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siren-dragon · 3 years

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Cultural Studies -- The Cat Returns fanfic

Hello again, guess who wrote another one-shot! Anyway, this prompt came to me (along with several others, lol) so I decided to write something for it. Also, big thanks to everyone who enjoyed my first story. Also, Haru’s outfit is based on the yukata from the Love Nikki game and I may draw something for this story at a later date. Anyway, please enjoy!

AO3 story link Tagging: @mysticsoulgirl

Prompt: Summer Fireworks Festival

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Though the Sanctuary, and by extension the Cat Bureau itself, experienced many a visitor wishing for assistance with one thing or another- it wasn’t exactly a stationary place. True, anyone could follow Muta from the Crossroads and through the twists and turns of Japan’s alleys to locate the entryway arch, but that wasn’t truly the Bureau’s physical location. Anyone who was in need could find the Sanctuary entrance, all they had to do was merely look for it. So, while Baron was not unaccustomed to a variety of clients (even if the quantity seemed to have diminish over the years), it was always a study in new cultures when a guest appeared. Even when the cat figurine made a point to be open and courteous to a visitor, there were often a few things he gained new knowledge of.

“A fireworks festival? I’m afraid I’ve not heard of such a thing before.” He spoke, handing Haru a now size-appropriate cup thanks to the Bureau’s magic.

The dark brunette offered a small word of thanks and a bright smile before continuing. “Really? Oh, they’re great fun. Originally it was started as a festival for the dead; to mourn the lost one while celebrating life. But nowadays it’s just a fun activity to watch while eating festival food with friends.”

“Did I hear someone mention food?” Muta spoke, closing the front door behind him. “Hey Chicky, you bring any snacks with you today?”

From the upstairs balcony came a snort of displeasure. “You ever think of anything aside from your stomach,” Toto drawled, rolling his eyes at the cat’s one-track mind.

“What was that birdbrain?!”

“Oh, come on, think of a new insult piggy-cat!”

Before the fight could escalate anymore Haru, now a more convenient size for Baron’s home, rose from her seat on the sofa and lifted a bag where the scent of sugar and fresh fruit wafted throughout the room. “If you two are going to fight, then Baron and I will eat this by ourselves- including the mulberries I got special for you Toto.”

Both cat and crow immediately silenced themselves before tossing a glare at the other, “You got lucky, big chicken.”

“Sure thing, marshmallow.”

Baron sighed, taking out the necessary cutlery before Muta decided to forego the use of utensils. “Muta, have you experienced such festivals in the Human Realm?”

“What festivals?”

“The fireworks festival coming up this weekend,” Haru clarified as she handed Toto the collection of mulberries she brought.

It was here that the ex-con feline grinned, “oh yeah. Gotta love summer festivals in Japan with all their fried food and sweets. Best time to be a cat.”

Toto snickered, “why am I not surprised; you only think from your stomach.”

“Shut up!”

“There’s also games where you can win prizes and some shops as well. And at the end there is large fireworks show everyone watches to celebrate the summer season.” It was here that Haru’s excited smile seemed to dim slightly, “I was going to go with Hiromi, but she has a family reunion to attend. And my Mom will be out of town during that weekend- so I’ll just be watching it from my house.”

As a figurine being made out of wood, anything associated with fire was typically something Baron tried to actively avoid. And while he would deny it fervently later onto a rather smug looking Muta and Toto, the slightly disheartened expression on Haru’s face sent a rather unpleasant sensation through his chest sent nearly all thoughts of self-preservation out the window. It reminded him of their previous adventure in the Cat Kingdom; with her clad in a fine, pale-yellow gown and wearing a look of absolute despair despite it having been her so called “wedding day”. And so, it was not 2 seconds later that he found the words tumbling from his lips without any kind of second thought.

“Perhaps we can accompany you to this festival instead, Haru.”

That certainly caused the brunette to stare at him in surprise, yet a spark of joy danced within her caramel eyes. “Really? You guys would want to go with me?”

“Hey, if there’s food then you can count me in.” Muta shrugged, finishing his slice of chiffon cake.

Toto nodded, “I’m sure it’d be a great experience; what with the lack of clients to the Bureau.”

Haru beamed brightly with sheer delight, “Thank you everyone, I’m sure you all will love it!”

When Haru had finally left for the day, a definite spring in her step, Muta couldn’t help but turn a sly grin to his fellow feline. “Well, that was rather generous of you to volunteer us for something you didn’t even know about till 30 minutes ago.”

“I’m not sure what you are inquiring Muta. It was quite clear that Miss Haru was looking forward to this festival and it would be unbecoming of a gentleman to allow her to merely remain home alone and miss the event entirely.”

Toto nodded, “I have to say, I agree with Baron on this one. But I don’t think it was that difficult to persuade you after that melancholic expression crossed her face.”

Baron gave a displeased frown to his colleague’s rambunctious laughter, which did nothing to hide the slight tint of pink beneath his cream-colored fur. Honestly, since when was chivalrous behavior become a source of mockery? And yet… the sight of Haru’s joyful smile was more than worth it.

“So, are you going to wear a yukata?”

“A what?”

That answer only made the hefty white cat laugh louder.

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“Muta… are you quite sure that this garment is placed on correctly.”

“If the picture is anything to go by, then yeah. Besides; you can’t wear a suit with tails to a summer festival- you’ll stick out too much.” The large cat answered, glancing down at the newspaper advertisement in his hands before looking back to his much shorter friend. “Hmm, I think that’s right.”

“You idiot, tie for the sash is supposed to be in the back.” Toto commented, taking the advertisement with his beak to compare the image to Baron’s new attire. “See, there isn’t a giant bow in the front.”

“Okay first, it’s called an obi and second, stop butting in birdbrain!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you knew what you were doing, fluff-ball!”

Baron was going to attempt to silence their bickering before the sash about his waist loosened slightly causing the robe to flutter open and expose part of his chest and collarbone before the ginger feline took hold of the garment’s sides and quickly held them closed. He briefly wondered if it would perhaps be better to merely wear his typical suit before a knock sounded on the door- halting Muta and Toto’s argument. The crow quickly flew toward the door and swiftly opened the door to reveal Haru. She too was clad in a traditional yukata of navy blue with ivory and cream-colored stars swirling around a crescent moon at the hem of the dress before continuing upward. The sash wrapped around her waist took on a pale blue color while the right sleeve of her dress shifted colors; with the stars now dark and the fabric white shade. Though her hair was cut short, it was still pinned back by a blue, yellow, and orange silk flower with the latter two colors matching the shade of his own fur. To be perfectly honest, she looked quite breath-taking.

“Baron are you wearing a yukata?” She grinned, noticing his change of attire immediately which only made the statuette cling to the folds of the loosened robe all the more tightly. “I didn’t even know you had one!”

“Well, Muta saw fit to inform me this is the traditional attire for a summer festival so it is a recent addition to my wardrobe. However, I seem to be having a bit of trouble actually dressing.” He answered, unable to prevent the sigh from leaving his lips at his current dishevelment.

Haru giggled, placing her small bag on the sofa before approaching him. “Don’t worry, it’s always challenging for a first-timer. Here, you just need a little bit of adjusting…”

Despite his attempt to remain calm at the innocent offer, Baron couldn’t help the heat rushing to his face as Haru approached and began shifting the obi about his waist he had attempted to tie on earlier. He still kept his hand clenched about the folds of the yukata as Haru expertly straightened the robe, to which he gave her a very grateful smile. Soon he was now properly clothed, even wearing the haori properly before Haru stepped back to admire her handy work (though Baron felt a slight twinge of disappointment at her shift away from him). “There we go, a perfect fit.”

“Thank you, Haru. And may I say, you look lovely as well.”

She beamed at his reply as she moved to retrieve her bag. “Thanks Baron. But if you wanted to wear a yukata, I could have helped you find one.”

Muta shook his head, “that would have ruined the surprise Chicky. Plus, nothing was more amusing than watching Baron try to put it on.”

“As always, your assistance is greatly appreciated Muta.” Baron replied dryly, remembering the past hour where both his friends tried to guide him in how to wear the clothes.

As they walked through the archway of the Sanctuary, Muta walked ahead of them now on all fours while Toto took to the skies. However, as soon as Baron exited alongside Haru, he grew till he was once more a head taller than the dark-haired young woman instead of a foot-tall figurine. But the fact that his feline appearance remained gave Haru pause- knowing most would not really take the appearance of a half-cat man kindly (even if people believed it to be a ridiculously realistic mask). But it seemed her thoughts were rather evident on her face, because Baron was quick to assuage her fears. “Do not worry Haru, there is a spell in place masking my real appearance. You are the only one who can see the truth.”

“I didn’t know you can use such spells, Baron.” She asked curiously.

He nodded, offering his arm to her which she gladly accepted. “Yes, though I am afraid they are only temporary. But I thought this would make our evening engagement far more enjoyable without any disturbances from bewildered onlookers.”

“It’s no trouble at all, actually I think it’s a good idea. It does make me curious as to how your disguise looks.”

Baron paused and gestured to the glass window of a shop they were walking past, “see for yourself.”

Turning to the window, Haru looked at Baron’s reflection nearly jumped in alarm upon not seeing the familiar feline characteristics she had come to cherish. Instead, the face of a young man who looked a few years older than herself gazed back at her from the reflection. His hair was a light tawny blonde the same shade as Baron’s fur, perfectly coiffed to suit the Creation’s usual debonair attire. Where once fur and whiskers existed was now fair skin and a rather amused smile taking in her slightly bewildered expression. Yet despite the disguise, Haru took comfort in the fact that Baron’s eyes were still the same shade of mint-green.

“That is rather impressive, if a bit shocking at first.” She laughed a little nervously.

Baron frowned, “does it bother you too much?”

“No, it’s not that,” she answered with a shake of her head before beaming up at him. “I just prefer you the way you are, that’s all.”

It was the second time in the past few days that Baron found his words failing him once again at her kind, yet honest words.

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Perhaps the first thing that caught Baron’s attention were the vibrant banners illuminated by dozens of lights and lanterns. The street was lined with colorful booths, each hosting a different attraction as friends and families traveled back and forth to every single one. It was a rather jarring change from the peace and quiet of the Cat Bureau, but as he glanced down at the excited grin on Haru’s face as she enthusiastically explained each booth’s function, Baron couldn’t help the pleased smile drifting across his face. “So then, what would you recommend we do first?”

“Food, I’m starving!” Muta cried from about their legs before he bolted down the street, causing several people to laugh at the rather large cat obviously following the scent of frying food. “Takoyaki, here I come!”

Haru laughed, “well, food always is a good choice. Though we’d best pace ourselves, festival food is great, but not exactly healthy.”

“Then I shall follow your lead, Haru.” Baron added, glancing around briefly with a bit of confusion drifting across his face, “I must admit, I thought a fireworks festival would have more of that particular attraction.”

“That happens at the end of the night, mainly because it’ll be darker and it’ll give us a chance to see most of the booths before we have to find seats to watch the fireworks. But we’d best find Muta before he manages to pilfer too many snacks.”

Baron chuckled, “I think it’s more of his charming attitude that wins him such favors.”

Haru couldn’t help but laugh at that, and judging from the faint cawing above their heads, Toto heard it as well. “Well, we’d best hurry before that charm gets a bit carried away.”

The couple soon found their way further into the festival and managed to find Muta, who looked rather smug at having charmed a piece of taiyaki from a group of teenage girls. True to her word, Haru managed to procure a few treats for them all to try, ranging from takoyaki to kakigori to some onigiri before they walked to where Toto waited upon a nearby but isolated tree. Muta had nearly claimed all of the takoyaki while Toto took a liking to the plain onigiri and the roasted chestnuts Baron was eating. Though Baron was not overly found of the deep-fried food, he couldn’t deny that the kakigori Haru offered was quite delicious.

As the sun soon sank below the horizon and the sky turned dark with the coming night, many people started moving away from the bright lights of the festival stalls to await the oncoming fireworks display. “We don’t really want to be too close to all the larger crowds, so we’ll stay on the outskirts instead.” Haru informed them, taking a seat beside the grass. “And I wanted to thank you guys again, for coming with me.”

“Nonsense Haru, this was most enjoyable and we were happy to accompany you.”

“Even though you had to forgo your suit?” She replied with a teasing grin.

Baron gave a slightly sheepish look, “I will admit that dressing did pose quite the challenge, but well worth the effort.”

“Even still, thank you for being such a good sport about it. And I’m glad you had a good time.” Haru chimed happily, turning to look at the ever-growing groups awaiting the final event of the festival. “Hopefully we’ll be able to see everything with so many people…”

“Well, we merely need a seat with a view; and I believe I may have a solution.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The ginger gentle-cat only offered her a hand with a secret smile, “Just trust me.”

At the familiar words, Haru rested her hand upon his and watched as the world around them seemed to stretch upward as her height plummeted to its usual size whenever she visited the Bureau. Toto then landed beside them, offering a place upon his back with Baron holding on tightly the Stone Creations black feathers and Haru wrapping her arms about his waist. Once they were situated on the now gigantic crow, Toto rose high into the air (though not before snatching Muta in his claws much to the large cat’s displeasure while muttering something that sounded like “always a showoff.”) before gliding through the evening sky.

They were only flying for a few minutes before a high-pitched whistle sounded only to be followed by a large explosion of white and gold lights as the fireworks show began. Haru watched in silent amazement as they soared the atmosphere as each of the colorful illuminations danced around them like falling stars. She a joyful laugh at sheer sight of the fireworks show from a literal bird’s eye perspective, “alright, now this is a view.”

“I must agree,” Baron added, though it was hard to hear over the sound of the fireworks.

Moving her head forward, Haru placed a gentle kiss upon Baron’s fur-covered cheek before leaning to rest her cheek against his back. “Just for the record, this is the best fireworks festival I’ve ever been to.”

And for the third time in Haru’s presence, Baron found himself at a loss for words as a pleasing warmth started to overcome his face. Yet as he turned to watch the brilliant lights display with the young woman beside him, he had to admit that it certainly was an enjoyable evening.

#the cat returns #neko no ongaeshi #baron humbert von gikkingen #haru yoshioka #renaldo moon #muta #toto (cat returns)#haru x baron #fanfiction #summer festival #fireworks #flustered baron gives me life #fluffy fic #one shot #my writing

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omgkalyppso · 3 years

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The Unforgotten King

A Dimimari drabble that fits into Fae's post canon.

The icy winds pouring down from the frigid Fraldarian mountains were starting to upset the horses with how cold they were. Many roads this far north were impassable for carriages; even the main roads, which in many cases were the only option, were made to constrict the approach of enemies and allies alike, venturing to and from the historically chaotic northern border, and the capital to the south.

They had come first by boat and then followed the trade routes carved out by the fishing villages on the eastern coast.

Marianne held her scarf against the chill, wincing and shaking her head about Dimitri, with his scarf pulled down around his smile as he spoke about his homeland. He'd long ago let his hat fall back around his shoulders, secured by a cord about his neck, and his bound hair was a tangle as a result of the gales. He was going home, and it was as clear in his person as it was in his temperament. His nose and cheeks were pink and frozen, and his beard was gelid with frost, but the Faerghan climate suited him. Marianne even suspected that the temperature might have been harsh on another man's injuries, but Dimitri was only livelier by the mile.

Some might have said he was as a boy gone to the fair, but she knew him too well now, and could see the flit of his eye as he watched the forests. He was fighting his hauntings and his memories of war, and trusting her and their guard with his insecurities. A vast improvement when compared to the dreary state of his heart and mind during the year or two past.

Marianne had worried that despite Dimitri's growth, that returning to Faerghus was going to upset him and his friends, when he and they found him without the crown, without the armour and attire one expected of a king, and with the continued trauma of never having achieved his vengeance. She was overjoyed that it was nothing so simple.

"Do you see how the trees have turned from green to blue here?" Dimitri asked, gesturing to the evergreens, brightening as Marianne nodded. "They say the Goddess took pity on the verdant evergreens of Fodlan after her first ice storm, and blessed all the trees north of Conand River with a piece of her home on the Blue Sea Star, that they might from then on weather the storms."

Marianne held her scarf from her face as she replied, "They're quite beautiful. I hear they house wildlife too? I would have expected we'd only find migratory birds out in these temperatures."

"It would be wonderful to hear an owl at night," Dimitri mused. "You are right, though. There are a variety of creatures in the underbrush."

"As stubborn as any Faerghan," Marianne joked. "Although I suspect, in regards to your tale of a blessing, that similar accounts are told of the seas themselves, rather than only of Faerghan forests. Anything blue."

Dimitri had blushed and laughed awkwardly at Marianne's initial declaration, knowing that it was true that sailors in Faerghus were revered and worried perhaps even that he had misremembered his own short yarn, but then he'd smiled and contributed softly, "It is a color dear to my heart."

"Because of your house banner?" Marianne asked as if to confirm, offering Dimitri no space to argue. "Perhaps a square or kerchief could be sewn in one of your pillows? Or some other secret space? I am sorry that you're only clad as one of my guards."

Dimitri shook his head. "An honor. I am glad to ride beside you, Mari— my lady, and ... maybe with the right materials, I could try to award myself with the gift you suggest. It would be a small and challenging project for a man of my extremely limited skill."

Upon their arrival at the manor in Fraldarius, they were escorted to the entrance hall, where Dimitri embarrassed Rodrigue with a bow and an embrace.

"Dimitri," Rodrigue said softly, as a reprimand and a prayer, testing the name, free of title and ornamentation. "It is good to see you again. If Felix had not seen you himself, I would have assumed a ruse or extortion." He pulled away, a hand still on his once and fallen king's shoulder. "To bury you, would be as burying another son—"

"Rodrigue—" Dimitri said, meaning to interrupt.

"Humor me," he begged. "Hear me. Not only am I proud to host you, in secret, in public, but should you ever need a home in Faerghus, we will never turn you away." Rodrigue swept a tear from his eyes, "Hm. I think you'll find my lack of decorum is your fault, for hugging me first—"

"My sincerest—"

Rodrigue chuckled. "Don't apologize. Just know that I intended to be more reserved, for the sake of Lady Marianne, if not for that of my son."

"Where is Felix?" asked Dimitri, as a door to the entrance hall opened at the top of a far stair, and Felix, Annette, Sylvain and Ingrid rushed out of it.

Although Felix had been to visit him in Margrave Edmund's territory three times, Dimitri could not suppress his joy at his friend's reveal, and after Rodrigue's admission, he could either hope that Felix too thought of him more fondly, or else worry that he needed to apologize to the younger Fraldarius for what he'd inspired in his father. "Felix!"

Dimitri spared a glance for Marianne, who waved him off delicately so that he could rush to his friends at the base of the stair. She shared a far more respectable greeting with Duke Fraldarius.

"Wait—!" Felix started to object, but too late or with too little conviction to keep Dimitri from fitting his arms around him and Ingrid and squeezing them to his chest.

Ingrid laughed happily, and Felix scoffed when Sylvain was greeted with only a joined hand and a clap on the shoulder, though Annette then jumped into Dimitri's arms.

"I half worried it was an exaggeration," Dimitri said softly. "That you all could make it."

"Mercedes and Dedue's boat is expected tomorrow," Sylvain said to assure him.

"Ashe won't be here for a week," Annette lamented as her feet hit the floor, "but I hear that will be long enough to see you?"

"I won't leave before," Dimitri promised. "It would break my heart if his journey from Gaspard was fruitless."

"Did you know that he needed to wait for Linhardt to take up residence in Gaspard?" asked Ingrid. "To deter the Adrestians from overreaching — even now."

"As well as general rebellion," Felix supplied. "Things aren't exactly settled that far west."

"You're helping him?" Dimitri confirmed, and a part of his heart stirred to be able to have this conversation with Felix in person, rather than over a period of days by letter.

"Fhirdiad's helping him," Felix said and then frowned when the others around Dimitri looked at him more directly, and corrected himself. "Yes, I'm helping him."

Fhirdiad had been Felix's home and his charge these past few years. He had taken up the title of Archduke and wielded his role with purpose. He always intended to return to Fraldarius, imagining that there would be an opportunity to suggest another lord be honoured with the capital region, but some days he worried he had sealed his fate. His father, and Sylvain, were less subtle in their matching inquiries about his return, but it seemed all others were slowly becoming accustomed to him sitting in that place of kings in the more temperate south.

"I appreciate it," Dimitri said carefully.

"There'll be plenty of time to worry about the shadow of dissent tomorrow," Sylvain said, looking to change the subject. "What are you wearing?"

"Oh," Dimitri said in surprise, looking down at himself, dressed as a Leicester soldier in wool and armour.

"Are you warm enough?" asked Annette, turning over a side of his cloak to assess its thickness.

Dimitri chuckled. "I'm plenty warm, I—"

"How many layers is that?" Ingrid inquired critically.

"Do the rest of Marianne's escorts have hats like this?" asked Sylvain, propping Dimitri's upon his golden hair.

"Four. No, most have wool lined leather caps."

"Four? Like this? That's not enough," Ingrid worried.

"We'll warm him with drink and games," Sylvain suggested. "Maybe dancing if Annette feels like singing?"

Annette squeaked in protest, but Felix spoke first.

"You're being ridiculous. Dimitri's had a long ride—"

Dimitri's lips tightened to hear Felix call him by name, and he spoke gently, worried he might break this simple spell of friendship when he spoke in favour of Sylvain's suggestions, "I think it would be nice to drink with everyone, but I might like to bathe first. I fear as soon as I loosen my collar my sweat will thaw from where it's frozen upon me."

