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lenaariewrld · 2 years ago

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dream girl

40. bad news, good news

———

The little restaurant you choose to meet Kunimi at is fairly populated when you arrive, with tables both inside and sitting outside full of young adults and teens all chatting with each other in their own groups. You press your lips together and search for your ex-roommate, spotting him sitting under a table with a blue and yellow umbrella, an iced drink in his hand while he scrolls on his phone absently. “You going to be okay?” Iwaizumi walks up behind you, car keys in hand, after making sure the vehicle he drove you two in is parked and locked.

You nod after a second.

“You’re here if something goes wrong.. And I don’t think he’ll try anything,” With a shrug, you take the first step and head towards Kunimi, clearing your throat once you’re within distance of him. He looks up from scrolling through whatever social media site he was on when he hears you, offering a curt nod but otherwise not reacting. You can’t say you’re surprised.

“Thanks for meeting me…”

“Yeah,” You hold your arms and take a seat across from Kunimi as he gestures for you to sit, your movements slow. You can feel Iwaizumi’s eyes watching you from where he sits perched on the hood of his car, ready to walk up and leave with you if anything goes awry. Knowing he’s there helps you feel a little relaxed, but your nerves still chew at your stomach like a gnawing beast. Mostly, because you’re worried about whatever messages Kunimi has to show you. What Kaori said, what her motivation was for treating you like the gum she scraped off the bottom of her shoe. “Whenever you want to pull it up,” You urge quietly.

Kunimi nods, closes his app, and pulls up the messages. He scrolls to the beginning of the conversation and turns his phone to you, setting it on the table for you to grab and read at your own pace. You hunch forward and carefully read each message.

Your brows knit themselves together with each new word.

Kaori’s messages are sour and clipped, completely unlike the overly emoji-fied, extra lettered and excessive nicknamed messages she would send when you first met her. Your throat clamps shut as you read on, urging your eyes to process the messages despite wanting desperately to do just the opposite of that.

‘im just teaching her how the real world works, and people like her dont deserve to cruise through easily’

What does that even mean?

How does she think you’re cruising through life?

You finally reach the end of the conversation, but you’re left with more questions than answers, confused by her implications and even more confused by how she seems to genuinely believe she’s in the right. Maybe it was because she was crazy like Kunimi said? Or because she was just delusional enough to twist her point of view? Whatever it was, you understand her even less than before.

“Huh,” Is all you can manage to say next, scrolling through and rereading the conversation a few more times. Kunimi watches you, leaning on his elbow.

“I think she’s just jealous and grabbing whatever bullshit excuse she can…” He says, sipping from his drink. Slowly, you pull away from the phone and nod.

“Maybe,”

You slide his phone back towards him, leaning back in your seat. Your throat still feels dry and your stomach continues to twist itself in all manners of directions, like it’s following the most cursed game of DDR it can come up with. “Anyway,” He pauses and lets you process. “I also wanted to… offer any help you might need in finding a new place or anything… I’m currently staying with a friend, so I can’t offer much, but…” Kunimi trails off and lets his offer hang in the air between the two of you. The more you look at him, the more you notice how awake he looks. Of course he still has circles beneath his eyes and the perpetual look of boredom, but there’s actual color in his skin and his eyes seem more lively and reactive.

“I don’t know..” You’re hesitant to just accept his help or immediately forgive him. A part of you is still worried he might up and betray you again. It’s not like he actively did anything.. but what hurt the most was how you trusted him and he didn’t do anything to speak against what was going on because he had been sleeping with Kaori. It hurt you, genuinely. But you can’t fully hate him, either, having seen his defense of you and how often he apologized and tried to fix what he did. It was a hard decision to just make on the fly.

Kunimi shakes his head before you can say anything else. “It’s okay if you’re not willing to, or if you don’t want to forgive me.. I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do besides dealing with Kaori..” He shrugs. You press your lips together.

“I’m not mad at you or anything… and I probably could forgive you… but, I think I just need to get my other shit in order first,” You glance towards Iwaizumi, breathing in. “Thank you for what you have done…”

He nods and stands up, pushing his chair in. “Well, I guess I can leave you be, then... I won’t take up more of your time.” He nods his head once more as a goodbye, lets you wave him off, and then walks inside to pay for his drink. You head off once the door closes behind him, knocking against the hood of Iwa’s car to get his attention.

“Ready?” He asks, pulling out his keys and unlocking the car.

“Yup,”

Iwaizumi drives you to a nearby park, claiming that he already let the others know where you guys were so that they could meet you two when they got off work or out of their lectures. You remain quiet the whole time, running your hands over your legs over and over. “So… Did you figure anything out?” He speaks up hesitantly, the car slowing as he pulls into a mostly-empty parking lot.

“Sort of?” You shrug, picking at the seam of your pants. “I mean, apparently, Kaori did everything she did to ‘teach me how the real world works’ because she claims I’m one of those people who cruises through, but it makes no sense… and nothing else she said made much sense, either,” You add on when Iwa stays silent, allowing you the time to explain. He only hums, parking the car.

The car engine hums idly before he shuts it off, looking over at you. “She sounds delusional, same as that night with me and Oikawa,” He says it like a fact that can’t be refuted, not that you have much energy to argue with him about it.

Maybe before all of this, when you still thought Kaori was just a little weird and that she just cared about your safety, you would’ve. Now, though, you can’t believe you ever thought she cared about you or anyone other than herself. She had been using your ignorance and trust in her since the beginning.

Your phone buzzes in your purse.

You paused in getting out of the car to pull it out, not noticing Iwaizumi circling the vehicle to get the door for you, your eyes still focused on your screen when he pulls it open. “What’s up?” He asks when you don’t move.

“The administration got back to me about my dorm…” You say, eyes scanning the new email. “‘Given the situation that we have been told about, as well as the actions of Ms Kaori Hashimoto, it has been agreed upon to provide you new housing for the remainder of this term at no extra cost. Our staff has also assigned a counselor to look into the allegations you have raised against Ms Hashimoto, and we will assign proper punishment when our investigation has concluded–” You pause in your reading of the email to take a breath.

“–Attached are the details of your new temporary housing. More permanent solutions may be figured out with our staff over the summer once new courses have been assigned’” Finished with reading, you look up from your phone with a shy smile. Iwa huffs in response, patting your head.

“Good, that’s that out of the way,” He says, stepping back to let you get out of the car. You gather your things and excitedly get out, closing your door and following him onto one of the paths of the park, your mood a little improved with the knowledge that now you have a place to stay that’s not Samu and Sakusa’s couch.

As grateful to them as you may be, you didn’t want to keep mooching off them for longer than necessary. So, you’re glad for this solution, deciding you’d look for a more permanent place once everything settled.

———

previous | masterlist | next

extras :

iwaizumi and y/n enjoyed a nice day at the park after this <3

the meeting with kunimi was mostly short bc,,, y/n and him had nothing else to talk about

taglist: @sugasloverr @gothic-illustrations @daphnxy @xfangirl-trashx @duhsies @starsabove-me @bolinhodadestruicao @halcyondaisy @alienvarmint @its-the-aerieljeane @meena-in-a-nutshell @lalalemon101 @akaashiyin @amisuh @togesslut @kris-1 @oikawasbuttcheeks @encrytpta @shookykookie30 @kenmaslov3r @donkeyshrong @a-katsukitty @choozari @jewlmin @darlingkuroo @rietvellld @lovely-maryj @daninaninani @kajousfuwa

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crediblebombthreat · 2 years ago

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Tumblr Day 5ish De-Brief

I wanted to post this here so I can look back on it in disgust or curiosity later, not necessarily because I think anyone needs to read it. This is a bit of a long post, by the way. Consider before clicking.

It's very strange coming back here after seeing glimpses of it in the mid 2010s and seeing that it's basically the same. There's less porn and the overall post quality seems to have gone up slightly -- but the fundamental soul of the site is still the same one it was before metrics, engagement, and algorithms started to define what the internet was on a metaphysical (for lack of a better term) level. Ironically, the only other places I know of like this are the boards on 4chan too niche or pretentious to assimilate the flood of low-quality posts from rightoids that are either 16 or 47 years old. Everywhere else on the internet that people spend time on has an invisible coating of unreality over it.

This isn't to say that tumblr is immune -- you have things like Blaze -- but spending real money for notes isn't the point of the site.

If I find something fucked up and weird on YouTube, for example, it's like when an AI lets you win at chess. YouTube's algorithm knows I like weird videos, and this video has been determined by a network of keywords to be weird. The same (or very, very similar) applies to TikTok, Twitter, Facebook, and Reddit (although the userbase is delusional and denies this -- go figure, they're redditors).

If I see something fucked up and weird on tumblr it's a result of the ever-churning slurry of content organically burping up a post from 2013 because a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend reblogged it a week ago. There is also a possibility that the person posting a sped up .gif of a caterpillar eating a leaf with the caption "ummm sh eis my fukcign sister!!!" payed upwards of $150 for me to see it, which is surreal in its own, different, way.

Because of this (and despite the culture of detachment), everything feels a bit more sincere. Which is definitely sometimes a weakness -- tumblr twee creates some of the most cloying garbage I've ever seen -- but it also sets up situations where (unlike everywhere else on the internet) the news that travels fastest isn't always bad news.

I imagine most users of tumblr are either aware of this or just take it for granted, but for a relative outsider it's a it's a good control on the direction the rest of the internet is going. Or, more accurately, where it is right now. I notice a general feeling of unease and dissatisfaction coming from a lot of people who use the internet for something other than a continuous stream of entertainment. Even dedicated internet trolls mourn for the days when you could dissolve the social fabric of a forum by using "(:" instead of ":)". As opposed to now where every online argument is a different flavor of the same three topics; all soaked in self-important moralism, and often framed through a reductive political lens -- the worst impulses of the 2010s internet concentrated and refined.

This isn't to say that the process of something gaining popularity and losing some of the quirks you appreciated about it, or the slow erosion of a medium is unnatural or anything. It's been happening since the dawn of time. It is, however, strange that it's happening to people in their teens and twenties rather than people in their forties and fifties.

The bad news is: as things reach new heights of profitability in capitalism, they are further alienated from a human element. The good news is: literally everyone is acutely aware of that, even if it's subconscious. It's why we still watch competitive chess between two people and why I believe AI art is nowhere near as catastrophic as one might think (among a few other reasons).

And because of that good news, tumblr will probably stay the correct type of shitty in the long-run. I don't see a world where there exists a corporate entity competent enough to algo-monetize tumblr while still retaining a userbase. And I DEFINITELY don't see a world where that hypothetical corporate entity would willingly buy tumblr.

I have other thoughts about the possible futures of the internet, but that's more applicable to a Substack article rather than a musing tumblr post. Additionally, all outcomes other than "capital snakes its way deeper into the processes of communication and we are helpless but to watch" must take into account that "capital snakes its way deeper into the processes of communication and we are helpless but to watch" is the most likely outcome considering nothing crazy happens.

But hey, something crazy usually happens.

#reallygreatseriousposts #web theory

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lustbile-archive · 4 years ago

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Wanna Watch?

YangyangxReader

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary/Warning: Smut. Yangyang swears that tentacles are hot, just watch one video with him and you’ll see. He promises.… this was supposed to be a blurb but then I got very carried away. and because of that it might be a little rambley at some parts im so sorry

Requested

You’d be the first to admit that you and Yangyang had a weird friendship. Your other friends had clocked it, saying that even for best friends, you were way too open with each other.

And they weren’t technically wrong. Something about being around Yangyang deleted your filter, made you say shit that you never thought you’d say to another human being, but in your defense, he was exactly the same way.

It started with a few dirty jokes. It wasn’t anything serious or any different than ones you’d say with or without each other, but you two did encourage each other. It was as if anything one of you said, the other had something to add. It didn’t take long for things to begin to spiral and for your friends to decide that you two together were lethal.

After that day it was like you were attached at the hip. Something about your shared vulgarness made you click and it wasn’t very long after until it went a little far.

It was the first time you stayed over at his place, a bottle of liquor tucked in your bag. Tipsy off a half a bottle each, you both let it slip what turned you on the most. It wasn’t weird at the time, but the next morning there was a tension there.

That tension eventually faded, leading to another sleep over. And another. And another. Each of them somehow leading to some form of sexual conversation.

But the one that happened tonight was different.

Some joke about porn was made. You two sat side by side in your own chairs as you watched him play some game you quickly forgot the name of, and he had deemed it appropriate to mention that it would be kinda hot if the woman he played as were to get fucked by the tentacle monster that she fought.

You started by jokingly scolding him about how, though you weren’t sure exactly in what way, what he said was chauvinistic. But then you followed it with teasing about how he was a weirdo for being into tentacles.

“Oh come on,” he goes on, much louder than he needed to be, “you cannot tell me you’ve never looked at tentacle porn. Not even just because you were curious?”

“What porn I watch is none of your business Yang,” you retort as you push your finger in his face, a bratty giggle bursting from you when he smacks your hand away in irritation.

“So you’re not denying that you’ve seen tentacle porn,” he hums, nodding to himself, “if that’s the case I’m just gonna assume you have.”

You move to retort again, but he quickly interrupts, “actually I’m going to assume that you only watch tentacle porn and it’s something you get off to very often.”

“You think about me getting off a lot Yangyang?” you ask, but you quickly realize maybe the question was a step too far once the words are in the air.

Thankfully, he seems to ignore your question as he suddenly closed his game, the incognito tab he opens immediately after making your mouth run dry.

“How about this,” he starts, his fingers running across the keyboard as he types in the the link to a porn site. You divert your eyes quickly when you see the bars auto fill pop up, the idea of seeing whatever he looked at when he forgot to go incognito making your stomach flip, “let’s just take a little peek and we’ll see who’s right.”

“See who’s right about what?” your voice pitches and your back straightens as you ask.

“About whether or not tentacles are hot,” he turns to you briefly as if he’s explaining a math equation to you, “come on dude keep up.”

“Man I don’t know,” you hesitate, but you quickly notice he already has a video picked out and queued.

“I’m not gonna force you to watch it if you don’t want,” he reassures as he hovers his cursor over the play button, “but I also won’t judge you if you’re curious.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip for a moment as you think, your heart beating faster as the seconds pass, “okay fine just play it before I change my mind.”

And that’s how you got where you are now. You and Yangyang curled into your chairs, eyes wide and curious as a slender woman, with a disproportionately large chest, screams and whines while she’s brutally fucked by a weird tentacle monster.

You feel your face twist in fascination, first at the amount of detail and time that must have went into animating each frame, but then slowly but surely, just how weirdly hot you found yourself finding the video.

Something about the way the multiple tentacles cover her body as they suspend her in the air. One is shoved deep in her mouth, gross gagging noises added as a result, two attached to both of her nipples and another set fucking her open from both holes. It was easily one of the weirdest things you’ve ever seen, but you couldn’t ignore the growing wetness it caused in your underwear.

You try to not let it show in your body language, the idea of Yangyang noticing your arousal and then most likely making fun of you for it making you want to crawl in a hole.

You eyes dart over to him for a moment to try and gauge how he’s feeling. The first thing you notice immediately is the way he curls to block your view of his crotch, the second being the fact that he looks at you as well.

“So… what are you thinking?” he asks slowly.

“I don’t know what are you thinking?” you throw back almost too quickly.

“I… I think you know what I’m thinking,” his words continue to spill out like molasses, his head quickly nodding to the space between his legs with a embarrassed flush to his skin, “I’m asking how you’re feeling.”

“I don’t know,” you double down, your head shaking with a jerk, “I- I don’t know how I’m feeling.”

“It’s okay if you like it-“

“I don’t know if I like it,” you lie, your tone defensive and sharp.

“You do know that you’re not a bad person for liking it right?” He continues to reassure as he tries to keep his patience with you.

You only huff in response, the video still loudly playing as you talk. You try to shift in your seat to create distance between you, but it only makes you aware of how your arousal grows.

“Okay im not gonna lie,” he starts, a joking tone to his voice in the way that tells you he’s trying to ease the tension, “I think it’s hot, but you probably guessed that. I’m just saying I could totallly jack it to this.”

You know it’s a joke, but that doesn’t stop the words from making your face warm and your thighs flex. And even though you try and advert your eyes, you know he is analyzing every move you make.

“Do you maybe…” he trails off as he considers what to say next, “ack, no no it’s weird never mind.”

“What?” you dart up in panic, “is something im doing weird?”

“No no no,” he panics as well, “you’re fine… I was just gonna ask if you... if you maybe wanted to see how much you like it. Like see if you can get off to it?”

It was in this you found out that maybe your friends were right. Maybe you were lethal together, too comfortable and relaxed and willing to do and say the worst in front of each other. If that wasn’t the case there was no way in hell you’d end up where you were now.

If someone had told you that when you first met Yangyang that one night you two would be masturbating to tentacle porn together, you would have told them they lived in a fantasy, that they were just delusional perverts that don’t like people being just friends, but they would have been right.

You felt weirdly eager as you pushed your pajama shorts and underwear to his floor, the air of the room hitting your skin and making you come to the terms of how wet the video had gotten you.

And the fact that Yangyang seemed equally as eager as he pulled himself from the restrains of his sweatpants both put you at ease while putting you incredibly in edge.

You tried to ignore him as he sat next to you. Your eyes taking an iron lock onto his screen as a new video played. It was the same idea, pretty girl with literally any possible hole stuffed with a slimy tentacle getting pleasured in any way possible, the only difference was a slight change in art style.

