#i ALWAYS say its not the job of a psychic to change things or stop things its simply ones job to see | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tobeornottotc · 4 years ago

Text

ADACHI AND KUROSAWA- THE MEANING OF TOUCH

First thing first: Touch can be physical (come into contact with something), internal (emotional, feeling touched, concerned sympathy and gratitude) or mental/psychic (an effect on something: talent, skill or presence). In the dictionary, there are so many meanings for touch, but this show focused on this three.

Episode 7 was all about touch, touch and even more TOUCH. In a show where the premise is on the magical abilities of touch being used to help and ease the lives of people including our main character, we come to see in this episode just how much touch is needed even in his new blossoming relationship with Kurosawa. How these two discover how much they need the other's touch is so incredible, and I love it so much. So here's my breakdown for it :) Here are instances this episode where touch happened and what it meant for these two cuties.

The confession with the touch:

Kurosawa has just confessed, and he's about to lean forward and touch Adachi's cheek a sign of affection; Kurosawa feels rejected and a burden to Adachi. Adachi flinches because of anxiety in his head: The touch was to show sincerity and love, but at this time, they both are too scared.

Adachi and his anxiety

Again it wasn't that Adachi didn't want Kurosawa's touch but the opposite; he was frightened because of too many thoughts in his head, his heart was racing, and his whole mind was shutting down at that moment. Kurosawa wanted something with him. He realised what was happening and then, was shocked when Kurosawa's hand fell from his cheek. Adachi knows he has to stop him from leaving, but he's frozen, still unsure that he's right for Kurosawa, still uncertain about what to say, how to phrase how he feels, still unsure of everything in his head. So he lets him leave, Kurosawa takes that as acceptance, he thinks Adachi is straight and likes girls so of course, he's not into him, it breaks his heart immensely, but he decides to stay polite and return back to them being colleagues. Machida is such a great actor, you can physically see and feel when Kurosawa feels deflated and defeated, after seven years he must say goodbye to a love that meant everything, he took a risk, but he lost everything but most importantly Adachi's touch.

The touch at this moment was not fulfilled, it was hindered and stopped by Kurosawa because both were scared: this touch meant for both of them the truth, crossing the line and risking it all to be with each other, but because Kurosawa stopped it left both of them dissatisfied and heartbroken.

Kurosawa's reason for liking Adachi

Kurosawa felt objectified, used by people who didn't really understand or know the real him. People were only viewing him on the surface, from the outside. It should feel great, but he didn't like it, he hated being objectified and not actually being noticed. But Adachi was different. Adachi noticed him; he gave him reasons why he thought he was cool why he thought he was great because, in Adachi's mind, Kurosawa is much better and awesome than him. Adachi also felt touched by Kurosawa's gesture from their first meeting, when he took the wine glass and drank for him despite not being strong enough to do so. That's why he followed him and comforted him; it's one of the automatic things with Adachi and Kurosawa, Adachi hates seeing Kurosawa hurt, so he followed him to ensure he was okay. In doing so, he also touched his heart without knowing and changed everything for Kurosawa.

Kurosawa's touch to Adachi 7 years ago: made him feel cared for, protected and happy.

Adachi's touch to Kurosawa 7 years ago: made him feel noticed, understood and appreciated.

They did this all by being near each other, but also Kurosawa decided to repay Adachi because of this hence why he never thinks a bad thought about him, he also wants Adachi to feel noticed for his efforts (therefore his thoughts and the way he protected Adachi in episode 1/2 when it came to work) he wanted Adachi to feel understood by people. He wanted people to give Adachi proper appreciation. Adachi did the same without knowing; he wanted to ensure Kurosawa felt the same way he made him feel, hence he hates him being upset at him, he hates when he's in trouble with people/work, and he hates when he feels his feelings don't matter. They both again keep trying to repay the other for how they made each other feel at their first meeting. It was a perfect match, and it started from touch.

Adachi and Kurosawa: the need to please people

It's such a meta thing that Kurosawa and Adachi met each other because of an event where both were forced to come to be objectified by one of the heads. It's interesting because the reason that keeps preventing Adachi and Kurosawa from confessing how they feel is the perception of internalised homophobia.

Adachi is worried about how society would think; he's also concerned about not being good enough for Kurosawa in people's mind. Kurosawa is scared about the same thing; that his feelings are seen as abnormal to Adachi, that he's just burdening him with his feelings etc.

All this back and forth and running away is because of both's need to please people though they both feel uncomfortable and disappointed each time they do so. Adachi has social anxiety, so although he wants to help and be useful to people, he hates situations where there's too much pressure on him and where he has to interact with strangers; he gets anxious, worried and feels stupid each time this happens. Adachi literally can't eat because of his anxiety at the dinner it's so relatable the way he feels scared about how people perceive him.

Kurosawa tries to please people by not saying how he feels; he feels inappropriate to complain about being objectified when it's meant to be viewed as a compliment, he tries his hardest to be kind and help everyone. Still, he also feels defeated and empty by the fact that if he says no, he could ruin everyone's jobs and opinions on him. They're trying to conform to social expectations, behaviours and perceptions by not genuinely being themselves a perfect metaphor for why they both avoided confessing or ran away from admitting to the other.

They both saw through each other in that event and because of that automatically touched the other heart because of it.

Kurosawa's drunken fall

Did you notice they were two touches in this scene: One when Adachi catches Kurosawa, and the second when he puts his hand on his heart. Both can be seen literally; Adachi is saving and catching Kurosawa as he falls. Adachi is like a healing presence to him (just like the results of his magic), Adachi makes him feel safe and secure, and I find it so important to notice how Adachi does this automatically. We've watched each episode and saw Kurosawa let doubts fill his mind, about the kiss, about annoying Adachi, about being a burden but Adachi automatically runs to him and blurts out what he's thinking always erasing Kurosawa's doubt and making him feel safe to be the way he is, to like Adachi the way he has, to keep doing the things he's terrified of.

That's Adachi being his safety net without realising. Adachi wants always to make sure he's safe. It's innate in their relationship. Last Adachi is catching him when he's meant to be the one catching everyone else/ saving everyone else. Adachi is the only person who made an effort to pay attention to Kurosawa, to help Kurosawa, to also see Kurosawa just like everyone else; it was a relief to Kurosawa, it was important.

Because of this, Adachi physically, literally and metaphorically touches his heart and enters without knowing.

But the physical touch also points back to the magic that started it all for Adachi's realisation and awakening; the magic stemmed from that touch, just like in present the magic keeps helping Adachi pay attention and catch Kurosawa each time he slips, the magic was there from the start just waiting to manifest and its source was Adachi's need to show Kurosawa he was loved, listened to and looked after. That's beautiful.

Also, notice how Kurosawa and Adachi are always reading each other's minds without knowing it? We have Adachi who has the physical ability to read Kurosawa's mind, but you also have Kurosawa being able to read Adachi's mind without knowing. In this scene, Kurosawa confesses he felt useless, and he felt upset for being useless at the dinner, but Adachi was also feeling the same way, he also didn't fulfil his responsibilities at the dinner, he felt worse than Kurosawa, uncool, gloomy and a burden but hearing Kurosawa, someone he was starting to think was really impressive and cool, excellent (he showed jealousy seeing how suave Kurosawa was at the dinner), it made him feel relieved that Kurosawa was just like him, and it again increased his confidence to want to tell Kurosawa why he liked him and thought he was cool. Without knowing it, Kurosawa was metaphorically catching Adachi too and making him feel safer and less worried.

In this scene, touch meant for both of them :

A safe space to be their authentic self.

A relief that they weren't failures/useless.

Inspiration/ confidence to be even better.

They're both so great guys, so good, so pure and perfect for each other.

Adachi's memories of Kurosawa

Did you notice this too? They all had to do with Kurosawa's touch, putting a scarf around his neck, touching his cheek, carrying him, helping his wounds, helping him with his things, they all showed how Kurosawa touched Adachi emotionally: he was comfort and warmth (the scarf), he was helping hand and companion, he was healing presence, and he was understanding and protective of Adachi every single moment he was with him.

But he also made Adachi's heart race (each time he tried to touch his cheek), and that touch was excitement/nervousness. I also love how the first act of Adachi when he realised how much he needed Kurosawa's touch was to ignore and walk away from helping his colleague. He's not thinking about pleasing other people, He's thinking about Kurosawa, he's doing what he wants, and he's brave. Kurosawa did that.

That's how Kurosawa and Adachi touched each other without realising their physical touches, emotional metaphorical touches, and their mental touches in each other's life. Both of them meant so much to the other, fit each other, needed each other without understanding until they finally confessed at the end of this episode. That final hug and Adachi responding after feeling scared, that kinda touch is the most precious, most beautiful thing I've ever seen in a couple and I am obsessed with this couple's growth and relationship.

#cherry magic #cherry magic! thirty years of virginity can make you a wizard?!#cherry magic!#cherrymagic #adachi x kurosawa #reviews #analysis #japanese bl #bl series #bl drama

370 notes · View notes

lackingspace · 4 years ago

Text

Null Moon (Marko x Reader)

Rating: SFW

Word Count:5.5k

Summary: Due to some mad bogus circumstances your hand was forced into relocating to the Santa Carla witch coven. Not exactly where you saw yourself, but beggars cant be choosers or however that saying goes. New coven, new community, no idea how this was going to play out, what could go wrong?

Warnings: Nothing really. Just 80s slang, some suggestive themes, trigger warning for witchcraft I guess, vampire boys doing stalky vampire things, and expanding the magical community at large. Throw in psychic fliting too. The only real warning here is that I wax soliloquy, stopping me is impossible.

So I watched Lost Boys again and Marko just too pretty and wouldn’t stop, so I had to write about it. I’m dedicated to worldbuilding because it pleases me, so no smut yet, but don’t worry, its comin. Enjoy the 80s slang sprinkled everywhere. Out of no where I know, but I hope you all like it ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Part 2: Blood Moon ✧･ﾟ:

Salt was something you’d found yourself trying to quickly get accustomed to. Don’t get it twisted, you weren’t mental and liked it in your food just fine, but it was in everything here. It was bogus, really. None of your new sisters warned you about the mundane annoyances when relocating to their beachfront town.

It was almost insidious how it could worm its way into just about anywhere and everything. Even on days you were a shut-in, your hair still had a salty ocean breeze scent and you swore you’d find grains of sand in the oddest of places. It wasn’t that big of a deal, just another thing out of your control-- one you’d never be able to change.

The atmosphere answered to no one. Maybe this was the ocean’s way of welcoming you into the fold? Taking it as a sign that the gods were pleased with your departure from the Louisiana coven helped soothe the bitter ache.

You had other things to occupy your thoughts, anyway. Nothing exciting, just the very normal, very stressful situations that came with moving. Having a not so smooth departure made your integration into this coven rocky. Trying to smooth that out while accommodating for the new energy and dynamic of the community made things difficult. Stressful? Definitely. Normal? Unfortunately. Hectic? Totally, but still necessary to process.

Getting to know your new coven sisters was also proving tedious, certain views not quite matching up. At least you were kept too busy to really worry over it. Keeping your mind occupied made everything easier. Even if they didn’t know why you’d really been looking to transfer, it was no secret on their end why they’d been so eager to accept you. They’d had a very specific position that none of the current members were willing to entertain.

A major part of the job was the operation of the coven owned metaphysical shop on the boardwalk, night shift specifically. That had a swirl of mixed emotions bristle your senses- excitement just edging out over apprehension. Your old coven hadn't been open to the human public in any way, shape, or form. The practice was sacred and you were taught to keep it that way.

The only non-paranormal individuals allowed within the walls were partners of the community. A werewolf's mate, for instance, maybe suffering an energetic imbalance would be brought in. So dealing with the stuffy clueless human populace nightly? Well, the idea was less than stellar...but survival required adaptation, and you could be flexible. Still, predicting the havoc it’d play on your nerves was easy. Good thing wine existed because having a glass a day was majorly on the agenda.

Oh well, every job had to have something and each place had slightly different energetic needs, different spiritual practices, and don’t even get you started on the nuances of rituals- everyone and their mom have their own twist. Baton Rouge had been a prime example of that- a hotbed for the magical community, it was embedded in the culture. Overflowing with a little something for everyone and then some. Different ailments, practices, people, and best of all different magics.