Three exaggerated tongues of disgust extended in sympathy.

"Do you want to stay inside?" asked Felix. "Wood fires can heat baths in the lower levels."

"Oh, no, lets show Marianne the hot springs," Annette said, as if pleading with Dimitri, though he would have agreed without any provocation.

"I would like that," he agreed, looking at Felix for permission.

With an expression of vague annoyance, Felix nodded, and then he and Dimitri each glanced to where Marianne continued her conversation with Rodrigue.

There was a social element to the hot springs that Marianne feared, but Sylvain made a joke that set her at ease, and challenged her to try the new experience.

Dimitri half expected Felix to return home after dutifully guiding their group to their destination, and thanked him for his continued company and conversation, such as it was, while they sat together in the steaming water. Sylvain was kind and assertive, inspecting Dimitri's right side as he stretched his arm and took advantage of the heat, to massage strong fingers into his shoulder.

Elsewhere, Ingrid and Annette had Marianne giggling as the trio raced from the spring to the snow and back again each time they grew over-red from being boiled together.

Later, they drank and reminisced, and Ingrid pulled Dimitri aside, to reaffirm that she would have been his knight and protector ... and that she still would, if he wanted to pursue his place in Fhirdiad. She saw no reason to defer to the law in Garreg Mach when Faerghus could still have its own king, and if not that, then at least he could be recognized, as the rest of them were, within Fodlan's nobility.

The shock that overtook Dimitri frightened her, when she had only meant to offer him his ancestral home, and the respect many had died to get him.

Sylvain and Felix were in listening distance, and Ingrid had known that; the four of them looked to Marianne, weaving Annette's hair in a five strand braid, while they spoke of seals and bears and other creatures that plagued the harbours.

Felix hissed about how Ingrid would throw them from one war into another, reminding her that Dimitri was hidden away precisely to avoid what she was suggesting: that there would be people willing to die for their rightful king to reclaim his place in Fhirdiad.

Everything would change if Dimitri returned, and they'd lose the trust of the Adrestians, especially Ferdinand, when they had already been caught in another lie.

"You can't come back," Felix said to finish his argument. Aggressive, nervous, cruel.

"Dimitri should be given a choice now that he's recovered," Ingrid said, firm.

"He's recovering," Sylvain insisted.

With a great expression of self control, Dimitri maintained his volume as he declared for his friends' forgotten benefit, "I am right here." He waited for the shame to silence them before he went on. "And things are not ... how I envisioned them — how I wanted them? My mind and upbringing feel ... wasteful, at times; and yet I have been consulted," he sighed, "on strategy and trade, customs and etiquette — by Felix and Marianne both. My input is heard in Faerghus and Leicester, and if I willed it, I am sure that Garreg Mach is within my reach ... even Almyra."

Sylvain raised his tankard in salute as he walked away then, seeing that a fight wasn't about to break out, and that Dimitri had their conversation well in hand. He complimented Annette's hair, and strove to further distract the ladies from the dark turn of that other corner of the room.

"If Faerghus was threatened, I would find my way back here, lance in hand. But I trust the peace that's been building. And the crown, as it was, only invited duplicity and massacres. Faerghus will thrive without me." With one arm he embraced Ingrid, pressing a kiss to her temple. "And Sylvain is right, I have been recovering. I would not risk all of Faerghus' progress, all of your work," his eyes drifted to Felix for a moment, "because I could not accept the truth of what a minister said. I still struggle. I am more comfortable with smaller challenges ... and I would appreciate your reassurance of our friendship as I am."

"Of course, Mitya," Ingrid insisted.

"Thank you."

"I miss you," Ingrid clarified. "I miss... The lives I thought I'd have by now."

"Change is painful," Felix agreed, sharp and forgiving.

"Yours is a life worth celebrating," Dimitri promised. He drank at the same time as his old friends, and then fumbled after, worried about sounding too much like his healers, but still he added, "Take time to recognize success."

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by Marianne and Annette hollering with laughter, and Dimitri could not even imagine Marianne's disappointment in him if in returning to Fhirdiad he brought a new conflict to her doorstep. He could not imagine his own heartbreak if their peoples ever returned to bloodshed. Sadly, he had imagined his horror with the possibility of witnessing another day like the tragedy, his blue love desecrated, their hypothetical children screaming, and him again, a lone survivor.

He would not speak of this in casual conversation with his friends, though perhaps in private with Marianne at some later time.

He was grateful for his anonymity.

It was late in the night when they made for bed, and Marianne was as drunk as he, and Dimitri worried between her state and their locale that he shouldn't have followed behind the door of her rooms. They had lain together a handful of times, but not for weeks now, yet she pressed him against the door like it was a casual thing, delicate fingers curving over his hips.

They leaned close as if they might kiss, and then she turned her face away from him with a sigh.

"I hope I haven't made a fool of myself. Did you have a good night, Mitya?"

"Beloved," Dimitri beckoned, curving a large hand around the side of her face, his scarred fingers had been mended and shattered an embarrassing number of times in the early use of his Crest. He guided her to look at him, his shining blue eye, deep as the ocean in the dark of the room.

"Thank you for bringing me here," he said, his tone deep and sincere. "The snow, the culture, my friends... I missed them more than I realized. I've had a very good night."

His last sentence was near whispered upon her lips, his thick lower lip tickling against her mouth.

Eyes closed, Marianne hummed her approval, bumping her nose against Dimitri's; narrow and then bulbous, a pretty princely feature that somehow he still maintained despite the violence in his life.

He bent to kiss Marianne, his hands finding her upper arms, her shoulders, her neck, and her twin braids, a gift from Annette that extended nearly to Marianne's waist.

"I should let you sleep," Dimitri whispered, though he felt how Marianne's hands wandered, pressing his shirt against the muscles on his chest and stomach.

Marianne looked from her bed to Dimitri. "Let me sit," she requested, "and I'll untie your hair. Stay with me a while longer." She swayed a little and Dimitri worried he would have to catch her. "Your friends are kind," Marianne confided, "but it felt a little strange as the night wore on, and maybe it's just me, and maybe it's just the building, but I know I can rely on you. Say you'll stay."

"A while longer," Dimitri agreed, drifting a thumb through her bangs as his hand rested on the side of her tightly bound hair again.

He sat between her knees while she pulled the ribbon from his fine hair, carefully carding through it with her fingers around the strap of his eye patch, and then allowing her hands to find the muscles of his neck, thick from stress and training.

One dainty foot made it's way over one of Dimitri's monstrous shoulders, and he brought the opposite one over his other side, leaning back into Marianne's space so her skirt ballooned out around him. They shared a soft laugh.

"Did you have any trouble today?" Marianne asked, gentle in her approach of his occasional visions.

"I thought of Glenn," Dimitri confided, "but I am uncertain if I saw him or imagined him today. There are many memories of him here. And ... at the gates, I ... I saw some violence that was not there, but I could not hear it. I'll write it down tomorrow."

"Tell me about Glenn? There must be a happy memory tucked into what came to mind."

"He would have made you feel welcome," Dimitri insisted with a smile. "He was very personable, and I was always glad to be in his company — though I was always closer with Felix, and so thought, like Felix, that I was in contest with him. Unless my Crest activated, I was always left embarrassed, and regardless of whether my Crest activated, I always lost. Felix was often disappointed in both of us."

Dimitri spoke of friends like family until well after Marianne curled up on her side. He stayed on the floor, and spoke with less frequency, though the memories didn't fade. He could picture Glenn on the opposite side of the room, a macabre spectre of the self from his memories, but it wasn't a hallucination this time, just a horrible imagining, the loss of a friend.

Dimitri kissed Marianne's forehead, and she mumbled that she was still awake, despite sounding as if she were miles away. Still, Dimitri smiled and kissed her lips, just in case, and then left for his own chamber.

#dimimari #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #marianne von edmund #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #long post #my writing #i made this #the fanfiction i mean #i'll probably put this on ao3 later #this is what i was writing to Maybe address things i find attractive about dimitri though it turned into something else entirely

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reinersbb · 3 years

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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 [𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] Chapter Five- Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy PT.1

Chapter Five Part One of Forget

Orange, black, and purple plastic solo cups littered the dewy grass along with other miscellaneous speckles of trash- some cups still retaining remnants of alcohol. Only ten o'clock at night and there was already a headache of a cleanup worth of mess outside on the front lawn. There was no telling how much worse it would be on the inside where the heart and soul of the party was. But it's not like after-party cleanup would be your problem to deal with.

Carved jack-o-lanterns that were once originally placed along the long walkway leading up to the front door of the frat house were smashed and overturned. Stringy pumpkin guts and seeds clung to the porous pavement of the walkway, some of the pumpkin innards in the grass. A collection of large oak trees in the front lawn were decorated with ominous purple lights. The flickering light cascaded across the grass, bouncing off the glass of littered alcohol bottles.

As you transitioned onto the property from the bustling street of roaming party-goers from different frat homes all around, the music and shouts from within the home ahead of you seemed almost loud enough to shatter its' windows. The base of your heels clicked against the pavement out of excitement as you trailed up the property.

A gust of wind hit your overly exposed flesh, and a chill of excitement tickled your vertebrae. While you were pulling the silk robe you wore over your body to cover yourself, short wolf-whistles from a group of drunk party-goers who'd barely managed to stand up straight caught your attention. The intoxicated faces that wore skewed face paint waved to you, catcalling you, wanting nothing else but your attention, but, you ignored them and continued onto the covered porch. Anywhere away from the blabbering drunk so-and-so's who were floundering in the lawn is a place where you wanted to be.

The front door that belonged to the home was left completely open, and you couldn't tell if the people passing through were coming or going. But you pushed your way through and sure enough, you were finally inside and one with the chaos that was the Halloween party. You already knew that this party was more hectic than the last one you attended.

Spirits were high, and the energy emitting from the room you now stood in practically zapped you.

One look alone at the hoard of people around you had you wishing that you would've at least asked Ymir to cancel her late-night movie date with Historia so they could follow along with you tonight instead. You weren't sure if you could handle a party like this all by yourself.

Managing to shuffle away from the front door, you stood aside and reached for your phone that you'd been holding in your small purse. Taking a quick look around at all the flashy details of costumes, your eyes dug down at your phone screen.

Today 22:46 Hey Jean, I'm here...

Though it wasn't out of spite or pettiness, a handful of hours is how long you left Jean's messages on seen. You decided earlier in the day to take it upon yourself and show up and surprise him with your arrival instead of messaging beforehand so that way he wouldn't expect a thing.

After your message was sent, all you had to do was find Jean. Or he had to find you. Seemed simple enough, but with one look at the crowd, you knew it wouldn't be such an easy task to tackle. Even if Jean was nearby, how would you be able to pick him out of the crowd?

There were many, and if not all, people wearing costumes. Even if by chance you were to know tons of people, they'd be hardly recognizable to you. So trying to catch a face would be worthless.

A singular buzz from your phone had you checking your lock-screen within an instant. Sure enough, it was a response from Jean.

Jean: Where are you?

Just as you were about to start at your reply, the chat bubble from the receiving end disrupted you. But as you watched and waited, the chat bubbles disappeared without any further sign of reappearing.

Then somehow you heard Jean's voice shouting your name over the crowd.

But where?

You couldn't help but look like a maniac as you scanned your surroundings. You were trying to recall which direction you heard his tenor voice last when suddenly two large hands skewed your vision. Instantaneously your hands went flying upward, dropping your phone mid-process as you felt at his wrists as he stood close behind you.

You yelped a response, "Jean!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Jean's hands lowered from your face, allowing you to see clearly once again. "Let me get that," you watched as his hand reached for your phone that was on the ground.

Jean fell into your line of sight as you turned on your heel to face him. Both of you went wide-eyed as both of you took each other in, examining each other's costume. Your phone that was now dangling at his fingertips was almost dropped for a second time out of Jean's surprise.

"Are you... a cowboy?" You managed to make the first remark.

Covering Jeans' head was a worn chocolate brown cowboy hat, along with a matching colored mid-thigh coat. His hair was tucked under the hat, only the ends of his hair billowing out. Though like always, the black studded earrings were still imprinted in both his earlobes. A red paisley bandana covered up the neck of his button-up shirt. Dark faded blue jeans covered his long legs and a large belt buckle hung at his hips. The cuffs of his jeans swamped worn down brown pointed boots. His cheeks seemed to be more defined while somehow his facial hair seemed to be darkened and unruly.

His ruggedness was hot.

Jean cleared his throat before attempting to speak with his best cowboy impressions, "you betcha', cowgirl." Jean paused for a beat, mainly to gather his words, "now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm assuming you're dressed as a playboy bunny?"

"Bingo. How do you like my costume? Historia and Ymir helped me come up with the idea."

Promptly, you corrected your bunny ears that'd been pushed out of place from his surprise attack. Jean silently raked your appearance in from head to toe, his tongue caught on his lip as if he were about to say something but he hesitated, almost like he was nervous. Even if he was nervous, he most certainly wouldn't let you know that.

Eventually, he gulped, and through his parted lips he spoke, "I- I like it, your costume puts mine to shame. Also, I think the colors red and black suit you well."

If it weren't for the off-put lighting of different color hues, you would've been able to notice the radiating peach glow on his cheeks.

"Thanks, your cowboy costume isn't so bad either," you teased, tipping the front of his hat down over his brow line. "That's payback for making me drop my phone."

Jean chuckled, lifting the hat from his head, allowing the locks of his hair to fall across his forehead aimlessly. His long fingers ran through his hair, pushing his amber strands back before setting the cowboy hat back on his head.

After the quick readjustment, Jean's eyes were on you, "by the way, thanks for showing up tonight."

"Oh, it's no big deal," you admitted when in reality you'd spent hours getting ready, regardless of how nonchalant you'd made your previous statement out to be.

In the back of your mind, you wanted to look good tonight since you knew Jean would be at the party. You didn't care about the technicalities or the thoughts and ideas people would make of you from your attire alone. But you wouldn't admit it.

You were uncertain for how long you had been staring at Jean for, that and you were also uncertain of close the two of you were standing next to each other until you were randomly pushed from behind by a passerby. Jean of course caught ahold of you as you went stumbling forward. Jean helped stabilize your footing by holding onto your arms.

There was a scowl on his face as he stared off into the crowd, searching for the person who carelessly bumped into you. The disgruntled look on his face was hardly noticeable if you weren't paying enough attention, but sure enough, there was a scowl on his face.

"Are you okay?" Jean's eyes were back on you, "they didn't even stop to apologize to you."

"It's alright, Jean, it's not like I got hurt or anything, and they're probably too drunk to function."

"You know you're probably right," even though it seemed like he didn't want to give up that easily, Jean carefully took ahold of your wrist, "will you follow me?"

You attempted to speak over the blaring background noise, "okay, where are we going?"

Jean turned his head back for only a second so he could respond as he began to walk, "you'll see."

The next room the two of you entered wasn't as packed as the entrance of the house, but still as lively. A table with solo cups at either side was folded out and there were two teams tossing ping pong balls back and forth, taking a drink from the orange solo cups when directed. A hoard of people surrounded the table, but you managed to get a vision of the action.

"Beer pong?" You talked over the commotion, taking a glance at Jean before back at the table.

"Have you ever played before?"

"Back in high school, I've played a handful of times but I completely sucked at the game. I haven't won, not even a single time."

"Let's see if your luck has changed any and see if we can break that losing streak of yours," Jean finally released your wrist to go talk to a man who'd been standing near the game table.

The unknown man was dressed in black pants and a white and black striped shirt, like one of those burglars you see in children's cartoons. Under a black beanie, he had blond hair and was built, his well-toned muscles were flexed as his arms wrapped around his chest while talking with Jean. Next to the blond was a much taller man, who was even taller than Jean by at least two to three inches, who wore a similar costume as the blond.

"Hey! Are you a friend of Jean?" An alto-toned voice called out from your right as you felt a knuckle tap on your shoulder.

A tall man with a freckle-kissed face and chocolate brown eyes beamed at you, his expression was laced with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. His hair was parted and styled like a man from the eighties, and he wore a red puffer jacket over a denim jacket. Instantly you thought he was dressed as Marty McFly from Back To The Future.

"I guess you could say that, yes," you said, unsure if a straight yes or no would be correct.

"Okay, cool! I'm Marco, Jean's best friend. I haven't seen you around before, where did you guys meet?"

"I met him through my mutuals at a party last Saturday-" you paused for a beat, remembering the first actual encounter you had with Jean. "Actually, the first time I ever met him is when I quite literally ran into him. It was horrible, I spilled my latte and everything."

You'd have Jean pay you back for that latte one day, even if you were the one that barged into him. And that was a promise.

Just then, those chocolate brown eyes of his flashed for a split second. His thick eyebrows rose and fell and the corners of his lips struggled to keep from lifting into a knowing smirk.

"Before I forget to ask, what is your name?"

Whenever you told Marco your name, his eyes darted over towards Jean's direction then back at you. There was a weird expression on his face that you couldn't put your finger on, it almost seemed like he knew something that you didn't.

Your eyebrow lifted, "what's the matter, Marco?"

"Marco!" Jean finally reappeared from the beer pong table, almost standing in between you and Marco.

Jean glanced at you and back to Marco.

"Wait, what were you two talking about?" Jean shifted towards you slightly, a shadow falling across his brow from the cowboy hat he was wearing.

His defensive side caused suspicion to arise inside of you. Had he been hiding something from you?

"We-"

You'd attempted to speak, but Marco beat you to it, "nothing, Jean, I was just introducing myself to your friend."

Jean stared at Marco for a few seconds, like he was carefully reading the man with chocolate eyes.

Suddenly, there was a loud cheer, almost like an explosion from the table. Then there was a harsh whistle that zipped through the other commotion which caught Jean's attention entirely.

"Jean! Come on, you're up against me and Bert," the same man that Jean was talking to previously informed.

"Come on," Jean motioned for you to follow him, "let's get you that win."

Across from you stood the same two men who Jean had been talking to previously. Apparently, the blond's name was Reiner and the other went by Bert, or Berty, however, the blond cooed. While Marco stood off to the side of both you and Jean, loaning you his friendly support and cheering both of you on.

As the game commenced, Jean stood close beside you the whole time, giving you a few tips and tricks here and there to help sink the ball. You noted how nice it felt when he held onto your wrist one time to imitate a fake swish. Or how nice it felt when you actually sunk a ball into a cup and Jean would congratulate you by pulling your body against him into a side hug.

You felt at the top of the world, soaring all high and mighty. There was a slight buzz kicking in already from the cups of beer you had to drink, and Jean even decided to help you out with most of them by downing the liquid. He'd pluck the cup up from the table, and before dipping his head back, he'd glance at you with a knowing look with his intense eyes over the brim of the cup.

Your fingers accidentally laced with his momentarily as you high-fived one another after Jean scored your team another point. Soon after your mini celebration was cut short, Jean rolled his eyes whenever Reiner's ball bounced into your team's orange cup. Reluctantly his slender fingers grasped the brittle material and downed the beer.

With the back of his wrist, he wiped the corners of his mouth, "we just need to score the last cup," Jean placed a hand on your shoulder, his excited eyes staring into yours.

"What if I mess up?" You kept your eyes only on Jean.

"You won't."

With that, you sucked a breath in through your nose and exhaled steadily. The music was continuously bumping in the background while you rinsed off your ball in the discard cup. Your chest was thumping, and there was a ringing sensation beginning to sound.

The game was currently tied up. One to one. Reiner and Bert stood adjacent to you and Jean. Both men waved their hands in front of the cup as you aimed for the center.

Once the ball was tossed and in mid-air after its' first bounce, their hands ripped away, and almost as if it were playing in slow motion, the ball landed in the cup. The contents sloshing around slightly on impact as your ball sank into the depths of the plastic. Reiner sighed and plucked the ball out and drank the beer from the remaining cup you happened to score.

An eruption of emotions spilled out of you and everyone else around you. To your surprise, you felt Jean ease his arms around you, swiftly lifting you and spinning you in a victory hug. Naturally, you melted into Jean's touch as he held you up from the ground.

"We did it, Jean! Thank you so much for believing in me."

"It's no problem, I knew that you could do it, but I do enjoy the praise."

If it weren't for Eren walking up and interrupting both of you, the moment of celebration with Jean would've lasted much longer.

You would've preferred that outcome.

"Jean, Marco," A slap on Jeans' shoulder came from Eren, "I've been looking for you two and everyone else, Porco wants us downstairs," Eren was practically already shit-faced.

When Eren's shiny emerald eyes caught ahold of yours, he stopped to smile and greet you. He couldn't believe that he'd overlooked you for that short moment.

"You- a playboy bunny? Damn, if I would've known you'd come dressed as that I would've come dressed as Hugh Hefner," Eren held a bottle pointed at you as he took your appearance in, "don't be a stranger, you should join us downstairs."

"Now, you don't have to if you don't want to."

"It's okay, Jean," you reassured the tall figure, "it sounds like it will be fun."

Your heels clapped against the hard flooring after stepping away from Jean who finally let you back onto the ground. Instead of walking with Jean, you stayed behind him as he walked with Marco, and Eren was already way ahead of the two men. You enjoyed watching Jean and Marco converse from behind, and also you noticed how lively they seemed to be when talking to each other.

Much to your Amusement, you immediately noticed out of the crowd of people in the basement that both Connie and Sasha were wearing matching crayon costumes. Connie was the color green and Sasha was yellow.