It took you a moment to get into it, your fingers gently tapping against your clit as you tried to build the courage to touch yourself the same way you do in the safety of your own room, but after one particularly hard thrust from the monster and a desperate cry from the girl, you couldn’t hold back.

Your fingers dipped into your entrance gently as you coated the tips in your arousal, your hips jumping slightly at the friction.

Yangyang tried to ignore you as well, his fist moving slowly as he tried to focus on the scene in front of him, but the way you jerked next to him and the bubbles of noise that slipped unintentionally from your lips, he felt like a starving tiger being tempted with a steak.

You tried to bite your tongue to hold in any moans as your fingers started to roll circles gently on your clit, but with the way you grew wetter and wetter and the rising sensitivity in the bundle of nerves, you couldn’t help the quiet whimpering that rose from you chest.

It wasn’t that you could get off to it, it was actually much easier than you had anticipated. Something about the way the girls in the videos were being stimulated in every way possible had you hot and dripping in your arousal, and maybe your best friend pleasuring himself next to you was making it a million times sexier.

You weren’t alone though. It didn’t take long for Yangyang to lose his internal battle, his eyes straining to his side and his gaming chair rolling back slightly to allow him to watch you from the side. He knew he could crank one out easily to the videos in front of him, he had done it plenty of times before, but if he let the opportunity of watching your chest rise and fall with labored breaths while your fingers moved quickly over your dampened skin pass him by, he’d be kicking himself forever.

He was moving before he could even think, the finger of his free hand working with a mind of his own as they tap gently on the side of your chair. His heart beat sky rockets when you jump, but he only feels himself get harder when he sees it doesn’t stop your rapidly moving hand.

“Say no,” he whispers regardless of his growing need to touch you, “say no cause I cannot ruin this friendship.”

“No offense Yang,” he almost collapses at how winded you sound, but also at the promise that you’re still comfortable enough to shorten his name, “but if what we’re doing now didn’t ruin it, I don’t think anything will.”

“Thank fuck,” he speaks too loudly again as he moves his chair next to yours, his hand brushing against the side of your bare leg as it leans against the arm of your chair, “cause I wanna touch you so bad dude.”

“Hmmmm,” you hum out as his words swirl your brain like a blender, your heart rapidly pumping against your chest. You’d be a liar if you tried to act like the idea didn’t cause a new wave of arousal run over your body. Your answer comes before you can even think of the consequences.

“Please,” the word being your only verbal response before you rip your hand away from your body, your legs falling wider apart as an invitation. Your body jumps in protest as you deny yourself the orgasm that was slowly building, and Yangyang immediately jumps into action to compensate.

The first touch of his fingers is unsure, a hesitation in his muscles as he tries to convince himself that what’s happening is real. He isn’t sure what’s hotter to him in that moment, the way you whimper with a slight pout to your lips when he finally presses his digits to your swollen clit, or the way your eyes remain locked on the animated porn.

He’s battling between the two, when you show him something better. Your hand moves wildly in the air for only a moment, before you're pushing it under his arm. It doesn’t take you much exploring before you find where his hand slowly moves against his length. Your hand swats gently at his in a way that weirdly reminds him of the way you swat at him when he does something he’s not supposed to, and after his brain catches up with your motions, he lets go.

He thinks his heart probably stops when your hand wraps around him, your wrist immediately moving at the same pace as his fingers. His eyes slam shut for a second, a desperate attempt to hold off his orgasm, before they open slightly again.

He tries to do the same as you and keep his eyes trained on the video, and it works a few times, but as you gush and twitch against his unrelentingly moving fingers. He feels like one of his biggest fantasies has come to life in front of him, the whining sound of his name from your lips music to his ears.

You babble and squirm, your orgasm approaching you much faster than it has ever before. There’s something so jarring and new about the video that flashes in front of your eyes, and combining that with your best friend playing you not much differently than he’d played his game not long before made you feel like you were losing your grip on reality.

You’re vaguely aware that your hand flexes around his length, and fear that maybe your hold may be too rough immediately leaving your mind when you hear him let out a pleased groan. The sound also momentarily replaces the fear that filled you from actually looking at the boy that sits next to you, and you feel your head jerking to look at his face scrunched in pleasure.

The wind is knocked from your lungs when your eyes meet his again, neither of your stares faltering like you assumed they would. Instead the eye contact encourages you both, and you feel your hands pick up their pace.

You thank the universe for Yangyang’s reflexes as he finds no trouble in following your antsy jerking hips, his fingers never shifting away from your buzzing clit. He’s also completely unfazed as your thighs clamp around his wrist, and instead his now free hand moves to grab at your knee that’s closest to him, and pull harshly to hold your legs spread.

The angle his body is now turned leaves him leaning on his side, and he shows no hesitation to using the new position to his advantage as he begins thrusting his hips to fuck your fist.

You feel as if there’s another force around you that forces you to stare at one another, your hands and hips becoming frantic as you both inch closer and closer to your finish.

The video had ended moments before, but neither of you move to choose another. Too distracted by the other bodies, both of your breaths pick up right before the point of hyperventilating.

You feel yourself right on the edge, the beginning of your orgasm making your toes curl and your back arch off the back of the chair. Just from the stimulation on your clit, you can feel yourself falling, but when he notices that you’re starting to crumble, his fingers slip down until they push into you making you gasp loudly.

With his middle and ring finger pistoning in you at the same pace as his hips and the heel of his hand digging and rubbing into your clit, you finally start to come. If it wasn’t for his determined pace, your fluttering walls would push him out, but he fights against your body with a deep grunt as he curls the digits to pull against the nerve inside you that makes your eyes roll back into your skull.

With your mouth hanging open, silent moans and squeaking whimpers popping from your throat, he’s sure he stares at a defiled angel. He knew he always found you attractive, even more attractive when you first took his raunchy jokes in stride, but as you come so beautifully around his fingers, he decides you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

Just watching your come is enough to push him over the edge, but as it makes your muscles tense, your hand flexes and shakes as you hold him. With a few more pulses of his hips, he’s coming with his lip tucked between his teeth and his eyes trained on where you wrap around his fingers, your noise of surprise at the feeling of his come shooting across your hand only making his orgasm stronger.

With shaking legs, he falls back into his chair, his hand pulling from your sensitive skin, and his softening length slipping from your fingers.

Silence falls over the room, the only sound being the angry sound of his computer's fan and your evening breaths. You pull your limbs into your body as you try to get more comfortable in the seat, and as you try to wrap your arms around yourself, you notice the evidence of his orgasm that sticks to the side of your hand.

You’re moving before you can even think about your actions or how weird they could be to the boy next to you, your hand lifting up to your face and you tongue peaking out to lick at the sticky substance. You jerk slightly at the taste, but in a thought of self challenge and a simple ‘fuck it,’ you slide the flat of your tongue up the side of your hand, collecting everything he left behind, before swallowing deeply.

You hear a muffled sound of surprise to your side, the sound making your head whip to the side as you remembered your possible audience. Your heart beats fast as you panic at the idea of him finding your action gross, but as you look you see him in a very similar position.

Yangyang grins around his fingers that were once drenched in your orgasm, but now sit licked clean in his teasing mouth. There’s a slight popping noise as he pulls them hesitantly from his lips, and his devious smile only grows before he speaks.

“Oh so we’re both like gross, gross huh?”

#nct smut #wayv smut #yangyang smut #nct imagine #wayv imagine

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cayofdreams · 4 years ago

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I Can See It in Your Eyes

Summary: You’re a full-fledged cold-blooded villain, but Dabi suspects otherwise. And he knows just the way to get you to prove your loyalty…and your faith.

Words: 3.7k

Rating: 🌊 Explicit, Smut

Warnings: cursing, virginity (not very explicit), deep-throating, choking, heavy breath-play (receiving), asphyxiation, God complex, dark ending

Notes: Was supposed to just be a smutty angsty drabble to release some anger from the day. Oh well. Enjoy my rage~

You’d been a part of the League of Villains for the past 5 months now. It was a gradual process for your mind to go from being the ambitious, good-natured upcoming pro-hero, to a cold-hearted deviant that seemed to show no one an ounce of mercy.

And why should they deserve your mercy? It was their fault that you became who you were now.

You’d been kidnapped and kept as a ransom by the league, constantly tortured in hopes that the monetary demands would be filled. Their torture techniques becoming more sinister by the day.

But you put up with it, because you knew the light at the end of the tunnel was closer than it seemed.

Besides, it wasn’t even a lot of money. A measly $2.3 million dollars. Any rich pig could’ve came up with that to rescue such an admirable hero.

So you waited.

And waited.

Waiting for someone to answer the ransom to let you free, until one day Dabi came into the cell you were in, holding his phone. A dubious grin on his face, possibly signaling they had got the ransom they hoped for.

“Good news, little kitty. Would you like to hear it?”

Your eyes looked up expectantly at his bright blue ones. If this was the news you’d been waiting for, you’d probably call them the most angelic eyes you’d ever seen despite his more devilish appearance.

Dabi chuckled at your childish expression and without saying another word bent down to your eye-level and played the news clip on his phone. You excitedly looked at the news clip, finally, FINALLY you would be sav-

“BREAKING NEWS: RANSOM WILL NOT BE PAID FOR THE RELEASE OF H/N, PERSONALLY KNOWN AS L/N F/N”

“…wha…?”

Dabi’s chuckle turned into a sinister cackle as he watched your hopeful eyes change almost on cue, into a pair of almond-shaped pool of despair and confusion.

“Aren’t you happy? You get to stay with us forever, now.”

“No…no. That can’t be right…” You looked at Dabi as you still tried to latch onto hope that he had digitally manipulated the clip. “Go to another news channel! Do it! Please!”

Amused by your agony, he let you watch his fingers tap around on the screen, showing you all the different news sites saying a different variation of the same thing. He clicked on another video clip.

It was your old classmate Midoriya standing at a podium in front was what seemed like hundreds of reporters. All shouting questions at him. Finally, he picked one reporter to answer to.

“Deku! What do you say to the people who are outraged at the rejection of submitting to the League of Villains’ ransom? Don’t you think H/N’s life is important?”

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the audience with determination.

“It was a hard decision. But we have an integrity to keep as heroes. We will not give into measly demands by the same villains who’d burn us down at any chance! We are heroes! And we’ll keep looking and fighting for the return of H/N the best way we know! With dignity! It’s what she would want!”

Your eyes dazed over in apathy as you watched the No. 1 hero ultimately send you to your death.

Dignity? Integrity? Ha. What bullshit. Bullshit that probably took on the appearance of beautiful flower, but still smelled of shit all the same. How dare he pretend like letting you stay in this hell-hole was the honorable thing to do.

Dabi took the phone away from your eyesight, smiling maniacally at your dying resolve.

“I told you many times over these past couple weeks, kitten, that your heroism is nothing but a façade.”

You stayed silent as every emotion you developed as a normal human being in a society, became figments of destroyed past.

“Will you kill me?” Your eyes continued to look forlornly at the cold cement floor, ignoring the rats that would run over top your feet.

“Oh no, kitten. That would be a waste of an asset.” He brushed his fingers over your now sickly-looking skin, grasping your jaw so he could admire your new callous face expression. “You’ll be joining us for real now. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

You didn’t reply as he let go of your face to let it hang dejectedly from your shoulders.

“I’ll just let you sit here and think about it. I’m sure you’ll come around.”

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

As you sat on the torn, dusty couch you scrolled through your phone looking at what people were talking about on forums and the like about the League of Villains. It seemed as time grew on, more and more people were joining the league’s movement…your movement.

Good.

It was about time people got a wake up call on what was really going on in their so-called “hero” society. And they didn’t even have to get tortured to see it. How could you have been so oblivious all this time? You always thought the League of Villains and their supporters were a cult. A demented cult.

But you felt more accomplished here than you ever did “above ground”. After-all you were the hottest topic that people talked when it came to villains. There were always two distinct opinions when it came to your ultimate aligning with the league.

Those who said you were still in need of rescue, plagued with Stockholm syndrome.

And those who said that if someone like you could side with such a group, the League of Villains must not have been as evil as heroes portrayed.

You’d probably care about the public’s opinion of you if you had the emotions to engage in such a controversy. It seemed all feelings of love, hatred, sadness, happiness, and every other useless emotion left you the day that you saw Midoriya in that news clip.

That was for the better. You could focus now, on the important things.

As you read various articles on your screen, you heard a creaking on the floorboards. When you looked over you saw your ally Dabi standing by the hallway.

“You’re up early, Dabi.”

“I could say the same to you, kitten.” He came over and sat by you on the couch. You’d grown used to his ghastly appearance, now admiring his scars from an aesthetic point of view.

You used to wonder what he thought of his scars. How he got them. But those feelings of curiosity would dissipate as the cold-bloodedness in you took over more and more.

“Anything new?”

“Other than our growing number of supporters, not much. Before long, heroes will be a thing of the past.”

He snickered at you. “You say that like you mean it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dabi moved closer to you, his cerulean meeting your e/c once again. “You think I don’t see it?”

You stayed quiet, wondering what he could possibly be accusing you of.

“I know you still check the news in hopes that your hero, Deku has discovered new leads on your location.”

You laughed at his absurdity. “You’re delusional, Dabi.” Your eyes went back to looking at your phone. “Perhaps you should go back to bed, you’re obviously still tired from your atrocities of the night before.”

“Perhaps. But I don’t think those atrocities are affecting my eyesight.”

When you looked back up at him, he had pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. A photograph to be exact. “What’s that?”

“You tell me, kitten.” He upheld the photo to your face and your eyes widened at the picture depicted.

It was an old photo of you and Midoriya after getting ice cream together. He had looked so cute with melted cream all over his cheeks so you snapped a photo of the both of you. It was a photo you kept in your costume all the time. Your old costume, that is.

“That proves nothing but the fact you ravaged my costume during my capture.”

“You’d have a point if I didn’t just find it under your mattress.” He crinkled the paper up in his hands. “You still think about your little crush?”

You squinted your eyes at him. How could he think that? You despised Midoriya and everything he ever stood for. If there was even a twinkling of emotion left in you, it would surely be hatred. “You’re pissing me off, now.”

“Oh so you do feel things? Then you won’t mind if I…” A flash of blue flame appeared on his hand, burning the crinkled paper in a matter of seconds. Unconsciously your eyebrows had lowered in a saddened expression.

“See there? I can see it in your eyes, kitten.”

Your face became deadpan again as you stood up from the couch. “If you’re going to continue with these erroneous allegations, I’ll be going for a walk.”

Before you could turn away, he grabbed you by the shoulder making you look back at him confusingly. His hand slowly moved up to your neck, fingers gripping tightly around your throat. The heat of his quirk slightly stinging your tender flesh, but you didn’t move.

“I’ll kill you, you know? Turn you into a little charred kitten.” He turned up the heat and you twinged at the increasing sting. “No one would be able to tell how pretty your face was. I’d make sure of it.”

You thought carefully on your next words. You trusted and gained the trust of everyone in the league, but that didn’t mean they weren’t deranged sociopaths. Your bond with them, while apparent, was still the weakest due to them knowing each other longer, and your lack of emotions making it difficult to form deeper relationships.

“What do you want, Dabi?” As you looked impassively into cerulean eyes, you felt his thumb move smoothly over your bottom lip before sticking it in between your lip and teeth, rubbing along your gums. A laugh escaped as you realized his intentions with you. “So this is what its about? Ridiculous.”

“I don’t think there’s anything ridiculous with confirming the loyalty of the maniacs I have to be around.” He took his other hand and slipped it under your skirt to grip the side of your panties before heating them to ash. “I want what I’ve been asking of you for a long time, kitten.”

He pressed his warm fingers around your vulva and slowly circled your folds. The heat adding an indescribable pleasure. A small moan escaped from your lips. “...If I do this with you, you’ll never mention my shitty past again.”

“Deal”

Immediately you pushed him off you before gripping him tightly by the collar of his shirt, dragging him down on the couch. You crouched down on the couch with him with your head by his crotch, roughly palming him over his pants. “I don’t plan on dragging this out, I have actual duties to attend to.”

“Then you better work hard, kitten” His freakishly villainous grin teased you, knowing this was your first time being intimate with someone before. He probably thought you were going to be some shy scared girl who didn’t know the first thing about sex. But you’d prove him wrong.

You took the zipper of his pants and briskly pulled it down. Pulling his pants and boxers down, you were presented with a perfectly intact, flaccid cock. He chuckled at your hesitation.

“I told you you’d have to work hard.”

Ignoring his comment, you took his cock in his hands before shoving it in your mouth. It was softer than your tongue, and a bit cool compared to the feelings of Dabi’s hands on you earlier. Perhaps he wanted to feel 100% of the warmth from your mouth.

As you began sucking, you felt your mouth feel fuller and fuller. A part of you feeling a bit accomplished at arousing your sinister ally, another apart a bit worried at how you were going to take any more of his cock in your mouth. You started to use your hands to stroke the part of his shaft that you couldn’t handle. Dabi glided his fingers through your hair before gripping your locks.

“You need some help with that, kitten?” His calm suggestion not matching the force of his hands on your head, forcing you to suddenly take all of his cock down your throat. You gagged and spat up whatever saliva you could to keep from choking. Your gargling noises arousing Dabi even more, making your throat feel even more constricted.

“Now, don’t worry. I’ll do the work since its your first time.” Still having your cock in your throat, he sat up so that one of his knees was between your thighs, digging into the couch, while his other leg stood on the floor for stabilization. The strong grip on your hair maneuvered you to sit on your ass as he slowly worked his cock in and out of your throat. “But next time, I’ll expect you to service me on your own.”