On the other hand, all that variety came at the cost of a massive headache in interspecies politics. Witches and vampires, weres and goblins, selkies and sirens, demons and wendigos, elementals and everyone, keeping up with who was at who's throat was exhausting. It gave you a gnarly stomach ache frankly, but if that was the price of learning your craft, well, it wasn't that steep.

Headache, stomach pains, whatever- it was a price you'd gladly pay- had paid. Plus, you had loved the community there. Once you got past the politics there was a wealth of knowledge and power just floating around, free for grabs- even when it wasn’t free, there were ways to get what you’d wanted.

Admitting that your departure had left hella bitter resentment towards your previous sisters was something you actively denied. Your new high priestess hadn’t wanted any hexes sent their way following her acceptance of you. Assuring her it was a mutual departure had been easy, they were extremely desperate and hadn’t really gone through all the hoops to look into it. Besides, it was technically true, there wouldn’t be hexes, just bad blood. There wasn’t really a need to let them know they’d be black listed from the area communals. You’d been to enough of them in the past, they weren’t that special anyway.

Here, alone in the dark with your thoughts, you could sit with the discontent. The choice to leave hadn’t been yours, but you could admit it was for the best. When faced with exile you were willing to sacrifice. Resentment notwithstanding, growth rarely happened if you stayed stagnant for too long. This could actually be a blessing in disguise, even with the perpetual gallons of salt. So here you were; New city, new coven, new people, new rules.

A sigh escaped you at the thought as you put on a nice balancing act for anyone watching. The rules were certainly different here.

Less in some ways, more in others- some very curious agreements. Carefully trying, and trying being the keyword, to descend some questionable-looking stairs while carrying delicate cargo. It being pitch black didn't exactly help either, but at twelve am with no flashlight, the darkness was expected.

Not like you could carry one right now anyway and you’d be caught dead before you put on one of those gaudy forehead lights. A distant bonfire, presumably with partygoers, a few miles off was the only source of light outside of the odd shop still lighting up the boardwalk in the distance.

Neither were a help to you here, but the darkness didn't bother you much, it was more the feeling of the wood against your feet that had you on edge. Foregoing shoes had seemed like the smarter choice knowing you'd be walking in the loose sugary sand, but with the way it mixed against the rough wood to scratch against the arch of your foot? Regret was front and center which only exacerbating your already agitated mind.

Catching your toe on an uneven patch in the wood had you hissing in pain. Someone was def getting cursed if you got a splinter. Actually, you'd be surprised if you made it out without one. These steps were legit grody, they barely even qualified as stairs honestly.

Just some half termite eaten planks, driftwood more likely, definitely nothing professional, all nailed together and stuck into the side of a steep sand dune. Falling on your ass at some point was almost guaranteed- You were always a major klutz in these situations.

Shrugging your shoulder and regripping the box, at least the sand would give you a semi-soft landing whenever it happened.

You should thank whatever beachrat made these stairs though, adjusting your grip on the box again had the jars inside clanking together, water sloshing- good thing you'd tightened the lids before leaving the shop. Thanks to these little stairs you didn’t have to miserably fail at trying your luck in midnight sand surfing. If this was midday you’d have trouble with it still- trying sand surfing now? That'd be so warped. Ugh, just imagine having to make your way back up? Now that'd be a real treat- psych.

When both feet planted safely, and surprisingly splinter-free, in the soft sand you shook yourself into focus. No more letting your thoughts drive you, way too much negativity to unpack and you didn't need that energy seeping into your work here. Moon-water wasn’t usually the most influenceable, but you could, and with your attitude the way it was? You’d totally choke if you didn’t check yourself. No need to mess up your first job, right?

Breathing deeply you set about focusing your mind; grounding, feeling yourself coming back to a controlled center was the first step of your job here tonight. Tightening your grip and breathing in had the scent of the ocean hit you full force. With practiced ease, focusing inward had your eyes naturally drifting shut and calm settle over you. It was incredible how soothing grounding- ritual in general really, could be.

Your next inhale highlighted the subtle undertones of the boardwalk overlaid in the breeze, an amalgamation that fused into a scent uniquely Santa Carla. Letting your energy sink deep within you, then lower down still, dropping into the earth, feeling the vibrations of your surroundings- naturally letting it mix with the energies surrounding you. The ocean was a powerful tool, you'd be a ditz to ignore its embrace. There was an unusual magnetic pull in the air, a buzz that licked against your senses.

The full moon was calling, and like the ocean, you were here to answer.

Centered and ready to work you made your way down to the shore. Funny thing about this new coven, part of the new rules was night rituals were restricted to a single practitioner. That restriction had seemed mental to you, and frankly? You still thought they were a bit out there to bend to such restrictions, but once you learned there was a surprisingly sizable vampire pack in the area it had made more sense. Having just one practitioner was easier for accountability and all that, but like, it was still twisted.

Vampires were picky. They claimed a territory and stuck to it. Any other lucky supernatural creature was subject to their "authority". Barf me out with that attitude. If they weren't solitary, it was usually a duo, anything more than a trio was especially rare. Vampires could be mega volatile in general, but especially towards one another. The fact that there were at least four confirmed vamps in the area? Now, that piqued your interest. Their bonds had to be radically tight to stay together with any type of calm.

Unfortunately, vampires and witches? Typically not such a hot mix.

Vampires and magic didn't always mesh well and historically that meant witches and vampires couldn't play nice together. Funnily enough, this coven didn't go against status quo- every sister you'd met so far vehemently detested vamps. Too bad they were smackdab in the middle of fang city.

The location being legit brill had something to do with how docile the coven acted. It said something when witches were willing to take shit and obey in order to practice. Energetically potent, magically powerful, Santa Carla was a delightful nexus. Not to mention scenic too.

The coven was desperate for someone to be the designated night ritualist, working the stores night shift was just a caveat. The timing had worked out because you were just as desperate. You thought the whole vampire witch feud thing was lame, but it’d saved you from ex-communication, so you'd keep that tidbit to yourself.

Vampires didn't bother you really. Well, they could, but not because the vampy bit, just the entitled attitude. Anyone could be a barf bag regardless of what they were. You'd met just as many ditzy witches as narbo vamps. You were more concerned that you'd most definitely have human tourists bombarding you every night.

What got you though was the craziest part of the deal. When within a 15 mile radius of the boardwalk there was a restriction to strictly restorative work. Even being a nexus, you weren’t sure this place was worth neutering yourself energetically for. Sure, vampire's had their reasons, severe sensitivity to magic yada-yada, not to mention if their bond was as tight as you assumed, they probably felt active magic like nails on a chalkboard, but damn.

You couldn’t believe the high priestess would agree to it. It really seemed the witches got the short end of the stick here. You weren’t seeing a lot of benefits for yourself. So far your opinion on the coven was….well, at this point you were half-convinced you’d joined a gaggle of ditzes.

Having taken stock of the ingredients they had on hand a quick glance had made replenishing the monthly moon water a top priority. It was such a simple thing, very useful, super versatile, and no one in the coven had been willing to make a large batch of it. Ugh, imagine letting prejudice get in the way of making such a staple ingredient. There wasn't anything fancy that went into it. A cool head, even temper, patience, and a little prep was all that it needed.

That’s what you were here for now, though. They could keep their dislike and eat their cake too. Still, you weren’t completely obstinate and took their warning to heart, it wasn't just the vampires that made the area witches refuse the night shift.

Santa Carla wasn’t exactly Disneyland. Murder was a thing and it happened here daily. Nexus’s tended to have a magnetic draw. Pulling in powerful things, good things, weak things, bad things- the sheer unpredictability wasn’t a friend in this case.

A random human could decide tonight was beach shanking night and you’d be the lucky victim. You’d like to see them try at least. Maybe one of the vampire pack would break the agreement if they were feeling a bit nippy? Doubtful if they didn’t want a war on their hands, but possible. A stray wendigo attracted to your energy feeling a midnight snack seemed more likely. Could even be a banshee needing a quick meal. Never can tell how things were going to work out.

Knowing yourself though, you’d probably just trip up those hella grimy stairs and break your neck.

You weren’t too worried about being attacked though, honestly. You had wards in place and if it got past that, well, you'd deal with whatever it was then. No use worrying about it now. You were more than happy to take on the privilege to essentially moon bathe on the beach while funneling the energy to the water. It was good on all levels.

Walking to the area you’d scouted during the day set your mind back into focus. Setting the box down, the jars jostling while you grabbed the blanket hanging off the side of the box. Spreading it out and setting up your area had everything falling in place. The jars spread just along the outside of your circular blanket, with that done you sat yourself down in the center.

Determined to do this right you brought back that focused rooted energy. Using this as an opportunity to release some built-up tension would be a good idea too. Let the ocean wash away your bitterness with the tide and allow the moon to shift you into clarity for whatever was to come. Even if you did think your new sisters were idiots, they were to be your idiots and you had to embrace it.

As you laid there working the energy and letting it shift, you noticed a curious sensation at the edge of your perception.

A slight tickling at the fringe of your awareness; soft, so extremely soft and subtle that if you’d just gone about your business and hadn’t been so introspective focused you’d totally have passed it over.

Watched.

The subtle sensation wasn’t threatening as of yet, but you were definitely being watched. By what? You weren’t sure. Getting a firm reading on it was difficult. The more you focused on the energy the further it pulled back. Pursuing it only had whoever it was slyly staying just out of your grasp.

Definitely not human. Wouldn’t be a witch or a medium either, they’d just answer your psychic questioning. Could be a were, you’d heard they’d been in the area recently. The next brush sent a shiver down your spine and had you crossing weres off. It was definitely too silky to be one, they always felt gruffer to you, wilder. Possibly a demon, they had that shade of sensuality and always liked to follow you around in new territory. A quick flash of tightly-wound sharp control coated in a mischievous air finally spit out the answer; Vampire.

Satisfied, you dropped the pursuit and turned your attention back to the sea. Subtle brushes returning, but this time not trying to hide itself or their interest. So one of the new overlords had decided to drop in on their new subject? That was just fine as long as they stayed watching and didn’t interfere.

You’d give it to whichever vamp this was. They had wicked nice energy. Like, once you got a read on that was. Playful, cheeky almost to a fae’s degree, brimming with an elusive danger, while still having a quiet peace underneath. That quiet calm resonated inside your own field and was exactly what you needed to settle back into your space. You didn’t hate the idea of their company so much.

You’d expected a run-in at some point, but right away? They were some go-getters to the max.

Nothing came of it though, the watcher had just been that. A watcher. When three am came, went, and passed, you’d decided to pack things up. You felt their vigilant gaze the entire time. Even after you got in your car and motored on home, it was still with you. It was only after you entered your home did their light press on your awareness leave.

The rest of your week played out much the same. Feeling that attentive gaze in every outside ritual from start to well after the finish. Even while you were working the shop they’d pop in and out of your awareness only to settle when you were locking up for the night.

You’d tried to catch a glimpse of who your designated monitor was, but it proved an impossible task. Stealth was a vampire’s friend and this one was incredibly apt. They stayed just far enough away during ritual and on the boardwalk you were too busy entertaining space cadet humans or dealing with an actual client to seek them out.

On that note, there was a surprising number of shapeshifters in the area, changelings especially had been a nice treat. They weren’t exactly common in Louisiana and working with them was always interesting. They required a delicate eye and full attention when diagnosing their condition.

A shapeshifter’s physicality was entirely based on energy manipulation, so one wrong push or pull and you could injure them more than help. Pinpointing where your attentive observer was out in the crowd became annoyingly out of the question.

They’d turn up eventually. Until then, however, you’d just have to sit tight. Lucky for you changelings had a penchant for gossiping. They’d been kind enough to give you a rundown on the pack and their opinion of them. Changelings weren’t known to have easily won loyalty, so the popular opinion on them being pretty rad, was surprising.

They were apparently chill on the authority, which was shocking enough, but they said the pack leader, David, could be hella genial. Vampires weren’t usually described that way. Not outside of the anyone they were glamouring anyway. Maybe the coven weren’t such spazes to reside here.

Friday saw your week coming to a close. You’d woken up ready to put your first week behind you and spend the weekend really exploring the area. There was a nice hiking trail not too far away that you’d really wanted to spend some time at. A few brownies had spirited into the shop and mentioned it as a great area for herbs and ritual during conversation.