"Over here, you guys!" Connie practically fell over his own feet as he grabbed your small group's attention.

Though, another face, another painstakingly familiar face caught your attention.

'Why the hell is he here?'

Floch never showed up to parties, so why now of all times?

You stilled in your tracks, unsure of what to do. Do you approach the group and be awkward because of your ex-boyfriend? Or do you stop, turn around, and head back out instantly without another word spoken?

You noticed when Jean turned his head over his shoulder to look back at you, almost like he somehow noticed or felt a shift in the atmosphere around your group. His lips turned from a crooked smirk from talking to Marco into a slight frown as he gazed at you. Jean paused from marching alongside Marco to glide back and meet up with you.

Naturally, Marco turned on his heel to question what was up and why both of you stopped following, and all Jean did was encourage him to carry on and that the two of you would only take a second.

You appreciated Jean's concerns, but you didn't know what to say to him, what could you possibly say to him without making him uncomfortable?

"What's wrong?" Jean asked as he finally approached you.

"He," your eyes found comfort by staring at the ground you were standing on, "he's here."

"What do you mean?" Jean looked around momentarily before looking back at you, "who's here?"

There wasn't much time to waste, not if you wanted to make your conflicting emotions noticeable to the others who were waiting for all four of you to join them. You definitely didn't want Floch to notice how bothered you were by his presence.

What was he doing here anyway? He never was the one to attend parties, he even said so himself.

"My ex-boyfriend," you spoke dryly, almost unable to be heard if Jean weren't listening well enough.

Without another word spoken, you lifted your head, Jean took the cue to follow your eyes where Floch was seated. You watched as the redhead enjoyed a beverage from his orange cup, laughing at something with a man with short brown hair, whom you didn't recognize.

"Who? That guy is your ex?" Jean asked, paying close attention to you while gesturing towards Floch.

"Yeah, the redhead, I didn't think he'd be here tonight," you exhaled an uneasy breath of air, "he was never the one for parties. God, I don't want him to ruin my night, I've been having so much fun and-"

"So then don't let him ruin your night," Jean took ahold of your hand, interlacing your fingers with his, "I have an idea."

Your eyes flashed with excitement at the hand-to-hand contact with Jean, "what's your idea?"

Jean's stern eyes softened for a split second, almost like he were telling you to trust him. Without any debate on the matter, you swallowed your nerves and squeezed Jean's fingers with your own, embracing the comforting heat of his palm on yours. You could only notice how relaxed your hand was in his, the feeling was familiar and soothing, something you could get used to if given the chance.

"Hey guys," Jean spoke to the large friend group, taking a seat beside Marco on the couch.

The group of people was much larger this time around. You recognized some faces from previous encounters at the last party, while some faces you hadn't seen before, and some were completely unrecognizable due to their costumes. More people were standing idly by away from your group talking to one another, some were dancing, and there were others preoccupied at the wet bar. You noticed that there was a small group huddled around a pool table, but decided to_ ignore_ the pool table.

Without anywhere else to sit due to limited space around, you hesitated briefly until Jean pulled you onto his lap. With a squeal, you adjusted yourself, crossing your legs quaintly as you delicately sat on his lap. This whole time from holding hands with Jean till now you've avoided looking towards the direction Floch was sitting in, but you noticed that his lips had gone still, and movement of his had ceased.

Maybe he was jealous by seeing you and Jean together, hand in hand. But that was a good thing, right?

Jean's large palm draped on your hip delicately, no, hesitantly, almost like he was unsure to touch you. His palm hovered across the material of your silk robe, feeling the intricate indentations of the more risqué undergarments underneath. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable by the way he was holding onto you, all he could do was hope you wouldn't mind. But, considering your past encounter with Jean, he thought something so simple as having his hand placed on your hip didn't match up to the extremity of the last personal encounter you two shared.

Connie and Sasha struck up a conversation with you as soon as you were comfortably seated. Jean and Marco casually joined in on the conversation and all five of you sat talking amongst yourselves out of the group of well over a dozen.

There were the occasional cut-ins from Eren or the blond whose name was Armin that you'd seen from yesterday, but you didn't mind. There was also a man who was named Niccolo that appeared from upstairs who joined in, he brought two beers with him and wiggled his way to sit in between Sasha and Connie, mostly leaning into Sasha though as he gave her one of the beverages he'd been holding. The more the merrier you thought.

As long as it wasn't Floch joining in, you didn't mind.

The conversation was cut to a halt when a man with dirty blond hair that was slicked back cleared his throat to speak. The blond wore a black leather jacket, with a white t-shirt underneath and faded blue jeans covering his legs. Sitting next to him was another male who wore a similar matching costume, sans jacket and his hair was only a little messier than the blonds, with his hair falling out of place but still kept back. They looked to be dressed like a character out of the book _The Outsiders, _like greasers.

"How about we all play a little game?"

"What kind of game, Pock?" A woman with thick black hair asked, her arm lazily dragged across the man's shoulder as she tipped her head out of curiosity.

"Pieck, I told you to stop calling me that," the blond seemed to be easily frustrated by the single comment.

Which only resulted in a soft laugh from Pieck, "alrighty then, Porco."

The irritate state seemed to blow over quickly, and Porco now was back on track with his original train of thought, "anyways, I was thinking of..." Porco glanced around the vast group for a moment, "a little game of truth or dare?"

"Truth or dare? Don't you think that's a little middle schoolish, baby brother?" The man sitting beside him with brown hair asked playfully, visibly striking a nerve in Porco.

"Shut up," Porco hissed at his brother, "it's my party, so I get the say in what we do, so if _you _don't like it, Marcel, then you can leave. It's as easy as that," Porco pulled a bottle of bud light to his lips before tipping his head back to take a drink. "And that goes for everyone else too, if you don't like it, then leave."

Though, with the invitation to leave if warranted, no one got up from their seat. And you could tell that Jean hadn't even considered the option of leaving since he made no effort to move, and neither did you. But, naturally, you turned your head over your shoulder just to ask him and make sure. What you didn't anticipate was the proximity that both of your faces would be to each other once you turned to look back at him.

You stilled on Jean's lap, the breath you sucked in practically caught in your throat at his closeness, "Jean," you almost asked in a hushed tone, "do you want to play?"

"Of course," his smile disappeared briefly, but not because he was unhappy, "I mean unless you don't then we can go somewhere-"

"No," you smiled, aimlessly turning back to face the crowd as you'd once been, "I'd like to play, all I need is a drink to start the pace," you admitted, eyes falling onto Floch after turning back forward.

————————

"You have to do the dare, Bert," the man from the opposing team you played against earlier, who you now knew as Reiner, spoke out, encouraging his tall friend and the girl he was with.

Currently, Bertholdt was to take a body shot off of the girl's stomach. The poor boy was flustered out of his mind, his tan cheeks were a deep shade of pink as he leaned towards the girl. Bert dipped down to her naval, sucking out the alcohol from her belly button. Whistles and cheers sounded out from the crowd when Bert pulled his face back, downing the shot of booze.

"Atta champ," Reiner slapped Bertholdt on his back, causing Bert to cough up a sputter on the alcohol that lingered in his throat.

Bertholdt shrugged his shoulder over his mouth, eliminating any residual of alcohol on his lips.

Currently, you were a few turns in of a modified version of truth or dare. But instead of truths, there were only dares, or you had to take a drink for bailing. The game and its' rules reminded you of the spin-the-bottle game you played last Saturday.

"Drink or dare," you scanned across the crowd, thinking of a victim to pick, "Sasha."

"Dare, obviously," she elbowed Connie in the rib playfully, waiting to hear the poison you picked for her.

A mischievous grin developed on your eager lips, you had just the dare in mind for Sasha.

"I dare you to go lock yourself in a room with Niccolo for ten minutes," you pointed to a room just a few feet away from your group.

Niccolo sputtered out of embarrassment, he was surprised that you'd dare Sasha to do something like that. But Sasha, she wasn't the one to complain over a dare. So, she hopped up on her feet and waited for Niccolo to follow.

Though you only crafted this dare mostly as a joke, you knew well that this dare would also help the two jump-start their relationship in the right direction. You came to that conclusion solely by observing how the two had been interacting with each other so far.

Niccolo seemed to be interested in Sasha but, of course, was hesitant, while Sasha on the other hand was oblivious to Niccolo's advances.

Before Sasha entered the nearby room, she shot you a glance, a glance that could read 'you'll pay for this later.'

After receiving quick congratulatory praise from Eren and Connie due to daring Sasha and Niccolo to do such a thing, both men signaled to Jean that it was now his turn to dare someone.

"Who's it going to be, Jean?" pulling your chin back over your shoulder, you stopped to look at the man you were sitting on.

His fingers that were slack against you suddenly gripped your body slightly. Jean's index finger vaguely tapped against you where he held onto, before combing all fingertips against your flesh in a soothing manner.

Without a second glance around the room, Jean spoke with his head slightly tilted, his eyes on and only on you, "I dare you to kiss me."

#attack on titan #Jean #jean smut #Jean Kirschstein #aot smut #jean kirschtein smut

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randombtsprincessa · 4 years

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Best of Me

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Seokjin x Reader (She/Her) (2nd POV)

Words: 6.2k

Genre: Angst/Smut, Fluff if you’re looking for it!

Rating: Mature (18+)

Summary: Jin has been in love with you since your childhood. As time passes and you become two different individuals, will his love be left behind in the past or will he have a chance?

Warning: Major Purple Prose (Sorry, couldn’t help it!), Talk of arranged marriages, age gap (5 years), both are idiots tbh, swimming pool make out, explicit sex scene, fingering, unprotected sex (stay safe!) Irresponsible discharges but they’re too horny to care!

A/N: This fic was voted by the lovely readers of mine for my Blogversary! I hope all the people who voted are happy with this fic! I will hold another poll for the November Nanowrimo if time and circumstances allow and all the people who voted for other fics will have their chance again! Don’t worry though, all the fic ideas are going to be posted anyhoo!

The very first time that Jin had laid eyes on you, was probably when you were seven. He was a lanky twelve year old, content with lazing about his house, passing the summers in bliss just like it was expected from children of his age.

That had been right up until his elder sister, Moonbyul, marched into the house with you in tow.

Jin had been on the couch, feet up onto the carved winged arms. If his mother had known, he would’ve been grounded till the next school year; but he was too engrossed into the small handheld video game to be too concerned about consequences.

The loud chatter of a young child had interrupted his carefully structured gaming limbo – his eyes shifted, attention straying, and then his character was evaporating into a puff of pixilated smoke.

Jin let out one of the new expletives he’d recently learned, no fears for now, because it was just his sister – he knew she knew worse words.

“Jin, you’re home?” Moonbyul asked, first thing, seeing her brother slide down the sofa.

“Yeah, it’s too hot outside.” He glanced curiously at the girl who stood right next to his sister, before a wave of recognition flooded him.

It was the girl his sister babysat, daughter of one of their father’s friend – Y/N.

“Why’d you bring her here?” He asked.

“Y/N’s parents just left, she didn’t want to stay in.” Moonbyul huffed playfully at the girl and she giggled, showing small teeth.

“Right,” he returned his eyes to the kid. She was cute.

“I’ll be out at the pool with Y/N.” His sister informed before grabbing the hand Y/N stretched out to her caretaker. They passed by and the girl gave a final wave back to Jin who grinned, exaggeratedly waving his own hand to the girl, earning another giggle.

It was usual after that, for Jin to find Y/N and his sister at the pool. Y/N must’ve taken a liking to it, because even when Moonbyul wasn’t with her, he would spot her there, sometimes just sitting at the edge, sometimes doing laps.

You and Jin grew up together; the five year difference between you and him should’ve caused for a strange form of wariness between the relationships between you two. However, there was nothing of that sort for you – even when Jin could feel himself settling into being an adolescent.

You still found it comfortable and natural to swim in their pool, long after you crossed the age of babysitting, long after Moonbyul left for college.

You had grown into a little spitfire, all rebellious, boisterous laughter following your footsteps wherever you went. Jin and you went to the same school, him being close to graduating, while you were still spreading your roots. It wasn’t very unusual for him to hear your voice around the cafeteria, or the hallway and whenever he looked around, you shone like the sun, surrounded by people who absorbed your heat and reflected it.

It made him smile, reminded of the small girl whose giggles had echoed around his house.

In these times, he found it easier to bring himself to join you; donning on swimming trunks and a t-shirt.

The first time, he had to ask shyly if you would like some company and you had grinned, telling him it was his pool before he’d jumped in.

Swimming had become a bonding experience, the both of you delving deep into conversation in the moments where you would catch a breath.

It was at this time when he found out your favorite color, food, season, subjects. Stars weren’t just gaseous balls when you talked about them, space wasn’t just a void in your mind. Politics, medicine, law; these were just base human calculations for power. What could capitalism and corruption do to you when you were just a floating mass in the galaxy?

Jin had blinked at these words, finding it hard to adjust to your world view, when his own had been molded for the working world.

You were a gust of fresh river air, when all he had smelled was sea salt…and so he fell, sitting at the tiled edge of his own swimming pool, for a girl unattainable.

But just like everything that existed under the sun, this too had to end sometime.

Years passed before Jin saw you again, in a formal setting this time.

Jin had gone on to the same college Moonbyul had, completing his Masters before he came back home. He had grown, and well, if he had to be very honest. He had traded in his contacts, glasses perched on his nose; a crisp suit clad around his frame with a hand holding a glass of fine scotch.

His father had been ecstatic to have both his children home. His sister had already started working in the company and he was soon to join.

Congratulations were flowing as freely as the alcohol.

His father stood next to him, one hand clasping and clapping his shoulder occasionally as he boasted about his son’s degrees to his business associates when his eyes brightened.

“Y/F/N, come on in! Glad you could join us,” He left the group, striding to your father, embracing him and dropping air kisses on your mother when Jin saw you.

You stood farther back from the gaggle of parents, hands held to your front.

In a split second, Jin’s mind had conjured up a series of images. You, a child, giggling at him; you, his friend, talking about how soothing the scent of wet earth was and then every picture on social media – you growing up, becoming a little less loud, but not losing your outspoken nature. Your hair was longer now, collected with a pin to one side but the graceful nature of your attire meant nothing.

Jin knew that rebellion still pumped in your blood, he’d seen the posts about various debates, the conferences. You were still in college, but you had achieved more than he could hope for.

A small tendril of pride blossomed in his chest, looking at you now. He hoped you’d come talk to him, surprising himself.

Jin had accepted early on that he had fallen in love with you in his young days. He had also accepted that maybe nothing would ever come of it, that you would find him too old. So, he had moved on, dated; however, each picture that he liked on your social media just pushed a pin into his heart.

Hope, as it was, could not be curbed – he’d found. He knew it was dangerous, being close to you again, that he would fall again, but if his feelings were this easy to rekindle, then, had they ever vanished truly in the first place?

“Seokjin,”

He started, his eyes focusing on the speaker. Somewhere between his reminiscing, you’d spotted him, and as he had hoped had come over to say hello.

“Y/N,” He smiled naturally, a heartbeat skipped when you chose to wrap your arms around him. His own arms remained polite, one hand pressing you to him while the one holding his drink stayed carefully away from your dress.

“Look at you, all suited up and in glasses; I didn’t even know you wore glasses.” You said, pulling away to peer at his face.

“Yeah, I don’t…I don’t really post too many photos.” Jin smiled.

Your eyes were glinting from the soft affection that came with old friends but he couldn’t find anything else in them that pointed out that you felt anything more at his appearance.

“I saw your pictures though. Congratulations, college has been a good experience for you it seems.”

“More like I’m a good addition for the college,” you lowered your voice mischievously.

There it was; that stern surety in your own worth. Jin smiled again. “So, can we say this is official, your homecoming?” You asked.

“I’m going to join the company, so yeah.”

“Great, I’ll come visit you. I haven’t seen Moonbyul in so long as well.”

“Of course,” Jin was about to take a swig when a call of your name distracted both of you.

“Well, I have to go, enjoy your party, Jin.” You waved to him and with one final wave walked away, leaving Jin to sip from his glass with his eyes fixed on you.

It wasn’t long after that his father announced a date most auspicious for Jin to join. He was soon to retire anyway; his company would go to his children. He needed Jin to learn the ropes as soon as possible.

Jin worked diligently. He practically took the role of his father’s secretary; sitting with him in meetings, taking his calls and handling the jobs as best as he could.

Moonbyul had already moved on to a higher office, having worked about three years more than her brother. She would come by sometimes, give advice based on her own experiences.

Not long after, Jin was capable in his own rights.

He worked in his own office, overlooking the things his father pushed on to him dutifully.

Things were busy in a successful business; there was no time for Jin to linger over thoughts of you. He wanted to, more than anything, think about what it would mean with both of you now being in the same city.

Chances were he’d run into you, but then what?

What would he say? What would he even do?

It was safer for Jin to bury himself in his work.

So imagine his surprise, when his family was the one to bring you up – at the breakfast table, no less.

“The Y/L/Ns are talking about marrying Y/N off.” His father spoke.

Jin’s head was the first to swivel, followed by his mother’s and then his sister’s, who was still a little clumsy with the butter knife.

“What?” Jin asked, shocked.

“Well, the girl is old enough now. They are going to start looking for suitable grooms.” He avoided looking at Moonbyul, who very pointedly flexed her bare left hand.

His sister was proudly single, and a brilliant businesswoman. Not even their father was going to interfere with that aspect of her life.

“She can make her own choices.” She put in.

“I’m not saying she can’t.” Their father said. “I’m just saying they’re looking and,” he exchanged a look with his wife. “I took the liberty of putting your name up for consideration.”

Moonbyul looked surprised, blinking. “Father, I used to babysit her. That’s ludicrous.”

“Not you,” her father palmed his face. “Seokjin,”

Now Jin was the one to blink – but not in surprise. “Did they take it well?”

“Why wouldn’t they? You are a successful, well to do man; upright, a gentleman. You’ve been friends with Y/N, too.”

“He meant Y/N.” Moonbyul interrupted in her brother’s stead.

“Oh,” Mr. Kim looked abashed. “No, they’re still waiting for the right time to tell her.”

Jin looked down at his plate.

It was an odd sensation that brewed in his stomach. He was elated, yes, the thought of marrying Y/N was his dream come true…but she didn’t even know. She didn’t know anything. Her ignorance sent trepidation rampaging through him, crushing the small seeds of hope and happiness yet again.

He could eat no more.

Concentration upon his work, which was piling up with every phone call that passed his intercom was the last thing on his mind.

Instead, he spent most of the working morning with his chair turned around, staring blearily out the glass panes. He knew, coming back home, running into you was bound to send his heart down a memory lane that winded and twisted with lanes of confusion and anxiety.

“Jin,”

He swiveled the chair around with a start, seeing his sister stand at his door, a sardonic smile on her face.

“I was working! I was just taking a small breather.”

“Hey, chill, I’m not on your ass about work.” She breezed in, perching on the edge of his desk. “Nobody says you have to break your back plus you’re twenty seven. Stop acting like you’re still twelve and breaking curfew.”

It was Jin’s turn to give her a wry look. “If you’re not here about work, what are you ‘getting on my ass’ about?”

“Breakfast,”

He gave her a blank look.

“To be precise; I’m here to talk about Y/N.”

Her brother sat up straighter. “You didn’t tell her did you? Is she here? What did you do?” he stopped when he saw Moonbyul twinkle at him.

“You’ve got it so bad for her.” She said, laughing at the high color on Jin’s cheeks.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Jin slumped down in his chair, eyes fixed stubbornly at the photo swirl screen saver of his desktop.

Moonbyul rolled her eyes, sliding off her perch to walk and stand at his arm. “You’ve been obvious for years Jin. Why do you think Dad even said anything about you to Y/N’s parents? We all know…at least mom and dad and I do.”

All Jin could do was widen his eyes, flames now reaching his temples as he attempted to sink further down. They all knew…they all knew…? Had he been that tactless? Oh my god, did you know? Had you ever gleaned how he watched you, like you were made of soft marble, sparkling in the sun? That when you spoke, he listened…as if he just couldn’t help it…

“I…I do like her, a lot.” He admitted, although quietly quelling the word ‘love’. He wasn’t quite there, even if it was his sister he was talking to.

“So, why don’t you tell her? You’re friends. Try and talk to her.”

“What if she says ‘LOL Jin, but you’re like my brother’?” He sat up straighter. “I’m five years older to her. That’s like so old. She’s just going to say no and maybe never want to talk to me ever again after.”

“You can’t know that without even talking to her. Plus, you’re both adults now. Stop putting ideas into your own head, you’re going to drive yourself mad. Also, Y/N’s not like that. She’s not shallow.”

“I didn’t mean,”

“I know you didn’t. However, if you want even a shadow of a chance with her, you have to get out of your shell and start talking to her.”

The rest of the morning passed heavily on Jin’s shoulder. By the time lunch break arrived, he was more than ready to get out of his spacious office that somehow seemed too small for him now. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he hurried down by the elevator, heading over for the small café that he used to frequent in his school days.

It had been a very popular hotspot for the students in his schools and even now, he could hear the laughs and jokes of his friends ringing in his ears, bringing a fond smile to his plump lips.

Walking in, he indulged in the chime of the overhead bell, the smell of roasting coffee beans and the sugar wafting over the dessert counter as he stood in line to order his usual bagel and cream and some mocha.

“Jin,” He turned with the first bite of his bagel, cream smearing his top lip and his eyes nearly boggled at the sight of you sitting in one of the booths, laughing up at him.