Before you could protest his suggestion of a second time, he thrusted his hips vigorously towards your face. You reached your hands up to grip the hem of his shirt trying to stabilize yourself, but it was impossible with how ruthless he was going. You started struggling to breathe and tried pulling on his shirt to get him to stop. But it was to no avail.

“Just breathe through your nose…and stick your tongue out..oh fuck yeah- that feels so good, kitten.” Dabi shoved your face into his hips so that your nose was firmly pressed against his pelvis and paused. “Look up at me.”

He could cum instantly from the look you were giving him right now. It wasn’t apathy. Nor seduction. It was the look you gave him when you were pleading for him to find a different news source. When you were still caged up and begging for the news to be a lie. He found amusement in your change to apathy, but deep inside he wanted to see those eyes again. Those eyes that looked at him like a God. Those e/c eyes that portrayed-

Desperation.

That’s right. He craved seeing the desperation in your eyes once more. And right now, he was bathing in it. You looked so fucking adorable like that. The cold, murderous Y/N choking on his cock, begging for air. He contemplated leaving you like this. Letting you suffocate on his cock. It’s the death a true slut like you deserved. But he wouldn’t be able to pet his little kitten anymore so he decided to let up.

With your hair imprisoned between his fingers, he jerked you away from his hips. You inhaled a strong amount of air, so much so you coughed at the copious amount of saliva that went down your wind pipe. But he shouldn’t let you get too comfortable, he needed his God complex to be fulfilled once more.

So before you could even get 3 full breaths in, Dabi quickly shoved his cock down your esophagus once more. Your desperation to breathe made the walls of your throat convulse rapidly around his cock. He moved your head vigorously back and forth down his length.

“Oh fuck, kitten...you look- you look so fucking good chocking on my cock like that...”

You whined at his voice, not exactly knowing what he said because you were too concerned with not dying the most embarrassing death.

The vibrations of your whine rumbled beautifully around his shaft.“You d-don’t actually wanna stop, do you? Y-you want to die on my cock don’t you, kitten.” He moved his hips at an insane amount of speed, now chasing his orgasm. “I’ll grant that to you…just hold on. Y-You can choke on all this fucking cum, Y/N!”

Before long you felt hot spurts of thick liquid running down your throat. You coughed viciously around his cock, trying not to choke on his seed. Your coughing making his cock twitch even more as he released his seed down your pulsating windpipe. You grabbed desperately at his shirt, trying to get him to spare you.

Once he was properly drained, he jerked your head off him with enough force for you to fall back on the couch. You violently tried to cough up whatever of his thick cum that you could. You’d probably feel lumps of it in your throat for days.

“*cough!* *cough!* D-dabi! You f-fucking *cough!* psychopath!” You looked angrily at him as your hands pressed tightly to your chest as you kept choking and gasping for air.

“I’m sorry, kitten. You just looked so cute with your throat gagging around my cock like that.” Dabi slopped back down on the couch. Now in better view of your body, he couldn’t help noticing your glistening pussy, shining with arousal. He cackled at your shameless masochism. “Apparently you agreed.”

“What- Hey, wait!” Dabi grabbed a hold of your thighs and pulled you so that your pussy was aligned with his cock. “Again?!”

“If there’s one thing that I can appreciate with my bloodline, kitten, it’s our insatiable urge to spill our fertile seed into available holes.” He rubbed his tip along your folds, gathering your wetness, before slapping it on your clit. The feeling making your pussy twitch on the head of his cock. You shut your eyes, not believing how much you craved for him to be inside you.

Dabi took your jaw into a tight grip and your face clenched at the pressure. “Open your eyes, Y/N”.

Slowly opening them, you peered into a gleaming light of blue. You never really took notice of his eyes before, but for some reason they were reminding you of your past. The nostalgia quickly vanished as quickly as they came as your desires overflooded your mind.

Why was he looking at you like this? Wasn’t he going to stick it in? You hated to admit that you started to get-

“That’s it, kitten…that’s the look I want.” He took other hand to slowly press the tip of his cock inside you. “You’re desperate for it aren’t you?”

You grabbed at his pants, pulling so that you could get him fill you up entirely . “Yeah..I am”.

Grinning at your lewd acceptance, he inserted the entirety of his cock inside you. The tightness of this being your pussy’s first cock made him feel even more in power. He was the only one that could make you so desperate. The only one that could give you what you needed. And he’d prove that to you right now.

Your moans at the feeling of Dabi inside you were cut short when he wrapped his hand around your throat. “Let’s keep playing, kitten.”

Your face went from being pleasured to startled as he tightened the grip at your throat. At the same time, he began to plunge deeply in and out your rigid walls. The heat from his hands stung at your throat and you became intoxicated with the mix of sensations. You didn’t know which feeling overpowered which between pleasure and pain, so you just focused on the azure of Dabi’s eyes and let your body do the thinking.

“I s-should’ve fucking claimed you- a long time ago, Y/N.” Dabi took his free hand down to your clit and made slow but heated circles around the bud. “I’m the only one who can get you so desperate-“. Your walls twitched as you tried to gasp for oxygen. Failing, as Dabi only continued to suffocate you beneath his heated palms. “And I’m the only one who can satisfy that desperation.” Your pussy hysterically quivered around Dabi as your lack of oxygen prevailed and your orgasm approached.

“I can feel you about to cum, Y/N.” His thrusts becoming frantic as he neared his second high. “Say my fucking name…call me your God.”

He needed to hear you say it. After-all he was the one who was clearly in control of your life and death. He was the one who captured you and gave you the bare minimum amount of food to keep you live. He was the one who convinced Shigaraki to not turn you into a grave of ashes when your precious heroes left you to die. And he was the one right now keeping you on the verge of the plane between this world and the spirit one.

He was your God.

Dabi slightly loosened the grip on your throat.

“G-god…D..abi-..sa-ma…”

He tightened around your throat again, satisfied at your new-found faith. You felt yourself practically about to drift out of consciousness, the once again suspension of your air supply having you see faint stars around Dabi’s head.

The tight pressure in your stomach became unbearable and your body was overwhelmed at the two opposing forces that claimed you. The life of an orgasm, and the death of asphyxiation. You supposed the orgasm would come first as you squirmed and contorted like a fish underneath Dabi’s hands. If this was how you’re gonna die, at least it was while chasing the most intense pleasure life had to offer to humans.

Your seemingly lifeless face paired with the lively palpitations of your pussy was sending Dabi over the edge. “Y/N…Shit! Y-your face says you’re dead…but y-your pussy is still fucking fighting…Fuck!” As he finally came for the second time, he released his milky fluids inside you. If you were conscious, you’d probably note how the cum spurting in your womb wasn’t as thick as the lumps that still nestled along the walls of your esophagus.

Finally releasing his hold on you, Dabi slumped on top of your motionless body.

“…Still breathing huh, kitten..”

Letting himself fall into a slumber, a whirlwind of thoughts encapsulated his mind.

He thought about how the allowing of your freedom to officially join the League of Villains might’ve been a mistake. You being free didn’t suit you.

No.

You’d go back in the cell. Where you’d pray to him to let you out…or to simply give you water.

Every time you’d be allowed the blessing of seeing his face, you’d be desperate for him to not leave.

To stay with you.

But he’d walk out your cell again for who knows how long…just to hear your desperate wails and begging as he locked the cell door again.

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi smut #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #my hero academia #my hero academia smut #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia smut #cayfanfic #cayofdreams

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goldafterglow · 4 years ago

Text

hold me in the meadows

Summary: You are Ezra’s dreamcatcher and he is your burrow.

Request: “The sleepy prompts!! Lovely! Can you do “I have had nightmares every night for the past three weeks and now they’re gone because of you, how did you do that?” with (can you guess??) EZRA” - the love of my life, @opheliaelysia

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k+

Tags: angst?, fluff, more metaphors that don’t mean anything, weird touching lol idk what the fuck this fic is, this is also not beta read so send the flood send the flu

Author’s Note: If you left a like or comment or reblog on Dissolve Me I’m telling you with as little shame as is humanly possible that I definitely reread it at least 3 times. Feedback means the word to me! also this was supposed to be a 500 word drabble and now it’s over 4.5k words if that tells you anything about me. I apologize in advance I think I’ve really outdone myself w/ my bullshit this time

Gif Credit: @pascvl; Also shout out to @pascalplease sorry I spammed you for nothing dsfgdsg

Ezra is staring at you.

He’d met you on one of those toxic moons, one of those deceitfully picturesque mirages where the dust glitters like lily petals but the air would kill you before you could think to appreciate it. You were a floater; a nomad with no place to call home, but you figured you liked it that way. Homes were permanent. They set lives and futures in cobblestone and trapped spirits in gated properties, keeping just about anything and everything tethered under the farce of security. Homes make paraffin casings around dragonfly wings and turn footprints to concrete. So you never had one, and you never wanted one. Ezra had found you amusing. You had found him to be better company than just yourself. So with great reluctance, you established a partnership. Not one forged in steel or bronze but something still fleeting, its true meaning always escaping your lips like a forgotten thought. It’s too much work to try and think about it anyway.

You had let him invite you to reside in his tent. It took coaxing, required copious amounts of golden honey spilling from Ezra’s tongue to get you to tenaciously stick to him, but you were no match for his silver tongue. He did everything he could to assure that this wasn’t a habitat, but merely a shelter - a thing that could be taken down and built back up somewhere else, anywhere you wanted. So you had obliged. He let you take the cot closest to the zipper door; you liked being closer to the exit, just a rotation away from being back on your feet. He tries to let you truly feel like if you wanted to escape, wanted to elope with liberty and run away from the loose bonds of the canopy, you could.

Three weeks of sleeping adjacent to him and you still don’t want to.

Ezra is used to temporary relationships. He has done his fair share of companion hopping, although he wasn’t really making an effort to do so. It scares him a little - why can’t he make anyone stay, make anything last? Partners passed him by, either to traverse on their lonesome or to stay with that greedy man in the eternal sky. Teams disbanded around him like glass castles shattering in his wake. Ezra, whether he liked it or not, was accustomed to transience.

He is not, however, accustomed to fearing that sharp brevity. Ezra is constantly on his toes around you, frequently wondering if he’s pushing you away or pulling you closer. You aren’t skittish, don’t constantly question everything he says or get offended by the sound of his voice, but he’s still scared of losing you. Every time he looks into your eyes he sees wonder, a certain fascination with life that he tries so hard to match because he wants to find things as beautiful as you do. As beautiful as you are. He wants to mis-quote your favorite novels that you force him to read so that you’ll scold him so affectionately and tell him that perhaps he had garnered a little brain damage from his previous escapades. He wants to trip over tree roots that have herniated through the soil so you can laugh at him, maybe lay there on the grass with him for a little bit. Just a little bit.

In your own mind, you are guarded. You try your very best not to get too personal, too deep, too much. Because you don’t like it when people can see your flushed, bloody insides. You just know that the moment you open your chest, someone will steal your heart right out of your rib cage and like the pass of a hummingbird, all of your secrets will be free to float in the breeze like the ashes of your lost quintessence; it’ll all be gone and then you’ll really be empty. So how could you ever know what you mean to Ezra?

He knows what a truly locked up person looks like. He’s spent hundreds of cycles with people that don’t make a noise. He’s sat in bustling pods of people and felt like the only man in the room, like solitary confinement for his mind. No, you are not some warning-covered steel box, padlocked and duct-taped and glued shut so that even if he’s sitting right next to you, he’ll have nothing more than his own voice bounce to off of your walls and fly right back to him. You’re a music box, a gold-trimmed heart-shaped sound bottle, and he learns that if he winds you up the right way, you’ll sing so pretty for him.

He has spent so long talking, nonsensically making those arbitrary noises burst out of his throat until they lose all meaning, but finally, for the first time in so fucking long, Ezra gets to listen.

He listens to you tell him you think his hair is stupid and that sometimes he smells bad. He listens to you lament about barren dig-sites and wasted time, about how it’s so fucking hot in your suit. He listens to you fantasize about touching the trees, burying your face in your flowers and squeezing the moss in your hands. About drowning in the river so that your body is filled with the water and then rolling in the sand so that it all sticks to you and you have to dive back in to clean off. About feeling something.

Sometimes, Ezra just wants to hear something other than his own voice. And you’re the cold towel to his inflamed skin, refreshing and addictive. You’re much braver than you think, so much stronger than you give yourself credit for, because for once, Ezra can talk into the forest and know that there’s someone to listen besides the leaves. He doesn’t feel alone.

Every night, when the moon has turned its back on the narcissistic Sun and opened its arms to the thousands of other stars, each just a prick of light but understanding of their place in the tapestry of the darkness, the two of you retire to that tent. You both redress into comfortable clothes, backs turned on each other under the guise of respect, and climb into your respective cots. Ezra would turn off that shitty lantern that illuminated the enclosure, and your shadows would dissipate into the darkness.

Except Ezra’s shadows don’t disappear; they hide. They blend into the black and mold into one man-engulfing untamable beast to possess Ezra’s throat. And they manifest again in his mind. They poison that movie that plays once you slip consciousness, instills fear into his bone marrow until he doesn’t feel safe in his own body, his own thoughts.

These slumber illusions haunt Ezra. His right arm waves at him in his sleep, the souls to which he was the conduit bridging life and death haunt his diaphragm with toothy grins to mock him, screeching into his cavities. They remind him that he was never really alone because he has the suffocating embrace of those spirits that are sewn so tight to his eyelids. Every night he somehow manages to pull himself from the darkness only for his own demons to pull him back by the throat. He is always oscillating between consciousness and unconsciousness, being tossed around like a helpless rag with no hope of liberation. Nothing scares him more than his own thoughts.

And you know. You know all of it. How could you not? You were born a tumbleweed, wandering across desolation, so of course you’re a light sleeper. And you can hear Ezra’s choked cries, his tossing and turning as he drains himself of any sense of safety. But this man is a stranger to you. He is just a person you reside with, talk to all the time, nudge gently and tease and smile with. He is just the person that you wake up wanting to see, whose attention you always crave. A stranger.

So every night you turn your body to face the zipper of the tent and pretend that you can’t hear him cry. Pretend that you don’t sometimes cry with him. A pretty lavender lie that smells sweet, tastes sweeter.

You, in your cowardice, let him destroy himself. Watch as the bags under his eyes get bigger and greyer and the strings holding his shoulders up lose their tension.

Ezra, in his flawed cratered embodiment, is only human. And he had gone so long without holding anyone, without being held. He knows what he wants, knows who he wants. But he also knows how jittery you are, how fluttery your heart is, and he doesn’t want to approach it too fast lest he startle you and you fly off into the stars. But he can’t keep doing this, can’t live with himself when he knows he’s not the one in control but those horned, slimy creatures that claw at his maxilla with their venomous grins.

The lights are out in the tent per usual, so Ezra can’t really see you. His careful eyes can trace the outline of the curves of your body - or is it that his delusional eyes are envisioning some arbitrary glow around you, convincing him that what he’s seeing is real? Reality is a concept with which he is no longer familiar.

You, laying in your cot, decide that you just can’t take it anymore. You can’t stand to let this intruder of your life break you down the way he is without even trying. How dare he look into you, how dare he listen to you without passing judgement, how fucking dare he make you feel like a flower in bloom?

Ezra hears your breaths - they’re uneven. You haven’t gone to sleep. What are you waiting for?

“Ezra?” you practically squeak into the void. His ears perk up immediately; your cotton candy voice is enticing to him, flossing its way through his veins.

“What are you doing up, birdie?” Ezra asks softly, the air of his lungs floating on top of his words. He doesn’t mean to keep you awake, but he isn’t mad that you are. It’s stimulating his nerves enough to keep himself awake, and that’s something he probably won’t ever be able to repay you for.

“I-um….” Shit. You hadn’t expected to get this far. What would you say to him? How could you tell him that you wanted to help cleanse him, that you wanted to grovel in lime-coated thumb tacks with him and absorb his pain into your tissue paper skin? “I can’t sleep.”

Not a lie. Ezra knows you mean it. He just doesn’t know why.

“Well that won’t suffice,” he decides, outstretching his left arm blindly off the edge of his cot until his fingers brush against what he’s looking for: that goddamn lantern. With a little more fumbling, a weak but good enough orange glow is emitted on the floor between the two of you. You both catch each other’s pitiful gaze. You want to take care of each other, want to shield each other from the red sprites that nip angrily at each other’s hearts. Ezra holds his left arm out to you, tentatively. He’s never been more unsure in his life. He watches you glance at his arm, and then quickly to the side. You’re trying to decide if you’ll let him add another tether to you. If you’ll let him become something sewed so tight to your bleeding skin that to leave would rip you apart.

You slowly get up and walk over to his cot.

Ezra lets out a soft breath and his lips turn to a soft smile. He’s soft.

“C’mere, dandelion” he mumbles to you, and he hasn’t missed his right arm so much as in this moment. He wants to hold you properly, wants to keep you as close to him as possible. You’re hesitant, and he can tell. You’ve never been this close to him before, and you want to savor it. When your head finally touches his shoulder, it’s like a catalyst ignites underneath the two of you. You mold into each other the way the gods intended, like lake water seeping into the smallest of crevices of an empty river bed. Like the opposing poles of two magnets, like a key penetrating a lock. Like you were made for each other. Your arms immediately wrap around him, his neck now a fixture of your body, and his arm leads you to lay down on the cot. Without words, without that candid discourse that Ezra was so fond of, his face is buried into the warmth of your chest and he feels like you’ve cast an ethereal shield around him.

