobility for a shoulder wound…
The Adventure of the Mysterious Appearance of Tissues by Gwen’s Blue Box (K+, 1,910 w. || Fluff, Humour, Sick John, Caring Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort) – In which there is a case, John has caught a cold and is not interested in investigating, Mrs Hudson is away and Sherlock does the shopping.
The Case of the Missing Blogger by nicknack22 (K, 2,147 w. || Fluff, Humour, Friendship, Worried / Anxious Sherlock) – Alternately titled, The Case of the Oblivious Consulting Detective. In which Sherlock comes out of his mind palace to discover John missing. 221B does not fair well as a result.
Risotto by Richefic (K+, 2,153 w. || Friendship, Angst, Misunderstandings, Apologies) – The first time that John cooks dinner for Sherlock is almost the last. Fortunately, Sherlock is really quite observant. Inspired by John’s reference in “The Great Game” to there being some leftover risotto in the fridge.
The Many Faces of Concern by sdrawkcabemdaer5 (K+, 2,473 w. || Friendship, Angsty Fluff, John Whump, Mildly Clueless Sherlock) – John is injured on a case, leading to some surprising reactions and discoveries about their friendship.
Bored Games by patster223 (K+, 2,769 w. || Cluedo / Board Games, Friendship, Humour) – Sherlock is bored and John decides that they should play Cluedo. In retrospect, it was a truly awful decision.
The Rational Machine by Solstice Zero (K, 2,924 w. || Hurt / Comfort, Malnourishment / Fainting, Doctor / Minder John) – Sherlock passes out. John muses on the reasons why. Containing an absorbing case, two bags of shopping, and a few apples.
On a Sunday Morning by SD_Ryan (G, 3,136 w. || Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock has a little problem. He can’t stop obsessing about John Watson. {{Note to Self: ‘Cheese Tease’}}
Wish I Was In Heaven Sitting Down by standbygo (M, 3,282 w. || Post-S4, Five Plus One, Missing Scenes, Parenthood, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Declarations of Love, Fluff, Food, John Whump) – Five times when Sherlock and John ate together, and one time they didn’t. A history of the boys, in food.
The Bee Charmer by dreadpiratewatson (M, 3,314 w. || Est. Rel., Captain / Soldier John, Idiots in Love, Domestics, John in the Army) – Greg goes to 221B to check up on Sherlock after a strange phone call pulls him away from an important case, and is stunned to find himself in front of a gun brandishing soldier with a sleeping Sherlock on his chest. John Watson is a doctor, a war hero, a husband, and the only one in the world who can soften Sherlock’s heart.
Bored Games by SparksMayFly (K, 3,492 w. || Humour, Friendship, Cluedo / Board Games, Big Brother Mycroft) – Sherlock asks if he can take Reverend Green in for interrogation. John explains that’s not how the game works.
Every Step of the Way by Shi_Toyu (G, 3,795 w. || Car Accidents, John Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash, Caretaker Sherlock) – When John is injured on a case, Sherlock can’t forgive himself. Everyone expects him to give up on his flatmate and get bored, but he’ll prove them all wrong by sticking with him…every step of the way.
Five Times John Cooked Something with Peas and One First Kiss by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (T, 3,915 w. || 5 and Ones, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Cooking / Food, Sick Sherlock, Music, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss) – After John cooks five dinners that slowly reveal their hunger for each other, Sherlock and John finally share a first kiss.
Jukebox by standbygo (T, 3,990 w. || Fluff, Singing/Music, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Humour, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss) – After the music halls of Sherlock’s mind palace get damaged by accident, John learns that Sherlock never forgets a song. Even the ones he’d rather forget. But the random singalong brings some unexpected benefits.
No Good Without You by textsandscones (T, 4,021 w. || Case Fic, Sherlock’s Violin, Dancing, Soppy Fluff) – A diverting new case surrounding musicians and stolen instruments captures Sherlock’s attention, the consequences of which lead both detective and doctor to see one another in a different light. Part 1 of Prompt Fills
Breakfast, acronyms and brotherhood by Rose de Sharon (K+, 4,074 w. || TBB Fic, Friendship/Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, Fluff) – Set after The Blind Banker: my take of Sherlock and John’s conversation over breakfast. S/J friendship, bromance, no slash.
The Care and Keeping of Your Mad Genius by Janieshi (T, 4,553 w. || Post-TGG, Friendship, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Light Humour/Teasing, Alternating POV, Cranky Sherlock) – If he hadn’t been so focused on holding the bastard still, John would have laughed aloud. This maniac really thought John was the pet in this dynamic?
Welcome Home, John by slashscribe (G, 5,504 w. || Post-S3, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Awkwardness, Stabbed Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Panic Attack (Sherlock), Self Esteem Issues, Love Confessions, First Kiss) – When John moves back to 221B, he thinks he’s the broken one, but after a while, it becomes clear that he might not be correct.