“Y/N,” he choked on his mouthful, coughing as he approached her. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, getting lunch; I missed this little place. I saw you and thought…maybe we could get lunch together. Of course, if you don’t mind or aren’t too busy?”

“No, no, I’m not busy and of course I don’t mind.” Of course, he wouldn’t mind sitting down here with you, getting lunch, possibly fantasizing about how he’d get lunch with you if you were dating instead of just catching up.

He looked down to see a sandwich on your plate, no bites taken out of it and you pushed the plate till it sat in the middle, letting him place the bagel on your plate as well.

“Well then, tell me everything that’s happened to you since graduation.” You smiled and Jin started talking, watching all your expressions; the giddy smiles, the concerned frowns and the soft chuckles that you hid under your breath.

He didn’t know when the topic sided towards you but when you started talking about how you’d met so many interesting people on a few of your debate teams and their clashing ideologies, Jin erupted like an untimely science project.

“Did you know your parents want you to get married?”

You stuttered to a stop, the cup of tea pausing midway as you stared at him in shock. “What…what did you say? How did you know?”

Jin looked down quickly, scratching and pulling at his ear. “My parents…they told me…they…um, they heard your parents discussing it.” He lied through his teeth.

“Oh,” You looked down, giving Jin enough time to study you. “I don’t think I’d like to get married right now. There’s so much to do; so much to be, so much to see. I want to go places, to talk to people, to be every version of me there is. I can’t do that if I get married.” You said.

“Right,” Jin said weakly.

He couldn’t tell you, he decided. He couldn’t tell you about how you were most likely betrothed to him, and he absolutely couldn’t tell you how he felt about you.

You would never look at him the same.

However, it wasn’t enough to curb the unfurling ball of guilt that throbbed in his now uneasy stomach. He stared down at the half eaten bagel. He had to talk to his father.

“Dad?” Jin poked his head in to where his father sat in his study, poring over some reports he’d dragged in that day. The older Mr. Kim looked up, peering at his son over his glasses.

“Jin, come on in, what’s the matter?”

He walked in slowly, hands wringing behind his back. Nervous tension radiated off of him and he was pulling at his ears till he thought it’d come right off.

“I want to talk to you about something serious. About Y/N,” He said finally.

His father removed his glasses, tossing them on the discarded papers as he regarded his son. “You don’t want to marry her. Its fine, son; you don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do. We can talk to her parents tomorrow.”

“No!” Jin took a quick step forward. He didn’t want that. What if her parents thought he had bad mouthed her? They would tell her and she would find out that he had kept her betrothal a secret – or worse, think he thought her inferior.

“I just…I want it to be postponed. She’s still in college and I talked to her today. She wants things out of life, dad and being married in our world is just going to put her in a wife box. She doesn’t want that. Hell, I don’t want that for her.” He sighed. “I just want her to get what she wants before she thinks of settling down. We can wait till then, can’t we?”

His father narrowed his eyes in thought, about to reply when a softer voice interrupted them. Jin’s eyes widened, head whirling to see you standing at the open door, mouth agape.

“You knew? You knew and you didn’t tell me? All that talk in the café and you just -,”

“Y/N,”

You turned on your heel, storming away from the study and Jin sprang out of where he’d sunk down in one of his father’s armchairs.

“Wait, Y/N, wait, for god’s sake!” Jin managed to grip her arm at the front door, slamming it shut behind him for privacy. You immediately snatched the appendage away but turned mercifully, allowing him to talk.

“I’m sorry, ok. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He began.

“Do you know how stupid I feel? I asked my parents about what you said today and they said that they had already picked you to be my husband,” Jin flinched at the venom in your voice, “and all I thought about was that I should tell you so you wouldn’t be shocked but guess what, you already know. You knew and you let me think,” You flung out your hands, stepping back from him.

“Why? Why wouldn’t you just say something? You heard me talking about all my dreams, all the things I want from my life. I thought you were my friend. What possible motive could you have had for not telling me? And now, you don’t even want to marry me.”

“Of course I want to marry you.” Jin broke in, roughly. “I’ve been in love with you ever since we were kids, Y/N. I want to marry you yes, but I also want you to have everything you want.”

Y/N’s harsh words had faded away, leaving behind only a squeak of surprise in its stead.

“You…you what?” You stammered.

“You heard me Y/N. it’s been forever and I still feel for you the same as I did when I was a high school boy. All I want is what’s best for you. Even if,” Jin gulped, shamefaced, “even if you decide that it’s not me.”

He watched you falter, something softening behind those deep eyes he loved to watch spark with mischief. “I…” The word hung between them, suspended in nothing but years of repressed words.

Then without uttering another word, you turned and walked away from him.

It had been a week of no contact.

Y/N’s parents had called late that night, wondering if Y/N had shown up at their face and his father had skillfully relayed the events, asking for any news to be forwarded to them as well; Jin was anxious.

And it was true…

Jin hadn’t stopped replaying the last encounter with Y/N in his head, shuddering away from the poisonous look in her eyes and voice before he’d shocked the rest of her anger away.

He’d been right; she didn’t want anything to do with him. Moonbyul had been wrong.

“Seokjin,” His father knocked on his door.

“Yeah,” he sat up straighter.

“Y/N called home,” His father stood in his doorway, peeking about at the thrown about clothes and other belongings that Jin couldn’t bring himself to put back properly.

“Ok, what did she say?” Jin sighed in relief to himself.

“She went back to her college dorm, with some friends. She said she’ll be back…later, that she needed some time to think about things.”

Jin pulled in his shoulders at that, shriveling up in himself. It didn’t matter. You were safe. That was more important. So why couldn’t he just be happy?

“Son, relax; this isn’t as bad as you think. She’s safe; she hasn’t outright told her family about the fight. She just needs space.”

“Yeah, I know, but I…I don’t think she’ll come back here, to me.”

“Nonsense,”

“Dad,” His father turned to look at him. “I love her. I told her and she still left.”

His father’s face changed, turning sympathetic before giving him a bracing smile. “Like I said, she needs space; don’t lose hope, son. She’ll come back soon enough, you’ll see.”

Jin waited till his father had shut the door and walked some distance away before scoffing.

Hope…

He was really starting to hate that word.

His body felt cold now, almost freezing. The water in the pool had been freshly poured in and though night swims weren’t something Jin indulged in usually, he was making an exception.

He’d shucked off his shirt and pants, taking a quick running dive into the water to build up his guts. The ice cold water had hit him like a sucker punch and he’d gasped, floating up to the surface, holding himself in the water to build up resistance.

He turned around onto his back, letting his long frame buoy up by the water. He snorted once when he thought about how he’d been teased that water would support him more because he had a huge built.

“Having fun?”

For the second time in not too long, he startled. His body upended, face meeting the water and then he was grappling for foothold, standing up to glare at the intruder. He immediately backtracked when he saw that it wasn’t his sister, but the reason why he was dunking himself in freezing waters so late at night.

You sat, legs crossed in the gazebo near the pool, face in your palm, watching him impassively.

“Y/N!” Jin nearly shouted before realizing the time, looking about in case someone was up in the house. “You’re back, how did you get in here?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve been coming here since I was a toddler, Jin. I know the ways to this pool better than you do.”

“Oh,” Jin remained awkward, kicking idly in the water when you stood walking around out of the roofed gazebo to stand at the pool edge.

“Aren’t you going to ask?”

“Ask what?”

“About where I went, why I went away…I don’t know, questions that I think my parents will ask when I go home.”

That had Jin’s head snapping back up to you. “You mean you didn’t go home?”

“Nope,” You shook your head. “Just arrived, came straight here,”

“I’m…flattered.” Jin managed weakly, thrilling when the tips of your lips twitched up in an amused smile.

“Can I join?”

Jin glanced around at the large pool. “Sure, why not?”

He backed up a little to create more space for you but what he wasn’t prepared for was you grabbing the hem of your sun dress, lifting it up completely off your head, revealing a simple black sports bra and boy shorts combo.

Jin averted his eyes, feeling heat rise up in his neck, along with something that made him grateful for the cold water. You draped the dress over the back of a deck chair, jumping in right next to him.

Jin exhaled, at least the water and the mild night lights of the pool hid most of your bare skin from his view.

“Race you?”

“You’re on.”

Jin and you drew back to one end of the pool before taking laps to the other end, to and fro.

Finally when you both urged at one end, Y/N’s palm slapping the top of the tiles in triumph, Jin pushed his hair back with both hands, panting. He wasn’t that far from Y/N, but the way she gave him a sheepish grin was enough for him to agree to his defeat.

“Guess it wasn’t a fair competition; you’re getting old.” You dunked your head into the pool before emerging again, launching up to sit at the edge. Jin smiled wryly, drifting closer to float near you, unspeaking for a while as you both caught your breaths.

“Do you know why I don’t want to get married?” You asked suddenly.

Jin glanced back at you, kicking in the water, not meeting his eyes. There was a glum set to your mouth. He decided not to reply, letting you answer yourself.

“It’s because as sweet as the institution sounds in itself, it’s also…binding, constricting. I’ve seen your mom and mine and they are happy, they love our dads but well…they don’t have anything to say for themselves. You know who does; Moonbyul, she’s happy single and she’s one of the most leading names in business. I don’t want to be trapped like that, at least not right now. It was never about you. It was about what I wanted for myself.”

Jin lowered his head. “Y/N, we’re not getting married. You don’t have to worry.”

He caught Y/N turn her head towards him quickly before looking away. “I…wow, thank you.”

“And even if we were,” Jin turned around to look earnestly up at you. “It would change nothing. I would never hold you back from what you want, ever. You know that. I would want you to go on out, talk some more, change the world, and I would gladly be in the audience watching you do that.”

Your lips twitched now, the shy smile that was ever so rare for you spreading across your face. You slowed your feet until the water stopped splashing up around Jin’s waist. There was still a gloomy air to you but now there was a resolute gleam in your eye, one he was very familiar with.

You looked at him. “You weren’t the only one, you know?”

“Hmm,” Jin frowned.

“With feelings,” You said bluntly. “You weren’t the only one.”

It took a few moments for your words to sink into Jin, sending his eyebrows flying up and jaw to fall slack. “You…” He took a deep breath, shivering just a little in the cold. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He managed weakly.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Of course I didn’t say anything.” Jin was getting frustrated. He was cold and now he was learning that the girl he’d been pining after for years felt something too but was still returning fire at him as if they were still in their teens, arguing about everything and anything under the sun.

“I was older than you. You were so popular at school with all these people hanging about you all the time. The only time we had together was when you would come in here or outside. After I graduated, there was nothing I could do or say. I didn’t want to put anything on you that you could do without.”

“So, age is basically the only thing you were worried about.”

Jin raised his head in outrage but you chuckled. “Because I thought the same; I was so young and you were so much more matured. There was no way you’d look at me like anything but the child your sister used to babysit.”

“But I never let it stop me,” You continued. “I mean, I knew you wanted me to succeed, I know that, so I took every chance I could get. I put myself out there, I posted pictures so you could see and be proud of me. Every like you left on all the photos was basically what was encouraging me.”

“So,” Jin felt as if he was boiling the water around him. The urge to reach up and pull you down to him was maddening, especially when you were saying everything that he had been dying to hear.

“I know you’re the best for me. You’re the reason I want to be the best of me. So, what I’m saying is that; yeah, I will marry you, Kim Seokjin. Just…not yet; give me at least till graduation.”

He did reach up then, curling cold hands around your face to pull you down till his face. It was easier, he was taller than you and the water - ironically – buoyed him up.

Your words disappeared in his mouth, a gust of hot breath sending goose bumps rising at the back of his neck. Jin dropped back down to his feet, with you leaning over him, your arms slowly sliding along his shoulder blades before winding around his neck.

You giggled against his lips when he pulled back. “Took you long enough,”

“Took you longer,” Jin argued.

“No, if you consider your age,”

“Shut up, Y/N,” Jin tugged you closer again, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Mm, you’re so bossy.”

“Now you know what I’ve been through all those years.”

“You’re right. Let’s just shut up.”

Jin gladly cut the banter short, your lips colliding against his harder this time. He opened his mouth, breathing in the scent of you, tasting you when you slid him your tongue.

You stayed there by the edge of the pool, your legs wrapped around his waist, holding him close as you released all the pent up frustration, accumulated for years.

When Jin pulled away from you, your eyes fluttered open, heavy lidded and chest heaving from the exertion. Your forehead dropped on his, clear about what you wanted. Jin twisted his mouth.

“Y/N,”

“What?”

“I don’t have a condom on me right now.” Jin admitted. He’d come for a swim. There had been no reason for him to be packing.

You hummed, brushing light kisses over his temple, down to his jaw. “Can you pull out?”

Cock twitching, Jin groaned, reaching down with one hand to rub along the pulsing length. You caught the action, grinning at him so willingly that he had to laugh at well.

“Ok,”

You untangled from him, springing up so he could clamber up behind you, following you when you flopped down on the futon in the gazebo.

“Wait, here?” Jin asked, standing over you.

“Where else; you want to wait till we get inside?” You reached up for his hand, pulling him in till he was hovering over you, one hand bracing his weight over your head and the other landing square on the crotch of your underwear.

The fabric was cool but he could feel the slick friction of your pussy, his fingers running over the cloth, rubbing against the nub till you were arching your back, hands gripping onto his wrist. Hair fell into Jin’s eyes, drying into chlorinated clumps and he had to shake his head to see you clearly, meeting your eye with a lascivious smile.

You parted your legs further, reaching back for the tie on your sports bra, pulling at the knots till the constricting material fell away, baring your chest to him, nipples peaking and jolting with each broken breath you drew.

Jin descended, swollen lips catching onto one peak and giving it a hard suck, pushing the crotch aside to sink in once long, crooked finger in your heat. Your moan had him grunting, pushing in further till the digit nestled in you up till the knuckle.

“Fuck,” You both gasped out at the same time, the feeling of your walls trapping the fingers, quivering at the intrusion, sending Jin’s cock nearly bursting the seams of his trunks. You tilted your head further to him, meeting his lips in a messy kiss as Jin gently began to thrust his finger, in and out, twisting as your slick coated your nether lips enough for him to squeeze in two.

He scissors his fingers, thumb circling your clit as you keened, soft mewls falling from your lips.

Your arms wrapped over his shoulders, your lips at his ear, hot breath wafting against his skin, “Want you inside of me, now.” You ordered and Jin complied all too happily.

Removing his fingers, he gripped at the hem of his short, tugging them off. The material clung to his skin, sticky from the pool water and now sweaty but he finally managed to kick it off, slipping the boy shorts down your legs till it hung from your ankle.

Running his slicked fist over his length he led himself to your entrance, eyes blown out as he slowly pushed into your hot, tight core. His head fell back, jaw falling to let out a loud groan that had you pushing your lips against his to muffle.

Your own whines and gasps were lost against his shoulder as he bent over you, nesting your head in the crook of his arm. His free hand grabbed hold of your leg, hitching it till it rested at the curve of his waist.

The first hard thrust had you both releasing expletives.

“You’re so big.” You almost accused as Jin parted from you to stare at the sight of his cock disappearing into your folds…again…and again…and again.

“You’re just too tight.” He gritted his teeth, the sight more erotic than he had prepared for and he gave you a helpless look. “I’m not going to last long.”

You shook your head, hands reaching up over your head for something hold. “Don’t worry; me neither.”

Jin twined your hands together, fingers grasping at each other as he quickened his pace, the angle at which he hit, allowing your clit to brush his pelvis in time with his thrusts.

Your orgasm hit you moments before his, making you curl up around him like a vice as he pulled out hurriedly, roughly jerking his hand to his cock but you sat up as well, wrapping your own softer hands around his shaft, twisting it at the base and tightening at the head.

Jin came in a gush, his release splashing over your hands, and some even hitting your exposed chest.

“Oh fuck,” Jin cursed, voice higher in embarrassment as he sought his shirt first, scrubbing out cum as best as he could from your skin.

“Oh god, relax.” You laughed, taking the shirt so you could wipe at your hands. Jin reached for his pants, sliding them on before fetching your dress, helping you slip it on. He surreptitiously snuck your shorts into his own pocket, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

“You’re staying the night, right?” He asked.

You shot him a teasing smile, arms winding around his neck so you could pull yourself onto your tiptoes. “Sure why not; I don’t suppose I can get in trouble for staying over at my fiancé’s house. Plus, I love morning sex.”

The last part was whispered in his ear, making him groan as he grabbed his discarded shirt, your hand patting his behind to get him to walk towards the house.

#smutcentralnet #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #jin smut #bts smut #seokjin smut #jin fanfic #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #jin x reader #bts x reader #bts scenarios #jin scenarios

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dabis-devil · 4 years

Note

Could you pretty please do Shinso, Dabi, Overhaul, Kirishima, Shiggy, Bakugo and Tamaki with an S/O with is a ballet dancer and looks fragile but can actually kick ass? Sorry for the long ask but I just really adore you’re stuff!!!!!

Pretty Poison

Aw, thank you anon! Okay, I'd just like to apologize for holding off on my asks. I've seen busy and not feeling well lately, but I'm getting to my requests now! Love you all 🖤

Shinsou Hitoshi

Shinsou is an observational guy

He figured you weren't as innocent as you looked before you proved him right

All of which he figured out with distance.

When set to spar together, he was avoiding all of your agile moves, each one of your attacks

You were pressed to do give it your 100%

With a swing, you attempted to go for his neck with your fist, the purple haired man catching your fist.

He tried to get a blow at your torso, you swatted his fist.

when you tried a strike with the other, he caught that one too.

His leg scooped in the back of your knees, the two of you toppling to the ground.

Toshi is a good boi, he made sure you wouldn't get hurt before he went through with such a calculated move

“ oh kitten- ” he chuckled, tired eyes lock in onto your own. “ nobody expects this of you. . Only fools will underestimate you. ” his tone was eerie

You used your propped up knee to push yourself over. Turning the tables, Toshi on bottom now. “ nice to know. ” you mumbled with a savage smile.

Next thing you know you were helping each other up and leaving the training grounds.

Its when you and Shinsou went on your first date that he learned you were a dancer.

He didn't seem too phased honestly, but he thought it was cool!

“ Can I go to your next recital? ” he asked, thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

You said yes

Before the start of the recital, your eyes wandered endlessly around the stadium.

' where is he? ' your lips curling into a frown.

Maybe he decided he didn't care?

Little did you know, he was in the front row. Just dressed in a suit. . Classy Shinsou is rare

When you leaped across the stage, his large purple orbs followed your angelic form like a puppy eyeing a treat.

He isn't one to pump you up with compliments, but when you finally realized he was staring with a strong force of admiration, that said all.

He would stand and applaud afterward, meeting you in the back room for a bland congratulations and soft hug.

He'll be at every single recital

Every. One.

Dabi

Your innocence was cute, don't get him wrong

But his goal was to corrupt you.

He would place wondering hands on your body, expecting you to become a shell of a human and color to drain from your face

Instead your expression turned playful as you prompted him

Sinful things probably followed

And that's how he learned you werent fragile

With that in mind, this man had nO control

You already know a relationship with him entails dirtiness to keep it sPiCy

And I kid you not, your gracefulness drives him over the edge

Your movement was so controlled it's just- *chefs kiss*

The part of the town the compound was in definitely wasn't a good part of town

So you got harrased :((

“ hey pretty lady, ” a drunk man cooed, his large and sweaty hands running down your arm. “ come with me to the back. . ” he smiled and roughly tugged at your arm.

You could have easily shown this man a piece of your mind. The ghastly shrieks that filled the air stopped you though.

Dabi melted his face off, then left with you like nothing happened.

This why people don't mess with you anymore

Again, this is what makes the two of you a good team. He has your back, you have his, but you can both take care of yourselves.

He didn't really care to know you danced

It's just a hobby, when should he care? Do what you want.

If you dragged him off to recitals or anything don't be surprised if you see him playing on his phone or otherwise not paying attention.

Gives 0 fucks.

If for any reason he is watching

Probably because he think you look sexy.

Maybe it's the outfit, maybe it the way your body flows, who knows?

If you come to him bothered that he doesn't like your dancing, he will either

reassure you that he thinks you look incredibly sexy when you dance, and try to pay a little more attention to your routines

No promises^

Brush off your feelings and move on

Really isn't his cup of tea but A for effort

Bonus: he's asked you to dance on/for him

You're a dancer, of course you know how to lap dance. Of CoUrSe.

Idiot

“ doll, why don't you come show me some of those moves? ” he asks cheekily, already leading you back to the bedroom.

You still did. And you did well. So that's a win on his part-

Overhaul

Kai could appreciate your dancing, there was some sort of elegance in it.

The way your body moved from one figure to another just had his eyes drawn to you like magnets.

The fact that he kidnapped you for entertainment was besides the point

Well initially

You were given the option to leave, but you didn't.

Same offer does NOT apply now that you made your choice

The reason you were taken is for your doe eyes and soulful smile

You put up a damn good fight

But in the end you were being jumped by a few gang members.

Not to mention your escape attempts?

So thought out, and you came this close to busting out of the secret door each time.

Kai’s eyes burned holes hrough your skull when you were restrained to your bed.

“ love, why would you try to leave me? You know bad things could happen. . ” his tone sent goosebumps down your back

He's just possessive

Other than that, you can pretty much do what you want

So long as you stay in base

He turned a room into a dance studio for you

That's just how he shows affection.

he wants to sit and watch you dance until your knees buckle.