Brewing a second cup of tea, calming herbs this time- regular humans really did get on your nerves with their incessant brainless questions and barf bag attitude. There were a few mediums that'd dropped in who you didn't mind, actually really liked, but the rest of the human race made you want to gag. Lumping witches and poor mediums into the same category didn’t seem fair.

The night was steadily cruising along. The humans came in bursts, sporadic, but manageable. Client-wise, nothing too dramatic either, the most interesting case was a few sprites suffering a nasty goblin hex. It was an easy enough fix, orders on how to use the herbs, and a cautionary chastising to leave the gobbies alone unless invited. They giggled their departure as you shook your head, sprites never learned.

The night's energy had you listless. Only a few hours left before you could close down shop and you were antsy. No pressing ceremonies to perform tonight for the coven either, so heading straight home to open that bottle of wine you'd acquired before your arrival was on the top of the to-do list.

Curiously, your nightly specter hadn't visited once. It was surprising how fast you'd gotten used to a vampire’s energy body. If you were honest with yourself, you'd even come to look forward to having it- him, the changelings had listed only male vampires, being a steady sensation on the outer edges of your senses.

The absence of the strange new routine left you with an unsettled itch. Something was off, you could tell, your antsiness screamed of something about to happen, you just weren't sure what.

The answer came not too long after that. With a lull of what you assumed to be the last customers of the night, you’d busied yourself restocking and starting to close down. High on the shelf ladder reorganizing the herb wall. It got so messy with the daily run-through of customers’ grubby hands all over it. Turning a jar forward as the bell above the door sounded.

"Welcome! I'll be-" the energy that zapped your senses had you cut off the greeting with a sharp inhale. Thank the gods you hadn't been holding one of the glass jars, it'd be smithereens otherwise.

The shift had hit you instantly, an electric buzz that lapped against your mental self. Giving you a clear idea of what just walked in. Four of them. They'd all come. Shifting through the sensation, trying to grasp each of their unique patterns had you stopping short when you felt your chaperone's energy reach out to you.

It wasn't just a soft prodding like usual, instead, it was like a full-body caress. More like a lick if you were honest.

Skin tingling, electric sparks sent down your spine settling somewhere you'd rather not question right now, and if your nipples had tightened from it? Well, that was nobody's business. Beneath the shameless lick was an urge of reassurance.

The unspoken highly nuanced language assuring you of safety. Thank the goddess you were fluent. It was odd, really, a vampire reassuring a witch of their safety? You weren't prey, not if they wanted the coven to stay placid. Even if they’d decided to attack you weren’t helpless. The kiddie gloves would come off quicker than lightning and then they’d see what was up.

They’d definitely break you, but you’d do some damage. So there wasn't any rhyme or reason to make you feel safe or calmed. Nothing you could think of except for your own peace of mind. It had a giggle bubbling up, but you clamped down before it could escape.

You appreciate the sentiment regardless and dragged your energy against his in return, showing your mirth, and if he was apt enough to recognize the instant anxiety their entrance caused, he'd feel the praise underneath.

Taking a deep inhale before steeling yourself. You'd anticipated that it was only a matter of time before a meeting. The high priestess had said it’d come at some point when they felt ready, so you were decidedly not going to freak out and treat them like any other customer. Even if one of them had already made your nipples pebble.

You were also so ready to end the mystery of what your babysitter looked like. Putting a face to, well not a name, but an energetic signature rather. Stepping down from the ladder you made your way towards the front counter.

They were milling about between aisle shelving so getting a clear look wasn’t working. You could see bits of hair, flashes of leather, and hear their banter- typical dudes messing with each other. You were right, hearing how affable they were with each other solidified that they def have a legit bond.

Waiting another minute behind that counter still hadn’t made them come to you. Sighing before you decided to speak up, "What can I help you with tonight?" That had the laughter in the back trickle off before a rumbling voice spoke out, "Many things, maybe nothing. Depends on what you're offering." He hadn’t needed to emerge from the aisle for you to feel the leer paired with that statement. Ah, so David was the edgy type. You could work with that.

What you might stumble over though, was just how pretty they all were.

Don't get it wrong, Vampires were supposed to be attractive, it was part of their thing. A magnetic and alluring shift happened to them all when they were turned, but this? This was on another level.

The vague memory of lessons from your old covens compendium on vampiric lore came to mind. It’d stated the first vampire came into existence born by way of an incubus mingling in a maenads rites with a medium. Their resulting child the first vampire.

Who knew how accurate those stories were, the compendium was specific to each coven; an enduring collection of their line of knowledge, but authenticity was always questionable.

Looking at them all as they emerged- really made you believe there was some weighted truth to the legend. Incubus certainly seemed like it was mingled up in them. You’d been gifted by a few incubi once upon a time and the similarities between them and these boys? Striking. Between their movements, their magnetic presences, and the brazen way they gazed at you.

The vampires in Louisiana were all charming, but it was all a subtle compulsion. It didn’t help that they typically had a bad attitude mixed with antiquated style. They just never appealed to you.

This pack, however, seems like they’d had no problem keeping up with pop culture. Embracing it wholeheartedly, one of them looked like he moonlighted in poison for crying out loud. Maybe they were young, but you got a vibe that hinted otherwise. More like they were adaptable.

Trying to keep a straight face, professionalism and all that, was difficult, but doable. At least you thought it was, but once you locked eyes with a pair of soulful hazel- there was no doubt that they all felt the psychic warble you let slip accidentally.

He’d been the elusive watcher this week. There wasn’t a question about it, a perfect face to match his auric self. The breath you’d been holding choked out when he broke into an impish grin followed by what was essentially another playful full-body kiss.

You swore you could hear a purr resound in your mind. The three subordinates chuckled when you drew in a sharp intake.

“Marko.” David's tenor was soft, but firm. Marko? Cute. Without breaking eye contact, his smile widened mischievously while he raised both hands in surrender. The undivided attention was unsettling in all the right ways.

Sparking a heat that undulated throughout you. Tabling that information to the back of your mind, you broke the gaze. Needed to if you were going to have any kind of brain function for conversation.

Turning to the de facto leader you sized him up. Or tried to. Definitely threatening, actively making it hard to read him. On the surface he felt like a cold blade; sharp, decisive, piercing.

Good qualities for a leader you supposed, but like, damn, that didn’t sate your curiosity. If he wasn’t going to work with you then that only left the boring way, “David, I presume?”

He raised a brow with a pleased look, “Good. The little crone knows who matters around here.” Bo-guuus, edgy with an attitude. Those changelings either lied or were talking about someone different because genial? You weren’t seeing it. Aiming an unimpressed look paired with a, “Mmhmm” brought a chuckle of his own.

Waiting for him to speak again seemed like the best option, you weren’t very good at small talk, and Marko was still so very distracting. After David’s chiding, he really hadn’t let up much. He might not be doing that lick thing with the delightful heat, but what he was doing wasn’t far off.

Going out of his way to make sure a large portion of your attention was still focused on him by continually baiting you; almost like energetic petting. If you weren’t trying to have a serious conversation you’d bask in the new attention. You weren’t a cat, but you imagined this is what they must have felt like. Psychic flirting was always fun, but his attention had it quickly becoming your favorite.

With him doing it in front of his pack though? Any sensible person, witch especially should be uncomfortable. Totally pissed if not outraged- it was definitely a claim, unnervingly possessive, and you shouldn’t like the blatant territorial display, but for some reason, it stroked something deep in your harebrain that majorly worked for you.

Before you could drop down that rabbit hole further David brought you back, “You’ve been a busy little witch this past week.” Annoyance fluttered in, what’d he expect? There hadn’t been a night ritualist for over a year. There was a lot of work to do, some things just couldn’t be done during the day.

You shrugged “Ha, massive understatement. New coven, new clients, way too many neglected things to catch up on. Seems like you should thank me for taking over.”

The look he gave you was piercing and indiscernible. You weren’t really sure where you stood with him. You hadn’t done anything to step out of the bounds they’d placed on you, but somehow with the look he was leveling at you begged the question, had you?

Mentally retracing your week yielded nothing. Hadn’t even tried to hex anyone, even that human who’d cut you off on your drive in Wednesday night, now that’d been difficult. Was this why you’d had such heavy surveillance? Not that you’d minded, but here you thought it was just your shining personality.

“Keep it up. The community needs a witch with some spine.” Maybe you’d spoke too soon, he might not be so bad.

“I wasn’t so sure about you. Word on the street and all.” That had you freeze. Not even Marko’s continued attention phased you. There was no way he knew anything. That was impossible. Your new coven didn’t know, your old coven wouldn't dare let anything slip- it wouldn’t just be you who lost face.

There was no way anyone knew anything about you or why you’d moved. It had to be a bluff, a well aimed taunt. It was common knowledge that witches rarely transferred covens, it happened for a multitude of reasons- good, bad, ugly. He was just being a dickhead, a nosy dickhead.

Forcing a calm mask even though you were sure they could all hear your rapid heartbeat, trying not to play into his bait, “Oh? Word on the street? I have a rep already? Bitchin’.”

Anxiety was a mega issue for you, so not having a cow and playing it as chill as you did? A total moment for you. clammy hands, rapid heartbeat, clenched jaw and all. That pulled a laugh out of Marko and the hair band look-alike while David and the clydesdale in the back wore smirks.

“Word is the new witch isn’t from the clique. Never can tell what you little hags are planning, bringing in new blood?” He leaned forward across the counter catching you with his piercing blues, “That has trouble written all over it.”

You were slow to process what he’d actually said, too caught up in how the light glinted off his pretty eyes. There was no denying it, so you didn’t try, “For sure,” but on second thought you didn’t want to make it sound like you were here to start shit, “but change isn’t always bad.”

He tapped the glass of the counter before he pushed off, “We’ll see about that, little hag”. That must have been the signal to leave because he’d started walking towards the door with the silent type in his shadow.

Marko hadn’t moved, hadn’t dropped his attention and you were nervous to return it. Too likely to get caught up in something now that they were all leaving. You liked it, but it was still like mega nerve-racking.

Before you could work up the confidence to engage with whatever that was, the taller blonde slapped his shoulder, “I like this chick! She’s got some spunk!”

He made to push away from the vampire still comfortably leaning against the counter, but something had caught your eye. Without thinking, your hand shot out like a viper to grip his wrist before he could walk any further away, “Wait up!” Marko’s purr, or whatever that buzz he was coating you in suddenly sputtered out.

With everyone’s attention returning, you dropped the skin contact and made your way around the counter. Standing in front of him while quickly giving him a psychic once over. His tallness made it very inconvenient to look for the physical indicator of what you suspected. With a yank to his shoulder you spoke before you really thought how it’d be taken, “Bend down and show me your teeth.”

268 notes · View notes

blu-joons · 4 years ago

Text

When You Prefer Animals To Humans ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

You pulled him down onto one of the park benches, resting against his chest, watching the world walk past you, one of your very past times on days off.

“The dogs are always so cute at the park,” you whispered, staring at all the dogs racing around the fields, “I could spend all day just watching them run around.”

“So, when you said it would be a cute date to walk down to the park, all you really wanted to do was come and see the dogs?” Jin questioned, kissing the top of your head.

You giggled, staring up at him momentarily, “it’s a cute date too, but seeing all the dogs is just like an added benefit, you can’t pretend it’s not cute.”

He smiled sweetly, “it’s very cute, although sometimes I’m beginning to think sometimes you shouldn’t have a boyfriend, you should just have a dog instead.”

“Is that your way of saying you want to get another dog?” You teased, jumping out of his hold to rest your hands on his chest, staring hopefully at him.

“Maybe…it’s not such a bad idea.”

Yoongi:

He couldn’t help but smile as he walked in and found you laid out on your bed with Holly snuggled into your side, rubbing the sleep from out of his eyes.

“Are you planning on getting up today?” He teased, sitting back down on the end of the bed, “it’s usually my thing to stay in bed all day, and now look at you.”

“I refuse to move,” you chuckled, tickling the top of Holly’s head, “I’d rather stay here with Holly then bother with any humans today.”

Yoongi gasped, clutching his hand over his heart, “so you’re telling me you’d rather spend time with my dog? That’s not why I got into a relationship with you.”

Your head shook, “perhaps not, but being in a relationship with you certainly has its perks knowing that you have a dog too.”