Ezra doesn’t need to hold you tight because you’re holding him tighter, like you’re trying to cling to something invisible and foreign before it can even think to leave you. Before it realizes that it doesn’t want you. Don’t leave. He can feel you breathe him in, face smashed against his wild hair, and he can’t blame you because he’s breathing you in too.

“Sweetheart-” he breathes, fanning against your skin in a way that sends a deep shiver down your spine and shakes your shoulders.

“Shh.” And for once in his cursed life, he’s speechless. There’s so much, too much that he wants to say to you, but his mind is shouting all of it at him at once and he doesn’t even know where to start. So he shuts the fuck up. He feels you. He feels your heat melt him until he can barely control his own muscles because they’ve gone limp, unable to perform a single contraction because his fibers are relaxed, are at peace.

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep.

When Ezra wakes, you’re still sweet and motionless around him. The lamp was still on, still shining pathetically on the ground. He doesn’t feel the need to look around or squeeze his lids closed in an attempt to wring the bad rest out of him.

Rest?

He thinks fucking hard. When had he woken up last night? When had his banshees infiltrated his thoughts and cried into the void of his packed mind? All he can recall are caramel dreams, whipped cream clouds and berry trampolines for him to jump high into the cotton candy sky. He thinks he might like it that way. Maybe every night can be like that, every morning can feel this transcendent.

He hears you moan quietly as you stir not long after him, breaths shuddering on their way out of your nose as you slowly come to your senses.

“Good morning, birdie,” Ezra finally says. He doesn’t know what to say to you, what he can say to you, without making you flip a switch and realize that it’s all a mistake, that he is a mistake. His eardrums smile as your sleepy whining settles.

“Morning, Ezra,” you whisper, throat not ready to talk yet. It’s okay; you’d rather hear him talk to you anyway.

“Did you…were you able to achieve some sort of comfort?” Ezra asks. For a second you’re confused until you remember what you’d told him last night, and you realize that you’re holding him the same way you were when you’d gone to sleep. He hadn’t woken up.

“Yeah, Ezra,” you finally say after letting yourself simmer in the silence for a second. “Thank you.”

He smiles wide against your skin, the blunt tip of his excitement the battering ram that beats against his racing heart. He’s given you something worthy of your gratefulness, and the feeling of being worthy light his chest with blue flames.

“It’s not my intention to blow you away, dandelion,” Ezra says, his nerves manifesting into his characteristic breathy laughs, “but I can’t deny how direly I want to just touch you.” You feel the air get knocked out of you as your diaphragm begins to spasm; what is he asking? You’ve thought about it before; god, of course you’ve thought about it before. To lay back as you let him study you, memorize you and then let you do the same. Analyze the sculpted marble of his body to remind yourself why you love it so much.

“Please.”

It’s barely a whisper, a secret told to the wind, but Ezra hears you. Ezra always hears you.

So Ezra’s fingers begin to wander along your skin. He wants to map out the scars on your body, wants to learn the shape of you so intimately that he could remodel you if he wanted to. He wants to know your body the way he knows when you’re disappointed or frustrated or amazed or confused. He wants to just know.

You feel the calloused pads of Ezra’s fingers put a little pressure onto that dip of your thoracic vertebrae, draw circles above your hip right under the fabric of your sweatshirt, caress your shoulder. He’s slowly exposing your skin to the humid chill of the dank enclosure, carefully making your top cover less and less of you, but you’ve never felt warmer.

As Ezra’s mind begins to really warm up and the cogs begin to grease themselves, his words begin to flow out the way you’re used to. The way you’ve learned to love.

“Sweetheart, I have had nightmares every night for the past three weeks and now they’re gone,” he blurts. Fuck. His hand stutters against the small of your back. He’s done it now, he’s really gone and blown it, because now you know he’s fucking broken and you’re smart enough to know when to avoid damaged goods. You have to know that if you were to take your hands and try and feel him you’d just get bumps and ridges and cracks. But Ezra is selfish, can’t help himself or his thoughts, so he keeps rambling. “It is not my intention to come off as presumptuous, but I just know it’s because of you. How did you do that, birdie? You never told me you were sent to me as a dreamcatcher.”

You can’t help but smile into his scalp a little at his words. You didn’t mind taking all of his bad dreams and refracting them far away into the space between the stars for him. A light, breathy laugh rolls off your tongue like a huff, because fuck, if you were going to be embroidered to something it might as well be him.

Your breath hitches again as the back of his hand runs flat along your stomach. It travels back around and up to the nape of your neck, tracing your shoulders and then over to your clavicles, paying close attention to the dips. You can’t help but wonder if this means as much to him as it does to you; it means everything to you.

“You’re right. I’ve been holding out on you all this time,” you say, and he can hear you smile through the roses of your words. He slowly and with purpose lifts his head from your embrace so that he can look up at you, maybe even catch a glimpse of that pretty grin of yours and burn it onto his lenses.

“I’m not confident that you’ll ever know how fortuitous I was the day I met you.” Ezra’s voice is low as he speaks, his drawl stretching and fraying the ends of his words, and you soak in every last syllable. You soak in the meaning of his words. He feels lucky to have you.

You look down at him, bringing a hand to run through his hair. That stupid blonde streak snatches your attention for a moment and you thumb at the strands. You want to tease him about it, mock him a little, but you don’t. The moon marine in your arms holds so much unbridled beauty, and it’s all yours to look at.

Ezra is all yours to look at.

Ezra’s hand travels up to your face, cupping your cheek while his thumb toys with the corner of your mouth in a way that makes you bite your lip through a smile. Throwing all caution to the wind, you turn your head and press a shy kiss to the heel of his palm. Ezra’s skin burns where you’ve sanctified him. His hand begins to crave your touch in other ways, he is craving something more from you, but he knows he does far too much taking. He’s already taken so much from you, has already stolen so many moments from you out of sheer gluttony, but it’s not always his fault because you’re so giving. He knows you were a little hollow from the start, knows you were a little frayed in the first place, but still you share your thoughts and companionship with him because whether you know it or not, you’re a little taken by this space mutineer. If you fled this little thing you’ve built with him, you’d be leaving the prettiest parts of yourself behind for him to keep taking care of the way a mother makes her son’s bed after he leaves for college because what if you want to come back?

But you haven’t left, haven’t abandoned him and in turn, yourself. You’re right here, letting him bask in your reverent lavender radiation, and as he looks at how you’re giving off your own intrinsic glow because the shitty orange light on the ground isn’t enough, he knows he hasn’t earned it. He doesn’t think this is a very fair transaction at all, but he’s too selfish to stop you from paying a little extra. You’ll let him keep the change.

Ezra wordlessly lifts his head, nosing at your wrist so that you’ll bring it lower and let him kiss the delicate skin there. He looks up at you with wide, eager eyes of adoration. His feelings for you are beginning to bubble underneath the surface of his silk-lined thoughts and he is willing them to stay at that low simmer because he doesn’t want to think about anything except how fucking gorgeous you look in the lamplight.

“I’m growing rather fond of the way you feel against me,” Ezra finally says. Everything is so foreign now, so new, so he tries to do the one thing you both know, the one routine you can both dance without needing to think about it: talking.

“I like it too Ezra,” you giggle. Not a long, flittery one, but a pass of air with a note under it. You’re a little nervous too.

“I reckon I could get accustomed to this,” he whispers. Your lip betrays you, curling itself to reveal your reply before you even say it. Your teeth capture your lower lip for the act of treason, but it’s too late. “But I’d just hate it if I made you feel like you’re bearing my baggage.”

“Ezra, you don’t have crippling baggage,” you insist. What is this man talking about? You were the one with issues. You were the one that had to be convinced to stay with him, you were the one that insisted on the right cot, you were the real coward here. You were broken. “Everyone has their demons. There is so much more inside of you. You’re so full.”

Ezra’s eyes go a little wide at your words. You didn’t think he was half a man? Some incomplete mosaic that would never find his missing pieces?

“You flatter me,” he chuckles; no, he giggles.

“Well…I just figured there’s no way a broken man could handle his broken partner the way you deal with me.” His expression melts into something more than pity and less than ignorance - confusion. The tap in Ezra’s tongue pops loose and his words begin to cascade from his lips like some majestic phenomenon, like holy water spraying the filth off of your brow.

“I need you to look at me, firefly.” His voice is more stern now, his words more articulate as he shifts up the bed slightly so that he’s eye level with you. He’s still on his side, his left hand is still gripping the flesh at your hip. “I don’t think you’ll ever truly comprehend how much you’ve done for me these past cycles, but this life is quiet and toilsome. You’re capable of recognizing beauty in things I wouldn’t have even taken note of in the first place, and I hang onto your every utterance whether you’re aware or not. It’s easy for me to sit here and tell you how bad I always want you because you fill my thoughts, pretty dandelion. And if someone came here and regurgitated your exact words to me, it still wouldn’t hold a candle to the way you sing when you wonder out loud. I don’t need to ‘deal’ with you, sweet rose. I want you.”

Your lip quivers a little; you know Ezra likes talking to you, he’s told you before. But you couldn’t help but assume Ezra just likes talking, period. That he liked having you around about as much as he’d enjoy the company of any other talker. To think that someone wants you, your passions and afterthoughts and pondering notions, meant more than anything you could articulate.

“Ezra-” you start, but you cut yourself off. You want to let his words turn into condensation on your skin, to form little rain clouds above your head so that they pour back down on you in delicate drops. You want to let him linger, to sit and hang above you like the sky hangs above the ocean.

You look straight at him, deep into his inquiring brown eyes as you both begin to breathe the same air, scents mingling between you like the heat between two stars. His nose is right up against yours and you can feel his lashes caress your cheekbone. He’s so close, but you want him closer, need him to move his hand or blink his eyes or do something, because you can’t take the nothingness anymore when you’ve got everything pressed right up against your face.

Ezra decides he wants one last thing from you.

“My rose, I don’t want to ask too much of you, but I suppose if that were true I wouldn’t have invited you to stay with me anyway. In the tent, of course. Not the cot.” Fuck, what was he saying? He lets out a soft laugh as he tries to reorganize his thoughts, a blushing mess under your gaze because he’s so used to knowing exactly how to get what he wants, but he’s really pushing your boundaries and bending your fence posts now. You’re turning him into a man who fumbles, a man who doesn’t always have to know what he’s about to say, and he doesn’t mind being a little less talk around you and a lot more touch.

Suddenly, he’s reminded of what he wanted to ask you.

“Sweet creature, could I kiss you?”

You don’t miss a beat in this soft ballad you’re playing with him, letting out a gentle “yeah, Ezra.”

You don’t like homes, don’t like to be told that you’re forever nailed to walls and wood. But maybe, as Ezra’s scruffy chin leans up to slot his lips against yours, you could build a tent in him. Maybe this leaky soul was your permanent, your unyielding, your perpetual.

As Ezra tilts his head towards you with a soft moan so he can kiss you the way you deserve, speak to you through the blinding sensation of his mouth telling you how he wants you, needs you, loves you, without using a single word, he is confident that his hollow cavities are beginning to be filled by your amber essence. He can tell you’re letting yourself finally take root in him, clearing out the wretched foliage so that you can curl up in the meadow of his soul and rest your bones within him.

Yeah.

You’re home.

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#ezra x reader #ezra (prospect)#ezra prospect x reader #angst #sleepy prompts #pedro pascal #fluff #this was for what?#this was supposed to be so short #so quick #i spent the whole entire day writing this #does it make sense?#of course not #does it ever?#same answer #not gonna ask anymore of these requests #clearly I don't know how to control myself sksdfjgf

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lykegenia · 4 years ago

Text

Trust, But Verify

Convinced that Unit Bravo isn't everything they seem to be, Detective Leah Kingston decides to return to the warehouse that she knows plays some part in the mystery of Wayhaven's first murder in years, this time with Tina as backup. But sometimes, what is said on patrol doesn't stay on patrol, which isn't great when the subject of conversation is a certain new arrival with a dazzling smile and warm brown eyes.

Read on AO3

The air in the office holds a studied silence, from the members of Unit Bravo who have arranged themselves around the room like they’re on a photoshoot, and from me ignoring them so I can finish updating the board with information about the case. There’s precious little to go on so far. Adam called it a waste of time, but working as a teammeans everybody needs to be on the same page, and now I can feel a certain amount of spite creeping into the thoroughness of my notes.

I can’t afford to let it. Getting bull-headed means things get missed.

“What information can you give me about the other victims?” I ask.

“Nothing that will help us here.”

Nate passes a guilty glance between me and his glowering leader, but all it does is get me even angrier. Folding my arms, I turn to Adam, temper finally frayed enough to let my professional veneer slip.

“Did my mother send you to sabotage my case?” I demand. I shouldn’t, but today has not been a good day.

Adam glares. Somehow, the silence in the room deepens.

“I’m only asking because so far you seem to be trying your hardest to seem incompetent and uncaring about the fact that a woman has been murdered. If you can’t show even basic respect for that then you can get the hell out of my office and not come back.”

“Detective…”

“Are you here to help or not?” I’ve dealt with Saturday night drunks and middle managers angry at getting parking tickets – hell, I’ve had to face the mayor’s bluster more than once – and though Adam looks like he knows more ways to break someone’s bones than any of those guys, I’m willing to bet he’s on a much shorter leash.

Finally, the muscles working in that square jaw unclench just enough for him to loose a strained breath through his teeth. “We’re at your disposal.”

“Glad to hear it.” My shoulders relax a little. “The better we work together, the faster we’ll solve this, and unfortunately all the legwork has to come first.”

Nate steps forward, visibly relieved that we haven’t come to blows. “What do you want us to do?”

“We need to trace the victim’s last steps,” I say. Coming up with a plan gives me something to focus on. “Bank records, phone records, CCTV. If we can find out where and when she met the killer, hopefully we can follow the thread back to them. Someone should ask Verda if there’s any way to track down the equipment the killer needed for the transfusion, too,” I add.

“Anything else?” Mason drawls from his corner. He’s started on another cigarette.

“Nate very kindly said you’d all go and check out the Farris warehouse later. We think it might be the murder site.” I don’t miss the look Adam shoots across the room, but it’s not important. “Be careful when you do, when I was there yesterday I ran into some unsavoury characters.”

“Really?” Felix asks, grinning. “If we see them I’m sure we could take them.”

Nate rolls his eyes and Adam grinds his teeth again, and neither of them are doing anything to soothe the off vibes I’ve been getting all morning.

“Glad to hear it,” I reply, turning to grab my coat off the peg. “While you’re on that, there’s something else I want to chase up.”

“What something else?” Adam asks, his eyes narrowing as if he can hear the uneasy tick of my pulse.

I shrug, already half out the door. “I’ll let you know if it pans out.”

“One of us should go with you.”

“Thanks for the offer, but Tina and I will be fine – Tina! Fieldtrip!”

She looks up from the papers on her desk and gestures to the steaming mug in her hand. “But I just –”

“Now. We can stop off at Haley’s later.”

There’s a pause as she glances behind me, assessing, no doubt lining up a bunch of questions to ask me as soon as we’re out of earshot. “Sure thing, Detective.” She pulls on coat and scarf and sidles closer. “Day one and the power’s already gone to your head, I see.”

I stifle a smile and turn back to Unit Bravo, who are all leaning around the door of my office in various attitudes of surprise. “I almost forgot, while I’m out I’d be grateful if you could add the information on the other victims to the board. It should help.”

“We’ll see to it,” Nate promises when his colleague only flexes his biceps in response.

“I appreciate it.”

I’m almost to the door when I catch Felix sigh and mutter I don’t think she likes us very much, but I straighten my shoulders and step into the already darkening winter day, not allowing the prickle of guilt to take hold. They’re not here for me to like them, they’re here for a job – and I need to figure out what that job really is.

Tina shoots me a dubious look as I pull up outside the Farris warehouse and cut the engine. There’s still some light left, though the thick growth of trees crowds most of it out, and aside from a few harsh alarm calls from birds flitting between the trunks, the place is lifeless. Silent. The moon watches us from just above the top branches, hanging in the sky like a spider in the corner of its web.

“You changed your mind about letting Unit Boyband have this one?” she asks.

I reach behind me for my flashlight and check the safety on my gun is locked before kicking open the door. “There’s something not adding up about them, and I want to know what it is. Nate practically contorted himself trying to think of reasons for me to stay away.”

“And so here we are.” She sighs and follows. “Just like the good old days. As your friend, I think you’re being a bit paranoid.”

“Shady government agencies bring that out in me.”

“Just as long as you’re not expecting to split up in there.”

I toss her a grin. “Not even for a Scooby Snack?” I chuckle at her flat look. “Don’t worry, after those guys put that dent in Nessie last night, I’m not taking chances.”

With a wary look around, she unholsters her own gun and takes position on my left. “That dent looks like it was made with a sledgehammer.”

“Yup.”

We fall silent as we cross the threshold, crumbs of rubble cracking under our boots. The wind blows in from behind us, rustling the ivy reclaiming the walls, distorting sound, but unless someone is keeping very still, there’s nobody else here.

“Sooooo… it’s ‘Nate’ is it?” Tina ventures as we climb the stairs to the first floor. The artistic endeavours of Wayhaven’s teenagers scroll the walls, the empty cans and bottles from last summer’s illicit parties still scattered in the far corners.

“That’s what he asked me to call him,” I reply carefully. “It’s what the rest of them call him too.”

“Uh-huh.” She peers down at something. “Cigarette butt.”

“Recent?” I catch a shadow to my left, but when I chase it with my flashlight, it turns out just to be pigeons again, scattering for some reason of their own.