You bet your ass he will too.

“ where are you going? ” his eye brows knitted. “ I'm not done watching. ” he growled lowly, as you returned to your craft with a pout.

But that's fine,,,,

Even though he's not a huge fan of touching you

He gives the best massages.

(I'm actually so so sorry for this one, I haven't written Kai and oh my gOd I need to fix this characterization)

Eijiro Kirishima

This beautiful rock man

He thinks you are so adorable.

Literally precious okay, even before romantic ties developed

But when you become a badass out of nowhere, he's kinda stunned

You turned to Mineta and told him off for objectifying you, finishing that confrontation with a kick right to his crotch.

The grape boy wheezed and began to cry, but you walked off unbothered.

Of course Kiri, who had been on his way to save you from his perverted classmate, was like- “ huh?? ”

You being anything but reserved was a new emotion.

He didn't mind of course, he was excited to learn more about you.

And when he learns you're a dancer?

Oh boy.

Eiji supports you. Without a question!

And that's on being manly.

He shows up with roses to every single recital you have, dressed in fine attire, and will be the loudest person in the crowd.

“ WOoOOo!! YOU DID AMAZING Y/N! I LOVE YOUU!! ” He shouted from the top of his lungs.

Actually the first time he said I love you

Lowkey has good moves himself

You'll see that when he's dancing around the dorms to some cheesy music denki or Mina played

If you need help with a move he will put sweat, blood, and tears into perfecting it with you.

He literally won't shut up about you

When he's with his friends?

“ she's so beautiful! You should see her dance too! ” he gushed

Family?

“ y/n is so amazing. . (More babbles about you) ”

A wall?

“ I love y/n so much- ”

Just love him back okay

Tomura Shigaraki

This crusty man has his head in the game and all, but he totally swept you to the side.

He wants things to be blunt and direct

So when you were over there looking like a pure angel he just thought you were

As apart of the liberation front, he expected you to be there for covert missions, and not throw yourself into battle

But when you were over here taking out three heroes simultaneously??

It dawned on him that you were so much more useful.

It had been a late night and Shigs couldn't sleep, so he planned to hang out with you.

Your light shone under the crack of your door, prompting him to ask for your company

He placed a soft knock on your door to which there was no reply.

Instead, the melody of soft classical tunes drifted to his ears. The door creaked open, allowing the blue haired man a peak of insight as to what you were doing.

He saw your figure parading around the room in small leaps, harmonious twirls, and gentle hand movements.

His crimson eyes widened at what he saw. Not only did he realize how beautiful you are, but you were so soothing to watch?

For a little while he will beat around the bush

“ y/n, what were you up to last night? ” he asked, sounding as innocent as a mere child. “ hmm? ” his hands weaved together under his chin, leg swing in under his barstool.

Like when you already know something but you ask somebody anyways just to see what they would say yknow

He would make this one of his favorite things to do, watch you dance.

Over time you caught him staring through your door, and you weren't exactly happy about it

“ tomura! ” you squeaked, catching a glimpse of his florescent red orbs.

You raced over to the door, pausing your music with a fast tap to the pad of your phone.

“ why were you watching me? ” you frowned at your boyfriend, your shoulders building tense.

“ y/n. . ” he mumbled, hand searching for his agitated neck. “ I just couldn't look away. ”

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo did not underestimate your abilities. Ever.

From his experiences, he knows not to judge a person's abilities until you get a taste of what they can do.

He tried so hard to manipulate you into using your quirk, or just not being the peaceful person you came off as.

He faaaaailed

When you got to knew him better, you didn't hesitate to mop the floor with him.

He's impressed by your effort, so points there

He definitely liked your soft persona, on the contrary to his.

He won't tell you that though.

The closer you two got, the more he would step in to defend you and stick by your side.

The one time you snapped on somebody, he was left shaking in his boots.

He hasn't seen you behave like that. . He liked it 😏

Now don't get me wrong-

Baku didn't care for your dancing.

He didn't give a single fuck, okay

But whenever he actually saw your graceful dances on stage???

Consider him your biggest fan

But you wouldn't ever find that out. At least he thoughts so.

“ I have another recital tonig- ” you were cut off by an irritated Baku.

“ if you want me to go, just ask, dumbass! Stop whining. ” he snapped, leaving you blinking and dumbstruck

go off lord explosion murder-

He's in the front row just sitting there like

W O W

You already know he'll praise you for your preformance, whether those compliment were backhanded or of pure intent.

And if anybody dare thinks about down talking your dancing? They will be ripped. ..He would tear them apart with him bare hands. no cap.

If you absolutely amaze him, you will get the one in a lifetime chance to watch him stand up and scream your name with a proud grin, something along the lines of-

“ LOOK AT Y/N! (pronoun)'S DOING FUCKING AMAZING, JUST FUCKING LOOK AT MY BABY- ” his hand directed towards you, and you couldn't help but burn a shade of deep rose.

Tamaki Amajiki

Before you two were in a relationship, you had him fooled.

Like Tamaki, you look like a cinnamon roll, but can murder somebody.

You are commonly underestimated, which gives you the upper hand. A lot.

Tamaki taught you how to use that

Training with him was just so sweet.

He'd be scared to hurt you though

Let's add to the fact that since you like like an easy target, you would probably get messed with.

He would be the first to step in and protect you

Despite the fact his hands are shaking, and he stutters a mess.

“ my suneater. . My hero. ” you planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

Here lies Tamaki Amajiki, Rest In Peace

Don't even get me started on your dancing.

He loves it! Absolutely melts his heart.

When he watches you at recitals, rehearsals, maybe even in the dorms, he feels the depth of your movement.

He becomes a flustered mess in the distance,,,,

“ I can't believe thats my bunny, she's doing so well! ” he quietly cooed from the audience.

He will not miss any of your recitals. Unless it's an emergency.

Even then, get prepared for massive cuddles when he gets back.

He'll feel guilty about not being there, he's more upset than you are.

“ Tama it's fine- ” you chuckled softly, cradling your boyfriend in a hug.

“ are you sure bunny? I'm sure you did amazing, and I missed it! ” he whined, fighting the urge to plant his face onto a wall and never look back.

Other than tons of extra love after a missed performance, he will without a doubt dress fancy and bring you a bouquet and some little gifts.

100/10 will pepper you with compliments

Honestly he's an angel

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cursed-ice-spirits · 4 years

Text

HPMA PROFILE: ASTRID REES

Profile Template by @hogwartsmystory (I’M SORRY FORGOT TO CREDIT YOU)

IDENTITY

Birth Name: Astrid Lord

Current Name: Astrid Rees

Gender: Female

Age: 17

Birth Date: October 10th, 1993

Species: Metamorphmagus

Blood Status: Half-blood

Sexuality: Lesbian

Alignment: True Neutral

Ethnicity: Vietnamese / Greek

Nationality: Greek

Residence: Ipswich, England

THE MAGE

Wand:

Hornbeam.

Dragon heartstring

14 inches

Pliable

Hornbeam selects for its life mate the talented witch or wizard with a single, pure passion, which some might call obsession - more kindly - vision, which will almost always be realized. Hornbeam wands adapt more quickly than almost any other to their owner’s style of magic, and will become so personalized, so quickly, that other people will find them extremely difficult to use even for the most simple of spells.

Hornbeam wands likewise absorb their owner’s code of honor, whatever that might be, and will refuse to perform acts - whether for good or ill - that do not tally with their master’s principles. A particularly fine-tuned and sentient wand.

Animagus: N/A

Misc Magical Abilities:

Caldwell Veer - Ability to HOST spirits. Spirits can possess her partially and fully and speak through her, even use her body regardless if she gives permission or not, and she is 100% aware of what’s happening when she’s possessed. This is more of a passive ability than anything without the spirit magic, and is more likely to work against her than work with her. While Perseus and Theseus can protect her from spirits with horrible intentions just fine, if she is without the control of her body for too long, she can be more vulnerable, and her Greek ancestors can often… get carried away while controlling her body.

Boggart Form: Herself staring out blankly with hollow eyes. She’s not doing anything. She’s not saying anything. She’s just standing there, like a husk.

Riddikulus Form: Laughter. Laughter spilling out from herself, eyes glinting, strong and proud. And in control of herself. Laughter, as she spun around and danced with glee

Amortentia: (What do they smell like?) Raspberries, roses and chamomile

Amortentia: (What do they smell?) Strawberries, honeycomb, lemon cheesecake, thyme and freshly cut grass

Patronus: Drakon

Patronus Memory: Unknown.

Mirror of Erised: A family that actually loves her

Specialized/Favourite Spells:

Non-verbal magic. Mute.

Curabitur verbum, a spell she created herself to summon words above her head to translate her sign language

Ebublio, learned as a just in case, and in an attempt to destroy a horcrux

Nebulus, learned to conceal her from sight if she ever needs to make a quick get-away

Relashio, learned because she hated being grabbed and will use it without hesitation

Sonorous, learned to project her classmates’ rude words and get them in trouble

APPEARANCE

Faceclaim: Veronica Ngo (base for artbreeder)

Voiceclaim: Phillipa Soo

Game Appearance: N/A

Height: 6’2

Weight: 170 pounds

Physique: Tall and lean, with muscles as someone who specializes with dual swords. She’s strong, and it shows. (varies as a metamorphmagus)

Eye Colour: Black, shining blue in the light (varies as a metamorphmagus)

Hair Colour: Black (varies as a metamorphmagus)

Skin Tone: Light tan (varies as a metamorphmagus)

Body Modifications: Ear piercings on both earlobes and three helix piercings. The helix piercings are gold bands that curl around her ear and the piercings on her ears are intricate crystals.

Scarring: A large V-shaped scar on her back, and a scar over her right eye

Inventory:

Wand

Wood Carving tools

Thick sticks of wood

A knife

Two gold rings that can turn into her swords

A rose pin with a hidden knife

A handkerchief that she never touches with her bare hands

A hand mirror

Fashion: Black and red. She dresses like a goth, with ripped leggings and black attire, chokers, spikes, boots, and fingerless gloves. She wears bits of red, but her most obvious red clothing is her flannel, which she wears around her waist during hot weather. She would go for more simple and practical black clothing if she is in a school or home setting, but will relax into a more intricate clothing if placed in a formal and fancy setting. It is noted that she will never wear colors other than red, as she thinks it doesn’t fit her.

ALLEGIANCES

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Ilvermorny House: Horned Serpent

Affiliations/Organizations:

Slytherin House

Chosens by Aphrodite

Olympia School of Magic (school by @kathrynalicemc)

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Professions:

Undecided

HOGWARTS INFORMATION

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: E

Charms: E

DADA: O

Flying: O

Herbology: A

History of Magic: E

Potions: E

Transfiguration: O

Electives:

Magical Theory: O

Ancient Runes: O

Quidditch: Chaser

Extra Curricular:

Quidditch

Gladiator Dueling Club (formerly; in Olympia)

Arts Club

Dungeons and Dragons club

Favourite Professors: N/A. No opinion

Least Favourite Professors: N/A. No opinion

RELATIONSHIPS

Father: Jacob Vincent Lord

Pureblood

Slytherin

Black hair, black eyes, light tan skin

Natural Legilimens

Researcher in mind magic and legilimency. Isolated himself away because of what happened during school, and handed the family to Rebecca.

Conceived her one day when he was venturing in Greece and had a one-night stand with a greek woman, who abandoned her at an orphanage

He has no idea of her existence. It is only when she showed up out of nowhere that he knew. He does try to be there but Astrid is distrustful of everyone around her so it’s awkward

Mother: Unknown Greek Woman

Jacob does not remember much about the women he conceived Astrid with, but he did remember she was a beautiful woman with dark brown curly hair and tan skin

Her intentions of abandoning Astrid at the orphanage are largely unknown, regardless if it’s good or bad but nonetheless, she was left there.

There is not much known about her, but what is known is that she is from a bloodline of two Greek heroes in greek myths, Perseus and Theseus, son of Zeus and Poseidon respectively

It is unknown where this woman is right now, but Astrid does not want to meet her, so it’s unlikely she ever will.

Love Interest: N/A

Best Friends: N/A

Rival: N/A

Enemy: Velia Caldwell and her followers

Dormmates: N/A

Pets: None

Closest Canon Friends: TBD

Closest MC Friends: None so far but do let me know if you want to be. Fair warning, it will take a while for Astrid to warm up to you

BACKGROUND/HISTORY

Before you get to know Astrid, you must get to know her father. Jacob Lord, the man who got expelled while searching for the fabled Cursed Vaults. Despite years after the Cursed Vaults were long broken, the trauma was still there, of being stuck in the portrait and putting his sister in danger. So, for the next few years after his sister graduated, he chose to isolate himself

His sister handed the Head position to him until he returned, and one of the places he went to clear his head was Greece. While at a bar, he met a woman that will later become Astrid’s mother. Months later, Astrid was born

She was abandoned at an orphanage, and as a child, she was loud and proud, never afraid to speak her mind. She was isolated and a loner, and years of bullying built up layers and layers of trust issues, and rendered herself mute. She stayed at this orphanage until she was old enough to attend Olympia School of Magic. She did not trust anyone, but slowly, slowly, she made herself a home at Olympia.

Until one day, one of the followers of Velia Caldwell traveling in Greece for a mission spotted her. While they can’t take their anger out on Rebecca’s children, they can take their anger out on Jacob’s, and so while she slept, she was taken from her home and to Britain, the memory of her life erased.

Led to believe she was given up to them, she lived in bitterness as she was treated as a weapon. They trained up her powers, and used her to summon spirits to her mind, and as her powers grew, her two ancestors slowly slipped into her mind, until the time was right.

Perseus woke up first, wielding her swords, and used them to cut through and kill. Theseus woke up next, advising her on what to do next. She fled through the floo, carrying the handkerchief the followers insisted on protecting, and landed in Ipswich

Shortly after, she was found by a staff of Hogwarts, and taken to attend Hogwarts, where the events of her meeting her biological family took place

PERSONALITY

Manipulative: In order to survive the orphanage and Velia’s followers, she needed to be manipulative. This is a defining trait of hers, as she puts on layers and layers of masks to hide. She can turn from quiet and calm, to cruel and merciless in seconds. She’s a good liar, and she knows how to use people and get them to do what she wants. Add it to her ability as a metamorphmagus, she can twist people and use them easily. It’s not to say she’s a bad person per se, she’s just a traumatized girl who uses this to defend herself, not that it’s an excuse if she ever hurts someone

Distrustful and Paranoid: With how much she’s been through, it’s honestly no wonder she’s built up trust issues. She doesn’t trust anyone around her, and it’s only after a series of tests that allows her to trust you. She can distrust the right person and be proven of her suspicions… or she distrust the wrong person, and it can lead to consequences

Reclusive: Combined with her trauma and her trust issues, she would rather stay away from people then to interact with friends. She’s quiet and she doesn’t mind being alone. She’s not sullen though, she’s just quiet, and a loner.

Self-Loathing: If there’s anyone Astrid distrusts more than anything, it’s herself. She does not think she deserves to be loved and upon discovering that she’s a lesbian, she believed that she doesn’t deserve that kind of love.

Protective: Those who pushed and pushed to gain her trust proved themselves as trustworthy, and Astrid is protective over these selected few. She keeps them close to her heart, and she can and will fight fiercely for them. But she knows what’s her fight and what’s not.

Intelligent: Astrid is smart. She needed to be. She invented a spell that allows her to communicate with others and she has no hesitation in using the magic she can use and manipulating it to something out of the box. She takes in everything that went unnoticed by everyone else. It’s not like it’s hard. Everyone ignores the quiet person

MISC

As stated before, Astrid is a selective mute. She doesn’t like to talk and prefers not to. She communicates through sign language, which she later makes a spell to help translate it.

Astrid struggles at magic. When it comes to a real fight, she’s more likely to use her swords or base her magic around them. Her grades are what they are because she worked to get them where they need to be but in reality she’s only average.

When it comes to learning new spells, she will have to practice them over and over again in order to get a handle on how they work, and due to being mute, she’s a master at non-verbal magic, so if she masters a certain spell, she can cast it without a sound or warning.

She’s ingenious enough to create a spell, but she needed the magic to make it work, so therefore she’s jealous of anyone who can get it on the first try.

She learned her skills in sword fighting from the gladiator duels at her former school and although her memories of her former life were erased, her body still remembers how to use her swords and she won’t forget it if she continues to polish it up. It’s her proudest skill

Her ancestors can only speak through her, not to her, and because she is very aware of what happens around her when she’s possessed, they often take over her body to advise her. Due to being children of Zeus and Posiedon, they would often argue over what’s best for her, and the constant switching of control leads to horrible headaches.

She hated her will being taken from her. It’s her biggest fear. That one day, it’ll be taken from her too long that she will forever become a husk, as that’ll happen if she’s not in control for far too long.

Astrid is noted to look a lot like her father, a fact that she resents once she finds out, not because she hated her father but because she couldn’t bear looking like someone who she believed had left her all alone. Once she finds out that he didn’t, she grows into it as time passes by. Her looks are the main reason how her biological family came to know who she is.

She has a wood carving hobby. She likes playing with her carving knife when she’s bored and when she’s struck with inspiration she can be seen whittling away at some wood. That’s why she carries it around.

Interested in Ancient Greece for very obvious reasons

The moment Rebecca saw her, she knew she’s Jacob’s daughter and was furious that he let her grow up without a family, as he knew what an impact it had on her. When Astrid is settled, Rebecca set off ready to make a man regret being born, only to realize he didn’t know

When it comes to her manipulation and masks, think of Claude from Three Houses, except she’ll be wearing a different type of mask, but the intention of appearing as someone you aren’t stays . Generally, she’s quiet (obviously) and she can be helpful, but she’s aloof. Of course, that is but a mask. Get past one and you’ll know she’s bitter, and she’ll want you to stay away from her. Get past another, you’ll know she’s a lot softer than you think.

#magic awakened #harry potter magic awakened #hpma #hpma oc #profile #astrid rees #i know she has a different tag but whatever #anyway guess who decided to make another hpma oc and revived an olympia oc of mine? :D this bitch #this surprisingly didn't take too long but that's bc most of her backstory was already written up in my head #i'm wondering if you guys can see the little hints i threw in bc i laughed while creating her. only one knows and she's not here #anyway here's astrid!! my bby

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marvella15 · 4 years

Text

Astaire & Rogers Rewatch Part 7: Shall We Dance

• Something I didn’t consciously realize about this film until reading Hannah Hyam’s book is that Astaire and Rogers don’t dance together until nearly an hour in. That hasn’t happened since Gay Divorcee. What was anyone thinking??

• Shall We Dance suffers from a lot of extra crap that it didn’t need, such as extraneous characters, far too many interruptions in the Astaire and Rogers relationship, and a bunch of weirdness like life-sized dolls, life-like masks, and backbending ballerinas. The film also has a lot of wasted potential, including a great score and songs by George and Ira Gershwin.

The Gershwins were already well acquainted with Astaire and Rogers. The duo had first met when she was starring in the brothers’ show, Girl Crazy, and Astaire was brought in to help with choreography. Rogers was close friends with George and even dated him. Astaire had known the brothers prior, having starred in a few of their shows with his sister, Adele.

• Our characters/actors: Peter “Petrov” Peters (Fred Astaire), Linda Keene (Ginger Rogers), Jeffrey Baird (Edward Everett Horton), Arthur Miller (Jerome Cowan)

• Around the time I was first really into classic Hollywood films, including these ones, my family and I adopted a new dog. I annoyed my parents to no end by suggesting we name him Peter P. Peters. Don’t know why I latched onto that name but I did.

• Even in the massive portrait of Petrov, you can see Astaire has his fingers curled in rather than fully extended.

• Astaire’s ballet attire lets us once again see just how skinny he is.

• Always loved how Peter does a little tap at the rhythmic sound of his name and birthplace: Pete Peters, Philadelphia PA.

• Rogers’ cardigan with all of its baubles is truly awful looking. It will only be out done by a terrible floral dress she wears later.

• I do however like that she shoves her handsy stage partner into a fountain. Why are men constantly the worst?

• “And why must there always be a kiss at the second-act curtain?” is YET ANOTHER example of these films trolling us. Not once up until this point has any act of an Astaire/Rogers outing included a kiss between them.

• Linda’s disinterest in even meeting Petrov is based on the assumption that he’s a “simpering toe dancer.” While that’s incorrect, she’s not wrong that he is indeed another man who has seen a picture of her and wants to tell her he can’t live without her. So she gets partial credit.

• If Peter wasn’t totally smitten before, Linda’s jab, “It’s just a game little American boys play” gets him.

• As a mixed race number, “Slap That Bass” is incredibly unusual for the era. Astaire was a great admirer of African-American dancers and was strongly influenced by Bill Robinson and John W. Bubbles. I love the blend of all of the voices in this song.

• The dance portion of “Slap That Bass” gives Astaire a chance to show off more of his innovative mind and choreography. He dances in time with the sounds of the ship’s engine and compels the camera to follow him across and up the vast set. The dance is also special in that we have behind the scenes footage of Astaire rehearsing, thanks to a home video shot by George Gershwin.

• Peter making Jeffrey believe the boat is rocking may seem a bit unbelievable but having been on a large ship myself, sometimes you don’t realize it’s rocking until you see other passengers weaving or a giant chandelier swaying.

• I usually skip most if not all of Jeffrey and Arthur’s scenes together. They slow down this film soooo much.