“I see what’s happened here, you’ve just used me for my dog,” he laughed, laying back down beside you, “I guess if you can’t beat them join them.”

“Sorry, we don’t want you, this is our time.”

Hoseok:

Your eyes lit up as Hobi walked into the coffee shop with Mickey held firmly on his leash, bending down to give the pup the whole world’s worth of attention.

“Nice to see you too,” Hobi chuckled as he stood waiting for you to greet him too. “We only saw you yesterday, what’s got into you today.”

“I’ve officially decided I hate people,” you sighed as you sat down and started telling him about your rough day at work. “I’m just going to retire and live with animals.”

He smiled sympathetically across at you, “as nice as an idea that would be, I don’t think you’d get very far just living with animals, how would you survive?”

You chuckled, taking a sip from your coffee, “I wouldn’t need anything else to survive, just the attention of all the animals would be enough.”

“Well I hope you’ve not written off all humans, as I’d still like to be one of the humans in your life,” he blushed gently, reaching for your hand.

“You can be the one exception to the rule.”

Namjoon:

As soon as Namjoon’s picture appeared on the screen Moni began to bark in your lap as you waved at your boyfriend, studying his reflection closely.

“You guys seem to be having a good time,” he smiled, having trusted you to care for Moni whilst he was on tour, “is he behaving himself?”

“Joon he is a dream! I don’t think I’ll be able to let you take him back when you come home,” you teased, kissing the top of Moni’s head, “why are animals just so incredible?”

He couldn’t help but laugh, he always knew how good a job you’d do with him. “I would like my dog back, but maybe there’s a way that you could stay with him too?”

Your expression turned to one of confusions as Namjoon laughed at how clueless you were, “what are you suggesting? That we cut Moni in half or something?”

“Don’t be silly, I was thinking maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea if you moved in with the two of us, seeing as Moni loves you just as much as I do.”

“Yeah, that’s a much better idea than mine!”

Jimin:

You could tell that he was ever so slightly annoyed when he walked into the room and saw you still cuddled up to your cats, adjusting the tie of his suit.

“I thought you might’ve changed your mind,” he huffed, sitting next to you on the sofa, “are you sure you don’t want to come to the event tonight, it’ll be fun.”

“There’s so many people,” you frowned, seeking comfort from the cuddle of your cat, “I’d just rather just enjoy the peaceful company of these guys instead.”

He nodded, understanding that social gatherings weren’t your favourite things in the world, “I won’t be too long in that case, but don’t wait up for me.”

You sighed, seeing past his fake smiles, “I’m sorry if you’re annoyed that I’d rather be here, I’d just rather be here with the cats.”

“I understand,” he assured you, “I just want you to be happy, and if you’re happier with the cats then I’m not going to stop you from being with them.”

“Thank you Chim, have a good night.”

Taehyung:

His eyes lit up as soon as you answered the call, waving as you smiled, looking down from his eyes to where Yeontan sat in his lap.

“How’s my gorgeous boy?” You questioned, pulling faces at Yeontan. “Is daddy taking good care of you on tour whilst I’m not there.”

“I thought when you said gorgeous boy you were referring to me,” Tae giggled, kissing the top of Tan’s head, “I can’t believe you think he’s more handsome than I am.”

Your head shook at him, “I speak to you all day I never get to see Tannie, I miss him a lot actually. It’s true when they say that a dog is man’s best friend.”

Taehyung tried to keep Tannie calm as he climbed around the computer, “what about me? You’re supposed to miss me a lot too, it’s been weeks since we saw each other.”

“I do miss you Tae,” you assured him, “but I also miss Tannie, I just want to make sure you both have my attention, and check in on the both of you.”

“That was a nice save, but I know it’s Tan you want.”

Jungkook:

You could sense the frustration growing in Jungkook as he tried to get Gureum to sit in order for him to be given his treats, repeating the instruction again and again.

“Gureum! Sit!” You bellowed, holding his treat up high in the air, smiling proudly as he sat down on the floor, “you just need to have the authority.”

“What?” Jungkook chuckled, trying to figure out what had just happened. “How did you do that so quickly? How come he listens to you but not me?”

Your shoulders shrugged, “I’ve had a lot of practice, I think animals and I have some sort of psychic relationships sometimes.”

Jungkook nodded in agreement, wrapping his arm around you. “You’re definitely going to have to show me how you did that, do you reckon it’ll work with the boys?”

“My talents only stretch as far as animals,” you laughed, “and we both know that the boys will never, ever listen to you.”

“Anything’s worth a try.”

---

Masterlist

321 notes · View notes

lustbile-archive · 4 years ago

Text

LucasxReader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary/Warnings: 100% inspired by the way that seeing this picture made me black out and is another situation of “was supposed to only be like 1k words”. Warnings: public-ish?, blow job, fingering, suggestions of drug and alcohol consumption. Also disclaimer! This was written before the whole smoking things went down on twitter so I’m not saying I’m psychic but I might be who knows.

The stale smell of beer and marujana strings the inside of your nose as you enter the empty entrance of the house, the only evidence that life existed in the home, was the muffled talking and music that came from the basement of the home.

The notification from the text that Lucas had sent telling you he’d see you soon still lived on the lock screen of your phone as you walked down the hallway of the house that belonged to a friend of his that you had only met a handful of times before. The single hit of a blunt that your boyfriend had inhaled hours ago was enough to have him texting you to tell you how much he missed you, but he was unable to come meet you both from his consumption of the drug, but also his lack of transportation or someone sober enough to drive him to your apartment. So instead you found yourself slipping on the first pair of shoes you could see, and drove to the address he shared with you.

The rumbling voices and deep bass only got louder as you got closer to the door, your heart thumping at both the anticipation of seeing your boyfriend, and also having to face his inebriated friends at such a late hour. The smell of alcohol and smoke hits you stronger when you open the door, and you have to take a moment to mentally prepare before walking into the room.

There’s only a beat of time before they notice the new presence in the room, another before they realize who you were exactly, and then they start quietly cheering a slurring in excitement. Though, amongst all the noise, there’s one voice that rings louder than any and directly into your ears.

He resembled a fur rug in the way he had draped himself in the worn leather recliner that had been tucked into the corner of the room. The shine that showed in his big brown eyes from across the room told you that, if he wasn’t slowed slightly from the second hand buzz he was getting from the amount that the other boys had hotboxed the room, he would have gotten up to greet you. Instead, he excitedly patted his big hands against his thighs in invitation for you to take your favorite throne.

You can't help but mirror the large grin that he throws your way, and after you step over the two boys that had found themselves collapsed on the floor in front of you and the dozens of empty cans that cluttered the room, you make your way slowly to where he sat. His smile grows as you get closer and you feel your heart beat faster in response.

“Long time no see,” he speaks when you finally stand in front of him, his words broken up by his growing giggles. You can’t help but smile down at him in admiration when he reaches to grab at your hips and pull you into his lap.

“It has been a while hasn’t it?” you tease as you straddle him and wrap your hands loosely around his shoulders, “i’m not surprised that when you get all giggly and high is when you’re texting me begging to come see you.”

“Not surprised?” his head jerks back gently in curiosity and in an attempt to get a better look at your face, “am I predictable?”

“Wouldn’t say predictable,” you start to gently rock back and forth as you speak, your hands moving to run through his thick and messy hair as his knead at the muscles of your hips and thighs, “but you’re clingy, and it only gets worse when you’re high.”

“M’not that high,” his head shakes and he runs his hands up your back, pushing you forward until your noses touch, “just high enough.”

“Yeah I can tell,” he’s always been good at handling his weed and himself for that matter, but you do know that he’s gone enough that he doesn’t notice your eyes darting down towards his lap, “but I do know that you’re at least a little high, because you always get hard really easy when you are.”

A deep groan shakes his chest in faux embarrassment at getting caught, his smile softening to give him a more arrogant aura as his hips involuntarily thrust up towards you, “sorry bout that, but i’ve been thinking about you long before I ever texted you so it was bound to happen.”

“It’s fine, flattering actually that I can get you hard without even being here,” you can feel yourself softening as you speak, and you slowly shift forward as you speak until you can feel his bulge pressing into the seat of your pajama shorts, “if you come home with me I can help you with it.”

His head shakes in disappointment, “nah I promised a few of the guy that i’d help them move out of their apartment tomorrow so i’ve gotta be here for that in the morning,” he bites at his cheek once the words are in the air, the thoughts running through his mind are almost deafening as they make his eyebrows draw together in concentration.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself thinking that hard Xuxi,” you’ve slipped into a soft whisper as you speak, and you move your hand to press your thumb between his brows in hopes to relieve the tension, “what's going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“I mean,” he shrugs, trying to procrastinate telling you what he's thinking, “you could always help me get off right here.”

You’re woken up from your daze when the words leave his mouth, your heart thumping at what he's suggesting, “what do want me to grind on you ‘til you come in your pants? Isn’t that a little too high school for you?”

“No not grind on me,” his hands return to your hips and he begins to pick at a loose string on the band of your shorts, his eyes moving down to where your crotch meets his to avoid your eyes, “I mean like maybe… blowing me?”

“You want me to blow you right here in front of all your dumb friends?” you harshly whisper hoping none of the mentioned boys will stir from their drug induced daze.

His eyes immediately dart up again to lock onto yours, “I mean you don’t have to, I just thought maybe it’d be a little exciting y’know. And i’d return the favor like always,” as he finishes speaking, one of his hands begins to move. It lands directly in the space between your thighs, and as he starts to softly pet at your through your shorts, you feel your guard melting away, the small sparks of pleasure from his usually rough fingers making your head tilt forward.

“If any of them say anything I’ll kill you.”

“They’re a lot more gone than I am, they probably won't even notice,” the excitement that builds in him is evident in his tone and you can't stop the way your own chest blooms with your own excitement in response.

“They better be,” you slip out of his hold, slowly sliding down into the floor until you're kneeling in front of him. His fingers now drum against his thighs in excitement now that you’re no longer there for him to hold on to.

You stop yourself from turning around and checking on the boys around you, fearing that seeing them again will make this all too real and make you back out. It does feed your mind paranoia, but you can't deny that the idea of putting your mouth around your boyfriend in a room of other people doesn’t warm the pit in your stomach, and you’re almost even ashamed to admit to yourself that you can feel a wetness building in between your thighs.

Your fingers slightly shake as you run them up his thighs, and when they meet where his rest, he momentarily wraps your fingers with his to give you a reassuring squeeze. Once he releases your hands, you start to move again, until they reach the band of his sweatpants.

“Oh fuck, okay,” you hear him murmur to himself as his hips tilt up to help as you tug the fabric down until its wrapped around his thighs. Your eyes move to look at him again before you speak.

“So you just don’t wear underwear when you hang out with your friends?” you can't imagine how weird you two look as you playfully scold him as his moves his hand to hide his growing smile and his mostly hard length lays against the fabric of his t-shirt that covers his stomach, “I can’t imagine it’d be too comfortable to help your friend move apartments when you’re free balling it.”

“I have a change of clothes in my bag,” he defends quietly, his hand falling back to his side, “I hate wearing underwear when i’m getting high, makes me feel constricted.”

“You’re so fucking weird,” you say bluntly as you go to wrap your hand around him, and regardless of the playfull look of disappointment you wear, you begin to slowly move your hand up and down the length of him.

You feel a tight sense of pride in your chest as when you start to move your fist, he stiffens at the sudden pleasure. The mean smile you throw at him makes him bite down on his bottom lip and his hands start to twitch as he tries to decide what to do with them.

You lose the eye contact you two had when, as you move your hand up the length of his him, you trail your hand with the flat of your tongue. You stiffen when he lets out a groan as he tilts his head back, hoping it won't stir the boys around you.

“Quiet,” you whisper without thinking, moving your hand to hold him at the base as he breathes a laugh out through his nose. You hold him as you put the tip of him in your mouth, rolling your tongue over him as you taste the arousal he’s begun to spill. You start to move down further when he moves to hold your jaw, stopping you.

“I was being serious when I said I’ve been hard for awhile,” he says in a strained and warning tone. He jumps in your mouth when you hum in acknowledgment.

You try not to cringe when as you pull off there’s a soft popping noise that follows, “so?” you ask tilting your head and moving your hand up and down as you speak. Every time your fingers reach the tip you brush the pad of your thumb over him making him twitch, “how long do you think it will take for you to get there?”