Of Razors, Pipes, Red Notebooks and Rugby Jerseys, Or: Sherlock Doesn’t Like His Doctors Clean Shaven by allonsys_girl (E, 7,313 w. || Est. Rel., PWP / Porn With Feelings, John’s Beard / Beard Kink, Roleplay, Love Declarations, Banter, Rimming, Anal, Domestic Fluff / Bliss, Idiots in Love, Emotional Lovemaking, Pet Names, Obsessive Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Bottomlock, Cranky Sherlock) – John grows a beard. Sherlock really likes it. Part 1 of Consulting Husbands
On Favors and Keeping Score by Ewebie (G, 7,622 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Fluff, John Whump) –  John woke up to the horribly unpleasant sound of his clock alarm. Which meant he’d slept through his phone’s alarm. And for a moment he glared blearily at the noisemaker before smacking at it with his palm. Ugh, he felt like rubbish. The back of his throat was burning with the irritation that heralded a proper dose, his nose was threatening to drip every few seconds, and he had the uncomfortable flush that normally suggested a fever. Nothing high, just uncomfortable. Nothing deadly, just irritating. Nothing worth calling in sick with, just a full day of discomfort in the face of other people’s discomfort. It was going to be a day where he was forced to bite his tongue from telling people off. “You’re not as sick as I am, so off you pop.” Part 7 of Tumblr Shorts
Speak My Language by Itsallfine (T, 7,479 w. || Thanksgiving, Love Languages, Love Confessions, First Kiss) – When Mrs. Hudson introduces John and Sherlock to the concept of the five love languages, Sherlock descends into a dark mood and John’s curiosity gets the better of him. What is Sherlock’s love language, and why does the whole concept set him so on edge? Part 1 of A Holiday Triptych
The Name Game by ItsClydeBitches221B (K, 8,958 w. || Humour, Family, Platonics / Friendship, Sort-of Parentlock, John/Mary, Mary is Nice, Five and Ones, Baby Watson, Mycroft Loves Baby Watson) – The names that baby girl Watson comes up with for her extended family. Or: how everyone—Watsons, Holmes, and others alike— just learned to give up and embrace their weirdness.
How To Give Your Boyfriend Who Doesn’t Know He’s Your Boyfriend the Best Valentine’s Day Ever byunicornpoe (T, 9,832 w. || Valentine’s Day, Fluff and Crack, Soft Sherlock, POV Sherlock) – Sherlock is pretty sure that John Watson is his boyfriend. He’s also pretty sure that John doesn’t know it. But with a little help from a magazine, some friends, three crepes, five dates, one awesome CD, and a stalker van, John is bound to realize just in time for Valentine’s Day.
A Is For Aftermath by ElvendorkInfinity (T, 10,567 w. || Injury / Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Pre-Slash/Bromance/Platonics, Hallucinations, Introspection, Insecure / Worried John, Big Brother Mycroft, Alternating POV, Anxious Sherlock, Self-Deprecating, Mildly Possessive Sherlock, 3G Moment) – John is still hallucinating, Sherlock cannot sleep, and Lestrade has a new case for them. But will life at 221B ever be able to return to normal? Epilogue to M is for Moriarty.
Shuteye Shenanigans by Ayakae (K+, 13,263 w. || Post-TRF, Friendship / Epic Bromance, John’s Nightmares, Angsty Fluff, Bed Sharing, Humour, Cuddles, Taking Care of Each Other, Domestics) – John Watson has never slept with Sherlock Holmes. Never ever ever. And never will, thank you very much. Well, there was that one time, but John didn’t count that. It was completely different, just like the second time it happened. And the third. And the fourth. Epic bromance, but it can be read as pre-slash if you wish.
Hope for Heroes by Richefic (K+, 16,887 w. || Post-TGG Fic, Introspection / Flashbacks, Friendship/Epic Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Worried/Anxious Sherlock, Sherlock Admires John, BAMF John, John Deduces, Fancy Party, John’s Self Esteem, Domestics) – In the final moments of “The Great Game” Holmes hopes he will have the chance to tell his flatmate that he was wrong. Heroes do exist after all and the one in front of him is called Dr John Watson.
Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b (E, 20,004 w. || Retirement, Sussex, Bees, Home Improvement, First Time, Romance) – Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing. They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you’re living to find the life you want. Part 1 of Through The Clouds
Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. “You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie’s class and you won’t have to share a room with a stranger?” “Exactly.” Sherlock beamed at him. “Don’t worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us.”
The Book of Silence by SilentAuror (E, 60,056 w. || S4 Fix It / Post S4, Virgin Sherlock, Rosie / Parentlock, Domesticity, Fluff, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, First Person POV) – As spring blooms in London, John and Sherlock begin to take new cases and cautiously negotiate this new phase of life with John living at Baker Street again. Despite how well it’s all going, John struggles to forgive himself for the way he treated Sherlock following Mary’s death as well as trying to figure out how to finally put his long-time feelings for Sherlock into words. Part 1 of The Book of Silence/Rosa Felicia
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makeste · 6 years ago
Text
BnHA Chapter 169: Shut Up and Dance
Previously on BnHA: Aoyama creeped on Deku in the middle of the fucking night. A petrified Deku went to take a closer look only to find that Aoyama had left a weird “I KNOW~~” message spelled out on his balcony with fucking cheese. The next day in Cementoss’s class the kids resumed working on special moves. Deku got all brooding and thought about how he couldn’t beat Overhaul even with his absolute max of 20%. Then Aoyama got his attention and carved a possibly-suspicious-or-maybe-just-weird French message into a chunk of rock with his navel laser before collapsing in pain. Deku took Aoyama to rest for a bit and asked him what the cheese message meant. Aoyama said that Deku was like him -- someone who possessed a quirk that didn’t really suit his body. Aoyama himself is unable to control his navel laser without the aid of his support belt. He saw Deku as a kindred spirit and was trying to cheer him up since he knew he was starting to feel frustrated. And thus a new sparkly bond of friendship was born.