• Like in all of their films, songs are sometimes heard in the background before the actual musical number they appear in. But because this film is scored by the Gershwins, there’s an array of shorter pieces of music that are all their own, such as the whimsical score heard while Rogers and then Rogers with Astaire are walking her dog.

• The dog Peter borrows to give himself an excuse to talk to Linda hits his bark cue perfectly and looks extremely happy about it.

• I would love to know what exactly Astaire and Rogers are talking about while walking her dog. Maybe they were given lines that were then not recorded or maybe it’s improv. But it seems very natural.

Rogers did say that Astaire was a wonderful conversationalist and was adept at talking while dancing, something she noted most men couldn’t manage.

• Wow do I love it when Rogers gets to be extra sassy

Peter: “Isn’t it wonderful being here tonight like this? Still on the same boat together.”

Linda: “Oh, I seldom change boats in mid-ocean.”

• “Beginner’s Luck” is such a charming, fast song that Astaire delivers wonderfully. He hardly seems to take a breath.

A jazzed up version of “Beginner’s Luck” is the song Peter tried to dance to in Paris but the record kept getting stuck.

• Something this movie fails at is letting Linda and Peter’s relationship continue to progress before throwing more obstacles in their way. We know from the gossip of the ship’s staff that they have been spending a lot of time together. When we see them, they are having a relaxing evening that’s incredibly domestic: sitting side by side on the deck while she knits and he smokes. Wouldn’t it have been nice to see more of this part of their relationship?

• Why on earth did Peter think sending Jeffrey to fix the false baby rumors was the right decision? Jeffrey can’t handle a single thing.

• Infuriated at the rumors that she’s married to Peter and pregnant with their baby, Linda tries to call him. “Operator! Get me Mr. Petrov. What? Don’t you dare congratulate me!”

• The theme of this movie is supposed to be the blend of dancing and music styles. Peter’s ballet and Linda’s jazz styles are one example, George Gershwin’s varied score, which switches from jazz to waltz to foxtrot to classical, etc, is another. But it’s a fairly weak concept that doesn’t quite land and reportedly, neither Astaire or Ira Gershwin was wild about it.

• I love the new version of “Slap That Bass” that plays as Peter and Jeffrey enter the rooftop club.

• When Rogers sings “They All Laughed,” she is singing to an off-screen Cary Grant, her friend and sometimes date who was visiting the set at the time.

She is also wearing a dress with a horrible pattern. It’s supposed to be floral but it always makes me think of amoebas. Maybe it looked better in color?

• Astaire clearly has fun during the part where Peter hams it up a bit with his ballet next to Linda’s tapping.

• In some ways, “They All Laughed” is reminiscent of “Isn’t it a Lovely Day.” They’re testing each other, trading glancing as they see whether the other can keep up with the increasingly complex steps. Until now, Linda didn’t know Peter could dance this way so her surprise and amusement unfolds slowly as the routine progresses. But he has been grinning since the start because he’s hoping to win her back through this dance.

• This is another duet where it takes a long time before they touch. The first physical contact is just her executing a series of spins with the help of his fingers. And it’s during this part that Rogers finally breaks into a wide smile.

• When he spins her up onto the piano the first time, she happily waits for him to retrieve her. And when he spins her into a seated position and upright again a few times don’t miss how he looks at her with a wry, slightly mischievous smile.

• The Linda doll is so creepy and not lifelike. Who was fooled by this?

Also, Arthur is terrible. Jeffrey is terrible too but he’s an idiot so I’m more willing to let it slide.

• Peter walking out of Linda’s bedroom in the morning in his robe right in front of her fiancé while she is in her negligee is pretty funny.

• Peter and Linda’s nice day out is just further proof that this movie should’ve spent more time on the two of them together rather than breaking them up every few minutes.

• “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off” is a fun song, though Astaire gets most of the good words imo. However, Rogers does do an extra affectation to some of her lyrics and that makes them funnier.

At one point when she’s singing, he turns to her and for just a moment his face goes soft in that way it does sometimes when he looks at her.

• Some film historians have labeled this dance as not that great when compared to other Astaire and Rogers numbers. But I’ve always found it very enjoyable and innovative. While Gene Kelly probably takes the gold medal for dancing on skates in It’s Always Fair Weather, Astaire and Rogers did it first, did it well, and deserve some extra credit for a duet on skates rather than a solo.

Rogers also deserves some extra credit since the idea to dance on skates was supposedly hers. And probably deserves even more credit for doing this dance on skates while also in heels.

• For some reason I really enjoy that they perform this number in their hats and street clothes. It’s so informal and feels like something you do on a fun date.

• Throughout this dance, Peter continues to be the playful one, as he’s been in their interactions in the film, and Linda is the more serious one who needs to be coaxed into having fun. Maybe this is why Astaire frequently glances at her and even spends long seconds watching her at different parts as they move into the next series of steps. Rogers is more reserved in her expressions but whenever they are face to face, she appears happiest.

A few times she looks triumphant, leading me to wonder if they or she had finally nailed a section that was giving them or her trouble.

• Can’t say for certain but I swear she almost falls when they do the backwards steps. She just baaaarely snags his hand in time.

They had to film this dance something like 150 times so I imagine there was more than one time where at least one of them did indeed fall.

• The circular dance they do leading up to the end is based on a dance Astaire and his sister made famous in their time on the stage.

• Apparently the grassy bank they tumble onto wasn’t padded so those fake grimaces of pain aren’t that fake. Their exchange after the tumble feels very much like married banter to me:

Peter: “Yes, it was my idea.”

Linda: “Have you any more of them?”

Peter, exaggerating: “No.”

• They’re such a good match:

Linda: “Peter, you’ve got to marry me.”

Peter: “Why, Linda, this is so sudden.”

• Oh 1930s Hays Code humor. The cop who overhears their conversation thinks she’s pregnant and pressuring the father of the baby into marrying her. Hurr hurr hurr.

• Heh:

Linda: “I beg your pardon but what are grounds for divorce in this state?”

Clerk: “Marriage.”

• It will never make sense to me that a dance was not planned in this film for “They Can’t Take That Away From Me.” It’s a truly lovely song. I know Astaire and Rogers will dance to it more than ten years later in The Barkleys of Broadway but it’s just not the same.

It’s also a good reminder in the film that Peter has legitimate feelings for Linda and she does for him but they’re far more conflicted. Though he must sense he’s hooked her in a bit since he becomes very aloof once they return to the hotel in the stupid hope of making her want him more? Idk, men are dumb.

• “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” carries special poignancy because it became a form of consolation to Ira Gershwin after his brother suddenly died two months after this film was released.

• Oh Linda’s face when she walks in to see Peter with the loathsome Lady Tarrington is so sad and crestfallen. Ever thought you and your crush were finally on the same page only to find them canoodling with someone else?

Although, she could’ve knocked first instead of just walking straight into his room…

• The ballet portion of the finale is weird and unappealing in every way. Harriet Hoctor was known for the backbend dance she does in this film. Maybe it was something spectacular in 1937?? but it doesn’t hold up.

One thing I’ll say about Astaire’s duet with Hoctor, it’s a great chance to see him in a romantic duet with someone other than Rogers and notice how different he acts. No secret smile, no lingering looks, no whispered words, no soft expressions.

• “Shall We Dance” is another upbeat song that deserves more than being featured in the remaining few minutes of the film. Their dance is far too short but wonderful all the same. Her delight when he finds her always makes me smile. She also executes some impressive full length lunges that I couldn’t do at this moment much less in a dress and heels in the middle of a dance number.

For a few seconds, his fingers press into the exposed dip of her spine in yet another example of Victorian hotness.

• And so we finish film number 7. Shall We Dance underperformed at the box office and wasn’t a critical darling. Everyone, the actors included, started to feel the magic was coming to an end. Coming up next is a film I pretty much never rewatch: Carefree.

#fred astaire #ginger rogers #shall we dance #classic hollywood #old hollywood #fred and ginger #astaire and rogers rewatch #all astaire/rogers gifs without credit are mine

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words-writ-in-starlight · 5 years

Text

Some Trans!Danny Thoughts

When this hit its second page, I moved it to a new post. In no particular order of importance.

When Danny was a year old and learning to talk, he spent two hours getting in a power struggle with his then-three-year-old sister where she pointed to him and said “Danielle” and he said “Dannel” back, and then she told him “Jasmine” and he answered “Jassem”, and it ended with two kids in tears and Maddie having straight-up given up. This was not so much a gender thing as a “kids getting into a screaming match about nothing of import” thing. Instead of trying to fight the point, Maddie decided that her kids were now named Dani and Jazz, and that mostly resolved the issue. It was also extremely convenient later.

Maddie and Jack are not, shall we say, the most attentive parents in the world. Danny was in the third grade before he was required to attend a formal event of any kind (it was Jazz’s elementary school graduation), and while Maddie did manage to wrangle him into a dress, he scowled through the whole thing. Then Jazz bounced down to them, grinning and bright-eyed, and dropped her robe onto his head, because it was June and too warm for it. He spent the next hour running around like a wizard and destroyed the lower third of his dress and that was pretty much the ballgame on Danny and formal attire. He wore jeans to his elementary school graduation.

Jazz started being mostly in charge of making sure Danny had clothes that weren’t, A, full of holes, or B, contaminated around when she was twelve. She decided to do the big sister thing right and took him to Target, whereupon Jazz immediately got decision paralysis. This turned into Danny, ten, and Jazz, twelve, staring at each other in the baby clothes section like they had walked into a parallel dimension, until finally Danny very slowly lifted up a blue newborn onesie covered in elephants and said “I think we’re in the wrong section,” and then they had to sit down on the floor so as not to knock anything over while they lost it. It was a weird day for the Target employees. Jazz pulled it together enough to turn Danny loose and tell him that he needed three t-shirts, a jacket, a pair of pants, and underwear, but not enough to actually dictate anything about the clothes he found. If her sister wanted to run around in block colored t-shirts and a boy’s hoodie, that was between Danny and God.

The ONE dysphoria headcanon I will be including is that Danny was one of those people who went from completely flat chested to a C-cup more or less overnight when he was eleven and suddenly all the mild discomfort he’d ignored through most of his life crystallized. Jazz offhand said that they should go buy a couple bras, because she needed some more too, and Danny fully blue-screened out for five minutes before Jazz snapped her fingers in his face and went “Hey, Earth to Fenton, are you okay?”

“I don’t want to do that,” Danny said.

“What, go shopping? Listen, we haven’t gotten lost in a store since--”

“I don’t want to get--” Danny stopped there, because he was suddenly really not prepared to say any of the words that might go at the end of that sentence. “Can’t I just not?”

“Not—buy a bra?” Jazz asked carefully.

“Yeah.” And Jazz’s baby sister blinked at her from under the shaggy overgrown pixie cut she’d been getting since she was old enough to have preferences, and Jazz thought, a little idly, well, Dani won’t be able to look like a boy anymore, if she looks anything like me and Mom.

And then Jazz, budding psychologist, opened her mouth, shut it, and said, “Tell you what, how about we don’t worry about it right now.” So they didn’t, and watched a movie, and then after Dani went to bed, Jazz hauled one of her secondhand psychology textbooks off a bookshelf and started doing reading.

Three days of intensive research later, she sidled up to Danny and said, “Hey, I have a weird question. Do you even want to be a girl, or what?”

“Sure,” Danny said, distracted by frowning over his summer homework, in the universal tone of I’m really not listening but okay, yeah. “I—hang on, what?”

“Would you be a girl if you had the option?”

Danny blinked at her, again, and said, like Jazz was an idiot, “Would you?”

“Yeah,” Jazz said. “I like being a girl. But I was thinking that maybe you might want to start school as Daniel?”

And then it was Dani’s turn, Danny’s turn, to open his mouth, shut it, and say, “Is that—a thing?”

“Sure,” Jazz said with completely unwarranted confidence. “I’m sure I can figure it out.”

Danny went over to Tucker’s the same afternoon and said, in a tone of total shock, “Hey, did you know I was a boy?” And that was pretty much the end of that conversation. The conversation with Sam also featured Sam’s very earnest attempt to convert Danny to being goth, but that was because Sam was going through a Phase and tried to convert anyone who asked her anything about clothing.

Jazz helps Danny figure out how to explain to their parents. Since it doesn’t involve ghosts, Maddie and Jack could really give a fuck what pronouns their kid uses, and since it doesn’t really change anything except that Jack starts calling him “Danny-boy” instead of “Dani-girl,” it’s not…remarkable.

Later, Jazz is going to think about that conversation, and about the way their dad boomed a laugh and said, “From your face, I thought you were going to tell us something awful—like you were a ghost! Sure thing, Danny-boy, sounds good.” And she’s going to understand why Danny told them one secret and not the other.

Danny’s pediatrician is just relieved that, at Danny’s pre-school yearly physical, Jazz’s only weird question is “can you prescribe hormone blockers” rather than something like “hey if you eat something contaminated with ectoplasm do you think that’ll have effects or…?” (Someone please put this woman out of her misery.)

Danny’s wearing his binder during the accident, which is very convenient, don’t get him wrong, but also that was his favorite binder and he’s annoyed about it getting permanently removed from his wardrobe. It didn’t do that rolly thing at the base of the elastic, it’s hard to find binders that don’t do the rolly thing. Sam listens to him complain about it twice and then she tries to smother him with a pillow and accidentally slam dunks him through his bed.

Also, he initially has some concerns about whether he can take his binder…off as Phantom? You’re not supposed to wear a binder while you exercise, Jazz has drilled this into his head, and it’s not until after his first major dustup with a ghost that he remembers, huh, fighting ghosts probably counts. Some experimenting proves that, while Phantom is a lot more…structured than your average ghost and his suit does come off, it can’t really sustain itself without him for long. If he leaves a glove or torn clothing behind, eventually it’ll start to crumble, or, more alarmingly, melt. On the upside, the suit seems to repair itself, and can straight up regrow any pieces that he loses. A little more experimenting proves that Phantom doesn’t breathe except to talk, and even that seems to be mostly habit, so Operation: Fight Ghosts In A Binder is a go.

Real conversation:

“So…this is Dani,” Danny says, doing kind of a ta-da gesture at the long-haired ghost who, undeniably, looks exactly like him, if a little younger. “She’s my clone.”

“Hi,” Jazz says gamely, and the ghost waves back. “What are you two going to do about the name thing? If you’re both named Daniel it’ll get confusing.”

“My name is Danielle,” the girl says, bemused. “It’s Dani, with an I.”

“She’s not trans,” Danny says with a shrug. Jazz feels about four hundred questions hurl themselves at the back of her teeth, and she takes a deep breath, and Danny is already smirking by the time she wrestles down the impulse to never stop talking. “I told you it would kill her not to be able to write a paper on us,” Danny tells Dani. Then he turns back to Jazz and says, “So, Vlad gave me a free sister and she literally does not own clothes. I figured you could take her to Target and have a meltdown in the baby section.”

“Danny! God, you’re such a brat, that was one time,” Jazz says, flushing, and she grabs Dani by the hand and drags her off while Danny cackles at their back. “Congratulations on your jerk brother,” Jazz tells Dani. “He’s giving me grey hair.”

“Don’t worry about it too much,” Dani says. “You’ll match.” Jazz narrows her eyes and Dani grins, unapologetic.

It makes Danny grin like an idiot the first time the Amity Times publishes a (nominally complimentary, before shit hits the fan) headline about the ghost boy, and he keeps a copy of the article.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #danny fenton is TRANS and you cannot STOP ME #jazz fenton #these are almost as much about jazz if i'm being honest i REALLY love jazz #anyway these are borne on the tide of my dissatisfaction with how every single trans danny thing is about dysphoria #i knoooooow okay i know i get it i know i GOT THE CONCEPT #can we PLEASE get some jokes up in here. some affirming stuff about jazz using her hyperfixation to figure out how to support her brother.#some stuff about how sam's entire conversation with danny was 'so if you're a dude are you going to change your look?'#'because i think maybe an eyebrow piercing or some gauges--' 'i'm not changing my look i like my shirts sam' 'danNY YOUR SHIRTS ARE BORING'#PLEASE give me sam (a bisexual goth drama queen) dunking on her boyfriend for dressing like every boring straight boy ever #(in any universe tbh come on folks)#danny was always going to end up tall but since he goes on t when he's 16 he's VERY tall #and since he's doing ghost hunting 40 hrs/week when he goes on t he also ends up PRETTY BUFF #(remind me to write some stuff about the following: how relieved danny is when he turns 25 and really doesn't look much like dan at all)#(and how profoundly uncomfortable danny is when his voice drops and turns into something WAY too close to dan's for comfort)#also listen i know that not many trans folks actually do the whole 'this is basically just my name but gendered differently' thing #but i (a person with a feminine first name and a masculine middle name) did so just let me project in peace #at some point some kid makes a joke in phantom's earshot about 'do ghosts even come in trans or what' and he's like 'i'm RIGHT here'#i have...more of these #a queue we will keep and our honor someday avenge

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ladybell9095 · 4 years

Text

My classes are finally over and finals are done with. My geebs haven’t posted in forever, SO here is a Christmas War/FemReader. It ain't the best. I honestly thought i could do better, but as soon as classes ended the holidays dominated my life and also car problems, but I digress. Please enjoy.

December 15th

While walking into the living room War hears you frustratingly sigh. “I thought your studies were over.” War looked over to you, annoyed that you were on your computer yet again.

Your eyes were glued to the screen as usually even though your classes were over. “You are correct.”

“Then why are you still on that square contraption?”

You finally took a break from the screen and rubbed your eyes. “Because I must find gifts for everyone.”

War looked down confused at your random spark of generosity. “Gifts?”

You looked to him with a gleam in your eye. “For Christmas. It’s just around the corner and I need to make sure I get gifts for everyone.”

Everything became clear once he heard the word Christmas. Truth be told War still wasn’t used to the concept of giving gifts to loved ones on “Christmas”. Your first Christmas together he didn’t care for the tradition and told you to focus on others. You listened at first, but you got him a present anyway. It has been well hidden, waiting to be accepted. This year though you would give him his gift and two more on top of that.

“Who are you giving gifts to?”, War asked knowing full well who was on your shopping list.

“Well there’s my family, your siblings, my friends, and there’s you.”

“You’re getting me a gift? What for?”

“Because it’s Christmas. Everyone deserves something on Christmas.”

War knew that this holiday meant much to you. He couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness towards him. “Can I ask what you plan to give me?”

“You can, but I’m not going to tell you. You’ll find out on Christmas.” You then return to your search for the ever-eluding perfect gifts. “Oh. I have a favor to ask. After I figure out what to get your brothers and sister can you deliver their presents for me just in case I don’t see them?”

“I will make sure that they are delivered.”

“Thank you. I hope they like what I get them.”

“It is not the gift that matters, but the thought.”

There was a slight smugness to your words. “I wonder who you learned that from?”

“I wonder indeed.” You feel some added weight on your head. “Will you be coming to bed?”

You looked to the time on your computer. “Yeah. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“If you’re not, I will come grab you myself.” And grabbed you he did after you went a minute over the given time.

December 22nd

You’ve just about gotten everyone’s gift. Everyone’s except Wars. About a week has been spent to prioritize the others and getting their gifts. Now it was time to find the perfect gift for War. This year he would get three. One being the gift you secretly got him even after he told you not to. The second you were currently searching for. The third one was something that you never saw yourself doing in a million years but decided to do it because War would absolutely love. At least you hope he does.

Since you were looking for Wars gift you made sure to keep your distance from the big guy. You didn’t want to, but at the same time you wanted the gift to be a surprise. Something had to give and only had to do so for a short while. When you brain went dead from all the possibilities of what to get you turned to his siblings for help.

Fury recommended something to help him in battle. War was a fighter, but what to get him where you didn’t have to travel to a different realm for. After the conversation deepened you found out that Fury was talking about gifts she would like to receive instead of thinking of her brother.

“I need some ideas on what to get for War as a gift and I thought you could help with that.”

“You underestimate how close all of us actually are.”

“So you can’t help?”

“I shall try my best, but I make no promises.” Fury began putting her mind to work. “Since War is the biggest out of all of us, he’ll need a bigger weapon.”

“Even bigger than the sword that he already has?” You honestly thought if it was even possible for War to wield anything bigger than that terrifying sword.

“Bigger. I know, get him a hammer. No. An axe.” A sinister laugh came from Fury. “Get both, so then I can do twice the killing.” You spent an hour with her listening to various methods to kill demons and with what weapon that would suit that method. Seeing how Fury was going to be no help you went on to the next sibling.

No matter how scary this man appeared you would talk to him by yourself for the sake of the perfect present for his little brother. Talking to Death wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. He gave some good ideas. Ideas that you could actually get your hands on.

“Your coming to me? To figure out a gift for War?”

“Yes.”, you answered quickly while at the same time rethinking your decision to seek advice from the Grim Reaper. “I tried Fury, but she gave me her Christmas list instead.”

“Fury was a poor choice. You should know that I’m not a great one either.”

“Oh…I see.” Your disappointment was clear as day. You knew it wasn’t the end of the world. You just thought that maybe it was possible that he would know something about War you didn’t.

Death sighed. “I am not a great choice…but I am better than Fury. You may want to write this down.” You made sure to write down everything he suggested and thanked him for it.

As an added measure you went to Strife. Out of all the siblings Strife knew War pretty well and Fury, but not Death. Those two are never on the best of terms. Anytime they occupied the same room there was always some sort of arguing amongst them. While explaining the gifts you already had gotten for War, Strife cut you off midway.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. Hold up. You’re actually going to—”

Now was your turn to cut him midway. “Don’t say it please. It’ll just sound weird leaving your mouth.”