“Not long,” he sounds vaguely disappointed in himself, but the way your wrist moves causing it to melt away as he sinks back into his seat, “not with your mouth.”

You grin, laughing warmly at what you decide to take as a compliment.

“Tight,” you nod, starting to slightly feel the warm effects of the smoked out room, before you tilt your head back down and put your waiting mouth back around him.

You try to ignore the moan he lets out in response, praying to whatever that’s listening that the others will stay in their daze. You take a quick breath through your nose, before you move him as deep in your throat as you can.

Your lips bump against your hand where you still hold him, your tongue licking against the vein that pumps against it, before you move your hand to rest on his hip, allowing you to go further. You let out a soft moan when your nose presses against his stomach, the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat making you drool slightly, some even spilling past your lips and dampening his pants.

The vibrations from your mouth run up his spine, pushing more quiet groans from his chest. You can feel his hands moving around you as he desperately tries to decide what to do with them, before one grabs at your hand until your fingers are laced together and the other rests on the back of your neck.

You reach to tap his wrist momentarily in warning, before you start slowly moving your head up. You look up when all that remains in your mouth is his tip, forcing him to hold eye contact before taking him back until he hits the back of your throat again. You don’t let up on your stare as you repeat the motion over and over.

His face screws up, almost as if he’s in pain, and his fingers flex around the back of your neck as if he's holding himself back from holding you too roughly. As you move, you start to run your free hand up to his stomach, scraping your nails against the line of hair that runs from under his belly button making more deep noises pass his lips regardless of his attempts to suppress them.

“Baby please,” he pleads, seemingly unaware of what exactly he’s asking for, but when he starts to pulse his hips gently with the same pace that you move your mouth on him, you know that he’s getting closer to the edge.

Another soft pop is heard as you move off him again, a faux innocent pout falling on your lips, “want you to come in my mouth Xuxi,” you taunt, and the way he starts thrusting into the empty air tells you how much your words affect him.

You move the hand on his stomach to wrap around him once again, pumping him a few times before holding him at his base and running the flat of your tongue up the length of him. You pause when you reach his tip, pressing it against the muscle as you move it slowly back and forth. He looks like he’s on the edge of insanity when you leave your mouth wide open as you start to move your wrist slowly, your grip exactly the way you know will make him crumble.

You can’t help but flinch slightly as he starts to come, the thickness of his come hitting your tongue before his noises reach your ears, but you will your eyes to stay open enough to watch him as he falls apart. His hips continue to move, smearing the evidence of him around your tastebuds, and the way his head tilts back strains his neck and makes thick veins pop out in a way that makes your feel dizzy.

His quickened breath starts to steady again as you move to pull away, but with his eyes still shut close, you can’t help but jump when the hand on the back of your neck moves to grip your jaw, his thumb moving until it hooks into your mouth and behind your front bottom teeth to hold your jaw open making your unable to swallow what he’s left behind on your tongue.

He leans forward, his now open eyes looking delirious as he lets go of your hand to wrap it around your waist to hoist you back into his lap. You scramble to your feet as best as you can with his thumb almost painfully holding your mouth open, praying none of it drips onto the carpet below you. You try even harder to move your legs to properly straddle him, as it seems in his crazed delirium he has no consideration as to where your knees could possibly land.

Before you can fully comprehend the motions happening so quickly, you're pressed tightly against his chest, your fists holding tightly onto the front of his shirt as he uses the hand on your jaw to drag you to slot your open mouth against his.

The pleased moan that rolls out of you without thinking matches perfectly with the one he lets out once your mouths cover each other. His hand moves away from your jaw, the way his tongue shoves itself into your mouth and licks at the evidence of his orgasm and the back of your teeth is enough to keep you perfectly in place. You can feel him pushing some of his come further back into your mouth as well as taking some into his own, you two break for only a moment to swallow before your lips meet again, the taste of his being permanently burned into your mind as his warm breath gets your dizzier than any of the smoke dancing around your bodies could.

There’s no verbal warning before his arm tightens around your waist while the other one greedily shoves itself into the front of your shorts, the yelp of surprise you let out is completely devoured by his mouth as he happily hums against you.

“I knew you’d be wet,” he says smugly when you break away to moan at the way his fingers immediately press into you, your forehead pressed against his temple as you watch his hand move under the fabric, “love having me in your mouth don’t you.”

“Lucas hush,” you scold as your eyes fall shut, his long middle and ring finger curling inside you. You feel your muscles relax as his fingers thrust against the spot inside you that makes your eyes flutter. One hand lets go of the grip you had on his shirt to lay softly against the side of his face, this and the way your body starts to curl against his makes his lips pull into an endeared smile that you feel under the pad of your thumb.

You can feel your hips rocking against his hand similarly to the way he had trusted into your mouth, your thighs trying to flex together regardless of the way his legs keep them spread.

Once he’s gotten his fingers drenched in your arousal, he slowly pulls them out of you making you whimper at the loss. He quietly coos at you to quiet you before his wet fingers start to roll over the sensitive nerves of your neglected clit, you jump again at the sudden feeling and he only chuckles with pride in response.

He starts moving his hand that’s wrapped around your waist, his fingers brushing against your ribs through the old worn shirt you wear to go to sleep and it almost feels like you're melting as he pets at you with his determined fingers.

“Wanna see you come so bad,” he starts to mutter in the way that tells you he's not fully conscious of what he’s saying out loud as he slips into his own little world, something you’ve learned he does every once in awhile when he’s pleasuring you, “been so long, miss it so bad.”

“Xuxi,” his name being the only word your brain can form as the slurred way he speaks starts to flood your chest with endearment. His hand picks up its pace as he starts to lose himself in watching you fall apart, no longer aware of the room that you sit in that’s full of his friends, unaware of what jealousy he’d feel if they were to see you like this even if they were too high to remember. Something about the way your thighs flex and your body starts to shake makes it feel like he’s in a trance and he only wishes he could see you bare and gushing for him.

His name slips from you again, this time as a warning as you feel your lower stomach flex and relax over and over as you reach your finish. You clench softly around nothing and you become only vaguely aware of how the hand placed on his face is now curling into a loose fist and your nails scrape against the skin of his cheekbone and jaw.

The third time his name falls from your lips, it's broken up by pleased and strained whimpers as you start to come. His mind is too busy reveling in the noises you make and the way your arousal continues to dampen you further to think to slow down his motions, his quickly moving fingers carrying you through your orgasm as your head rolls to the side and your teeth latch onto the soft skin of his earlobe.

The grunt he lets out at the small bite of pain and the unending friction makes you start to shake and whine as it feels like you’ll never escape the pleasure he inflicts on you. You pant through your teeth, and your toes painfully curl as he overstimulates your body, and he probably would continue his subconscious torture on your body if you didn’t come to your sense enough to move your hand away from his face to wrap around his wrist.

You all but rip his hand from your shorts, his name being spoken again but with a more muddied tone behind it. Once his fingers are off of you, he wakes up from whatever hypnosis your body had put on him and your slumping tired against his chest.

You cringe as, when he tightens his hold on you to hug you against his body, you also hear the undeniable slurping noise of him sucking what you had left behind on his fingers. He hums happily around his digits and you can’t help but return the noise when he pulls them out with a dramatic pop of his own and turns his head until he can nudge you with his nose. Once you lift your head enough, his lips return to yours and you're both humming in content against one another as the dull taste of yourself mixes with the aftertaste of his come that was still lingering on your tongues.

“You can sleep over,” he assures when he breaks the lazy kiss, knowing what you’d be asking before the words can even leave your mouth, “the guest room is clean and you get dibs.”

“I love you,” your sudden admission surprising both of you, you with how you don’t fully remember forming the thought and him at the suddenness, but he happily laughs in response regardless.

“I love you too,” he pulls you in a more comfortable position as you cuddle against his chest, “just for being you but also for blowing me in a room full of my dumb friends.”

“Probably will never happen again,” your words slur more and more as you speak, the tiredness you felt before you arrived meshing with the exhaustion you feel now.

“I know,” he nuzzles his face against yours as he speaks, “but I enjoyed it while I could.”

#nct smut #wayv smut #Lucas smut

326 notes · View notes

imagine-loki · 4 years ago

Text

Omega Mine

TITLE: Omega Mine

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 1/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Loosely based on: Imagine Loki discovers the Avengers have an omega who has healing powers living with them. He’s an Alpha and he wants her, badly.

RATING: M (eventually )

NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

“Nope, nope, fuck no. Why do all these companies suck?” You grumbled to yourself as you scrolled through job posting after job posting on your laptop. You were sitting on your bed absently eating a slice of pizza in your pajamas while you searched. You were hunting through the job listings looking for a company in search of an Omega.

That wasn’t at all atypical. Businesses that employed a lot of Alphas needed Omegas on staff to help keep the balance and the peace. Betas could only do so much against volatile Alpha tempers.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your current job, but it just wasn’t the right fit. You’d worked at a few different companies since you’d graduated from college. The companies were all glad to have you around, but none of them had felt like the right fit. That was also typical. It took a few tries to find Alphas who really fit and felt like safety and home. It took longer to find such Alphas in an environment where you could use your degree or your magic, or something that made you more than just a typical Omega.

It could take forever or absolutely no time at all to find the Alpha. The one who was your mate and meant to be your love.

You hadn’t had any luck finding your Alpha yet, just as you hadn’t found the right company to work for. You’d temped a couple places as an admin, even though it wasn’t anything to do with your degree. You were now working again as an assistant and getting pretty tired of all omega jobs only being assistants or menial labor. There was nothing of substance. That made sense. Usually, Omegas couldn’t hold higher level positions. Alphas ruled and Omegas were cared for, by nature and by nurture. On the other hand, Omegas were the balance for an Alpha’s temper. They cared for the heart of the people, while the Alphas cared for the physical safety.

Any of the castes could marry any of the others and Omegas finally had some rights in the US, but the world was still highly unfair toward your caste. Omegas couldn’t own a house, for instance, or rent an apartment in your name. You could earn money and have a bank account of your own, thanks to the laws that had passed, but a lot of the world was still stuck in the old ways of thinking Omegas nothing more than pets. Or glorified sex slaves. Thankfully, things were changing slowly, but surely.

You lived in an Omega-house with other unclaimed Omega girls and walked every day to the office nearby where you worked. There was a Beta who acted as house mother as it was determined that Omegas couldn’t be trusted to care for themselves, so you weren’t allowed to live on your own. Despite that you were a college grad with a job.

It was either the Omega-house or still living with your Father. And that wasn’t an option. Not after you’d finally escaped to go to college at one of the universities that had accepted Omega students.

There was a knock on your door. You weren’t expecting anyone, but that didn’t mean one of the other Omega girls didn’t want to come visit, or the Beta coming to check on you. “Coming!” You called and set your piece of pizza back on the plate, wiping your hands quickly as you got to your feet. You padded silently over to the door, your steps light, despite the interruption. You opened the door to see the Beta on the other side. Your new house mother. “Hello, Beta Ann,” you greeted her politely. She was new and stuffy and still old-school enough that she wanted to be addressed by her title every time anyone spoke to her.

She gave you a warm matronly smile. It was a bit condescending. “Hello, dear,” she always spoke down to the Omegas, as if you couldn’t understand what she was saying. “I received your message that you wish to look for a new position?” She made it a question. It was her job to help you find something. Sometimes she could have better connections than the websites that the Omegas could access.

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, ma��am,” you replied politely. She really was stuffy and old schooled, but if she could help you… you’d be polite. “It isn’t that I dislike my position. It’s just… not the right fit,” you explained quickly, hoping she would understand.

She nodded sympathetically and looked over the clipboard she was carrying. “You’ve been in that position six months, I see. Yes, that’s plenty of time to realize it’s not the right fit,” she agreed. She looked up at you again. “I was actually going to speak with you regardless. A position crossed my desk that I thought you would be a good fit for, given your abilities,”

You perked up at that. A position for your abilities? Your skills? Not just because you were an Omega? “Really? What position?” You asked eagerly. You tried not to appear too eager. That would be impolite. It was a tentative balance.

“There is a group who is looking for an Omega. It’s a live-in position. All room and board is covered on top of a generous salary. They are specifically looking for someone with medical background and your healing abilities are very appealing to them,”

Medical background and healing?

And a proper home?