Today on BnHA: The kids randomly discuss how great Mina is at dancing and how great Jirou is at music stuff. Later that day, in a pure coincidence, Aizawa announces the upcoming cultural festival. Despite the recent string of villain attacks, the school has decided to go ahead with it as a way to hopefully help the stressed-out student body. 1-A gets to work determining what program their class will do, with people suggesting everything from petting zoos to cafes to “a banquet for students of darkness.” Momo and Iida narrow down everyone’s ridiculous suggestions, but they’re unable to settle on a final program, and Aizawa gives them one day to figure it out. That evening the kids gather in the fanfic dorms and Iida says they should come up with something that will help the other students de-stress. Todoroki of all people suggests that they host a dance party with live music. Jirou is a bit nervous about performing in front of everyone, but with her classmates’ support she agrees to do it. Let the Band AU arc begin.
(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 195 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)
OH MY GOD YOU GUYS LOOK AT THIS!?!?
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THIS IS MY FAVORITE COLOR PAGE EVER OMG
holy shit, I fucking love it. the colors! the (possibly unintentional) Wicked reference! MY LEADING LADY OCHAKO
and it looks like she’s wearing some of Mei’s gear. are we going to see any of these upgrades in her actual costume, or is this all just for the sake of a pretty cover? ah well, either way I love it
AND!!!
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CULTURE FESTIVAL OMGGGGGG
lord I can’t even begin to imagine what a U.A. culture festival might be like. somehow I can’t quite picture them doing the typical cafe theme lol
oh my god you guys
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MINA BREAKDANCING. 
you guys. ever since she got a bunch of bullies to dance with her in the middle of Kirishima’s flashback I’ve been wanting more of this lol
Deku is analyzing her moves, and it’s only just now occurred to me that this might be part of a new technique of hers and not just her spontaneously breaking out into a dance battle in the middle of the locker room
(ETA: nope just dancing. Mina is the best you guys)
lol now Deku says he wants to try and Mina’s volunteering to show him!
YESSSSSSSSS
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NOW GET IIDA. HE NEEDS TO BE IN ON THIS. OH MY GOD. YOU GUYS. IT’S HAPPENINGGGGG
(ETA: this arc is a gift in so many ways)
oh hey Kaminari is casually hyping up Jirou’s hobby without any prompting!
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is he trying to embarrass her or does he genuinely think it’s cool? OR MAYBE BOTH. WHY NOT. I REALLY DO SHIP THE SHIT OUT OF THIS DAMN TRIO NOW, DON’T I
he’s saying that her bedroom looked like “a music store” that one time they all went to see it
and he looks genuinely impressed, so I think it’s not teasing at all and he does in fact really think it’s cool
he says she must be a music pro and he’s asking how often she practices
and she’s getting all blushy and threatening him with one of her earjacks lol
he seems confused d’aww
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(ETA: nice little bit with Kouda here which is followed up on later when he encourages her to perform and says it’s a skill well suited for a hero. I adore this sweet little friendship they have since taking that final exam together.)
she’s just shy, the way that some people are about the parts of themselves that are really personal. that means it’s really important to her and she’s maybe not fully ready to share it just yet
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
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SO I HEARD
the class is losing their minds
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IS IT SO FUCKING WRONG TO HAVE AT LEAST ONE NORMAL SCHOOL THING JESUS CHRIST. WE JUST SAT THROUGH FORTY CHAPTERS OF ANGST AND CHILD TORTURE. LET ME HAVE THIS, CHILDREN
!!
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AIZAWA SHOUTA DID YOU REALLY ACTUALLY ADOPT THIS LITTLE GIRL OMG. PLEASE SAY YES. OMGGGGG
take her to the festival. let her come visit. omg. I will die of joy if that happens
(ETA: I did, in fact, die of joy)
so now the class is trying to figure out what to do
Kirishima is asking if it’s really okay “for us to be so carefree” at this particular juncture
Kiri were you not listening to a word I just fucking said. YES. y’all need to fucking relax for once in your damn lives
Kaminari is SHOCKED and is all “Kirishima you’ve changed, huh?”
but Kiri says it’s a valid concern though with all the villains running amok right now
Aizawa says that’s a fair point, but U.A. doesn’t revolve solely around the department of heroics
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look at this Department of Management asshole acting like he’s going to get as big of a role in the series as Shinsou or Mei. haha you wish buddy
Aizawa says that this year’s festival will be made less public though, and will only occur within the school
well, good. honestly if y’all tried to pull more shit like the sports festival again at this juncture I would be raising some eyebrows, believe me
so they’re going to be deciding on their theme today! yaaaaay omgg
I’m going to take a wild guess here and predict that it will be something music related. since we had breakdancing Mina and music prodigy Jirou earlier. and also I’m really going to be needing that dancing Iida, you guys. I’m not kidding. we need to get on that stat
so finally Iida is taking charge, and tbh he was being remarkably restrained up till this point because I was expecting him to do this much earlier
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he’s telling everyone to raise their hands if they have a suggestion
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this class is full of passion
naturally the first suggestion is of course the classic
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maybe if this was EVERY ANIME EVER. but this is BnHA! we can do better guys, come on!!