“There’s still ash on it, so I’d say so.”

“Bag it.”

While she kneels and starts the usual procedure for getting evidence into one of the bags we both carry with us, I pace the rest of the floor, peering around rusted heavy machinery and into the dustier corners in case of footprints. With so many people passing through, though, it’s unlikely we’ll find enough to connect anything to the murder – at least not anything that would stick in court.

“You have seen him eyeing you up though, right?”

“What?” I glance over, startled by the suddenness of Tina’s voice. “Who?”

Her tut would have made any disapproving grandma proud. “Nate.”

“Tina, I met him this morning.” One last glance around. “This floor’s clear.”

“So?”

“So when has he even had an opportunity to ‘eye me up’?”

“Oh, that’s right,” she sing-songs, “you were too busy doing your best to make the grumpy one quake in his combat boots, but I see everything. His mouth was hanging open and everything. And that was after your cosy little trip down to the morgue. I’m telling you, babe, you have a shot.”

We go one at a time down the stairs, which means she can’t see me roll my eyes, but as we turn to take our first proper look at the ground floor, the idea wiggles in to distract my better judgement. Nate has certainly made a better first impression than most of his team, but that’s not exactly hard, and his face looks like one that’s used to smiling, to smoothing ruffled feathers. If I maybe noticed the warmth of his hand when I shook it earlier, or caught the faint scent of whatever aftershave he uses when we were walking down to see Verda, then it’s still not something to lose my head over. It’s not something that matters.

“As your friend, I’m duty-bound to say that I think you’re delusional,” I say, deliberately light.

“Over here.”

Tina’s flashlight rounds on the transient’s camp I found yesterday, a loose pile of tattered blankets and a few rusted oil drums converted into fire barrels, only now with more light, there seems to be little evidence of recent occupation. No trash, no scuff marks beyond what could be explained by the passage of my own feet and the strangers who ran into me, and no odour of an unwashed body.

And yet…

Still crouched, I glance at the walls, try to imagine them blurred as I hold up my phone screen with the photos copied from Janet Greenland’s. She had known she was going to die, with enough advance warning to try and leave some kind of message, and then hidden them where her killer would be unlikely to look.

Tina breaks the concentrated silence. “What’s so delusional about someone finding you attractive?” It helps, the distraction from the grisly reason we’re here.

“Nothing in particular,” I reply. “People have wanted to sleep with me before. It’s just not something that would work.”

“Why not?”

I stand and walk slowly, still with my phone up in front of me. “One, this is a temporary assignment. Once we catch the killer, Unit Bravo will be whisked away to somewhere far more exotic than Wayhaven with far more interesting people.” I stop. “Two, he’s technically a colleague, which is never something that ends well. And three…”

The last of Janet Greenland’s photos line up with the view ahead of me, minus the difference in our height.

“Three?” Tina presses.

“I’m not interested.” It’s a ready answer, but she scoffs all the same.

“Oh come on, you mean you don’t think he’s sexy as hell?”

From somewhere behind us, there’s a loud crash as a piece of masonry collapses. We wheel, ready for something to come at us, but after a long moment, nothing else moves. Probably a rat, or a piece of the ceiling that was ready to go anyway. Even so, Tina keeps her back to mine as I return to my snooping.

“That’s not a no,” she wheedles after a few more minutes of silence.

“He’s –” The right description eludes me for a moment. “He’s good-looking. He seems nice, for what it’s worth. But that doesn’t mean he’d stay, and it doesn’t mean he’d be interested in anything… beyond casual. I have more worthwhile uses for my time than trying to guess a stranger’s motives for noticing me.” The bitterness isn’t something I meant to slip out, but thankfully there’s no comment on it. Tina knows enough about the fiasco with Bobby to leave that particular sleeping Rottweiler lie.

Besides, I’ve found where Janet stumbled into the warehouse – or tried to get out. By one of the broken windows some of the stones have tumbled and turned the mossy sides underneath, and a few threads of material are snagged on the jagged edge of the glass that are the same colour as the jacket she was wearing. There’s just enough light left to photograph it, but without any evidence of the killer or any kind of struggle, there isn’t much else to be done. Wayhaven doesn’t have the resources to dust an entire warehouse for prints.

“I remember being told at the academy that we should try to collect all the evidence we can,” Tina says, when I make no move to reach for a bag.

“That’s what I’m doing,” I reply. “Sometimes it doesn’t all look the same, that’s all.”

She eyes me with a frown, though the corner of her mouth is fighting a smile. “What did I tell you? Paranoid.”

Sitting in the Facility cafeteria barely a week later, a plate of unappetising mince and mashed potato in front of me, it’s hard to believe how much a life can change. Hunting for petty clues, looking through bank records and phone calls as if any of it would have turned up anything useful – not even the vindication of knowing I was right about my mother’s team does much to lessen the lurch the world has taken since learning that the man I was hunting is not only a vampire, but that he’s hunting me, too. The thought puts me off eating. Or maybe it’s the tests, or just that the food itself isn’t very good.

I’m in the middle of drawing a passable mixed media landscape with my fork when a shadow falls across my plate. Nate smiles at me, genuine if somewhat nervous, one hand holding a mug of tea and the other on the back of the chair opposite mine.

“May I sit?” he asks.

I’ve barely seen him since the first night I was here, between all the debriefings and the sessions with the scientists, and even those brief glimpses have been accidental, moments of stumbling into each other in the corridors of Unit Bravo’s section of the Facility. To have him seek me out, in a place that reeks of leftovers, stirs an unfamiliar flutter behind my ribs that turns into a smile to answer his.

“Please do.” I gesture, and his smile grows wider, and I cast about for something that will avoid me floundering in awkward silence. “I didn’t think I’d see you here – not because you don’t need to eat!” I add hastily. “The smell of stale coffee is almost too much for me with just human senses.”

He doesn’t seem too offended, and just shrugs. “I like the ambience. People here are just being people, no matter what species.” As he speaks his eyes cast over the nearly empty room, and the pockets of agents and supernaturals at other tables buried in conversation. A person could visit a thousand parallel universes and a cafeteria would look the same in every one.

“The more things change…” I mutter, following the line of his gaze.

A smile touches his lips. “You have no idea.”

I really don’t. Not compared with someone who’s lived so long and seen so much. In the pause that follows, I turn my attention back to my plate, and the interrupted tree I was trying to capture in the foreground with an overcooked slice of carrot.

“You’re quite the artist – I mean it!” he adds, holding up his hands at the sharp glance I throw his way.

“This is the part where you say you met some famous painter or other, isn’t it?” I grumble, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Van Gogh did sell me a painting once – not one of his own, I’m afraid.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say the statement was meant to impress me, and that the sip he takes of his tea is more to hide a smirk than because he’s thirsty. Still, his eyes grow serious as he taps the mug back on the table, and the measured way he looks me over makes me want to twist my fingers in my lap.

“What?”

“You seem to be handling the revelation of all this rather well,” he replies, muted, with a flicker of a softer smile. “We should have trusted you with it sooner.”

For a moment I don’t answer, both startled by the admission and caught up in an echo of the resentment that’s characterised so much of my time with Unit Bravo so far. It’s not a comfortable feeling, not now I know the reason behind the secrecy, but the morning after my second visit to the warehouse is still fresh in my mind, Adam’s flat ‘no’ when I asked if they’d found anything, and the way Nate glared at the floor, arms folded and shaking his head in tacit disagreement as the others waited for my reaction, as if they knew I wouldn’t believe them.

“I’ll admit, ‘new co-workers are secretly vampires hunting down a vampire serial killer who’s picked me as his next target’ wouldn’t have been my first guess for what was going on,” I try with a shrug. “I assume it’s not something everyone responds well to.”

“Most people who find out don’t have to deal with the serial killer part.”

Sometimes, in the face of such absurdity, you just have to laugh. Nate seems pleased that I haven’t run screaming, amusement warming the sympathetic way his gaze lingers.

“Actually, I wanted to thank you,” I say, after another moment of silence.

“For what?”

I shrug. “For wanting to tell me – trying to tell me, even though you had orders. Not everyone would do that.” My mother springs to mind as a prime example.

“It was clear you were going to find out anyway. You’re pretty incredible that way.” His gaze on mine is heavy, soft and intense but tinged with regret as well, and he looks away. “But after you went to the warehouse, it was also clear you didn’t trust us. It’s not a great combination for trying to keep someone safe.”

“How did you know I was at the warehouse?”

“I, uh…” He clears his throat, not meeting my eye. “I followed you. One of us had to, just in case Murphy came back.”

He seems… embarrassed more than anything, as if following me was somehow something more shameful than lying to my face, and it’s not what I expect. And then I remember my conversation with Tina while we hunted through the ruined building. Damn. My fork sets against the edge of my plate with a faint clink.

“You were in the warehouse – when I was in the warehouse,” I check, just in case there’s no real reason for the sudden flood of heat into my face.

“I was.”

“And you heard everything me and Tina were saying with your hypersenses, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t exactly need –” He stops, smiles an apology. “Yes, I heard everything.”

I roll my lips together, chasing something to say. My fingertips drum on the table. “There’s no chance you could just… forget all of that, is there?”

And now the smile curls into something smoother, sleek like a cat. And guess who’s the canary.

“I would rather not.” He purrs it, and my insides squirm. “But since we’re on the subject of… things you said, I feel the same way. About matters of the heart. They’re too precious to be treated casually.”

I stare. There’s more in the words than I really want to acknowledge, certainly more than I can respond to in the middle of a public place full of creatures I thought were myths for most of my life. His brown eyes search my face, patient, until I can’t stand it anymore and drop my gaze to the table, and he covers by taking another sip of his tea.

“That’s an elegant way to put it,” I manage, after what feels like an eternity. He’ll still be leaving once we’ve caught Murphy, and now that we’ve got a solid set of leads on him, that won’t be long at all.

“I hoped you would think so.”

“It must be hard to have any kind of relationship with… all of this.” I wave my hand around the room. “The secrecy and the travelling, I mean.”

His head tilts, the smile returns. “You don’t think it’s the vampire thing that would put people off?”

“No.” I don’t miss the way his mouth twitches upwards at that. “Vampires have become fashionable in the last few years, so I hear. Even if you don’t sparkle.”

“I’d hope my wit does, at least.”

I can’t help it, I break into a laugh at that. It’s so easy to feel comfortable around him, to want to be closer and spend hours just talking. When I knew he was lying, it was an easier feeling to ignore.

“You could always find another vampire,” I point out. “That would solve it if you thought it was a problem.”

It confuses him. His brows furrow as if it was something he hadn’t considered, as if the conversation has taken a turn he didn’t expect, and I use the distraction to look at the clock, high on the wall where clocks always are in cafeterias.

“I need to go. It’s stab-Leah-with-needles o’clock.”

“So soon?” he asks.

It’s not entirely untrue, but I’ll have to walk slowly not to be early, because god forbid they think I’m eager for more tests. My heart skips a little, and he can probably tell, but this whole conversation has veered far too close to gates I locked a long time ago, and do not want open again. I shrug.

“The sooner I get through everything they can think up, the sooner I can go back to catching Murphy.”

“The sooner this whole case is finished.” He watches me, the unspoken half of the sentence left hanging.

“The sooner Wayhaven is safe again.”

In the end, that’s what matters. I can’t lose sight of it.

#in this house we talk about our feelings #but only if we're not talking about *our* feelings #and only if our bff bullies us into it #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #n sewell #nate sewell #nate sewell x detective #leah kingston #tina poname

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ace-oreos · 4 years ago

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I love the way you write fordo and alpha! If you’re still doing asks could u do a one shot where Frodo is badly injured and Alpha saves his shebse? He’s pissed to all nine hells to mask how genuinely scared he is of losing him

AHHH thank you! That means so much! <3 I really love their chaotic dumb siblings who actually care about each other underneath the snark dynamic; it’s a blast to write them every time.

I’m starting to think I just might be able to write hurt/comfort instead of straight up angst. Who knew?? XD

The comm call Alpha has come to expect and dreads nonetheless comes not long after he returns to base thinking it’d be best for everyone if the Republic just pulled out of this one. The planet’s a mess, caught in the ugly crossfire of a back and forth we-want-what-you’ve-got that’s characterized the Republic’s mindset lately. It’s no way to run an army, but no one ever thinks to ask Alpha’s opinion anyway.

The message - passed on in harried, strained tones by one of Fordo’s subordinates - leaves an ache in his throat and his pulse hammering a restless, frantic rhythm. We don’t know how it happened. Everything was moving so fast…

In another world, the comlink slips from numb fingers and feelings he can’t begin to describe fill the subsequent silence, leave him choking and drowning -

But he can’t afford to fall apart.

Alpha reverts to the basics. Armor plates attached to the bodysuit, helmet snapped into place, comms up and running. Run a cursory check of his armor’s systems, ensure his weapons are fully operational. He’s not leaving anything to chance; Fordo’s men aren’t entirely confident the area is secure.

It doesn’t take him long to find the site of the ambush. They’ve been wary of this pass from day one - horribly exposed and overlooked by steep slopes, they’re confined to the one fixed route that dissects the mountain range. With little to offer by way of cover, the half-kilometer between the base and the valley has become a hotspot for enemy contact.

After five weeks on the ground, Fordo knows the dangers as well as he does. And look where it got you. You shabuir, you told me you would go careful and yet you throw yourself into the line of fire the first chance you get.

And isn’t it just like Fordo to take a hit to spare a brother without a second thought. So Alpha can’t be - shouldn’t be - selfish. Shouldn’t feel as though Fordo has betrayed him somehow.

“Captain.” Fordo’s second offers a weary salute.

The last thing Alpha wants is to be captain right now, but for his brothers’ sake he does his best to keep his fear and everything that accompanies it under wraps. Then Fordo’s voice reaches him, and that carefully constructed veneer nearly buckles.

“You’re overreacting, Seventeen.” Fordo is propped against a rock while the squad’s medic works. Blood oozes sluggishly between the armor plates on his torso, and his face is a mess of blood and dirt, but he’s alive. “Riding to the rescue isn’t your style.”

“I just couldn’t say away,” Alpha says sardonically, fighting the urge to assess Fordo’s wounds for himself. Their medic is perfectly competent and would likely operate more efficiently without an ARC breathing down his neck.

“Lucky you didn’t get your head blown off, running into a combat zone like that.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be lecturing me,” Alpha shoots back before he can catch himself.

“I told you.” Fordo directs this at his second. “This is exactly why he wasn’t supposed to know.”

The man’s expression is studiously blank. “Whatever you say, sir.”

“I told him you’d only fuss,” Fordo continues, then breaks off with a grimace. “Then again, maybe you had reason to, yeah?”

“Di’kut,” Alpha says, even though there are a number of other things he’d be more than happy to say right now. Reckless and foolhardy and just about everything else Alpha himself has been branded by none other than General Kenobi.

Fordo’s second interrupts. “Unless we’re looking to be a welcoming party for the next Separatist patrol, it’s time to get moving.”

___________________________

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Keep your voice down,” Fordo says amicably. “Acting all huffy won’t do you any favors.”

“Won’t - you nearly died, you shabuir - ”

“Well, you’re in luck, ‘cos I’m not dead just yet.”

“I’m not sure that counts as lucky,” Alpha snaps. It’s only a matter of time. I thought I would be able to handle it. Now I’m starting to wonder...

“I’m touched, Seventeen. Really.”

“Osik, you’re a pain.”

Fordo flashes a crooked grin. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

This is why I tried to push you away. “Keep dreaming.”

“Well, with an attitude like that, I guess I’ll just have to watch my own back, then.”

“And then what?” Alpha demands. It comes out more harshly than he intends, and he feels a faint twinge of regret when Fordo looks taken aback. It’s soon swallowed by something bigger, something looming and tumultuous and painful in a way that makes his chest tighten and his hands clench. “Whatever’s left of you is left to rot on some hellhole, and screw the galaxy?”

Fordo’s composed weathering of Alpha’s temper is giving way to anger. “The galaxy has screwed us over from day one. If the most I can hope for is that my death serves a purpose somehow, then so be it. I can’t take issue with that.”

“I’m sure the shabuire sitting fat and happy in the Senate will be glad to know their osik got in our heads,” Alpha snarls.

“What happened to serving the Republic? Getting cold feet, Seventeen?” There’s awful sarcasm in Fordo’s voice, but there’s still truth in his words, and it stings in a way Alpha isn’t prepared for.

“You know I would choose our vode over the Republic any day.”

“That’s rich coming from you. So you’ve had a change of heart since Kamino - ”

Alpha is on his feet now, blood boiling. “We had orders. I wasn’t going to throw it all away.”

“Jango’s man to the last,” Fordo spits out, all acid.

“You were dead for all I knew!”

A range of emotions play across Fordo’s face. Alpha looks away, grappling with nauseating shame and a sort of blind fear he’s never experienced in such an abject way.

His brother’s voice is soft when he finally says, “Sev.”

He can’t shake the sense that he’s failed somehow. Failed his father, failed his brothers, failed everything he’s ever fought for -

“Alpha,” Fordo tries again. His hand finds Alpha’s, holds on tight. Alpha can’t bring himself to pull away. “It’s okay, ner vod. I didn’t realize… ”

“You really thought I didn’t care?” Alpha asks softly. I tried not to. I thought it would be better for everyone that way.

“I never can tell just what’s going through your head.” Fordo pauses. “But I think I knew. In your own way, of course.”