It sounded absolutely perfect.

“I’m definitely interested, ma’am,” you told her brightly.

She nodded her agreement. “Very good, dear. I’ll let them know and set up the interview for you. I’m sure it will just be a formality,”

Most Omega interviews were. The Alphas in charge didn’t need to interview, not really. They just needed to catch your scent or psychic scent and determine if you would fit in with their tempers and soothe their needs.

“Thank you, ma’am,” you told her politely. She gave you another condescending smile before she left you to set things up.

A few days later, you found yourself in front of your mirror adjusting your suit’s jacket for the billionth time before your interview. The suit looked good on you, and professional. Though you still knew that you had that Omega air about you. An Alpha or Beta could identify you on scent, on sight, even without the collar around your neck.

All Omegas were required to wear a collar once they presented as an Omega. Puppies (children) presented their secondary gender, their caste, officially toward the end of puberty, usually around 16 or 17 years old. There were usually signs before that of what a puppy would be when they matured and you’d heard that there was a test that puppies could take now to determine what they would present as.

The collar you wore was the generic collar every Omega wore until they were claimed by an Alpha. It was silver and plain, thin, not heavy at all, but you would never forget it was there, not since the day it had been locked on. Only an Alpha could remove it. And only your Alpha would, when you were claimed and mated, only to put his or her own collar on in its place. It was still a holdover from the old laws. You’d never gotten a good answer as to why. You always got some bullshit reason about knowing who to protect. Omegas were more rare than Alphas or Betas, so you weren’t surprised the law hadn’t changed.

There was nothing you could do about it. And it wasn’t ugly. But it did single you out as an unclaimed Omega. Especially at your age. There was no specific age to find your Alpha, but most Omegas you knew your own age were already claimed.

You knew it made you a target. You could be claimed against your will, mated against you will, if you didn’t already have an Alpha. That didn’t mean you were going to settle.

That was also why the company was sending a car to pick you up for your interview. Beta Ann had said that a Beta security guard from the company to escort you safely to and from the interview.

You made sure you had your phone in your purse as well as your resume before you headed out of the house. You said goodbye to Beta Ann and only left once the Beta security guard, a many named Happy of all things, rang the bell to collect you.

Your eyes widened when you saw the limo that was waiting to take you to the interview. What the hell kind of company was this? The information hadn’t been passed along to you. You didn’t know of Beta Ann knew or not. She didn’t deem it important enough information to tell you if she did know.

Happy opened the limo’s door for you and you thanked him softly and politely as you took the seat inside. He gave you the warm smile everyone gave Omegas. They couldn’t help it. Your presence was soothing to everyone. He shut the door behind you and got in the driver’s seat. Soon you were driving through the city, toward the city center. You watched out the window with interest, curious as to where this company could be. What this company could be.

You didn’t know what you were expecting.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t your limo stopping at the VIP parking in front of the Avengers’ tower. It wasn’t the press that were staked out to catch pictures of the superheroes and anyone who came to visit the tower. It wasn’t Happy parking in that VIP section and coming around to open your door again for you.

The Avengers.

You were interviewing for the Avengers.

You couldn’t believe your luck. This really was the perfect opportunity.

You understood immediately that this was a test.

An Omega who couldn’t handle the press, couldn’t handle the surprise of showing up at the tower, who broke down at any little uncertainty or surprise, wasn’t an Omega that would work out for the team and wouldn’t be what they needed.

Desperately in your soul, you knew that this was what you needed and you vowed to do anything in your power to make sure you got this job.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #Omega mine #chapter 1 #nekoamamori

102 notes · View notes

syubub · 4 years ago

Text

YOONGI SOULMATE READING

Disclaimer~tarot is speculative and this is my interpretation of energy. Take it with a grain of salt.

Honey boi time. Strap down because this one is wild. Kinda. And soft. Really really soft. And a little creepy. Buckle in.

So for starters Yoon has a dark, royal blue color energy. It isn't as opaque as Koos was but it was very... thick? Like its not that it wasn't opaque from a lack of energy but rather that kinda had clear energy mixed in too?? It was really pretty and its kinda like the more you look at it the deeper it gets?

It was kinda like this but deeper? And it was almost reflective and "sparkly" idk put it was real pretty.

So first thing to note. Yoon is always easy for me to connect with so he didn't have any barriers put up or whatever so when I was going towards him he was in red flannel pj bottoms and I was like, "am I missing something?" But no. He was just being comfy I guess? Now usually when I connect with energy of a person there's this like eternal tree trunk rope colum thing of energy or something that I kinda follow and then there's little platforms that they're on? I always have my back facing the energy colum thing when I connect.

That was not the case this time. Yoon essentially led me to his side to face the energy trunk? And he was like, "its weird on this side, huh?" ??? Hello, sir. What the fuck. This to me hints that maybe he is also going out and consciously connecting to energies? Idk man. But I was like, "yeah, it is kinda weird" It only gets weirder.

Next I was facing yoon and I was like hey I want to read your soulmate and gave him like a big ole energy marble expecting that to kinda get the connection going but the only thing I heard from his soulmate was "I can't tell you" like shit. And then he dissolved my energy offering? Oki. And I essentially couldn't connect with his soulmate at all. Anyway, I floated off the little platform thing (that was real bizarre) and yoongi connected with me.

His soulmates energy wasn't present at all but I was told to continue any way. Now for in my opinion the creepiest part. So, keep in mind yoons is actively connected to me and I was like, "well, if your soulmate isn't here then please guide me to what deck I should use for their personality signifier and he pointed me to the fountain tarot.

I started shuffling and after I did one bridge shuffle and split it to do another one he was like, "hey, you're gonna get temperance reverse fyi" and I was like hahaha no. And he was like, "no. Listen to me. Bridge twice, hand shuffle twice and split into two. And you'll get temperance rev. Turn it ride side up when it comes out" I was like okay but you crazy. Tarot doesn't work like that

Guess what fucking came up? TEMPERANCE REVERSED when I tell you I freaked out I mean I fuckin freaked. I know it sounds made up or unbelievable and if I didn't see it happen I'd say its fake but FUCK DUDE. So i asked my pendulum if it should be reverse and it was like no, flips that shit. And I swear to God yoongi was laughing at me for being spooked like the smug ass that he is.

Now

First note I wrote was sagittarius energy. This person has sagittarius energy. Yep yep yep. This person balances him out. Temperance is the card of sagittarius. Heavy fire influence in the cart.

Oki now onto personality explained. I got 3 of coins, the heirophant, ace of wands and the magician. This person is very spiritual and has been manifesting him (they’ve manesfesting eachother but I'll get to that later?) This is a person that values knowledge and is very creative and has a lot of quick ideas. This person also really values communication of knowledge. Loves to get it loves to share it. Probably the person that can tell you a stupid fact about almost anything.

We also have networked, storyteller, god and mentor. This is someone who loves to teach people about what they've learned. They like to share the wisdom (with the god card im inclined to say that they share spiritual wisdom but I don't see it as a career?) This person values communication and collecting knowledge.

Now, on to relationship. We have wheel of fortune, justice, ace of wands and the lovers. This relationship has been in the works on a spiritual level for a long time. They’ve been actively manifesting eachother. We know Yoon is at least a little psychic so this makes sense. This relationship is founded in balance. They treat eachother as equals. I also wrote, "certainly something devine". They have a witty rapport and its so so so loving! They have really good communication and respect for eachother! They are also good at keeping eachither accountable.

Now for this person's career. They’ve been going through a change so their career is undecided. There was likely a period of depression that put a pause on their career? But there's also the queen of coins which suggests that they will be making good money. Now, I chose 3 clarity cards on the queen of coins to help me figure out where this money will be coming from and I drew three more coin cards so this means this person is on the cusp of making some good money soon!

Now we have answer the call, awakening and share your voice. They are being called to be together. Again yoon is woke af and apparently so is his soulmate. The picture i get is like when they finally meet they're both a little shy because they've been connecting with eachothers energies and they're like, "whos gonna bring it up?" Like they are finally out of hiding when they meet. Its cute as fuck.

Oki. We have answered prayers, spiritual path and make time for self care. THEY ARE MANIFESTING EACHOTHER. They are a woke pair and the energy is so sturdy and solid. I also get the sense that they engage in self care together? Like they'll make sure to take care of themselves spiritual and physical. I also think that they would be that type of couple to have a mad bath bomb collection.

Side note: while I was doing this I got like a cute little picture in my head of them sitting on the couch in pj's and facemasks with towels on their heads sipping wine and that makes me soft.

Now onto the message from his soulmate cards. So we have release all anger, new idea, be positive, take a shot, Have you eaten? You're acting like a big ass baby and shit is going down with your job. Now. I made a note that this is from Yoon to his soulmate? Um, sir? But oki, yoon makes the rules. What I get from this is that his soulmate is currently going through some job related stuff and he's saying, "hey, its okay to start over. Do that thing you've been wanting to do for a while" he wants his soulmate to stop focusing on what isn't going right and just start fresh. I also lowkey think he's like, you need to just fucking chill. The world isn't imploding just because something isn't working out. Its very reassuring and it feels like he wants to comfort them. Cute

Let's talk about the descriptors now. Yoon was very picky with these? Which confused me. They don't know eachother in person is the vibe im getting and I don't think yoon has ever seen this person either? I think maybe he's had dreams of his soulmate? Idk but the cards are: quality time, fashionable, unique, free spirit, independent, short hair, younger, sweet, charming. I also made a note for brown hair and a masculine chart.

For my little word cards we have, fate, vows, serendipity and loyalty. WE GET IT. YOURE ADORABLE TOGETHER

"All men should learn before they die, what they are running from and to and why" is the little fortune. I think that this is yoon telling his soulmate to do some shadow work? Like find out why you do the things you do, why certain things anger you ect.

Now at this point I was told that I had to use the small deck to get more cards about the relationship. I was like "I already did that but whatever" and I did. I pulled 10 of cups, 2 of cups and the lovers again. WHAT. THE. FUCK. This is the most romantic and soulmatey soulmate reading ever. 10 of cups is emotional fulfillment. This is just everything. Everything! 2 of cups is romance, unified love. Its also about partnership. They work so well together. And the lovers card. Love, relationships and harmony. Oh my god its fucking nuts.

Now onto the final card. Again. Very very very clearly told that this is for his soulmate. We have, the perfection of your life. This card talks about a spiritual storm coming to shake things up in order to put things to put things back in perfect order. A quote I like from the book is, "all is unfolding to a perfect higher order." This to me kinda sums it up well. Shit is about to get crazy for his soulmate and its not a bad thing. Change is need for this person and there is change coming that will stir every thing up and place it back in better places. Ugh. I can't. He wants his soulmate not to fear the storm but rather embrace it and know that positive change will come out of it.

Last part. When the reading is over I always disconnect and essentially put the energy back? This time on yoons little platform (I sound like a lunatic trying to describe some of this shit I swear) I was like, "hey thanks for being cooperative and being so active and involved i appreciate that." And then he gave me an energy marble ball thing too? I was like, "thanks but what the fuck" and then I did what he did when I gave him the marble ball energy thing in the beginning and just... put it in my energy? Like thats what he did? so is that like an energy custom that I don't know about? Wtf. My best guess is that I gave him an offering of energy and he gave me some in return at the end? And then the little shit just dissappears? MIN YOONGI I HAVE QUESTIONS YOU CAN'T JUST DISSAPPEAR??

But he did. And that was the end. It was super fucking bizarre. So for say joo I connected to his soulmate through him. So it was a connection with the soulmate but hosted by joons energy? For Jk his soulmate gave me a direct link which was new and awesome but for Yoongi it was just a very direct connection with him. Just him.

That really tells me that he knows his soulmate well on a soul level and his soulmate literally said, "I can't tell you"

I'm confused but very happy for him!

Yoon is a very soft and sweet man, pass it on

#bts #bts tarot #bts reactions #bts rm #jungkook #seokjin #taehyung #bts imagines #yoongi #bts jhope #min suga #suga #jimin

244 notes · View notes

jaskierswolf · 4 years ago

Text

A Thirst Like Flames

Part 3/6 (1, 2 - 4)

Ship: Gerlion - Rated: E (for smut) - Also on AO3

CW specific for this chapter: voyeurism, exhibitionism, Dandelion/female OC, sex work. (Can you guess what happens?)