and we’ll just ignore Mineta
Ochako is suggesting a mochi shop! oh! I’m remembering that new years illustration now and I would love that tbh. but I don’t think that’s what we’re gonna end up with
look at all of these other ideas though
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I love the idea of crepes and I’m already sad that they won’t end up going with that
Kouda’s idea is also amazing. and Kiri’s is super original
and Tokoyami’s I first read as “banquet of students” and I thought, that’s odd. I know he’s goth but I didn’t think he’d be out here suggesting cannibalism
but based on Kami’s stare, yeah, I’m pretty sure we’re gonna end up doing the music thing. CLASS 1-A DISCO. U.A. RAVE. AW YIHHH
wow
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can you guys pick out which suggestion was Bakugou’s. it’s pretty easy tbh. study hall duhhhhhh
I actually love that the ideas we didn’t actually see can be so easily traced back to their originators. Deku’s hero quiz. Shouto’s soba house. Tsuyu’s “frog music chorus”, whatever that is. Ojiro’s martial arts performance. and so forth
Momo is now ruthlessly putting an end to the charade of diplomacy and erasing the ones that are “inappropriate or unrealistic” and “the ones that I don’t really understand” lmao
now the kids are getting back at the two reps by shooting down their own suggestions
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and she’s combining the food themes into one, over Satou and Shouto’s protests that soba and crepes would “clash”
now things are getting out of hand
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aaand the bell is ringing
Aizawa’s walking out and telling them all to make a decision by tomorrow morning
omg
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oh damn
so now it’s nighttime in the fanfic dorms and 40-year-old Iida Tenya is in his relaxed business casual clothes watching youtube videos
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I guess the rest of the gang must be here even though we’re not seeing them yet, because there are speech bubbles talking
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I swear to god that boy really does go to bed at eight fucking pm every damn night. but why, though?? does he lie awake broodingly into the wee hours of the morning? does he go to bed early in order to wake up at the asscrack of dawn to work out? or does he just need the extra sleep because he’s a growing boy who runs at full steam shouting and blowing things up all day long and it’s just exhausting to be him? like, all three of these seem plausible to me lol
and then of course there’s the beloved fandom headcanon of him having PTSD and dealing with lots of nightmares too, and while we have really seen nothing in canon to hint at that, I’m obviously not going to dismiss any theory with that much Bakugou angst potential completely out of hand lol
but I think it’s probably the second and third one mostly tbh
as for the intern group, are they taking supplementary classes to make up for what they missed while they were out interning? that really is a lot of work, huh. no wonder the school decided to put an end to those for now
anyway, so Iida says that now that he’s had more time to think about it, he thinks they should come up with a theme that would assist the other departments in letting off some steam since they’re stressed out
that’s actually so thoughtful and pure
so Momo (at least I think it’s her?) is saying that in that case, they shouldn’t bother with a food theme since the U.A. kids are already accustomed to Lunch Rush’s food and it’s really hard to top that
so now they’ve narrowed it down to just a few options
they’re shooting down the petting zoo as “unsanitary”, wow. wow guys. so you don’t think that getting a bunch of cute baby animals for everyone to pet would help them to de-stress, huh. kay. I see how it is
oh my god
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of all the people to end up suggesting this idea, he’s honestly the last person I would have expected
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YESSSSSS U.A. UP IN THE CLUB
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why is he the cutesttttt
LMAO
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IT’S NOT LIKE THAT BUT I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS SUGAR MAN
oh my god. I will take this thought bubble of Bakugou and Todo getting lit in the club and I will keep it in my heart forever
Sero is objecting that it’ll be stressful (for them), but Mina says she can teach them all how to dance
LMAO AGAIN
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yes look at him he has clearly mastered it
Mineta is now stepping in and saying that if they’re gonna turn class 1-A into New York’s Hottest Club then they’re gonna need some sick beats
AND NOW EVERYONE IS STARING AT YOU KNOW WHO
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BRITNEY, BITCH
lol she’s going red again and is all “uh, what?”
Hagakure’s jumping in with the encouragement!
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YESSSS YOU CAN DO IT JIROU YOU ROCK
but she’s getting all shy again and says it’s just a hobby
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and now Kaminari’s having a flash of insight!
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COME ON KAMI THIS IS YOUR MOMENT
YESSSS
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god I ship it. he’s just so genuinely nice and encouraging. class A’s dumbest, sweetest boy
and now Kouda is also running over and says that it’s a skill that can put a smile on people’s faces and for that reason he does think it’s heroic
AND NOW HER GIRLFRIEND MOMO IS STEPPING IN PROTECTIVELY AND TELLING THEM THAT’S VERY NICE OF THEM, BUT AT THE END OF THE DAY IT’S JIROU’S DECISION
god this chapter is MomoJirouKami heaven and I’m on cloud fucking nine
YAAAAAY SHE’S GONNA DO IT
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not if you don’t want to, I guess? though ngl that would be amazing
so with that, class A’s program is decided!
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um. is this supposed to be important to the plot? who tf is this
(ETA: lol it both is and it isn’t. it’s relevant to the arc, but this arc is probably the least plot relevant in the series. though that doesn’t mean it’s not a complete and utter delight)
anyway! WHOOO HOOOO, SHUT UP AND DANCE WITH ME
I have no idea which bonus page goes with this chapter lol. so I’m just gonna skip it for now
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thorne93 · 6 years ago
Text
It Was Written In Song (Part 6)
Prompt: (from request) Reader is a singer, who happens to be friends with Tony Stark. One night, she gains inspiration from someone she never expected to get it from – Loki.
Word Count: 1337
Warnings: language, dashes of angst throughout the fic
Notes: Request from @abigailredgrave​. Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​… all rights to songs used belong to Twenty-One Pilots
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
London, Paris, Auckland New Zealand, New Orleans, Tokyo, and Berlin. Six cities. Endless memories. Three months of nothing but discovering the world together.
If there was paradise, or heaven, this was it. Touring the world with Loki, showing someone who knew nothing about Earth everything. You learned along the way too, going to museums, learning about historians, artists, writers, poets, politicians. Loki peppered you with questions wherever you went, and you answered to the best of your ability. What you couldn’t answer, you googled or asked guides.