Alpha swallows his pride and starts, “Look, I’m sorry if - ”

“Don’t,” Fordo interrupts. His voice softens. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

He offers a small smile, and the knot in Alpha’s chest begins to unwind. He manages to return a halfhearted smile of his own. He’s navigating unfamiliar territory - and he’ll have to confront it again someday - but for now… well, he prefers to focus on what’s in front of him.

Fordo squeezes his hand and lets go. “Okay, alor’ad?”

Alpha can’t help rolling his eyes. “I’m starting to think you should’ve been assigned to Kenobi. You’re awfully dramatic.”

“Denial isn’t a good look on you, ner vod.”

“Oh, come off it,” Alpha huffs. “You and Kenobi could have your own holodrama.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You just don’t want to admit I’m right.”

In the end, neither of them are willing to admit defeat, but Alpha leaves the med tent undeniably smug for the truce he managed to negotiate.

#alpha-17 #alpha 17 #alpha-77 #captain fordo #the clone wars #star wars #fic prompt #thanks for the prompt!#this was fun #as always my askbox is open

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firstagent · 4 years ago

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Since it popped up on the Podcast, how would you rank the sibling dynamics from healthy to trainwreck?

This is an innocent-sounding question until you go over the franchise and realize just how many sibling relationships there are in Digimon and that all but like three of them have elements that might raise eyebrows. In the interest of being comprehensive, this includes all named characters in any anime, manga, and game I’m familiar with, treating the reboot separately and including Survive because... (looks at Kaito and Miu’s bios) ...holy crap.

Sibling Relationship Rankings! (Healthy is Higher)

Joe & Shin Kido (Adventure): Shin understands Joe’s hang-ups and offers support to make his own choices without steering him in any specific direction, for or against the family. And Shuu exists too (depending on the language you’re watching in)

Juri & Masahiko Kato (Tamers): For all of the awkwardness and potential points of fracture in the family, Juri and Masahiko are very close. Fun Fact: She started carrying around her iconic hand puppet to amuse and entertain him!

Keito & Nozomi Tamada (Re:Arise): Even with very different personalities, Keito and Nozomi have a lot of respect for each other. Unlike some big brothers, he comes to a mature conclusion when he realizes she’ll be just fine with Pumpmon at her side.

Yamato Ishida & Takeru Takaishi (Adventure 2020): Yamato’s worry over Takeru only affects his reluctance to take on time-consuming side quests when he might be in danger. Far more chill about trusting Takeru with the rest of the team, he’s a motivation rather than a mental handicap.

Masaru & Chika Daimon (Savers): Perhaps a more controversial pick for the healthier side, but Masaru and Chika have a playful relationship that proves that Chika dishes out as much as anyone in the family. Given how much harm DATS and Digimon have done to the family, Masaru risks her love to keep them away from her.

Joe & Shin Kido (Adventure 2020): Shin’s still supportive and still encourages Joe to make choices for himself, but having that bugout bag ready to go raises some serious questions about that family and which side Shin’s really on.

Ai & Makoto (Tamers): Toddlers fight. It’s okay. They come together for Impmon’s sake and the fact that they’re the only duo in the franchise with mutual custody over a digivice has to say something about the strength of their relationship.

Nene & Kotone Amano (Xros Wars Manga): Nene’s tactics are still desperate but not quite as extreme as the anime, and it counts for so much that Kotone fights so hard for Nene once the tables are turned. And good lord that backstory...

Takuya & Shinya Kanbara (Frontier): There’s definitely a sense of Takuya lapsing into thinking Shinya encapsulates everything frustrating about having an older brother, but he gets over it.

Miyako Inoue + Three (Zero Two): Perfectly normal large household. And while wondering what it would be like to be an only child is something every youngest does... top of mind fantasy, Miyako? Really?

Jianliang & Shaochung Lee (Tamers): Speaking of four-packs... there’s no doubting how much they care about each other, but Jian’s occasional short fuse with Shaochung betrays his usual calm demeanor, and we never get a picture of the full family dynamic once Rinchei and Jaarin are included.

Daisuke & Jun Motomiya (Zero Two): Everyone likes to paint Jun and Daisuke as something uglier than it really is. As much as they annoy each other, it’s still a pretty conventional sibling dynamic and they’d still fight hard for the other... even if the feeling’s closer to obligation.

Koji Minamoto & Koichi Kimura (Frontier): There’s no questioning the bond they develop, but there’s no way Koji and Koichi go from “don’t know the other exists” to “ZOMG Twinzies!” without a ton of awkwardness and feeling each other out. They’ll get better, but from our standpoint this is where we start to drift into trainwreck territory.

Tomoki & Yutaka Himi (Frontier): Tomoki can spin it all he wants but Yutaka comes off as a real jerk. Not that some resentment isn’t a little justified given how much Tomoki is coddled, but taking it upon himself to be the bearer of tough love is still not cool.

Taichi & Hikari Yagami (Adventure 2020): Hikari has a blind faith that Taichi can save the day in any circumstance, up to and including international shipping crisis. Meanwhile Taichi sees Hikari lapsing between typical friendly eight year old to brainwashed robot and doesn’t find any problem with it.

Yamato Ishida & Takeru Takaishi (Adventure): Lessons in how not to be an overprotective big brother. Yamato freaks out at the slightest notion that Takeru might be exposed to danger, including his very presence in the Digital World. When you have a complete nervous breakdown realizing that little bro’s actually pretty capable on his own, it’s not about your relationship with him anymore.

Touma & Relena Norstein (Savers): There’s caring about a little sister, making her plight a central cause in your life, and then involving her in a chess match with a madman. There’s a lot to forgive here (they are raised in a family where your kneejerk reaction to Grandma is “I bet she supported the Nazis in World War II”), but everything about their relationship just makes you uncomfortable.

Kaito & Miu Shinonome (Survive): Maybe it’s not fair since their game is the franchise’s unicorn, but their bios have warning flags all over it. He’s overprotective, ready to fight at the slightest hardship, and she repays this attitude by being rebellious and weird and eager to pursue trouble. May end up being worse once the game actually comes out.

Rei & Hajime Katsura (Appmon): Another one where their backstory makes you sympathize with the lengths they go to in order to stay together, but risking the security of actual guardians to go it alone? Jesus. Even with their ride or die attitude, you still sense a bit of friction in their relationship, and so many of their hardships are their own doing.

Nene & Yuu Amano (Xros Wars): There’s nothing seemingly wrong on the surface between Nene and Yuu, but that’s why their actions are so extreme. Yuu’s more than happy to treat her as an enemy general in his game, while Nene’s aligning herself with dark forces and causing real trouble to get him back. It’s all very loud and intense for a relationship that, without external influences, is just nice and cordial.

Yuuko & Yuugo Kamishiro (Cyber Sleuth): You can be anything you want on the internet! So why not take the identify of your big brother who was stricken with a mystery illness at a young age and lead a legion of hackers? And if you’re Yuugo, use your digital body to take control of that avatar! Nothing weird about any of this!

Ken & Osamu Ichijouji (Zero Two): Like Tomoki, Ken can come up with whatever rationale for Osamu’s abuse he wants, and Osamu at least had some kind moments, but there’s no denying that this family was a mess. And of course Ken’s reaction to Osamu’s death... could have been better.

Taichi & Hikari Yagami (Adventure): Hikari’s introduction to the series was intended to be a little creepy, and that just sets the tone. Her blind loyalty to Taichi is a primary point of emphasis through three series, and Taichi sometimes goes ballistic worrying about her... when not accidentally endangering her life. And that’s before she unleashes a world-destroying abomination at the mere suggestion that Taichi’s dead, and why telling him “what you’re doing is wrong and I kind of hate you for it” is a big moment for her, even though she’s wrong.

Neo & Rei Saiba (V-Tamer): There’s going a little overboard to keep your family together or save a sibling’s life, and then there’s aligning yourself with evil forces to avoid having to deal with your sister’s manageable disability. Call it being jaded or delusional, but when it drives your sister to attempt suicide there are definitely issues you two need to work through.

Erika & Ryuji Mishima (Cyber Sleuth Hackers Memory): Because aligning oneself with Arkadimon is always a fantastic idea. He’s overprotective, she manipulates him because of it, there’s resentment, there’s anger, and basically the entire game is spent watching these two outdo each other in terms of causing wanton destruction throughout the city and cyberspace.

Honorable Mention: Bagramon & DarkKnightmon (Xros Wars): The battle of who can stab the other in the back last.

Want to support my site and/or my work? Buy me a coffee!

#digimon #digiarticle

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belovedbangtan · 5 years ago

Text

Dive

Pairings: Jungkook x y/n, Yoongi x oc

Word Count: 3.1k

Description: Camping with your ex, sounds horrible right? The camping trip was planned and payed for long before y/n’s shitty boyfriend broke up with her. Her best friend Abby, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook are there to make sure she has an amazing time. However, sharing a tent with a smoke show like Jungkook is bound to lead to some complications.

Warnings: Language, Mentions of anxiety, drinking, that’s is for this chapter!

✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️✨✨⭐️

“I just don’t think we’re the right fit,” His voice was calm. Too calm in your opinion. You didn’t bother to ask questions, but he insisted on explaining why. Of course, he was trying to make you feel better about the situation, but him rambling on about how your lifestyles didn’t align was not something you wanted to hear. He wanted to get drunk every weekend and spend daddy’s money, while you were too tired to even think about drinking. You didn’t have a safety net to rely on and that was something that he would never understand. It didn’t make the blow hurt any less. You knew the relationship was getting rocky. When it was bad, he turned a blind eye, but when it was good, it was really good. Your mother told you that the way you ignored serious problems would end up biting us in the ass. You groaned as you realize that means you have to tell her she was right all along. He handed you your box of things and you can’t believe there wasn’t more in the box. After a year of sleeping at his house, you could fit everything in a small box. Part of your brain knew this would happen; it anticipated your flame burning out.

You close the door behind him and you sift through the box. You scoff picking up the frame that held a picture of you both. Remembering when he showed it to you. You were in awe as he complimented your figure, claiming “That’s when I knew I loved you”. You take the frame instantly throwing it into the trash can, along with the other keepsakes he assumed you would want to keep. You laugh to yourself finally being able to realize what a pretentious douche bag he was. The tears staining your cheek are confusing you. You did love him, you just weren’t in love with him. It hurt nonetheless.

You throw yourself onto the bed letting the memories of the past year overwhelm you. You might as well get this out of the way. You decide to call your best friend, Abby, the one who introduced you to Ben. The dial tone rings out and you still try to sort out how you feel. Within minutes of talking on the phone, she decided she’s coming over. Even though you insist that you’re fine, she knows you well enough, and you’ll never say no to ice cream.

“What a fucking douche,” Abby mumbles shoving a spoon of ice cream into her mouth. You reach over dipping your own spoon in. You were adults now; you didn’t even bother with bowls.

“Tell me about it,” you roll your eyes, leaning back onto the couch, “I’m pissed I have that whole camping trip next week paid for..”

She cuts you off immediately, “No, fuck that. You’re still coming.”

You sit up quickly, eyebrows scrunching together, “You’re delusional if you think I’m coming on that trip.”

“You’re delusional if you think you’re going to let him control your life, you’re coming and that’s that!” she points a finger in your direction.

“I don’t even have any camping gear. He was the one that had all of that stuff.” You explain as you pick up the quart of ice cream, walking it over to your freezer. Of course, you were excited to go on this trip. Abby couldn’t stop talking about how much fun it had been last year. Tons of people all camped out, getting drunk out of their minds. She told me about how the last night they would all skinny dip in the river at midnight. You cringed when she first told you about it, but now it sounded revitalizing. You couldn’t get past the fact that Ben would be there. He would without a doubt try to make you feel bad for coming since it was mostly his group of friends. Not to mention how would you feel watching him as he throws himself at the single chicks.

“I can ask Jungkook if he’ll share his tent. His friend was supposed to come but bailed,” She instantly started to text him.

“No, no, no,” You rush over trying to take her phone from her hands, but she was too quick, “Abby, I’ve only met Jungkook once and it didn’t seem like he liked me very much.”

She looks down at her phone as it dings, the corners of her mouth raise as her brows do, “Well, he doesn’t mind. It’s settled you’ll come. You can sleep in Kook’s tent, and you’ll hang out with me and Yoongi’s friends.”

You see, Abby was dating Yoongi. Through Yoongi, Abby met all of his friends from College. To be honest you still didn’t quite understand how Ben and his group of friends became friends with Yoongi and his group of friends. A year ago, Abby invited you to a birthday party and Ben was there. He was so persistent about taking you on a date, you gave in. He turned on the charm, he was the picture-perfect boyfriend. As soon as you fell for him, it was like he didn’t feel the need to try anymore. So, he stopped. He stopped planning dates for you, and simply started going out with his friends again. That was about seven months into the relationship. Eight months into the relationship you found messages from a girl he claimed to work with. Clearly that was all bullshit. You wondered how a relationship could go from good to bad in a matter of months, but it happened; and you regret falling for him in the first place. You had met Yoongi’s friends before and they were always pleasant, you just hoped that they would be more authentic than Ben and the group of uptight assholes he calls his friends.

It was confusing to you but Abby explained that there where about 25-30 people coming, but they would mostly stay in their own friend groups. You assumed you would know most of the people in Ben’s group, you just hoped they would ignore you.

You zone out, you mind flooding with all of the worst possible outcomes. Abby rambles on about how you’ll love getting to know all of the boys. How they’ll welcome you with open arms. You had met them before, they were incredible humans. However, it didn’t make you forget that your ex-boyfriend would be there too. You finally focus on her words, and you listen as she brags about all of the exciting things to look forward to. After a while her enthusiasm makes you forget the bad. Genuine excitement starts to run through your veins. She was right, you deserved this trip just as much as he did. You were going to have a good time despite him and that was that.

Friday came faster than you anticipated. You threw yourself into work, leaving your brain little time to think about your broken heart. Or the potential disaster this weekend could be. Abby calls you letting you know that they’ll be outside to pick you up shortly. You grab your luggage and give yourself a once over in the mirror. It was particularly hard deciding what to wear today. How do you dress when you want to make your ex jealous, but you’re also in the woods and sweating your ass off? Cut off jean shorts, a plain white crop top, with a buffalo plaid tied around your waist. Your hair in loose waves, you tousled it with your fingers before sliding the black baseball cap over your hair. Before you have the chance to freak out and change your entire outfit you hear honking outside. You grab your bag filled with blankets and a pillow and you toss your backpack over your shoulder.

The door to the SUV flings open to show a beautiful blonde man on the other side, Jimin. You remembered Jimin the most from previous gatherings, he was always attempting to create a conversation. He yells your name in excitement, instantly making you feel more at ease. Last thing you wanted was any additional drama or tension between you and whoever. He pulls you into a warm hug. After he puts your things in the trunk, you both hop into the back seat.

Abby turns around and looks you up and down, sliding her sunglasses down her nose slightly.

“You’re cute. I like it… it’s like,” she tilts her head as she scans her brain for the right words, “casual, but still make my ex kinda jelly.” You nodded in response, laughing to yourself. Sometimes you felt like you shared a brain cell. With that Abby punched the Campsite address into the GPS and we were on our way.

“So are you nervous?” Jimin asks quietly.

“Kinda,” You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, “but honestly I just want to have fun. It’s really not about making him jealous or anything. I just want to do me, and he can do whatever he wants.” You shrug before looking up to Jimin, a devilish smile starting to take over his face.

“I’ll make sure you have the best time. No unnecessary ex- boyfriend drama,” his smile is sincere, and you can tell that he means what he says, “I’m serious. You don’t have to worry about stupid shit. Just have a good time.” His hand lightly grazes your arm.

He barely hears your ‘thank you’ as Abby turns the radio on full volume, then Yoongi instantly turns it down. She glares at him and his stoic face shows he’s unfazed by her ferocity. You giggle at their interaction; you’ve never met two people who leveled each other out more. They were perfect for each other and exactly what you hoped you and Ben would be. It was never like that though, your chemistry was never something anyone would be jealous of.

A few hours, and a many snacks later you finally pulled into the camp site. Your stomach drops when you see your ex’s car lined up among the rest of them. You take a deep breathe, staying in the car a moment longer when everyone else gets out to unpack their things. In the middle of giving yourself a pep talk, your door is pulled open by the one and only, Kim Taehyung.

His smile is one to make you forget, and that’s exactly what it does.

“What’s the hold up, beautiful?” He reaches across you to unbuckle your seatbelt, and you don’t have time to panic, “Don’t worry, Jimin briefed me. Operation ‘Good Time’ is a-go.” He quickly looks left and right over dramatically. You can’t stop the laugh that surfaces. He was fucking hilarious and you thanked the heaven that you didn’t need to explain yourself or your situation. Even though you were sure that Abby had probably blabbed about the entire situation to all of them. It didn’t matter though, they were making this experience exactly what you wanted it to be. He takes your hand pulling you from the car, making obscene secret agent sounds as he rounds the car to the trunk, Yoongi and Jimin both giving him the weirdest look.

You scan the area around the campsite, your eyes wanting to find him, but your head and heart knowing that you wouldn’t like what you saw. Suddenly your eyes were frozen on someone else. His long hair in a tiny ponytail on top of his head as he rolled the tent from the bag. The tattoos on his arms giving him an edge that he didn’t have before. His entire demeanor was making your body warm. Of course, you remember Jungkook, you remember how rude Ben was to him. You sigh before taking your bags and deciding to walk over, the least you could do was help him set it up.

“Hey roomie.” You say instantly regretting it as it left your lips, he made you forget how to think.