Summary: There was an itch prickling over Dandelion’s skin, a constant ache in the pit of his stomach and his mind felt hazy at all hours of the day. He watched the sun creep behind the horizon, quill in hand, the long feather brushing against his cheek, willing for some kind of inspiration, anything to distract him from the never ending lust. He couldn’t help it, he was a young man in his prime and he’d spent the last few months in the wilderness with a rather gorgeous witcher.

The arrangement, as Dandelion had begun to think of it, was working well. With his ballads gaining popularity over the continent, his coin purse was beginning to fill out. Not that it stopped them from sharing rooms at inns, but occasionally he or Geralt would actually manage to visit a brothel to sate their needs. Masturbation was wonderful but even that was a short term solution. Occasionally one just needed to good tumble in the sheets, and Dandelion always made sure he paid for the night. He enjoyed the afterglow of sex just as much as the act itself, and even though he was paying them, he enjoyed waking up in his lover’s arms, but mostly the pair of them got each other off in the mornings or just before bed, whenever the need arose, and if they had the coin they’d visit a brothel. It worked for them.

The life of a witcher and that of a travelling bard did share one thing in common.

It wasn’t easy to settle down.

And honestly, neither of them wanted to. Geralt kept bemoaning that witcher’s were not meant for love and family, whereas Dandelion’s wanderlust seemed to bleed through into matters of the heart. How anyone could be happy with just one lover, he would never understand. There were so many beautiful people out there just waiting to be adored, it would be a bloody shame to deny them the opportunity.

Dandelion tried not to think about how he always returned to Geralt, be it in the mornings or evenings. He tried not to think of how, despite his wishes for freedom, he had essentially tethered himself to the witcher.

He tried not to think of how easy it would be to fall in love with him.

It was easier not to think about it.

“Geralt?” he called to the witcher.

Geralt looked across from where he was riding Roach. Dandelion’s own gelding was shorter than the mare, a chestnut horse that had nothing on Roach but it was better than walking everywhere. Geralt had been good at not riding too fast, but Dandelion’s feet were constantly sore and blistered by the end of the day. At least this way he could switch between riding and walking.

Gods, by the end of the year his thighs would be like tree trunks. He’d never exercised so much in his life before. The life of a viscount in training had been cushy, and his life as a student hadn’t been much harder. It was all desks and fancy chairs, the occasional lecture room with firm wooden benches.

In fact, the most exercise he’d had before had probably been in the bedroom.

Oh, how things had changed.

“We should visit a brothel in the next town, my friend,” Dandelion suggested.

To his surprise, Geralt shook his head. Dandelion pouted, ready to launch into a sonnet about the carnal delights that could be found waiting for them in the bed of a whore… or even two, but Geralt cut him off. “I need to stock up on potion ingredients, and the last contract didn’t pay well thanks to a certain bard.”

Dandelion flushed, averting his gaze. It hadn’t been his fault. He didn’t know that the gorgeous lady he’d been flirting with had been the Alderman’s wife. Was he supposed to be psychic? Not everyone had Geralt’s keen witcher’s senses, he hadn’t exactly been able to smell the mingling of their scents, as Geralt had described it. Dandelion was half convinced the witcher was making that up. There was no way he’d been able to smell that.

Although….

Geralt had mentioned he could smell when someone had orgasmed.

“I’ll have you know, that I am not to blame, dear witcher! If she was happily taken then she should have refused my advances. How the bloody hell was I supposed to know that she was married? She kept looking at me with those eyes, the colour of forget-me-nots, and cheeks like roses. She was practically begging me to take her to bed.”

Geralt snorted. “You can go to a brothel, I won’t stop you, my friend, but I don’t have the coin. I’ll stay in the woods outside of town and you can meet me at dawn. Don’t be late.”

Dandelion rolled his eyes and sniffed haughtily as he adjusted his hat with one hand. “Nonsense! We’ll just have to share.”

“Share?”

“A whore, obviously Geralt, do try to keep up.”

Geralt pulled Roach to a halt and Dandelion had to circle round as he trotted ahead. He peered at the witcher, quirking his eyebrow. “What?”

“You want to share a whore?”

Dandelion sighed dramatically, holding the reins in one hand as he flicked out a wrist in a flourish. “It’s cheaper and that way neither of us will need to camp out. It’s a practical and pleasurable solution. Come on, Geralt, when was the last time you had the soft flesh of a woman’s thighs around your waist, the feel of her breasts in your hands.”

“Shut up, Dandelion,” Geralt growled and spurred Roach onwards.

Dandelion chimed a laugh, and followed after his witcher. “So is that a yes? Geralt! Geralt come back!”

____________

It was a yes, even though Geralt never said the word. He never enjoyed the way Dandelion waxed poetry about women, as if they were a rose to be viewed purely for their beauty. He never admired the male figure in quite the same way. Whilst the poet wasn’t ashamed of his love of men, he only openly spoke of women as his lovers, occasionally omitting the gender altogether if he deemed it necessary.

Geralt had never really understood the need to hide. He didn’t exactly advertise his attraction to men, it was easier, not to mention cheaper, to hire a female whore after all, but he didn’t make the same effort that Dandelion did to hide it. Although, the bard in all his flamboyant gestures and colourful silk clothes did portray the more stereotypical dandy type.

And arseholes were less likely to actually try and attack a witcher, unless they were drunk or downright idiotic. Some thought that besting a witcher would impress whatever girl they had their eyes on, but Geralt was fairly good at discreetly using Axii to convince them that it wasn’t worth the fight.

Although, he had to admit, he did enjoy a good brawl, and the fighting rings were a good source of extra income when they were running low.

He sighed, pressing his fingers to his forehead. Perhaps he should have sought out the local fighting ring instead of going along with Dandelion’s ridiculous plan of sharing a whore, but there was no denying that he could use a good fuck. He was half-tempted to push the poet up against the nearest tree and fuck the living daylights out of him, but they didn’t do that. Quick hand jobs in the forest were a far cry from getting fucked against a tree.

But Dandelion was growing ever more tempting with every day that passed. Geralt knew the way the poet’s breathing hitched in his throat just before he came. He knew the way he would bite his lips in a fruitless effort to keep quiet, the obscene sounds of his moans that rang out in the night. Geralt knew how those cornflower blue eyes looked when he was hungry with lust, the scent of his arousal permeating the air until it was all that Geralt could smell. He knew how the bard’s cock felt in his hands, as Dandelion cried out, Geralt’s name falling from his lips like a prayer.

But he didn’t know how his lips tasted. He didn’t know whether Dandelion’s swan-like neck was as sensitive as he imagined. He could only guess at how beautiful it would look with an array of bruises and bite-marks left behind by Geralt’s mouth. He didn’t know how Dandelion’s cock would feel in his mouth, a taste of his cum.

And he wanted to know.

Fuck, he wanted to know everything.

If he hadn’t been taught from such a young age that witchers didn’t feel, he might have begun to think that he was falling in love with the poet.

But that was off the cards. It was just sex, hell, it wasn’t even that. They were friends, companions on the road.

And it was cheaper to share a whore.

“Greetings!” Dandelion trilled, giving the madame his most charming smile. The poet winked as he slid some coin across the bar. “We’d like to share, if that’s acceptable?”

The madame glanced between Geralt and his poet, looking decidedly unimpressed. He supposed they made a strange sight. The two of them couldn’t be more different in looks. Geralt with his dull black armour, two swords, and harsh demeanour, versus the colourful bard with hair the colour of golden corn, shiny burgundy silk clothes, and a lute strapped to his back.

They were the moon and the sun.

But, as the saying went, opposites attract.

And fuck, Geralt was attracted to the bard, too attracted. Dandelion would only get hurt by his side but Geralt was too weak to let him go, not whilst he wanted to stay, and Geralt hoped he would stay for a long time yet. The path had been so cold before Dandelion. He steadfastly ignored Vesemir’s warnings about getting attached to humans. A witcher’s lifespan far exceeded that of a human, if they survived the monsters of course.

It was better to settle for whores and one night stands. Geralt had never had a problem before, but being the Butcher of Blaviken was enough to put most humans off. No one had even attempted to befriend him since Renfri.

His friends were dwarves, druids and sorceresses. Although, that last one was still to be determined. The graduates of Aretuza were as prickly as they were powerful, manipulating the world and its people more skilfully than any politician, spy or monarch.

“You want to share with the witcher?” the madame asked, doubt ringing clear in her voice.

“I want to share with my friend, but we’d be happy to take our business elsewhere. A town like this must have more than one brothel,” Dandelion snapped, putting both hands on his hips, his charming air vanishing in an instant.

“No need, I have just the girl for you.”

Dandelion’s shiny smile was back, brighter than before, blinding Geralt and making his stomach twist in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“Excellent!” the poet cheered with a clap of his hands, “Show us the way!”

Dandelion’s hair shone in the candlelight, bouncing as he quickly turned around to wink at Geralt. There was a sparkle in his eyes that seemed to light up the entire room. The poet’s tongue flicked out between his lips, and, not for the first time, Geralt wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

“Isn’t this a lovely establishment, my dear friend?” Dandelion wittered on, and Geralt ignored the weird stab of pain in his heart at the word friend. They were friends, just friends.

Friends.

Maybe if he repeated it enough then he would begin to believe it.

“It’s a brothel,” he said, his voice sounding dull compared to the warm tenor of his friend.

“Yes, yes, and it’s a rather lovely brothel. If you ignore the smell of sweat. Oh, but that must be even worse for you!” Dandelion exclaimed, looking horrified. Geralt shrugged. It did stink, but he was used to focussing on the nicer smells in places like this. They tended to burn incense, and here was no exception. The floral scent of freesia masked the worst of the sweat and sex, but Geralt focused on the pretty poet next to him. Dandelion still preferred the scented lavender oil in his hair. Before Dandelion, for Geralt’s life now existed as before and after Dandelion, lavender had not been a scent that he enjoyed. It was too strong, and reminded him of the sleeping drafts they used at Kaer Morhen before the mutagens…

But now it was the scent of Dandelion.

Mixed with chamomile and the poet’s natural musk, Geralt had grown rather fond of lavender.

Instead of saying all of this, he just muttered “I manage.”

Dandelion just wrinkled his nose, seemingly disgusted with the whole idea. Geralt couldn’t help the faint smile. It warmed his heart to know how much his friend cared about him, about the whole world in which they lived. Dandelion loved the world and in turn the world loved him back.

It was how it should be.

They were led through to one of the rooms on the second floor. It was cramped but nicely decorated. A pretty young blonde was lying on the bed, her fingers in the middle of braiding her long hair. She glanced up when she saw them, dark blue eyes looking up through thick black lashes.

And all Geralt could think of was that the colour was wrong.

Too dark.

The colour of a stormy ocean instead of the cornflower blue he’d grown used to.

There were freckles dusting her cheeks, and scattering down her neck below the bodice of her dress. She was slender, like Dandelion, but she lacked the muscles his poet had gained over the year…

Geralt cursed.

Winter was fast approaching and he’d been heading north soon, towards Kaer Morhen… towards home. He wondered where the poet would go for winter, perhaps to Oxenfurt. He always spoke of the city fondly.

“Geralt?” a strong hand on his arm snapped him out of his thoughts.

He blinked, the girl was still on the bed, looking more than displeased. He mumbled an apology for his rudeness.

“Can’t say that’s the best welcome I’ve had,” she muttered “I can get another girl if you’d prefer.”

“Nonsense!” Dandelion exclaimed. “He’s just tired, isn’t that right, my dear?”

Geralt nodded.

“See, nothing to worry about!” the poet trilled. “Now, how do you want us?”

“You shared before?”

They both shook their heads.

“I thought so, you can always tell,” she said, swiftly untangling the braid in her hair until it fell loosely down her back. “Are you taking turns or sharing?”

Geralt looked at Dandelion, it had been the poet’s idea and so the decision fell to him. Dandelion hummed, his tongue sticking between his lips as he considered, then he turned back to look at Geralt, tilting his head, one hand on his hip. “What do you think, darling? Would you be happy to watch?”

Geralt swallowed, the thought of watching his bard fuck another person should have bothered him… but instead he found himself growing hard in his trousers. He could already imagine the sinful things that Dandelion would say, the dirty poems and rhymes he would wax as he bedded the beautiful whore in front of them.