He kept you warm by offering you his coat in drizzling London. Atop a restaurant in Paris, you two shared crepes, overlooking the city, then taking it in at night. You showed him cemeteries and how death, as well as life, was celebrated in New Orleans. Berlin offered its Brandenburg Gate to you, which reminded Loki of home in a way, with its magnificence. Scuba diving in Auckland felt like an underwater oasis. Tokyo was the most strange to Loki, but he still enjoyed it, mainly the food. Part of it was awful, driving around the city with so many potholes. It made you partially angry.
You’d been to most of the cities before, but you very rarely ever got out and experienced them because you didn’t want to be alone. Now that you had Loki, it was amazing. Some of the time you were imparting your knowledge on him, the other times, the two of you were learning something together for the first time and it felt like the two of you had gotten closer than ever before.
By now you even slept in the same hotel room, crashing on separate beds because you stayed up late talking so much. He loved to watch you write lyrics or songs when the mood struck, sometimes he even helped rearrange a few words here or there or offer a different word. You loved having him nearby for inspiration.
You were the artist, he was your muse.
Before you were ready to say goodbye, the tour was over. This was it, it was the end of the line. You offered Loki to tour with you, but past that, there wasn’t much you two could do. You didn’t live near New York so you couldn’t see him all that often and you weren’t sure if you could or should invite him to your home city.
So now, you had to part ways, and it was killing you. Your last night in your last city.
“What will you do next?” Loki asked as the two of you walked the brightly lit streets of Tokyo.
“Record, work on my next album. My last album released almost three years ago so it’s time to get my material out there.”
“You won’t take a break?”
You shook your head and slightly laughed. “Why would I? I have so many ideas, I feel so inspired…” you said, leaving it vague so he would have no idea half the songs in filling up your notebook were about him right now. About experiences together, about the fear of losing him, about the budding friendship.
About falling in love with him…
“That’s a wonderful idea, then,” he said.
“And you? What will you do?” you wondered.
“Me? I… don’t know. I suppose I’ll join Thor back at the Avengers compound, help him with managing the Asgardians. Possibly train. I believe Stark wants me to join the team, help fight crime, be a hero,” he said, rolling his eyes, pretending to hate the idea.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” you beamed.
“You think I’m cut out for the job?” he asked.
“I think you were born to help the world,” you simply stated, trying to hide your blush as you walked.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he commented.
-----------------
Four months into recording and life was upside down, to say the least.
Recording was good, you had tons and tons of fantastic material that the band and producers could work with for you all to build hit after hit. The music side of your life was fantastic.
But since you and Loki parted ways at the airport, this all felt so empty. What was an artist without her muse? The lyrics were there, the melody was there, but the heart, the soul… it just wasn’t in it. The songs that had nothing to do with Loki were phenomenal, over the top. It was real quality work.
Yet, if Loki was the star of the piece, you just couldn’t get in the headspace to fill the void that was inside you. Even with nightly Skype video chats and daily texts, it wasn’t enough. You wanted to see him when you went to sleep, wake up to him. Tease him about his extensively long morning routine to get ready. Even let him hypocritically tease you about owning too much leather. Hearing his laugh, seeing the way his face lit up and his eyes sparkled at the world, watching as he gazed at you while you worked -- that’s what you missed, that’s what you needed. It’s almost as if his face itself were a song.
You had no idea if he felt the same though. You were madly, deeply in love with this man, and you were sure he felt that you were only a friend. Otherwise he would’ve made a move, right?
Maybe you could gear your heartbreak towards your music, you thought. Everyone loves a good heartbreak song, right? But you didn’t want heartbreak, you wanted life… You wanted love… You wanted Loki.
It was late one day and you all had been trying to record a song, a non-Loki related song and it was going decently, but you couldn't get quite the right pitch you wanted, so you were running it over and over.
“Okay, Burt, let’s run it again, from the top,” you said, readying your headphones.
“Y/N, you got a visitor?” your producer said and you looked up and frowned. You pulled off the headphones and walked out of the booth, into the hall, where your muse stood.
“Loki?” you gasped as you walked forward, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly. You pulled away and looked up at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I have something to show you, if you have a second. You said you were having some trouble with some songs so…”
“So you flew all the way down here to show me some lyrics?” you asked, incredulous and happily surprised.
“You flew all over the world for me, it’s only fair I repay the favor,” he stated with a boyish grin. “Besides, someone back home was encouraging me to come see you.”
You peered up at him only a moment longer, getting transfixed on that stunning smile before you finally remembered why he was here. You opened up a folded piece of paper and gasped.
“Loki… is this a poem?”
“Yes, for you. I thought it might help with some of the musical writer’s block,” he tried.
“This… this is fantastic. I love it. Truly.”
“You can use it for a song, if you’d like.”
“Really? Are you sure? I’ll credit you and make sure you get royalties and--”
He put his hands on your shoulders and looked at you. “All I need from you is confirmation that you will accompany me to a date this evening.”
You stared in awe for a moment. “A...a date? That’s it?”
“If it’s not too much to ask?”
“No! Of course not! Yeah, I’d love to. I’d be more than happy to,” you said, blowing any sort of cool cover you might’ve had going on.
“Excellent.” He leaned forward and kissed your forehead. “I look forward to your next album. Make me proud.”
At this, you grinned like a fool before he left you speechless in the hallway. Quickly, you tucked away your song, prepared to look over it later and transform it. You stepped back in the booth and the next take was perfect.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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imhereforbvcky · 7 years ago
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Pecans vs. Blueberries
Masterlist 
Summary: Sam Wilson challenges his pastry chef girlfriend to a breakfast making competition that devolves into fluff and silliness. Prompt: “Take another step and I swear to you I will knock you on your ass!”