“That hurts. It really does.” Strife lifted his hand in the air to your glare. “Alright I’ll stop talking about it. Anyways, so you went to Fury and she was no help at all.”

“Nope.”

“You went to Death and surprisingly he gave good advice.”

“He pointed me in the right direction.”

“Then why come to me? Sounds like everything is figured out.”

“You’d think so, but I’m at a complete loss.”

“You know all he needs is you right, but I guess you already have that planned out huh?”

Your face went flush. “I-I…I’m leaving.”

“Good luck. I’m sure War will love it!”, Strife shouted from behind.

December 23rd

Everything was finally finished. No more shopping. The Christmas party that War and his siblings decided to throw for you was planned out. There wasn’t much you could say about the party. All the horsemen told you that it was going to happen. It was such a relief to not have to worry about getting anymore gifts. It was also great that you and War could spend the holidays uninterrupted.

You plopped on the couch absolutely exhausted. “Damn the holidays. I love them, but my god are they exhausting.”

War took the seat next to you. “You’ve acquired everything you were looking for?”

“Yes. Its all over. Well almost. I still need to wrap them, but that can wait till tomorrow.” You rubbed at your temples to relieve the headache you felt coming on just by thinking about doing more work.

“Do you always expend this much energy for Christmas?”

“Of course I do. I have to even more so now that I have you.”

“If that is true your lacking in it right now.”

“You’ll see more of it on Christmas.” You drop a subtle hint which War immediately picked up on.

“What do you mean by that?”

Leaning into War, you hid your dead giveaway of a smile. “Oh nothing.” War wasn’t sure what you were up to, but those thoughts were abandoned once you were in his arms.

“Do you have any more plans for today?”

“No. Not that I’m aware of. Why?”

“It has been a while since we’ve gotten to spend time together.”

War had to say no more. He received a peck on the cheek. “I’m all yours from now on.”

December 25th

After getting the house ready for three more horsemen and taking out some games to play, the house was basically ready. The house looked like it had Christmas absolutely upchucked on it on the outside and the inside looked like it was hit by a holiday twister. Decorations covered almost ever inch of the house. There was the food for the party on the counter and gifts right under the tree.

What made everything worth the effort was the big tree that sat in the corner of the living room. It was the biggest tree you ever had. Thanks to having tall ceilings, renovated purposefully for War, it was possible to have such a lovely tree. What made it truly special is that it was something that both you and War picked out.

You went to go change into your planned festive attire and walked out to join the rest of the horsemen. Usually holidays were spent with the family, but you had a new family. At least you considered them your family. Whether they considered you family or not you have War and honestly, he’s all you needed. After joining the others, the party commenced.

“I didn’t think it was possible to for someone to wear as much red as War.”, Fury pointed out once you were in her sights.

You wore a Santa dress with red stockings, black boots, and a traditional Christmas hat. “It is Christmas. I got to look the part.”

“Looks like you’ve been in Santa’s wardrobe. Wonder what else you took from there?” Strife’s comment brought a new shade of red to your outfit.

“Whatever it was it has to be better than that revolting sweater you’re wearing brother.”, Fury commented to the strangely dressed gunslinger.

“Hey, it’s supposed to look bad. It is an ugly Christmas sweater.”

The sweater he wore was probably the most unique you ever had found. The base color was this bright green and had a big picture of Santa’s face on the front. Surrounding the jolly face was just about everything Christmas imaginable. There were reindeers, candy canes, snowmen and multiple colored Christmas lights that actually lit up. On the back of the sweater was the words merry Christmas in an unreadable font and on the sides of the text were two bells. Below that was a Christmas wreath with different oversized colored baubles with musical faces. It was an early gift to him from you and that was the thing he chose.

To your surprise Strife and Death weren’t fighting…as much. In secret Fury told you that she overheard Strife and Death making a temporary truce to not fight to much.

“They didn’t want to ruin the party for you, so they sucked it up and barely tolerate each other.”, Fury whispered as Strife picked out a game to play.

“Really? That’s sweet.” You peak towards Deaths direction, but quickly averted when he felt your stare. “I wonder if they’ll follow through?”

“Don’t worry if they act up, I’ll handle them.” Fury looked a bit too enthusiastic when she said that, but you were sure nothing over the top would happen. How wrong you were.

Strife came back with a game he was sure he would win, but after the game had ended it was Death who was the winner. The second Death was determined the winner Strife accused him of cheating. As soon as the insult was thrown the arguing commenced. Fury butted in as she said she would, but it just got worse. Who knew that three grown adults, Horsemen of the Apocalypse you may add, could act like such children?

You excused yourself and went to go get the food ready. Before you left you made sure to tell War that nothing got broken. Thankfully the food was all prepared. All you had to do was serve it. You brought out the designated holiday plates you received from your grandmother and started setting up the table. When you went back to the living room you saw the three horsemen sitting quietly with their angry warden looking down on them.

Dinner went more smoothly than the game did. Everyone ate so much that you had to make sure you got the food first before it was all gone. You were lucky to grab what you did because you were sure that there would be no seconds. After dinner you put on some Christmas movies and watched a couple of Christmas specials while opening presents.

You received a gift from each of the horsemen. Fury’s gift was a small blade. Specifically to be used only if you ever found yourself in the need of it. Strife returned the favor for buying him his sweater and got you one of your own. Its ugliness could almost rival his sweater. Death wasn’t sure what to get you, so he got you some different flavored hot chocolate and a new mug to go with it.

War didn’t give you your gift just yet. He wanted to wait to give it to you after everyone had left. It was clear in that moment that you weren’t the only one who wanted to know what this mysterious gift was. You decided to do the same.

It was getting late. The party came to an end and your guest had gone home. Now it was only you and War. You were about to tend to the mess in your house, but War had stopped you and asked that you sit on the couch.

“I’d like for you to receive your gift from me.” As War spoke, he pulled out a small black box with a silver bow. It was perfectly wrapped. It was so small in the palm of Wars hand. He could’ve easily crushed it, but he held it delicately.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“If anyone is deserving of a gift it is you.”

The box just about fit in the palm of your hand. It was light. Eager to know what it is you began opening once War nodded his head. The silver ribbon fell to your lap. The black box top was put aside. You saw a small silver chain and began taking it out. At the end of it was a white monogramed black marble stone. Before your hands could tremble anymore you safely placed the necklace back in its box. War kneeled in front of you at the first sob, thinking that you hated the gift.

He soon found your arms around his neck and your chest pressed to his. “Thank you.” Your sobs broke up your words. “I. Love it. Thank you. Thank you, War.”

War finally broke out of his statuesque state and put his arms around you. Another intake of air was taken when you felt his comfort and warmth. “Merry Christmas.”

You thought you’d feel nothing from the overly used jolly catchphrase, but somehow War brought the feeling and magic back into it. “Christmas isn’t over yet. You still need to open your presents.”

You went to go retrieve the presents under the tree. “Presents? As in more than one.”

“Yeah. Here’s the first one.” You placed a present with worn wrapping paper on his lap. “Remember our first Christmas? Well I got you a present. I’m sorry for not giving it to you sooner.”

War ripped open the wrapping paper and saw some earmuffs. He put them on. It seemed like a good fit from where you were standing, but you had to make sure. “How does it feel? Is it too tight or too loose?”

“It fits perfectly. Thank you.” You handed War the second gift. “A bag?”

“Yeah I thought you could put it on Ruins saddle, or you can use it.”

“I’ll make sure to use this.” His responses were so simple and yet it made you very happy with your choices.

“Alright for your last gift. I need you to sit here and close your eyes.” War did as you said and waited. He waited a long time and heard a lot of noise coming from the room. After a lot of struggling you peaked out the door. “Are your eyes still closed?”

“They are.”

It took a lot of confidence to walk out of the room. You walked very slowly so you wouldn’t give away the surprise. “Ok. You can open them now.”

His blue eyes were visible once more. His jaw immediately dropped once he saw your new attire. You stood there with your hands held close to your chest. War eyed you from top to bottom. First to be seen was the red ribbon that wrapped around your chest. At the end of the ribbon was red laced underwear with two bells on each side and covering your legs were black stockings.

War began staring holes into you. It was beginning to be too much. “Well what do you think?”

After slapping some sense into his mind, War looked you in the eye. “Is this my gift?”

“Yeah. I thought that maybe you would like this?” Your face went bright red once you heard the bells jingle from all the fidgeting.

War straightened himself to his full height when he stood in front of you. He firmly held the ribbons tail. “May I unwrap my gift now?”

It was even colder now that the ribbon was gone, but the heat that rose out of you fixed that. The bells jingled again as you were gently lifted. With your legs wrapped around him the two of you went to your room where the rest of your Christmas night would be spent.

#Christmas #War #War/Reader #Holidays #Fury #Strife #Death #Merry Christmas

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alloveroliver · 5 years

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Oliver X MC "The Punishment Game."

Rating: Smut 18+

Kinktober: October 1st, Masks | Formal Wear

A|N: Oliver Knight, masks, blindfold, spanking arms restrained, lots of teasing :3

WC: 3400+

Ikemen Revolution Fanfic

The music in the ballroom jumped with every pulse of her heart. Alice’s feet protested the high heeled pumps she wore that match her formal gown. People nodded her way as she excused herself through the flashing crowd to find rest at one of the empty tables away from the dance floor.

Her parched tongue felt like cotton from all the exertion she'd done with her friends, making yet another glass of champagne look absolutely delicious. She swiped the glass off the masked butler's tray and held the sweating flute in her hand. Moisture dripped down the side, and she licked her lips before taking a sip.

The crisp elixir sated her taste buds and soothed her parched tongue for the moment. Alice sat the drink on the white table cloth and took a seat in the wooden chair. The crowd looked like strangers, all wearing identity covering masks that were designed to match their costumes.

Alice reached up at touched hers. The jade feathers sticking out of the side stood tall, around and emerald encrusted base. With gold flecks and intricate designs, she knew only one person it could be from.

Her invitation to the ball came taped to a large box filled with a costume and mask. There was no indication who it was from or why it was given to her specifically, but, here she was. She wore that very outfit to the ball and waited for someone, anyone, to fess up to who it may have been from.

As the hours ticked by, she wondered if the culprit would ever show their face, so to speak. The beat boomed over the speakers, and the party raged on well past midnight. The townspeople mixed with the red and black officers raged on in the central quarter.

Alice only met a couple of people she knew at the party as they freely introduced themselves. It was difficult to tell most of the women apart since they wore fancy wigs and extravagantly dressed, unlike their daily wear.

Alice took another swig of her champagne and ended up downing the whole glass. After sitting for a moment, her tipsy buzz faded just long enough for her to realize she needed something that would actually rehydrate her.

She smoothed down a piece of her hair that fell out of her curly updo and stood to her aching feet again. Remembering there were water fountains near the restrooms, she began making her way down the long hall away from the party toward them. Feathers atop her head bounced with each stride.

As the music faded, it became easy for her to hear her own thoughts again. The sound of her heels tapping the marble floors began to ring clear. Holding her feathers up out of the way, she leaned down to take a gulp of crisp cold water that sprang up from the fountain. She pushed the button for a long time, taking deep gulps of the clear liquid until her stomach was satisfied.

"There you are, darling." A deep voice echoed off the hallway walls.

Alice turned her head, wiping away stray droplets that clung to her lips with her fingertips.

"Um, hello?" She looked the tall figure up and down.

The man wore an all-black tux with a black bowtie and a solid black mask. His hair looked black in the dim hallway making his pale skin the central aspect of him to stick out. Handsome was the first word that came to her mind.

The tux was obviously customized to his person, coming in at his sides showing off his lean physique with a play on angles. He took a step closer, his matte black shoes tapping on the floor. She wondered why she hadn't heard them following behind her before, then again maybe she did and was too preoccupied with her thirst that she didn't hear it.

As she moved closer, his pink lips stood out more. They were plump and cured up into a smile the longer she stared. “You look good in my gift. However, I already knew you would.”

"Who are you?" She asked timidly, feeling slightly bad she couldn't recognize the man before her.

"You can't tell?" His lips quirked up even more as if that was his plan all along.

A disguise seemed to be precisely what he was going for. Who was it that Alice knew that called her darling? Alice wracked her tipsy brain and found nothing.

"I'm sorry, please forgive me. But no, I cannot." She used candor and cursed the last few glasses of champagne. If she hadn’t had that last drink maybe she would have figured it out by now. She wasn’t too hard on herself though, the man clearly didn't want to be easily recognized by anyone.

He stepped even closer, and the scent of his cologne permeated her nose. She noticed the black button-down shirt under the black vest he wore. The patterns of the black fabrics were slightly different, matching raised diagonals and horizontal lines instead of matching colors.

"This isn't the first time," He tisked, frowning as if he were tasting something sour.

Alice knew that sound. She placed her pointing finger to her chin and searched her memory again for where she'd heard it before. A giggle bubbled out from her lips instead of an idea. She shook her head to push the fog away.

"Are you going to tell me who you are?" Alice asked as the man grew closer. He kept a comfortable distance between them and leaned his shoulder against the wall. His relaxed pose sent her another clue.

"I will give you three guesses," He crossed his arms.

The way he held his hand on his elbow, holding his arm with the other she knew immediately who he was. She'd seen the man she was dating in the same pose hundreds of times in the past several weeks. The scent of his cologne, though mixed with a more bodied fragrance for his formal attire, still hinted at the same man.

She smiled flirtatiously and crossed her own arms to mimic him. She knew immediately who this was.

"And what if I lose?" She cocked a brow despite her features being hidden by the mask.

"Then we will have to play a punishment game." Deep vocals echoed off the empty halls reminding her how very alone they were.

She listened carefully to his voice through her tipsy haze, past the loud thumping music, and focused on the way he spoke. There was no doubt in her mind that this was Oliver.

"I'd like to know what the game entails."

"How about you guess first, then I'll tell you the rules." He pushed off the wall with his shoulder and walked around her. From behind, he leaned in close to her ear and added. "What do you say?"

"Deal."

The man laughed at her quick response. He stood up straight and tugged his vest to smooth out any creases.

"Okay, Guess number 1"

"Lancelot," Alice answered in a flash. She smiled, hoping not to end the rouse with the obvious fail.

"I am clearly not Lancelot you airhead. Lancelot is blond."

"Oh," She feigned a pout. "Wishful thinking." She smirked, then dashed off into one of the empty rooms in the hall.

"Get over here," Oliver snapped, reaching for her hips but missing her entirely.

The room was filled with stacks of chairs and folded up tables. The windows were uncovered, leaving the moon to light the ample storage space.

The man in black caught her from behind and picked her up. Spinning her around, he sat her on the end of a granite countertop and parted her knees. The dress skirt moved up with her legs, and he was easily able to fit his hips between her thighs. The countertop seemed to be part of a permanent bar they had for events that took place in this very room. The custom height was perfect for their bodies to fit together nicely.

"Guess number 2,"

His eyes were glowing with the moon, making them look like an impenetrable fog. Oliver was outlined with a silvery haze, complimenting his deep black attire.

"Um," She looked him over thoughtfully, checking him out thoroughly. She placed her hand on her chin to further her teasing ruse. "Sirius?"

Oliver tisked again, catching her hands in his grip. He pinned them up above her head with one hand and guided her to lay back with the other.

"Seems like you want to be punished, little girl." Oliver let his voice drop near her ear.

Alice's heart raced with every syllable of the word 'punished.' Playfully, she jerked against his grip and smiled up at him.

Their masks would get in the way if they wished to be any closer.

"You never said who I was." She forced herself to breathe slowly.

He smirked and used his free hand to push her mask up. As he revealed her face, his features relaxed and softened. "Alice. The Alice. My Alice." He bit out her name each time before revealing her flushed face. The air in the room hit her warm cheeks, making her feel oddly exposed.

"Your Alice?" She taunted despite her visibly disadvantaged position. She and Oliver had dated, but he never officially asked her to become his. It was something she'd hoped for, but he had yet to ask outright.

He didn't respond. As if he was worried for a moment that he'd said something wrong. He kissed the side of her neck, gently grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin. Raised fleshed pebbled down her arm and she sighed into the sensation.

"One more guess, then I will explain to you how a punishment game works." He considered collarbone before kissing the dip.

"Dark hair, gray eyes, pale skin, tall, handsome... with an attitude." She listed off his traits. "It could only be one person I know."

Oliver lifted his eyes to hers. His pupils dilated, and his lips parted. He waited with bated breath for her to finish.

"Yes? Well, spit it out."

"You're…. You're Harr."

In a flash, Oliver undid the black scarf that hung from his waist and quickly tied her wrists together. His brows pinched, and he was mumbling something inaudible between pursed lips.

His teeth were grit as he spat out his words. "Rule number 1, you must remain quiet, so we don't get found out" He tightened the scarf and neatly tied it to the faucet.

"Rule number 2, You will beg me for each punishment."

As he began listing off the rules in a frustrated state, Alice couldn't help but smile. He had to know she was teasing him, yet it felt so good to watch him squirm.

Oliver pulled her masked back down, but not entirely so that her vision as blocked. The soft fabric worked wonders as a blindfold, keeping her entirely in the dark.

Alice squirmed against the restraints but froze when she felt his breath tickling her cheek. She sensed he was just above her lips. In a moment of bravery, Alice pressed her face forward until her mouth melted against his.

Oliver nibbled her bottom lip and kissed her back fervently. The heat in his kiss lit her body on fire. He poured all his emotions into that kiss, frustration and lust, leaving her breathless when they finally parted.

"Let me touch you." He spoke as more of a request than a demand.

"I thought I was already yours,"

Oliver didn't speak for a long moment. "That doesn't answer my question."

"You didn't ask one."

"Will you let me touch you?" He rephrased his statement, punctuating every word with a slight pause.

"You can if you like."

"I would like to very much." His voice trailed off as he moved away. She could hear movement from where he stood but was unable to see what he was doing.

A hand began to travel up her ankle, moving her formal dress up her leg. Once at her knee, Oliver flipped the bottom of the dress up and revealed her panties.

"Oh, these are cute," Oliver slipped his finger between her thighs, hooking around the center part of the fabric. His knucle brushed her heated sex. "Very cute." He pulled and yanked the panties down to her ankles. "But they look even cuter on the floor." Alice closed her legs as the blush on her cheeks spread to the tips of her ears. "I know you can't see them for yourself, but take my word for it."

He placed both of his large hands on her knees and pulled them apart. His breathing hitched as he seemed to take in the sight before him. Her elbows were slightly bent, hands clasped together while the scarf held her in place.

Alice bit her lip and turned her head away. Her vision was blocked, but she felt exposed for the second time tonight, making her stomach flip.

Oliver kneeled before her and pressed his lips to her inner knee. Another kiss met her thigh while his fingers dug into her skin, holding her legs apart.

"Now, ask me nicely to bite you." Despite his murmuring against her skin, he still sounded as demanding as ever.

"I- what?"

"You must ask me to bite you, darling. I won't repeat myself again."

"But…" She fidgeted her legs in his grasp.

"Either I bite you here, or I flip you over, and you can beg me to spank you. How's that?"

Under the mask, Alice's eyes went wide. Her hands gripped together as she processed his words. Oliver's lips hovered over her thigh, kissing tenderly while he waited.

"I think…" She began, chewing her bottom lip.

"Yes?" His breath wafted over her thighs.

"I… I want you to spank me."

Oliver stood in one fluid motion and pulled her hips off the counter. He twisted her to face the granite surface and kicked her legs apart. The dress fell back down, but he pushed it up and bunched it at her waist.

His hand gripped her ass and massaged her muscles. Alice buried her face in the crook of her arm and took in a deep breath.

"Please-"

"This is hot..." Oliver whispered. "Please, what?" He spoke in a louder, more commanding tone.

"Mmm," She squirmed at his touch. "Please spank me."

It was the pop she heard first before the sting on her skin sizzled. She yelped then pressed her lips together to halt anymore sound. The sensation went right to her core, igniting her lust like a wildfire. The heat spread down her legs, and her knees went weak. Alice was glad to have the counter there holding her up, so she didn't waver under his punishment.

"Again… Please." She whispered, her voice echoing off the countertop.

Oliver's hand came down on the other side, sending more heat through her body. The tips of her toes tingled, and Alice let out a sigh. However, the sound was laced with more than she bargained for, making Oliver's ears perk up.

"Are you really moaning at this?" He tisked in a teasing manner and ran his hand along her core.

The pad of his finger slid easily along her slick center. He paused at the apex of her sex, pushing softly on her delicate clit.

"Tell me, do you think that was enough punishment?"

"Do you?" She snapped back with an equal attitude. "It's your punishment, after all."

Oliver pressed his finger down hard on her bundle of nerves and listened to her hiss in ecstasy. Her thighs quivered once he set a slow and agonizing speed circling the helpless nub. He added heaps of pressure, making her legs jerk each time he hit a strong nerve.

"I think you should remain tied up, as further punishment."

His finger dipped slowly into her hole, and Alice clinched her walls against the digit. He twisted the finger around to press against the soft patch just inside.

"Oh… my god." Alice moaned, breath now fogging the counter with each pant. "Faster"

"You are in no position to demand pleasure from me." His voice dropped in a dominating fashion.

"Please?" She tried to beg, but the loss of sensation followed her helpless plead.