He chuckles as he looks up, brushing a few stray hairs away from his face, “Hey! I should be done in a few minutes.” He says popping together the pieces of the tent like a pro.

“Let me help!” you set your bags down and you move to his side. He hands you a piece to put together, and he demonstrates how to do it. The muscles on his forearms making your knees weak. What the fuck was happening here, it had been so long since you’ve felt this way for someone. Another reason to be thankful that things had ended between you and Ben.

Almost as if he heard your internal dialogue, you hear him. Your eyes shoot up to see him shot gunning a beer with his close circle. You groan, mumbling ‘fucking douche’ under your breath, but apparently loud enough for Jungkook to hear.

His eyes peak over at you and he can’t help but laugh at your response, “You’re not wrong.” He agrees quietly. You nod your head agreeing with him.

The tent is finally together and you start to put your things inside. Jungkook rolls out a queen size blow up mattress and you instantly regret the tiny sleeping bag you brought. You might have fucked up.

“Are you sleeping on that?” Jungkook’s eyes are wide as he kneels next to the mattress using a battery powered pump to bring it to life.

“Uhm, yeah. I guess I didn’t get the memo,” You giggle at your pathetic 5th grade sleep over set up.

He looks at his mattress then looks down as if he isn’t sure of what to say, “Well this is a Queen, we can share if you want.”

“Oh my gosh, no. You’re already sharing your tent,” You shake your head, even though you know deep down that’s exactly where you want to end up.

“The offers on the table,” His tongue pokes the side of his cheek as the corners of his mouth turn into a smile, “Besides, having you in bed with me wouldn’t be the worst thing.” He turns his head biting his lip gently as he laughs quietly. You giggle nervously in return because it’s all you can do. You’re positive your cheeks are burning red, and there’s a wetness between your legs suddenly. You excuse yourself to get your other bag, and possibly smack Abby for failing to brief you on the smoke show that is Jeon Jungkook. Asshole, you knew he was attractive but, what the actual fuck.

Abby was sitting on Yoongi’s lap while Taehyung and Jimin were setting up the tent. A tent fit for royalty. It was massive compared to the one you were sharing with Jungkook, but you definitely weren’t complaining about the smaller shared space. Frankly, you were thankful for it. You walked over to your friend and flicked her on the back of her head. She ducked down and covered her head, “What the fuck was that for?!” She screamed.

“For many reasons!” You start yelling at her in a whispered tone, “one, you didn’t tell me to bring one of those blow up thingies.”

“Oh fuck. My bad, what else?” she rolls her eyes, still not feeling the abuse was necessary.

Your eyes widen and you point your head in a different direction, she quickly got the hint. You grabbed her arm once she was safely out of Yoongi’s lap, pulling her to where no one could hear you.

“So, I met Jungkook. He might have asked me to sleep with him?” you say questioning yourself entirely. Now that you say it aloud… were you dreaming that happened?

“Excuse me… what?” She scrunches her brows together grabbing your arms.

“Not like… sex. But to sleep on his mattress… but he could have meant sex?” You were genuinely confused.

“Ah!” She squeals and quickly checks her surroundings, “Okay, so he’s single and YOUR single. I’ve been waiting for this!” She squeaks, speaking too fast for anyone else to comprehend what was happening. She starts to ramble on about setting you and Jungkook up and you quickly stop her. That wasn’t what you came here for. You didn’t come to rebound in a tent a few feet away from your very recent ex-boyfriend. You came to have fun. Simple as that. She lets it go but insist that you shouldn’t deny it. ‘It’ being the undeniable connection Jungkook and I apparently had. You rolled your eyes but, you hoped she was right. You hoped that you left this weekend with more than memories. Hopefully the connection you made with Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin and Yoongi would be something that would make all of the awkwardness worth it.

As the sun fell behind the tall trees, the temperature dropped quick. Around what felt like 11 at night, mostly everyone was done for the day. Maybe not everyone but you certainly were. After watching Ben hit on every girl with a pulse you were exhausted. Tae and Jimin distracted you for a bit with a game of sand volleyball, but that only contributed to your exhaustion. You told everyone you were going to sleep. You unzipped the tent and you pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a swapped your crop top for a t-shirt. As you unzip your sleeping bag you look at the air mattress. For a half a second you debated on falling asleep on it, but then deciding it might be awkward when Jungkook finally comes to sleep. Maybe he was kidding about sharing the bed with you. You really didn’t know him well enough to decipher when he was being sarcastic or serious. Even if you knew he was serious, would you do it? You snuggle up in your sleeping bag, wishing you would have at least brought another cover with you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t imagining what it would feel like to have Jungkook as your own personal heater. Having is arms pulling you into his body, maybe feeling his lips against yours. Eventually your exhaustion takes over and you fall asleep with some not so PG images in your head.

You’re woken up a few hours later to the sound of the tent being unzipped. You see Jungkook climb inside through the slits of your eyes. You’re eyes close as you hear him rustling around in his bag, probably looking for pajamas. You turn away from him, realizing how cold you are you start to shiver. You take the edges of the blanket and pull them up to cover your nose. You forget about Jungkook until you feel a large blanket covering your body. You hear him shuffle back onto the air mattress and you want to sit up and give it back to him. Maybe tell him you can both use it. You’re too tired to be that ballsy though, you slowly start to fall asleep again.

A/N: So float trips are really popular where I’m from, so i’m sorry if you have no idea what i’m referring to! Hopefully our mood board helps with some imagery! Please let me know what you think!!

#bts #bts imagine #bts fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jeongguk #jeongguk imagine #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts smut #bts jungkook #bts jungkook fluff

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descendantofthesparrow · 4 years ago

Text

Multipart Commission work -Harry Hook x reader - A Prince Behind the Pirate - part 11 - resolve

@musicarose

You felt a few tears slip down our cheeks as you stared up at the white sterile ceiling, you attempted to sit up but cried out as your chest flared in pain.

“Harry” you sobbed, covering your mouth and letting it all out, hiccuping and tears starting to soak your pillow

“(y/n)-(y/n) you’re awake!” your sister's voice interrupted your little pity party, rushing to your side and cupping your face “(y/n)-wait what's wrong!? Is it your wound, ill get-“

“no-no” you sniffed, whipping your cheeks and shaking your head. “I just….i found him and-” you sobbed, unable to finish your sentence.

Audrey shushed you and wiped some more tears off your face “you mean dream boy? You found him?” you nodded.

“yeah, on the isle” a hiccup ripped from your throat, Audreys shoulders slumped and she did her best to hug you without hurting you.

“oh (nickname)” she cooed “im sorry” you shook your head and curled into her side, ignoring the pain in your chest.

“So what's his name” almost an hour later, you had finally calmed down enough to talk normally. So now Audrey sat at your side and munched on some chips, letting you talk about your experience on the isle.

“his name is Harry and….hes the son of captain hook?” you winced, expecting Audrey to freak, but to your surprise, she smiled.

“oh! At least you know he can shove a sword up anybody's butt if they mess with you” she chirped.

You frowned, glaring at her suspiciously “ya know, I thought you would be more….advert to an isle kid being dream boy”

“well,” she sighed “there's a difference, the universe chose Harry for you, so it means that you’re meant for each other, I can't do anything about it” you gave her a soft smile.

“thanks Aud” she grinned and kissed your forehead.

“no prob, I got your back”

“and I got yours”

It took you two months to fully heal from the gunshot wound, you were unable to do much else other than convincing Ben to continue the sending of proper supplies to the isle.

Thankfully with his own experience on the isle, and your further explanation of what happened there, he appointed you in charge of isle affairs.

It was stressful but worth it, being able to know EXACTLY what was being sent to the isle. Things like rotten food and old grody trash had been rerouted to an actual trash site.

You were also campaigning for the next group of vks to be brought over, but the council was being stubborn and ignorant against the children of villains.

Your grandmother being one of them, she hardly believed you when you said you found dream boy on the isle, refusing to listen to your sister or parents who defended Harry when she insulted the fact that a vk wasn’t “good enough” for you.

She was pushing for an arranged marriage with Ariel's and Erics son, which you ranted about to Audrey….and Harry.

“shes just…ARUGH! Shes being delusional about you, saying that “you’re dangerous” and “you'll corrupt our kingdom” Harry snorted, picking at the dream grass below him.

“she sounds like a nutter” he chuckled, reaching out and grabbing your hand, tugging you into his lap.

“she is” you groaned, leaning on his shoulder and pouting “shes one of the most controlling people in my life, and because she didn’t get to raise my mom she feels like she has the authority to raise me and Aud completely! Like-she doesn’t allow my mom and dad to parent us, when Audrey and I would get into trouble as kids, or anything else, and they would try to talk to us about it or discipline us, she would yell at them and crap” harry hummed, rubbing your back and letting you rant.

“I just-gosh I can't wait until I turn 18 and can just….not care about her anymore, hell, run away with you even” you grumbled, letting your head fall back, seeing harry smile and shake his head at you.

“lass, who knows if ill be off the isle by then” he muttered sadly. You sat up, pointing your finger in his face.

“yes you will, I will get more vks off the isle, I swear by it” harry snorted and shook his head.

“yeh may be the ambassador for the isle but only beasty boy can get more of us off love” he sighed, cupping your chin and rubbing his thumb on your cheek.

“then ill overthrow him and get you all off” you snorted, harry burst into laughter, shaking his head.

“and ill support yeh in that” he chuckled, leaning back on the grass and looking up at the pink sky.

You both sat in silence for a few moments, before you decided to break it “im glad this didn’t disappear” you muttered, looking around the dream world you and harry inhabited.

“aye” he hummed, looking up at the cherry tree hanging overhead. “im guessing Auradon looks like this?”

“Yeah, pretty much, minus the permanently pink sky” you giggled, falling back to lay next to harry.

He stretched his arm out to let you use it as a pillow, turning to lay on his side and look at you.

He was happy you were back in Auradon, safe and away from the villans of the isle who would take advantage of you.

It didn’t mean he didn’t miss you but….it was better for you in auradon.

“I cant wait to see you again” you whispered, looking into his eyes, a soft sad smile on your face.

“yer seeing me righ’ now” he laughed, pausing as you reached out and cupped his cheek.

“I mean in Auradon, when you come here” harry sighed, closing his eyes and leaning into your hand.

“yeah….ill see yeh in auradon” he murmured, eyes snapping open as you shuffled closer to him.

Your breathing stopped, lips inches away from his, his ocean blue eyes staring back into your (e/c) ones.

“kiss me” you whispered, Harrys eyes widened for a moment before his arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer, lips crashing into yours.

It was like a nuke exploded in your chest, the shocks vibrating down your limbs and electricity running through your lips.

Harry let out a low hum, rolling onto his back and pulling you onto his chest. You let out a little squeak, separating from him for a moment.

you looked down, giggling as harry pouted at you “nooo, come back” he muttered, tugging at your dress.

You sighed, watching as the world brightened around you “but we’re about to wake up” your shoulders slumped, letting your head fall, your chin hitting Harry's chest.

“one more?” he pleaded, sitting up and tilting his head in that adorable way.

You snorted and nodded, pressing one last kiss to his lips.

“mmm thank yeh,” he murmured against your lips, pulling away and pressing multiple kisses across your face, smiling against your cheek as you laughed.

“ill see you soon harry” you hummed, closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug.

“ill see yeh soon meh bonnie lass”

You yawned as you woke up, scrunching your face as the sunlight hit your face.

“im up im up” you groaned, wincing as you stretched your lower chest. “ow” you hopped out of bed and looked out the window, a sad smile growing on your face as you saw the isle across the sea, spotting the lost revenge at pirates bay.

“I promise Harry” you muttered, wishing for the wind to carry your words to him “that you will sail the seven seas with me one day”

---end---

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#descendants #Descendents #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #commission work #writing commission

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lilydalexf · 4 years ago

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with MaybeAmanda

MaybeAmanda has been a longtime participant in X-files fandom. She has 29 stories at Gossamer, the earliest being archived there in 1998 and the latest in 2012. I've recced some of my favorites of her stories here before, including "Malus Genus" and "Snow in Alabama." Big thanks to MaybeAmanda for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

It does, in a way. The feedback I get nowadays is either of the "I read this like 20 years ago and I just read it again" variety or the "I was too young back in the day but I have been watching the show in reruns/on XYZ streaming service/on the full-series of DVDs I got for $3 from the thrift store and I was THRILLED to discover fanfiction was being written even in the Dark Ages!" So it's a bit of a surprise, but it's a pleasant one. I answer every mail/comment because my mama raised me right!

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

It was great. It was fun. It was educational. It was a godsend. Even with the occasional bouts of back-stabbing and flame-throwing, it was mainly a welcoming, inclusive place to be. I made so many online friends who have turned into meat-friends (do they still call them that? Probably not). During the first run of the show I had small children and we had relocated for my husband's job. I had very little social life, but the fandom gave me a chance to meet and connect with people who liked what I liked. Then I discovered online fanfic, and it was even better!

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

ATXC I think. A lot of email lists - 5 or 6 or 7 or so over the years. Gossamer, of course, Ephemeral when that came into being. Haven discussion boards. My own websites.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

More than anything? I am a fangirl.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I have always been partial to sci-fi and speculative fiction, but it rarely makes it to the screen - large or small - without being trite, clichéd, or just plain bad. It's easy to forget that The X-Files was groundbreaking - smart, scary, funny, insightful, intriguing, complex plots, on-going mythology. It looked great. It sounded great. David Duchovny was pleasant to look at, too, and damn! Gillian Anderson is/was one hell of an actress.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I found XF fanfic - somehow - probably by accident, or by way of a recommendation - and it blew my mind. I had written fanfic (of a sort) with my friends in highschool, so I was familiar with the beast, but to find what amounted to excellent story after excellent story for free within (relatively) easy reach (because dial-up, right?) written by people who, for the most part, were thrilled you read their story and were happy to talk to you about it, about writing in general, about your shared obsession - that was amazing. As I am sitting here typing this I am feeling that thrill again - discovering Karen Rasch, Madeliene Partous, Paula Graves [Lilydale note: AKA Anne Haynes], Sheryl Martin and all the other early BNFs was, well, the only word is exciting. I felt like I was a member of a secret society and that I was sitting at the popular kids lunch table, all at once. (Don't forget, in the early days, shippers were considered delusional outliers - seriously!)

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Good? It's not as lively a place as it once was, but I haven't renounced my citizenship or anything. If I get a rec, I check it out. I know there are those who like to pretend they never had anything to do with the fandom, but why? I am still a proud XPhile.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Angel (a teeny tiny bit) while XF was still running, but those fans were - I don't know the word. Hardcore does not begin to do it justice. I wrote two short pieces at a friend's request then backed away slowly. Sherlock (a bit) - it is/was very LJ centred and that made it hard to find things. A lot of it moved to tumblr which made it harder, then to twitter, which - no. I was involved in one of the less fashionable facets of the Sherlock fandom, so I was really a fringe-dweller there, too. It seemed clique-ier than XF, and they all seemed so young, and they all knew EVERYTHING about everything, and every damned thing was political, and, and, and... GET OFF MY LAWN!

But maybe I am remembering the XF fandom wrong. ;)

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Like, all fiction? Mulder and Scully for sure. Arthur Dent. Sherlock Holmes in most of his incarnations. Spock. Winnie the Pooh. Why do I like them? They speak to me, I guess.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I haven't watched an episode in probably two years (back when it was on regular tv). Yeah, I think about them surprisingly often. Story ideas, weirdly.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic?

I finished re-reading The Iolokus Series a couple of weeks back, so yes. It's excellent comfort reading.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Lots! But as far as authors go, I hate playing favourites. I will miss someone I shouldn't and feel like crap. The Iolokus Series by MustangSally and Rivka T. is probably my all-time favourite fic because it's so very well-written, and so very fucked-up. Kipler's Strangers and the Strange Dead is also terrifically well-written and clever. For complex, interesting case files, you can’t beat syntax6 - pick any of them.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Oh geez. Seriously? I wrote a lot of collaborations and I love them - and my co-authors - all! Stuff I wrote on my own: Anniversary Waltz (first XF fic I wrote so it's sentimental.) Or Blue Patches. Or Epiphany. Or The Gifts of the Magi (On a Kaiser Roll). Or 221XF. Gonna stop now.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story?

Every time I thought I wouldn't, I did. I would never say never.

Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

Nothing finished ever went un-posted. All the unfinished stuff remains unfinished.

Do you still write fic now?

Haven't for a while, but it's not as if I have said "I SHALL NEVER WRITE FANFIC AGAIN!" I just have nothing in the works at this moment.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

With fic, it's usually from canon - some question unanswered, some road unexplored, some "what if?" that needs iffing. With "original" fiction, damned if I know. A snippet of overheard conversation, an interesting photo, something a random story generator spit out at me. Sometimes things just click.

What's the story behind your pen name?

Okay so...many years ago I was on a (smallish) fic list with a friend. There was a challenge posted - a bad fic challenge. We knew we could write some truly bad fic if we really tried. One of the rules of the challenge was to post under an assumed name so no one would know who they were voting for. Well, my friend and I wrote something truly, painfully horrid and we were very proud of its ghastliness, so were brainstorming possible pseudonyms. She hated everything but had no real suggestions of her own. I knew that she was a bit of a Trekkie (like me) and I said - What about Amanda Greyson and Joanna McCoy? And she said - What?? Huh?? Why?? And I said - Spock's mother and McCoy's daughter and she replied, "Maybe Amanda is Spock's mother but on Star Trek there is not a Joanna." By this point, I was SO DONE, and I became MaybeAmanda and she became NotJoanna. Really.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

It took years for me to admit it, but yeah, they know. They didn't entirely get it. The reactions I most often got were:

"Ew! You write stuff without being forced?? Ew!!"

or:

"Is it smut? I bet it's just smut. You write smut, don't you? Pure filth, right? I can't believe you are wasting your time writing pornography! That's disgusting! You sicken me! Um, can I read some of it?"