Warnings: none! I don’t even think I swore! Just tooth rotting fluff. Ha! I punned.
Word Count: 2174
Author’s Note: This is for @denialanderror’s 2k Writing Challenge. Congrats, buddy! :) Thanks for some non-angst inspiration.
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Morning was always the best time to make use of the kitchens at the Avengers Compound. It was massive and pristine and had every tool you could dream of within its sleek cabinets and pantries.
The only challenge was that the place was perpetually filled with hungry training superheroes, who had no qualms about dipping a fingertip into your freshly whipped buttercream. Who often prematurely snatched up a golden pastry before you’d filled it with custard and topped it with chocolate ganache. Sometimes an entire bowl of apricot glazed fruit would be nibbled down to just a few crushed berries by the time you were ready to top your perfectly set tart.
But mornings were usually safe. If you woke early enough, the only one with any life would be Steve whose 1940s manners hadn’t quite abandoned him. He never swiped without asking, and he only rarely asked.
Your boyfriend, however, was a menace. Sam would slide an arm around your waist and kiss your neck while his fingers reached for the lemon curd. He’d only grin when you balked and kiss you with the tangy flavor still lingering on his tongue. He liked to hover close by, watching you work and experiment, sneaking treats and frowning at the more daring concoctions.
So today while your pear and almond tart baked in the oven, warm vanilla and spicy cinnamon and star anise wafting down the halls, you also started on something the soon-to-rise team would be allowed to eat.
Sam was the first to follow the scent into the kitchen. He slipped behind you, humming at the prospect of a sweet breakfast delight. His hands held gently onto your hips as he stepped closer.
“Smells good,” he murmured. His nose skimmed the column of your neck before he placed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Can I help?”
You leaned into him as you set down the bowl of pale runny batter. “I don’t think you can,” you grinned, swirling the pan to spread the thin substance.
“I’mma pretend you didn’t just say that.”
“Oh I’m sorry,” you snapped back with a wide smile. “Do you make crepes a lot?”
“No,” he argued. With a raised brow, he stepped away from you and ran a spatula through your crepe batter, giving it a skeptical frown. “I make pancakes because they’re better than some sad floppy crepe.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that!” You pointed your own spatula at him. “I’m going to make you the best crepe you’ve ever had.”
“Still won’t be as good as the pancake I’m ‘bout to make you.” He swatted your ass on his way to the pantry.
“I don’t want your puffed up pan-fried cake from a box!” you laughed as he returned proudly displaying the box of Aunt Jemima pancake mix.
“Oh you will,” he smirked, drawing up a pan beside yours on the stove.
You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Why because you’ll drown it in maple syrup? It’ll be up to you to call an ambulance when I choke on it.”
“Baby, you won’t even need syrup.” Sam Wilson didn’t second guess his choices; he felt strongly about things and made decisions with finality. That confidence was typically an attractive trait, but today, in this breakfast battle, it only irked you. “Everyone’s going to choose my pancakes over your chewy wilted crepes.”
“Everyone?!” you laughed. “Is this a competition now? Sam I’m a pastry chef, I’m going to destroy you and your boxed pancakes.”
“Yeah and if we were making soufflés I might be worried,” he shrugged as he began slicing bananas.
You only shook your head, watching with suspicion as he reached over you to swipe the vanilla and nutmeg you’d used earlier in your tart. “Tell you what, if I like your pancakes I’ll make you breakfast in bed on Saturday.”
“No-ho-ho way!” he laughed, pouring batter onto his hot skillet and carefully placing banana slices around the center of the pancake. Next he sprinkled coconut onto it and waited. “You can’t be contestant and judge. Everybody votes. A pecan in the jar for me, a blueberry for you. Loser makes breakfast.”
You laughed as he held up one of each, drawing the blueberry from your pile.
“You’re on,” you agreed.
He popped both the pecan and the blueberry into his mouth before he leaned over and kissed your temple.
If you were honest, you were a little nervous. Sam’s first pancake looked damn good as he dropped chopped pecans on top and stole your bowl of whipped cream.
Pancakes were an American classic. Lucky for you, this compound was full of an international crowd. Sam had hedged his bets on one good pancake, but you would make sweet crepes, savory crepes, simple ones, and decadent ones.
Before long you’d taken over the kitchen, sautéing mushrooms and dicing chives. You whipped sweet cream and sliced strawberries. The chocolate sauce was melting beautifully with a little cream and a splash of coffee. You had a bowl of sliced lemons beside the sugar, and warm ham next to several cheese sauces.
In a word, Sam was toast.
He began to realize this with agitated amusement. The more items you set out, the more the kitchen smelled like a cafe, the more his teammates filtered into the kitchen, dipping fingers into your sauces, swiping cherry tomatoes, and bits of fruit. They each made their plates and you found yourself needing to make more.
“You know,” he drawled, leaning over your pan, stirring your next batch of chocolate sauce. “I think I’d prefer a chocolate crepe.”
“You don’t have to tell me, Sammy. I know my crepes are better,” you grinned. “Just put chocolate sauce on it.”
“No, I mean, the crepe. I think your recipe needs some tweaking. I could help,” he grinned over at you, lifting the spoon coated in chocolate sauce.
“No!” you insisted. “No, no, no! That has cream and so much sugar. It’ll throw off the batter.”
“I think it needs it.” If the mischievous glint in his eye didn’t tell you what he was planning, the smirk on his face and the slow deliberate movements he made toward your side of the kitchen sure did.