Suddenly, his lips were hovering over her ear. His body was encasing hers from behind, and his hand gripped the back of her hair.

"No." He breathed the word out like a puff of smoke.

Alice gulped, waiting for his lips to meet her skin. The electricity between the small distance from his mouth to her neck was palpable. She squirmed in his iron grip until he made a move.

"Let me fuck you." He whispered again, assuredly letting his nerves dissipate before he asked this time.

"Is that a question…" Her voice wavered with the weight of excitement and anticipation. Her stomach filled with butterflies and twisted with knots.

"It is."

She gulped, wishing she could see his face at this moment. The mask still covered her eyes, and her hands were still tied above her head. Alice was unable to touch him to map out his features with her fingers. Nor was she able to see his expressions and memorize every nuance each one had.

"Yes…" She pressed her backside against his hips while his lips met her neck in a flurry of small kisses. His lips moved in a pattern, tickling the skin beneath her ear. "Don't keep me waiting" She smirked, and Oliver let out a mild chuckle.

His hand left her body while he whispered into her ear. "Where did you get all this attitude from?" His jest was punctuated with a nip to the shell of her ear.

Alice's heart pounded against the counter top's surface, hearing him shift his slacks behind her.

"You."

"Ah," He nuzzled the side of her neck. "Good excuse, but I don’t buy it."

Without much warning, he pressed his full length within her. His breath left his lungs in one huff while his hand moved along the roundness of her ass.

"Oh, fuck." Alice mewled. Her cunt trembled against the sudden stretching.

He took another breath and moved his hips incrementally. In the dark, her senses began to heighten. Every touch of his fingertips trailing along her skin sent a spark through her nerves.

He stayed as close as he could to her as if he couldn't bear to be apart for long. His hands moved to brush her hair to one side to allow his lips to travel over more surface area. Every thrust was slow as he buried himself as deep as possible.

Alice's breath picked up despite his slow tempo. Her pussy quivered with each deep movement that she thought she could see stars behind the mask.

"I'm close." She moaned after minutes of his slow torture while pulling on the ties that bound her hands. "I can't hold back." Her back arched while her walls clenched tight to him.

"Rule number 3," His breathless huff gave away how much pleasure he was experiencing. "You have to say my name when you cum." His tone was laced with a smugness that Alice knew all too well.

She let out a breathless laugh and felt him speed up. His hands grabbed her hips, pulling her back into the speed with him.

Her core ached with every second she held back her release. She knew the game was over when toes curled and eyes scrunched closed. A warmth washed over her body, making her mouth drop open and her thighs sake.

"Fuck!" She groaned, trying to grasp at something with her tied hands. "Fuck, Ol-iver" She moaned loudly into the room, letting her voice echo off the under decorated walls. "Oliver! D-Don't… stop." She pleaded. “Please don’t stop”

He didn't stop. He went faster as if to reward her for following his rules. It prolonged her release, allowing wave after wave of trembling pleasure to wash over her being.

Soon her muscles went slack, and Oliver reached over her to untie the scarf from her wrists. Twisting her around, he panted while gently kissing her wrists. Her dress fell back down to her ankles as she stood to her feet.

He removed the mask from her eyes, and he let her do the same from him. They tossed their masks to the floor, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Their lips came together in kind. Oliver bestowed a heated, dizzying kiss to Alice's lips while he held her close against his chest. The party felt like a million miles away by now. All that was left was just the two of them alone in the universe.

Oof, starting with my bae. XD

#alloverkinktober #ikemen revolution #oliver knight #oliver x mc #ikerev #ikerev smut #smut #oliver knight smut #ikemen revolution smut #oliver x mc smut #kinktober #masks

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221brownstone · 5 years

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Vulture: Elementary’s Joan Watson Is the Best-Dressed Detective on TV

In the seventh and final season of Elementary, Joan Watson is blonde. The character’s style has constantly evolved alongside her detective career and partnership with Sherlock Holmes (Jonny Lee Miller), but in all her years on the show, there has been very little change to Lucy Liu’s locks. With just 13 episodes left, though, Joan has drastically altered her hair, which in turn means one last style shake-up for the best-dressed detective on TV.

Credit for that goes to costume designer Rebecca Hofherr, who has worked on the CBS procedural since its second episode in 2012, and who has guided Joan’s transformation from predominantly casual-leaning clothing to more structured menswear-inspired pieces. Hofherr spoke to Vulture about the narrative and fashion influences behind Joan’s costume evolution, including how they put their own stamp on an iconic duo and the sartorial challenges of shooting a 20-plus-episode season in New York City.

Joan’s styling was much more relaxed in the first year of Elementary. As his sober companion, her relationship with Sherlock was initially a professional commitment. She was not yet a detective and she was very much in the background of the investigation scenes. “Her clothing was very casual because that’s what the job called for,” Hofherr says. As Joan got more versed in the crime-solving world, her role shifted from sober companion to Sherlock’s protégée. By the second season, her costuming moved toward a slightly more sophisticated and buttoned-up approach. “As cheesy as it might sound, you need to put on a little more armor when dealing with the NYPD and all these criminals,” says Hofherr.

Joan’s wardrobe isn’t an either/or between suits and dresses, or even casual and business attire. She didn’t become a detective and suddenly stop wearing comfortable clothing. The suits reflect a change in Joan’s status and independence as an investigator, but dresses and sandals are still a vital style ingredient. During one Hofherr’s first conversations with Liu, they agreed Joan should “feel like a real New Yorker.” Expanding on this, Hofherr included staple items such as blazers or sandals, which most women have in their closets to dress an outfit up or down. “It was really nice to be able to incorporate them into a professional world for Joan,” she says.

Discovering the true cost of a TV character’s wardrobe is an eye-opening experience. Joan’s closet is definitely packed with high-end items — Hofherr’s go-to favored designers for Joan include Victoria Beckham, Saint Laurent, Isabel Marant, and Stella McCartney, with Rag & Bone as her signature bootee choice — but to ensure her clothing reflected that New Yorker aspect, Hofherr also shopped at Zara and H&M. “It was really important to do a mix,” she says. “I think that’s pretty much how everyone shops. I don’t think it’s realistic to only shop at high-end stores.”

Noticeable costume repeats tend to be outerwear, but Hofherr also uses staple investment pieces such as high-waisted black pencil Victoria Beckham pants. (Dressing them with an inexpensive top, she adds, is “a great way to get a lot of outfits out of a really expensive pair of pants.”) There is an aspirational element to Joan’s garments, but the high-low mixing reflects how a lot of people shop. Hofherr also notes with a laugh that “pretty much everything Lucy wore from Zara, I also own. I was like, Oh, I can afford that.”

The one item that has appeared in all seven seasons? Joan’s red men’s Elder Statesman “house sweater.” Most people have a cozy garment that they only wear in the comfort of their own home, Hofherr explains, and Joan is no different. Sherlock and Joan’s brownstone home doubles as their office, but she wouldn’t be wearing suits at all hours of the day and night while solving a case. As Liu has worn this sweater so many times on the show, Hofherr says that not only has it molded to her body but it also has the pulls of a well-loved garment. It is also a color Joan doesn’t typically wear, which visually makes it a “nice change.”

Joan doesn’t eschew color, but a black-and-white motif runs through the first season to the last. Regardless of whether it is a suit, skirt, or a more casual outfit, sticking with the same color tone allows for experimentation with pattern. In the above outfit from season four’s “The Games Underfoot,” she wears a Saint Laurent polka-dotted tie with a checkered J.O.A. skirt and polka-dotted Ji Oh blouse. Sometimes the costume choice reflects Joan’s career, but on occasions like this one, it shows that Joan has a “fashionable side” too. “She can throw these things together and look really cute,” Hofherr says.

Two big style turning points emphasize Joan’s drive for equal footing with Sherlock as a detective. First came the ties, introduced at the end of season three. Suits followed, making their initial sartorial stamp in season five. The message is clear: Long gone are the days when Joan was Sherlock’s student. As with a lot of Joan’s costuming, she doesn’t stick to one specific suit-and-tie combo. In fact, the Marc Jacobs shirt above (which Hofherr got from one of her go-to sites, Shopbop) is a bit of an optical illusion, as it doesn’t even include a tie. Vests were thrown into the mix after Hofherr made the decision to stick with suits. It is also a nod to her relationship with Sherlock: Up to this point, Hofherr points out, vests have been Sherlock’s thing, so this costume mirroring is “a little nod to her respecting him so much.”

“I went to all ends of the Earth!” Hofherr laughs when talking about the many ties Joan has worn on Elementary. Men’s offerings were out of the question for someone of Liu’s stature, as they are just too wide and long. She snapped up everything Saint Laurent and Gucci had on offer, but she also shopped at uniform companies, bought a few kids’ ties, and even made them in-house. Maybe a Joan Watson tie line should be next? “If all these designers are going to sell women’s suits, I would love for them to start making women’s ties,” Hofherr suggests.

Another later costume addition was the Victorian-style Isabel Marant blouse. In part, this outfit was a hat tip to the original Holmes and Watson, but it also added another variation on the suit theme. One of the biggest challenges when doing a show with a full 20-plus-episode order is obtaining enough clothing, particularly for a fashion-forward character like Joan. Hofherr says that she needs 50 outfits a month — on average, Joan has five changes per episode — and costuming was made trickier because designers don’t typically replenish their collections between seasons. “We end up making a lot of clothes based on designs we love and change a few things because I can’t find 20 Victorian-style blouses or 20 men’s-style blouses,” Hofherr laments. “I can find five, but then that’s it for four months.”

Fashion seasons are not the only Elementary costume challenge, as shooting outside in New York City from July to May means having to find clothing that fits all weather cycles. (The 13-episode final season was a bit easier, though, because they only shot until December.) Sherlock sticks to the same styles — “This guy would buy 20 of the same shirts, the same sport coat, and the same pants,” Hofherr says — and he has also worn the same Tom Ford winter peacoat for seven years. On the flip side, Joan has many changes, but she isn’t going to have a different coat for each outfit, as that is neither practical or realistic for either the character or the designer. Hofherr’s preference was to have between five and ten on hand: “If we got the coats fitted and ready to go we could just recycle them episode after episode.” Outerwear is something that is repeated across various seasons — including the Alice + Olivia coat above — but accessories like hats, gloves, and scarves are switched out to keep things fresh.

Sometimes the weather also dictates the type of hat required: “I originally got that hat because we were shooting outside one day in the rain and they didn’t want to have umbrellas,” Hofherr says. The wider brim of this Barneys-brand men’s hat has since been worn on a number of occasions, as has the tie-waist Marissa Webb windowpane check coat (which will reappear in the final season).

Of course, the story also dictates what Hofherr chooses for Joan. At the end of season six, creator Rob Doherty didn’t know if they were going to get renewed, so they shot two different endings. This particular Diane von Furstenberg dress fit both the ending we saw and the alternative they filmed — though Hofherr couldn’t provide any other details without spoiling the end of season seven as well. “I wanted it to be timeless, as I didn’t know if it was the last time we were ever going to see Joan Watson,” she says. “It was a little bit of an ode to all the Joans we have seen throughout the seasons. I felt a suit would have been a different look for that final scene.” No surprise, then, that it is also one of Hofherr’s costume highlights.

Hofherr couldn’t pick a single favorite outfit, but this one she considers to be the most significant. At the end of season three, Sherlock has almost killed a man and relapsed, but Joan’s loyalty doesn’t waver. “This is where we start to see the Joan that we will forever know,” says Hofherr. “And I think this is the best version of Joan too.” The pink skirt is by Roland Mouret and the shirt is Uniqlo, which is another high-low outfit mix. It also happens to be the first time Joan wears a tie, which is a huge style turning point.

Hofherr also spoke in depth about working with Liu, not only as an actress but in her role as a director. (She has stepped behind the camera six times on Elementary.) Referring to Liu as “one of the most inspirational women I’ve had in my life” — she also did the costume design on the Liu-starring Netflix rom-com Set It Up — she says Liu is “willing to take risks, but she knows exactly when to take them.”

Which brings us back to the blonde mystery. Hofherr had already FaceTimed with Liu sporting her new hair color, but the styling was a task of its own. “She walked in for her first fitting of the final season and I didn’t recognize her,” said Hofherr laughing. They did plan fewer outfits than previous seasons’ fittings, she adds, “because we were figuring out what works with the blonde hair and what doesn’t.” Don’t worry: There are still plenty of outfits to come, particularly in the last two episodes. (Hofherr teased that Joan will have ten-plus changes.)

The signature black-and-white motif remains, including these fabulous Stella McCartney palazzo pants. “I always know it’s a really good outfit when all the crew members ask me what it is,” Hofherr says. That is the exact reaction Liu got when she stepped on set in this particular costume.

#joan watson #lucy liu #rebecca hofherr #elementary #elementasquee #behind the scenes #who dresses you girl #i think what you do is amazing #read more

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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years

Text

.Hack//Gilfection Pt 3 (Gilgamesh, Hakuno, Rin, BB)

.//Chapters//. – 1 – 2 –

___

Rin was a pain in the ass.

This was the area she had decided on. She wasn’t new to the game, or so she said.

It was a little difficult to believe that she wasn’t a new player with the way she was carrying her character. No grip control. No mindfulness for that large broadsword of hers. She pulled it along behind her like a boat anchor that had been forgotten. When she went to hold it over her shoulder, which she did when they reached the doors to the place, she awkwardly shuffled and tried holding her blade one handed over her shoulder.

That didn’t work, as her dropping of the weapon gave away.

He probably could look at her stats, but it was easy enough to guess what level she was.

And Enkidu had thought that I was hopeless.

The music alone was solemn. The floors were dusted, coated with a texture layer to show that the place had been all but abandoned. Even the air, although clear, held a slight series of flakes, tiny pixels that worked like dust particles in the air.

They moved forward, through the rows of pews.

Only one thing was really worth seeing in this place. There were no rooms to go to, no other areas to visit. The whole immaculate building held but one space, one that was filled with only a singular point of interest: a statue.

Gilgamesh frowned, knowing that figure.

“Take this.”

The girl from before, adorned in white, had looked exactly like this.

The only difference was that she hadn’t been covered in chains. The torn dress on the woman’s body was plastered against herself too, doing nothing to help with the sight of her being trapped beneath metal chain links and locks.

“…There’s no one else here.”

Rin frowned, stepping to the side of the room and looking around. “There’s no one here at all…”

There wasn’t.

Gilgamesh turned his gaze to the altar.

The epitaph… Nanna… Ishtar… Ereshkigal…

The writing was faded from there.

“AH!”

Rin’s shout caught his attention, sending him spinning on his heels, his blades coming to hand and slamming into the beast that had appeared. The small gremlin was easily destroyed, falling back with a small roar.

“…You… You didn’t even flinch…”

“Should I?” Gilgamesh put his blades away. “It’s just a regular weak monster.”

“Yeah… Yeah. Weak. Right…” Her eyes drifted to the statue. “The statue looks so sad…”

What a fool.

He turned his gaze back to the statue for inspecting.

It didn’t take long now.

Rin moved to his side, her hands going to the fencing between the statue and the rest of the room. Her gaze turned downwards, her body trembling a bit.

“I guess… you’ve probably figured out that I’m a noob too, haven’t you?”

Gods, what a child.

Why was he here again? The statue was interesting, possibly enough to give him a clue where to go to find Enkidu’s avatar in this game, but…

“My um… My boyfriend played this game a lot.” Her voice lowered, like she was confessing some secret. “The idiot always got on before bed and would fish in the stream. He let me play once or twice with him, but we didn’t really go to areas. We just fished. He liked the Mac Anu area for that kind of thing.”

“Uh huh.”

“He invited me again, this time, to go to an area. He’d cleared it out and it had this great big moon in the background. I thought maybe… maybe this time he had another reason for inviting me, but the world changed.”

“Things went to a coding area with no scenic view?”

“No, it was a place that had these running numbers and there was this almost lava like place, but the lava didn’t look right.”

He’d just said that-

“Cu managed to smack my PC, totally destroying it. I was so mad and I was yelling at him for ruining the computer that he forced me to take such careful attention to, but…”

“He didn’t wake up.”

Rin looked at her hands, shaking her head. “He lay there so quietly, Gilgamesh. I’ve never had him be that quiet before.”

She’d be useful.

The next area they could go to was that area that the woman had mentioned. Wherever this moonlight area was, he wanted to go straight there next.

“Cu mentioned this code when he had the goggles on. I thought-“

“Let’s head back.”

The heart to heart wasn’t necessarily something he was interested in, but it had given him an insight into the fact that others could have suffered this. There could have been others. He would have to check the forum board when he got out of this area and checked the other.

Rin nodded, “You’re nicer than I thought.”

“Sure.” They could go with that.

He still needed her to work with him. No point in opening his mouth and pointing out the many flaws in her method of thinking, beginning with and not limited to simply trusting any character that came crawling-

BAM!

The doors flew open at the entrance.

A figure, adorned in silver and white armor, held her blade in hand. Her brown hair was loose, flowing over the feathered paldrons on her shoulders and her red accents to her attire showing just beneath her cloak.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“We could say the same to you!” Rin shouted. “YOU’RE BEING RUD-“

“THERE’S NO TIME! GET OUT OF HERE!”

What did she-

The world was glitching, the area beginning to fade a moment before something dropped down.

“Shit!”

Rin leaped behind him, her blade held in both hands. Gilgamesh found himself pulling out his twin blades, but the other was already running forth.

She flew like a great bird, slashing down upon the golem. Her blade cut cleanly, her eyes filled with a deep, defiant look that made his damn heart flutter. He could hardly breathe as he watched the woman spin on her feet, taking that weapon that had just slashed at the golem and sending it slamming into the golem’s gullet.

In and out, a perfect stab.

The world glitched again, a strange green armor coming onto the golem.

“What’s happening?! What the fuck is that!?”

“…Shit, another glitch. These computer viruses have been making these bastards have unlimited defense. It’s basically invincible,” the stranger woman growled.

“…This must be what got him,” Rin breathed. “Get out of the way, I’ll kill it!”

“You idiot!”

She was already sprinting forward though, her broadsword in hand as she rushed at the giant golem. There was no stopping the idiot. She was going to end up getting her character killed!

“Damn it!” The armored woman rushed after the woman, slamming her body against the other. The golem slammed a fist towards the two, nearly smashing them to bits.

The book.

Gilgamesh paused.

Open the book.

Book?

The power it holds can bring forth either salvation or destruction at the whim of the user.

[You used the installation Book, Book of Twilight.]

The controllers were shaking in his hands. The nerve sensors were burning, hurting his hands. He could see a flashing in the background, the world around his character vanishing away and a white base background appearing.

The attire his character had was changing.

Gone was the random red clothing. Symbols were growing up the sides, a deep red set as the color of the fabric turned to gold. He could see the gloves he had, glowing with the same color as the computer virus around the golem.

The color focused, forming a ring around his arm. It blasted a focused ray of light, a series of numbers shooting forward until-

It struck right as the beast went to kill the two nearby.

The golem hit the floor, giving the perfect opportunity.

His armored, feathered knight struck forth, her wings fluttering in the air as she stabbed the beast to die. The final roar rang out again, but this time, the glitches were gone.

As Gilgamesh felt his hands shaking, his body covered in sweat, he felt his character fall to his knees. The figure ahead rose up, her blade slowly being pulled forth from the beast.

“I see…”

See?

“You’re the same… the same as that virus. To think I’d be saved by someone like you.”

“Someone like me? Woman, I should be asking you about that knowledge of the beasts and computer viruses.”

“Recently, there’s been a lot of places damaged by viruses. It’s ruining the game, damaging people’s lives, creating a world that cannot continue. Anyone with that virus… your virus, should be struck down immediately.”

Well, that was a shame, he was looking for the cause of the trouble here too.

“Draw your sword!”

“Draw? Bullshit, woman. There’s no use in that.”

“There is for me.”

The woman was preparing to rush forward when Rin stood up. Her heel slammed against the stranger’s hip.

“YOU! What the hell did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.”

“Well?!”

“…Hakuno. My name is Hakuno.”

“Put your damn weapon away, Hakuno! Gilgamesh just saved your life and the first thing you do is threaten to kill him?”

“Woman, do you understand what kind of cancerous-“

Rin kicked her again.

“He. Saved. Your. Life!”

“…I still don’t trust you.” Hakuno set her blade back into her sheath, her eyes glaring daggers. “…You did save my life…”

“I did.”

What was her character address in this game?

That’s who he needed on his party. She had to be either an extremely attractive woman or extremely boring.

“I need time to think. That’s why I’m sparing you. If I find out that you are indeed responsible, then I will be killing you.”

She needed to give him her information immediately.

Home address. Phone number.

Body in his bed.

“What an asshole,” Rin shook her head, sighing. “I’m logging out for today. I need to visit my boyfriend in the hospital.”

She logged out, her character vanishing from his side.

He took a deep breath, debating on how to proceed.

“That was rather childish of you, knight of the Moon Cell, descendant of the ancient mages of Fuyuki.”

Hakuno paused, glancing over her shoulder at the woman that was standing atop the cathedral. It was impossible to mistake that voice, that purple hair.

“I do not speak to hackers.”

She tried to continue forward, knowing that the woman wouldn’t let him off that easily.

Sure enough, the fool was warping, moving to another of the spindles. BB’s long black coat fluttered softly in the wind as she giggled away with her wand in hand.

“That guy, he’s a friend of your partner’s.”

That, of all things, made her pause.

“Enkidu?”

#drabble #drabbles

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