And of course:

"If you are going to write anyway, why don't you get published and become fabulously wealthy?"

which is really two questions, neither of which is easily answerable.

Anyone who tracked my work down (because I told them I wrote, but not my pseudonym) usually said something like, "Hey! You're an okay/passable/decent writer! Why don't you get published and become fabulously wealthy?"

Yeah.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

Same old email (maybe_a@rocketmail_dot_com). Gossamer, my site, my LJ and probably some other places. I can't lie - it's a bit scattered.

(Posted by Lilydale on August 4, 2020)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #maybeamanda #xf fanfic author interviews

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ravenforce · 5 years ago

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Cheating Death IV

Warning/s: Mentions of Violence. Angst (as promised).

A/N: Here ya go people. Your daily dose of pain. Enjoy!

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 6

You were planning to check out a lowkey hole-in-a-wall pub tonight with Cass and Megan so you three can properly catch up without having to shout at each other over the loud music if you went to your usual club. But the universe has a wicked sense of you humour, and it turns out the club is exactly what you needed. Thankfully, your friends are intuitive enough to drive the batmobile directly to the outskirts of town.

“Get lost kids, this is a private club.” You heard the bouncer upfront said sternly to Cass and Megan. He’s at least two feet taller than you are, bulky as they should be. You strode over but a boy in line caught your arm.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’ve been for an hour and you think you can just walk up there and bypass the rest of us?”

Cass and Megan shivered at the dead look on your face. It feels like another lifetime when they last saw you sporting that look in your eyes. “This is trouble,” Megan whispered and tried to get to you but Cass stopped her.

“Let her be.”

The boy continued to shout at you along with other people on the line. “Unhand me,” you warned.

He didn’t. Instead, he continued to mock you. You sighed, the universe was definitely trying to get a rise out of you, and you’re not in the mood to be the bigger person. So, you put your hand over the boy’s hand and twisted it. Not a warning twist, no. You broke it off the socket, he yelled and cried like a baby.

Bouncers and security personnel came over to you and tried to rip you away from the boy but you were holding him tight. In every jerk, he cried out and beg for your mercy. The ruckus caught the attention of the club manager, so he went to see what’s the fuss.

“Holy shit! Stop! Take your filthy hands off her!” He yelled.

“I was starting to wonder, what a girl gotta do to get into her own club.”

Technically it’s your sisters but semantics. “Y/N,” the manager greeted. You look at the poor man-boy on his knees, with tears streaming down his cheeks before you threw him backwards and on his ass.

“Take the trash out and I want everyone out of the club.”

“Pardon?” The manager choked out.

You didn’t spare him another glance. You just continued walking towards the entrance.

“Did I stutter?”

The manager couldn’t do anything but ask each of his staff to herd everyone out.

***

“Get my seat out, now.” You commanded one of the staff. Everyone knows which one it is. There’s only one seat in the house the Al Ghul’s sat on. You, Cass and Megan, walked towards the bar and ordered a bottle of your favourite drinks each. The best vodka for you, and a bottle of Jack for Megan and Cass.

“Ma’am, your seats are ready.” On the way to the stage, you realized that not everyone has left as you wanted.

“Oh, oh,” Megan tutted behind you. You can feel your anger rising as you watch a table full of leather-clad men ignore you. Flashes of Natasha’s image with the blonde woman keeps surfacing in your head and it’s fueling your anger to rise faster into the surface.

“Boys,” you said when you stood in front of their table. You tried your best not to crinkle your nose in disgust as caught a whiff of the smell of leather, sweat, smoke, and hair gel. They only spared you a glance.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear but I have asked everyone to leave.” You’re trying, for your sister's sake, to be diplomatic. The gang looked up at you and laugh. The one on the middle stared at you in contempt.

“We heard, we just didn’t care.”

You smirked at him. “Well then, you leave me no choice but to drag you out of here myself.”

They laughed so hard, they had tears in their eyes. You, on the other hand, didn’t even flinch. So many have laughed at your face in the past, thinking you were a dog full of bark but has no bite. You’re used to it by now, people, men specifically, belittling you because you’re a woman.

“Bite me,” the gang leader said. He nodded and two of his boys immediately stood and started attacking you.

You started by dodging them first. Especially since you’re wearing a 5 inches heeled boots. When they started closing in the second time, you didn’t hesitate to neutralize them with a hard punch on their solar plexus. Bringing them to their knees and gasping for air. You twisted their necks, efficiently knocking them dead.

You looked back at the gang leader as he stares open-mouthed at his dead comrades.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

He growled before sending all his men, approximately fifteen of them, to attack you all at once. You can faintly hear the sounds of siren closing in on the club but you didn’t care. It's not like these mortals can catch you anyway.

“Shouldn’t we be helping her?” Megan asked worriedly as she sips her jack coke from her seat on the stage.

Cass just shrugged and sat comfortably beside your throne on the stage.

***

One man put his weapon out and aimed it at you. You smiled insidiously at him. You hate people who bring weapons on a gunfight.

“Make it a kill shot or I will tear you apart using my bare hands.”

“I’m bored of watching you play with your food,” Cass yelled. “Finish it.”

You smiled before they started firing at you but you dodged all of them. You glided along the darkroom, taking down everyone on your path. You can smell their fear mixed with the smell of gun powder and blood. Oh, how you missed it. Truly, you love being free from the burdens of being your father’s prodigy but being Osiris is truly freeing.

***

Nat and Carol were pulled from the relaxing evening when Maria called to say that the Vipers, one of the biggest gang in town, is holding hostages at a local night club called the Underworld. They arrived at the scene just as Bucky and Sam did.

“We told Maria we can handle this,” Sam complained. Nat just rolled her pretty green eyes at him.

“No offence but the last time you handled the Vipers, you two almost got killed and that says something since one of you is immortal and the other wielding Captain America’s shield,” Nat retorted. Bucky just chuckled, while Sam huffed.

Carol was busy getting details from the police commander on-site. Before she can come to her team though, the sound of gunfire sounded from inside the building. It was the only cue the Avengers needed to breach the area.

***

It stopped the moment they barged in through the door. The club was dark, and it reeks of the smell of gun powder and blood. You turned at the sound of footsteps. The Avengers can see a lone figure standing in what seems to a pile of dead bodies but that’s it, they couldn’t see your face.

“Hey, you! Hands in the air.” A man with one silver arm yelled.

“Ah! Avengers welcome to the Underworld,” you said cheerfully. Their weapons aimed at you had you chuckling to yourself.

“He said hands in the air.” Now it’s the blonde who spoke. The world tilted and stopped. She can’t see it because the lights in the club were busted by the bullets the ricocheted around but you were glaring at her. She’s the same blonde woman who has her arms around Natasha Romanoff earlier.

“Why would I do that?” Seeing her there was the last straw before the door to the tomb you buried your alter ego finally opened.

Cass and Megan stood on their chair by the stage as they felt the ground shake, and a green aura simmered out of your skin. “Oh shit.”

“Just put your hands in the air and get on your knees.”

“For the redhead, I will but for you, never.” The sound of teasing and mocking evident in your town. Carol is slowly losing her temper, and you can smell it.

“Don’t make me ask again, lady,” Carol said through gritted teeth.

“Or what? You’ll blast me?” You laughed. “I’d like to see you try, Captain Marvel.”

That was it, Carol’s fist glowed and she tried to shoot at you. It blasted through the wall.

“Tsk, tsk, my sisters will have you pay for that wall.” You whispered right beside her ear. She whipped around confused. Everyone was always confused at first. No one knows how you move around so fast, forgetting that you were born of darkness. So darkness and shadows will always be your friends.

“Show yourself, coward.”

“Where’s the fun in that, Captain?”

Out of spite, you super speed towards Bucky and ripped his metal arm off. He cursed out loud. Carol and Nat towards the sound. While distracted you zoomed at Sam and bashed his head on his hand-me-down shield. He groaned in pain before crumpling down the ground. Nat scrambled to help Sam.

You walked silently towards her, leaving only a foot space between you two. You desperately wished you could touch her but she’s not yours to hold. Then Carol came over to help, and you watch like a stupid martyr as they look at each other lovingly.

Carol Danvers. Strong, brave, and good af.

You shook your head. You were delusional to think you ever had a chance with Natasha Romanoff before. How much more now that you’ve embraced your true nature.

You walked away. Cass and Megan waiting on the fire exit for you.

#drabble #mini series #dc x marvel characters #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanova x reader #black widow x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #natasha romanoff x carol danvers #carol danvers x natasha romanoff #carolnat #carolnat imagine #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #scarlett johansson imagine #cheating death series #cheating death #raven writes

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fanficshiddles · 5 years ago

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Caught in his web, Chapter 6

Chloe barely slept that night, she was sore and scared. She’d spent part of it in the shower again, crying.

She was also sure she went a bit delusional, as in the middle of the night she could’ve sworn that Loki entered her room and sat on her bedside, speaking softly to her while stroking her hair in a soothing manner.

‘No need to be scared, pet. I will take care of you.’ Were words that kept ringing her mind, in his voice. But she had been so tired, she couldn’t be sure if that had actually happened or not. And where did he come from? As she was almost certain it hadn’t been from the door, she’d been facing it while she lay in bed but never saw it opening when he suddenly appeared next to her.

In the morning, she was still in bed trying to get some sort of sleep when there was a knock and then the door swung open. To her horror, it was Ethan. She instantly scrambled back on the bed, dragging the blanket up with her.

Ethan smiled at her and closed the door with his foot, because he was carrying a tray.

‘Loki had the maid cook this for you for breakfast. And he wants you to take this, too.’ Ethan said, motioning to a pill that was in a small shots cup next to the plate of food.

‘What is it?’ She asked, her voice sounded small and more vulnerable than yesterday, Ethan noticed.

‘It’s the morning after pill. Loki said you must take it, one way or another. So I suggest you take it yourself, or I will have to force it down you like a dog.’ He said in warning.

Chloe didn’t feel like she had the energy to fight. And she certainly didn’t want that big brute forcing a pill down her throat.

She didn’t look at Ethan as she grabbed the pill and swallowed it quickly. It wasn’t like she wanted to get pregnant anyway. But she certainly hoped that Loki wasn’t going to take her without protection regularly, surely taking the morning after pill often wasn’t a good thing? Hell, she didn’t even want him to take her with protection.

‘Eat up.’ Ethan said and left her to it, with the tray on the bed beside her.

Chloe looked at the tray and part of her wanted to throw it at Ethan. But then, it was more Loki she was angry with. And the food did look delicious. Various fruits with a few different flavours of yogurt and fresh apple juice.

So she decided to tuck in instead of wasting it.

‘Did she take it?’ Loki asked Ethan when he entered his room. Loki was just putting on his suit jacket and sorting his tie, the same one he had used to restrain her wrists last night.

‘She did, without any arguments.’ Ethan nodded, waiting by the door.

‘Good. Maybe she will start to see sense today.’ Loki grinned, looking at himself in the mirror.

‘Do you want me to stay here by her door and make sure she doesn’t leave?’ Ethan offered.

‘No need. She’s not a prisoner, she can leave her room and go wherever she wants in the house. Once she has earned my trust, she will be allowed to come and go as she pleases with an escort.

Hopefully by the time her College starts in a few months she will be at that stage.’ Loki put on his leather gloves then followed Ethan out.

Nelson was waiting outside for them, he opened the car door for Loki and Ethan to pile into. Samuel was already in the car, waiting for them.

‘Is he there?’ Loki asked.

‘Yep. He has no clue why you’ve called him in for a chat.’ Samuel confirmed.

‘Excellent. The element of surprise is always the best.’ Loki grinned wickedly.

When they pulled up outside Loki’s building, he felt the usual surge of pride shoot through him. This was all his, as was a lot of the big company buildings in London. But this one, was all his and everyone knew it.

They walked in and it was bustling with energy as always. Workers going about, getting ready to start work for the day. The receptionist greeted him with the usual smile and good morning, Sir and he reciprocated with a wink, making her blush.

He continued on with Ethan and Samuel into the lift, then waited patiently while they headed up to the top floor where his office was. Of course, all the lower floors were a façade for the building. A company that dealt in selling and renting houses and other buildings. Loki quite literally owned a very high percentage of the property market in the city.

When they got into Loki’s office, there was a man waiting there for him.

‘Mr Laufeyson.’ He said nervously, putting his hand out.

‘Good to see you, Mike.’ Loki smiled, shaking his hand firmly after taking off his gloves.

Mike was shaking and Loki could feel that in his hand shake. It happened quite regularly that Loki dealt with people who were scared of him. It always gave him a bit of a rush, actually.

‘You… wanted to see me, Sir?’ Mike said as Loki went around to his side of the desk and took off his jacket, draping it over the back of his chair.

‘I did indeed. I wanted to ask why your company is behind on paying its bills?’ Loki asked firmly, sitting down on his leather chair.

Mike looked slightly shocked. ‘I… well, we haven’t been doing as well this year. Money has been a bit tight.’

‘And that is your problem. You are due money for rent, you’re in a contract that stipulates you pay monthly.’

‘I… I thought it was Mr Walsh’s company that rented out the company to me.’ Mike said, he looked over his shoulder and swallowed hard when he noticed that Ethan and Samuel were standing by the door, guarding it.

‘It is. But do you know who has recently bought his company and is now chasing up late payments?’ Loki raised an eyebrow at Mike. Whose face had dropped completely.

‘Yo… Yo… You?’

‘Correct. Now, are you able to pay me my fifteen grand by the end of today?’ Loki tapped his fingers on the desk.

‘Fifteen grand? It’s only ten grand I’m due!’ Mike said in a panic.

‘You’ve been overdue for a long time. And it will keep going up until you either pay me, or I lose my patience with you.’ Loki said calmly, staring him down.

‘There’s no way I will be able to pay that much.’

‘Is that so?’ Loki folded his arms over his chest. ‘Well, you either pay me what I am due or I will need to take something else from you.’

‘I don’t have anything else…’

‘Oh you do.’ Loki stood up and walked around his desk towards him. ‘You own Langfield college.’

Mike’s eyes widened in horror. ‘No. It… it isn’t for sale.’ He tried to sound brave, but it wasn’t working.

‘Well, if you don’t give it to me, then I will have no other option but to take it by force. And believe me, I will get what I want.’ He snarled.

Mike had bought Langfield college over ten years ago. But Loki had his eye on it for a while, for… certain reasons… and now the perfect opportunity had arisen to gain said college.

‘But… what would you want with a college? It’s not like you can earn much money from it. It’s just where people go to learn.’ Mike didn’t understand what someone like Loki would want it for.

‘I know what a college is, Mike.’ He hissed. ‘I have my reasons for wanting it. So are you going to give it to me? And all your debt will be wiped away, just like that. And, because I am a reasonable man, you can have free rent with your company for the next ten years. So as you say, you don’t earn much money from the college so why not concentrate on your company instead? I’d say that’s fair, no?’ Loki leaned back on his desk, awaiting his answer.

Mike sighed and looked down, realising he had no other option. ‘Alright. I’ll give you Langfield college. But I beg you, please don’t take away the fundings for the college.’ Mike thought Loki wanted it just to steal from the students and take all their funding.

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Oh I won’t. On the contrary, I intend to put more money into the college. The amount you’ve been putting in of late is abysmal.’

‘It’s not easy trying to pay the teachers a good sum, for all the work they do. Then there’s materials and not to mention grounds work and the living accommodations.’ Mike said in defence, but Loki didn’t believe him. He had seen the figures, he knew that Mike or someone else was fiddling with them. He was going to find out who it was, and he would make sure whoever it was, was properly seen to.

It was no secret that the college had been struggling the last few years, meaning that parents and students themselves were having to pay more for their loans. Loan repayments were way higher than they used to be, a way for the college to get more money in. But it was working because it was a really good college.

‘Well, I will soon find out just how difficult it is to own one.’ Loki said smugly, shutting him up. ‘I will have my solicitor draw up a contract, I will be in touch when it’s ready for you to come and sign over.’

Loki put his hand out towards him again and Mike hesitated before shaking hands. Sealing the deal.

Chloe had spent the morning moping around in the bedroom. She didn’t even try the door to see if it was unlocked, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do.

She spent some time sitting by the window, looking outside. To her surprise, it didn’t look like she had expected. He lived down a dead-end street that had a mini roundabout, with other fancy but normal houses around. Her window looked out to the house next door, there was a bit of gravel and a garage on the side of Loki’s house, then a huge fence and the next house.

She’d watched two kids playing football in their front garden for a while. Then she saw a girl about her age heading out on her own. It made her wonder if she would ever feel that kind of freedom again or not. Heck, Chloe didn’t even think she would be allowed out of this room alone.

Then her mind wandered to college, that she was supposed to start in just over two months’ time... Langfield college. When she’d went to visit, it was perfect. She had planned to live on site, her parents had been able to pay for most of it then she was going to take out a loan. But now, she had no idea what was going to happen.

She could see part of the road out her window and recognised the fancy ass car coming down the road to the house, she knew that was Loki and his goons returning…

#Loki #Tom Hiddleston #fan fiction #au!Loki #caught in his web

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