You quickly snatched up your crepe batter as he lunged forward with the chocolate covered spoon.
“Sam! You know I take a challenge very seriously,” you tried to keep a straight face as you danced on either side of the island. Every time he stepped right, you stepped left. “And you’re trying to cheat!”
“I’m helping!” he argued as he hurled himself on top of the island.
You yelped; backing away with a laugh until your back hit the table. He stalked closer and closer.
He dipped a finger into the chocolate coating the spoon and brought it to his lips. “Mmm this is some good sauce, baby. It’s going in that crepe batter,” he promised.
“Take another step and I swear to you I will knock you on your ass!” you laughed.
“Oh you will?” he chuckled with raised eyebrows.
“Yes! Don’t sabotage my crepes!”
“I don’t need to take another step.”
Before you could even register his actions he held the handle of the spoon firmly in the air and bent the tip of it back with a finger and released. Chocolate sauce splattered forward in an arc of sugary dark mess. It streaked across your face, down your forearms still clutched around the bowl, and an enormous glob ran in the batter from one end of the bowl to the other.
You stood shocked, staring into the bowl with eyes wide. Sam rolled his lips between his teeth to bite back the laughter threatening to bubble forth. He stepped closer, waiting for a reaction, but you gave him none.
“I think uh…” he smiled, brown eyes dancing with laughter. “I think it could use a little more.”
“Sam don’t you dare!” you shouted, swinging the bowl out of reach.
But he was never aiming for the bowl. He swiped the whole spoon across your cheek, leaving a smear of sticky sweet chocolate sauce in its wake.
“Perfect.” The smile on his face was both enchanting and infuriating. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Just…” then your nose, “perfect,” then your chocolate covered cheek before he licked his lips.
You swiped two fingers over the mess on your face and sighed before licking them clean. “It is good chocolate sauce,” you agreed, setting down the bowl of batter.
He only laughed as he wrapped his arms around you.
“You should try the whipped cream though,” you smirked as you smeared a handful from the table down his face. The white foam smeared from nose to chin.
You glimpsed the smile beneath the cream before he dove for your neck. Still trapped in his arms, all you could do was squeal and squirm as he smeared the whipped cream into your neck and shoulder mingled with laughter and kisses and nips at your skin. It was cold and wet, but his lips were warm, and his beard scratched at your skin.
Tony cleared his throat from the end of the table. “Hey there are children present, can you two…” he flicked his wrist to wave back down the hall, but the lopsided grin on his face made you giggle.
“Wha? Me?” Peter asks, swallowing a mouthful of pancake. “I’m-- I’m not a child. I saved all those people on that ferry remember? And I could get my driver’s license now--”
“Do you have your driver’s license?” Tony rolled his head back toward the kid.
“Well no, I take the bus, but--”
“We cooked y’all can clean!” Sam insisted, not even sparing a glance as he kept you caged in his arms and walked you both down the hall toward his room. You could only giggle and shuffle backward in his strong grip, kissing at the sticky bits of breakfast still smeared over his chin and neck.
That weekend you lay in bed, enjoying the cool spring air through the window. It was rare that you slept in, but you relished in it when you did. You wished Sam was here; wished you were curled up under his arm, head resting on his shoulder with your legs tangled together. Your favorite part of lazy mornings was the tight squeeze he gave you when he woke.
But today he’d kissed your forehead and slipped out the door, telling you to rest, he was just going to run with Steve and he’d be back.
And he did come back. With a soft knock at the door to announce his presence, he eased inside holding a tray of food. You grinned from ear to ear as you shifted up in bed, drawing your knees to your chest.
“What’s this?” you asked happily, stretching like a cat.
“Well, there were way more blueberries than pecans on Tuesday morning, so.” He shrugged, setting the tray on the bed.  There was orange juice and a bowl of whipped cream, a dish of whipped butter, strawberries and blackberries, a small pitcher with… maple syrup.
“Sam… is there a pancake under that lid?” you asked with a wary smile.
“Baby, I wouldn’t dare,” he feigned shock.
You eyed him carefully, reaching for the warming lid over the plate.
“It’s a waffle!” he announced as you pulled it away.
“Sam!” you laughed as you fell back onto the pillows. “Is this from a box too?”
“The very same box,” he grinned, taking the fork and cutting himself a bite. “Mmm Aunt Jemima knows the way to my heart.”
You rolled your eyes. “Are you eating my victory breakfast?”
“No,” he smiled more softly this time as he picked up the plate. “This is my breakfast. You’re too picky and too good at what you do. I learned my lesson.”
You picked up the envelope that he’d left under the plate. “Angelo’s?” you asked, excitedly unfolding the gift card.
“I know you like their homemade bread; I’ll take you out for breakfast instead.”
“So let me get this straight,” you laughed. “You lost, and you get your favorite breakfast here, in bed. And I have to go shower and get dressed and go out to get mine?”
Sam dropped his head to the mattress and let out a chuckle.  “When you put it like that…”
“Hey Sam?” you asked, pushing your fingers over his hair and dragging your nails across his skin as you hooked your fingers back down his neck and beneath his ear.
“Yeah,” he mumbled into the blankets.
“Can we make me some of those banana coconut pancakes?”
He turned to you with a smile creeping up the corners of his lips as he shook his head. “You liked ‘em, huh?” he asked, rolling out of bed and holding his hand out for you to take.
You nodded, tugging down your t-shirt. “With extra pecans?”
Anything & Everything Tags: strikethrough means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you. If I can’t tag you for 3 consecutive fics, I’ll remove you from the list. You can always be re-added if you sort it out.
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thewritingkfan · 7 years ago
Text
Fool’s gold
Genre : Angst
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Today is Jongin’s birthday. You were determined to give him the best night he’ll have this year. You had the restaurant table and the cruise booked . You also had in your bag a copy of the exclusive edition of that book he’s been ranting about for months.
You were dressed better than ever, just for his beautiful eyes. You bought black heels similar to the ones he once said he liked on his friend’s wife. You put on a long skirt. One of those he spent hours trying to convince you to buy but you refused saying : “I’ll never in my life wear this grandma thingy.”
You brushed your hair back the way he liked it and you made sure your shirt didn’t show your cleavage. He doesn’t like it when your cleavage is out there for everyone to see.
You were looking literally everything he wanted a woman to look like.
The taxi dropped you before the hotel where he worked as a head manager. Jongin was literally everything you looked for in a man. He was kind, and educated. He respects you and his looks meet your taste.
You take a deep breath and a step inside. The place was grand. Too luxurious for your taste. Everybody looked like they were following some kind of code and they can’t do anything other than that.
-          “Excuse me ?” You start addressing the hostess .
She raised her eyes on you and you notice her perfect eye make up that looked nothing like yours. Yours looks like a mess compared to hers, of course.
-          “I’m looking for Mr. Kim Jongin.” You smile.
-          “Jongin? He’s in the kitchen. Take the corridor on the right, it’s at the end of it.” She smiled
You smile back and start where she showed you. You begin to wonder if Jongin was a mean manager for his staff to call him by his first name. Or was he that humble?
You arrive to the door of the kitchen. You were ready to make all Jongin’s staff drop their chins. They will all be teasing him about how beautiful his girlfriend is, he’ll tell you about it, you’ll act all sassy, he’ll think it’s cute and he’ll hug you. Like always.
You grab the handle of the door and open it. You’re welcomed by a hot steam against your body which made you flinch as you settled to the heat of the room. It was so busy, too busy. And too noisy . A couple of servers missed to walk into you as you looked around .
-          “Excuse me ?” You address one of the cooks .
-          “You can’t be here, Miss.” He said his hands still automatically wrapping the scrambled eggs in the crepe .
-          “I’m looking f-“ A big noise cut you and you flinch turning its direction .
-          “If you’re not going to do your work correctly, fucking leave. There are a lot of people looking for a job like this one.” A tall and large man yelled throwing a plate to the ground that burst into small pieces.
Surprised, you look back at the cook as he shook his head to you.
-          “He has been so distracted lately. A lot of clients complain that their plates and spoons are not clean.” He explained .
You turn back and your eyes widen in shock . Jongin was sat on his knees , picking up the pieces and apologizing . You notice the veins on his forehead and forearms. He must be really angry. Your heart fell to a dark hole. The tall protective man that walked by your side on the street, that made you feel like nothing could reach you , was now sitting on his knees apologizing to another man.
-          “You think you’re going to be able to support a family like this ?” He paused . “That if you’re ever able to make one.”
-          “Excuse you!” You yell walking his way.
You locked eyes with Jongin for a second. You notice him release his fist and you realize you interfered just in time.
-          “What did you just say?” You ask, angrily.
-          “And you are ?” He asked with flirty eyes.
-          “I’m the woman of this man that you just insulted right now.”
His eyes widen and he frowned.
-          “Mommy is here to stand up for you, ha?” He teased looking passed you to Jongin .
-          “His mommy is here to burst your fucking balls so that we see who ain’t making family, ha!” You yell back kicking his balls.
As he rolled on himself, you look back at Jongin. His eyes looked into your soul. You didn’t know what to say, or what to do. All you knew is that he lied to you.
You turn your back at him and leave before the hungry eyes of his colleagues in the kitchen.
-          “What the fuck are you looking at!?” You heard him yell behind you.
Your untrained steps were obviously slower than his and by the time you reached the hall, he had already caught you. You snap your forearm off his grip and whisper :
-          “Don’t touch me!”
-          “Why the fuck are you here ?” He asked seeing red.
He looked down at your clothes and his piercing gaze softened .
-          “Babe, i-“
-          “You lied to me, Jongin!” You angrily spit.
-          “I’m sorry . . I-“ He started.
-          “You’re what !?” You cut him.
-          “I ..” He paused . “I honestly don’t know what to say.” He finished looking away.
Realization crossed your mind and the anger in you grew more.
-          “Did you, by any chance, think I’d love you more if you make me believe you make a lot of money?”
-          “Y/N, I-“ He started again.
-          “You fucking did think that, didn’t you?” You yell this time .
-          “Don’t scream at me !” He yelled back.
-          “Don’t scream at you !!! Seriously ?” You pause. “So this whole time, you’ve been thinking I was with you for the money ?” You yell higher .
Jongin ran his gaze in the hall to notice some indiscrete eyes looking your direction. He hated being the center of any attention, he’s just been humiliated by his boss, and you’ve just discovered he was actually lying at you.
-          “Fool’s gold !” He frowned, immediately regretting it.
Your eyes gathered tears and adrenaline exploded in your chest.
-          “You think that low of me, don’t you?” You calmly ask .
Jongin was looking at you in big eyes. You weren’t sure what shocked him more, the fact that you discovered the truth about him, or the fact that he just let you know how he thought of you.
You calmly unzip your bag and throw the wrapped gift to the ground.
-          “Happy birthday.” You cry, walking away.
________________________________________________________________
Like always, tell me what you think . 
Part 2 ? ha ? ha ? *teasing mode : on*
Part2 is here.
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