The bard was rumoured to be an unparalleled lover, and Geralt wanted to know, wanted to see why.

He nodded, barely looking at the girl, unable to tear his gaze from his friend as the pair of them stripped out of their clothes. Travelling together meant that Geralt had seen Dandelion naked many a time, but never like this. When they touched each other, they never took off more than necessary.

Marie, as the girl told them, pulled Dandelion to the bed, running her hands down his chest as she straddled his hips. Dandelion gazed up at her like she was a gift from the gods. He looked at her like he’d seen the sun for the first time. It made Geralt feel sick. He knew what it felt like to be caught under the poet’s gaze, how it felt to bask under the warmth of his affection.

Geralt should have realised that it wasn’t meant for just him.

“Oh, you are just stunning, darling, radiant as spring,” Dandelion cooed, fingers trailing down Marie’s spine. Geralt saw her shiver. He knew that whore’s often pretended to enjoy the company of their clients but Geralt could smell her genuine arousal mixing with the bard’s. Dandelion’s long fingers danced across her skin as she rolled her hips forward, making the poet sigh happily. Geralt could hear the spike in Dandelion’s pulse, as his breath hitched in his throat. Marie gasped as Dandelion cupped her breast.

Geralt was growing achingly hard in his trousers. He knew his turn was next.. but… he was also a witcher. His stamina was… a lot and if he wanted to cum without exhausting Marie then he really should start.

“Do you want me to ride you, poet?” Marie purred, her hands splayed on Dandelion’s chest.

Geralt hoped his bard would say yes. The way he was lying back on the bed with his hair fanned out behind him was enticing. Geralt could easily imagine Dandelion pinned underneath him as he fucked the bard.

Or maybe even fucked himself on Dandelion’s cock.

He hadn’t bottomed very often, most men assumed the witcher would top and Geralt didn’t really care enough to correct them, but suddenly the idea of Dandelion fucking him became the only thing he could think about. The poet’s long, clever fingers opening him up, brushing against his prostate. He growled, palming himself through his trousers. The sound drew Dandelion’s attention, and the poet fucking winked at him.

“What would you prefer, darling?” Dandelion asked, his voice hoarse, losing its usual smooth musical timbre.

Geralt felt too hot under Dandelion’s burning gaze. It was everything he wanted and yet not enough. “Ride him,” he choked out.

Marie laughed, and then reached between her thighs to coat her fingers before stroking the poet’s cock. Dandelion’s wanton moan echoed in the room, the sound going straight to Geralt’s aching cock. He growled and rushed to unlace his trousers, a hiss escaping his lips as he took himself in hand. Dandelion swore as Marie lowered herself onto him, both whore and poet gasping at the feeling. The scent of their joined arousal was almost too much.

She rode Dandelion with the enthusiasm that only a whore could have, moaning and whining and gasping as she fucked herself. Dandelion’s fingers gripped into the soft muscles of her thighs, thrusting into her, a string of poetic nonsense falling from his lips.

Geralt couldn’t look away.

He fisted his cock in time to their movements, imagining it was him that made Dandelion moan so sinfully.

It had been before, but fuck… this was a whole new level.

The way their bodies moved as one, the sounds of flesh slapping together, sweat glistening on the poet’s skin. Geralt’s eyes caught a bead of sweat trickling down Dandelion’s neck and he was hypnotised. He wanted to lick the droplet from the poet’s skin, taste the salt on his tongue, bite down on the muscles of Dandelion’s neck as he keened, his orgasm shuddering through his body.

Marie must have noticed where Geralt was looking because she leaned forward to kiss Dandelion’s neck. The poet’s breath caught, and he cried out, thrusts losing their rhythm as he came.

“Fuck, Geralt…” he moaned, just as he would when they touched each other in the woods.

Marie gasped wordlessly, fingers gripping into the sheets, but Geralt was too focussed on his bard.

His bard.

His poet.

His Dandelion.

For Dandelion was his, there was no denying it now. It was one thing for the poet to say Geralt’s name when he was the cause of his orgasm, but that had not been the case.

Geralt almost pitied Marie.

She hadn’t deserved it.

“Oh fuck,” Dandelion whined as his head hit the pillow. He was breathing heavily, his fingers tracing patterns into Marie’s thighs, and Geralt was reminded of the way that Dandelion’s fingers would dance over the strings of his lute when he played in the taverns.

He closed his eyes, gripping his cock tighter in his hand. His pleasure was still building slowly, as it always did, but his mind was spiralling and he felt unable to relax. His muscles were tense and he gritted his teeth.

“Your turn, witcher,” Marie called from the bed, “unless you’d rather fuck the poet. He won’t mind.”

“I’m fine,” he growled.

“But Geralt,” Dandelion pouted as he turned to face Geralt, cheeks still flush and rosy.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Geralt muttered, doing up his trousers and stalking from the room. “Dawn, Dandelion.”

“Dawn, yes, of course. I’ll be there.”

Geralt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, jealousy was raging through him like poison. He knew that Dandelion had thought of him, and yet suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. Why hadn’t Dandelion said something? Geralt had been right there, every damn day for months, and yet the poet, famous for his inability to shut up, never said a fucking word.

It had taken a whore to make the truth spill from his lips.

And Geralt wasn’t even sure whether Dandelion had meant to tell him. What did he expect from Geralt? Was Geralt supposed to forget it, pretend it never happened? Or maybe Dandelion had been expecting Geralt to take up Marie’s offer…

And he’d run away.

“Fuck!” he yelled, startling a nearby cat as it was washing itself. The creature hissed and spat at him, clawing at the air. Geralt paid it no attention and carried on walking towards the stables to fetch Roach. He would make camp in the woods, and hopefully Dandelion would be there in the morning.

Geralt wasn’t sure what he’d do if the poet decided not to show.

#the witcher #gerlion #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #geralt of rivia #julian alfred pankratz #dandelion #wolfie's witcher writing

25 notes · View notes

descendantofthesparrow · 4 years ago

Text

Shuffle Playlist - Rewrite - Part of Your World - Part 8 - Fights and Sisters

Mal lifted her foot into the air as she leaned to her right to get the perfect curve of Evie's hair, biting her lip in concentration as she listened to the calming sounds of a spray-paint can fill the room. she clicked her heel as she leaned back onto the box she was standing on and nodded to herself, the mural for her friends was almost done, the last thing she had to do was add detail and she would be done.

“At least I don’t see myself with horns and a pitchfork” Mal spun around with a gasp, holding up her can defensively as she looked onto the sheepish Ben who stood before her.

He waited for her to lower the can, but Mal didn’t budge, keeping her finger on the spray mechanic. “Mal-“ Ben took a step forward, stopping as Mal shook the can threateningly, her eyes staring into Bens with a warning to back off.

“How’d you get here” Mal whispered, she had thought it would take just a bit longer for her friends to get here, she wasn’t ready to face them again.

“I- Mal I’m so sorry about the fight, it was all my fault” Mal shook her head defiantly, no, it wasn’t Ben's fault, not completely, it was hers too.

“How.did.you.get.here” Mal stressed, shaking the can again as if it was a weapon.

“The limo, Jay drove us-“ us. That meant Evie was here, Carlos too, god she hoped Cruella and EQ didn’t know they were here.

“Of course,” she muttered, chucking her can to the floor, seeing Ben flinch out of the corner of her eye, but she ignored it, kicking her old makeshift stool over and growling.

They were her family, why did she think they would take a week to come get her, of course it would only be hours before they found her. But she just needed to escape for a bit, she didn’t want to stay on the isle, not after she crossed the barrier again, but once inside there was no way out, not without the remote.

She was happy that they came to get her because that meant they cared enough to do so, but she wasn’t ready to go back to the craziness of Auradon just yet.

“Mal” Ben started again, attempting to walk up to her but stopping as she held up her hands. “please come home” he held out his class ring, the one Mal hadn't taken off since his coronation.

She stared at him for a moment, trying to figure how to word what she wanted to say ‘(y/n) did always say I had a habit of saying things the wrong way’ she scoffed at herself, shaking her head. “Ben….I-“ she shook her hands in frustration “im-not gah!” Ben blinked in surprise as she suddenly yelled and shook her head and arms “words! Ben!” he jumped as she yelled out his name, she calmed herself with a deep breath "I am home….you’ve said before that home is where you feel like you can be yourself well”

she held her arms out, gesturing to the hideout “this is it; this is where I feel most comfortable, in leather, with purple hair, with my knife in my sleeve, baring my teeth when someone looks at me funny, swearing to my heart's content because fuck it!” she let her arms go limp and felt them smack against her thighs. She sniffed, feeling her nose burn “Ben, I love Auradon, I love the skies, I love the food, I love the school but….but it's just-”

she lifted her hands up again, her frustration showing in her face and hands as they clenched “I couldn’t even blink without someone in my face asking me about my mother!!” Ben glanced to his left, seeing a large tank with the tiny black and purple dragon sitting on a mini cloth couch, small puffs of green smoke exiting through its muzzle, her toxic green eyes locked onto his form.

“ or bugging me about me being the lady of the fucking court!! Ben, I don’t know what you expected from me but HOW did you expect me to be able to just flip a switch and turn into this perfect pink princess who always smiles and-“

“I never asked you to change!” Ben yelled, finally shutting Mal up “I didn’t want you to become a perfect Auradon girl Mal! I wanted you! I wanted the girl that told Chad fuck off, I wanted the girl that was adorably possessive of her strawberries, I wanted the girl that growled at people when they stepped to close to Evie or Carlos, I wanted the girl that fought Jay for six hours about the logics of lightsabers, I wanted the girl that jumped off the dorm building because Carlos dared her, I wanted the girl that chewed on her hair because it smelled like grape juice!” Ben panted, giving a small smile to Mal as she stared at him in shock “I wanted you Mal, I didn’t want you to change.”

Mal was silent for a few moments, eyes drifted from Bens once more outstretched hand to his eyes. She took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. “Then why didn’t you say anything” she muttered in a wavering voice. Ben's heart dropped, his body slumping as he looked into Mals watering eyes. “Not once did you ask ‘Hey what happened to my hair’ ‘hey, why that dress’ ‘hey, what happened to your leather’. Not once did you ever SAY you liked my purple hair better, or my leather clothes, or anything like that, you just stood by and smiled, because you are always in this happy glitter world where everything is good.

Well, it's not Ben! I was stressed out of my mind about everything. I could hardly eat because I was always reading those damn etiquette books, I was up every night till four am studying because I was so tired from learning fucking which spoon to use for soup that I couldn’t keep up my grades anymore, I failed art class did you know that?! no! because you didn’t ask!” Mal panted as she tried to catch her breath, Ben shook his head and stomped his food slightly.

“I shouldn’t need to ask! You should tell me about this kinda stuff I’m your boyfriend! I’m not psychic Mal! I don’t know what's going on in your brain, that’s not my job!!” Mal shook her hands in frustration, her headache returning as her eyes glowed slightly.

“that is-GAH! I’m not saying it's your job! Do you think I know what's going in my fucked-up brain Ben?! It’s a fucking labyrinth that I only just started to navigate! I’m fucked up Ben! And I’m sorry if you can't handle it because I can't either! I’m trying to be better but if you don’t help then I’m never GOING to be better! And before you say anything, I don’t mean help me be the perfect Auradon girl I mean help to be a better me!”

She harshly patted her chest to accentuate her words “call me out on my bullshit, call me out when I say the wrong thing, call me out when I hurt your feelings! I've needed help since I turned against my mother, I don’t know what I’m doing Ben, I needed someone to guide me to be a better person yet all I've gotten is (y/n) being the only person in the universe to notice that I’m imploding!” Mal covered her face with her hands and sighed “Ben, you make me so happy, but-but….you don’t notice anything about me, not really”

Ben tilted his head in confusion, shrugging as he did so “what the hell does that mean? I always pay attention to you!”

“Not really” Mal sobbed, making Ben stop…Mal never cried “Ben I’m was so fucking confused and stressed about…everything, and not one time did you ask ‘are you okay’, and-and I know I lied to you about using my magic but-what harm did it do? I didn’t spell you to think I was perfect, or anybody else! Just items to help myself because I’m not a superhuman who can do everything at once with no-fault! So what I used a speed-reading spell, or a blonde hair spell, or a food spell?! I understand why you are mad about it, because yes! I lied to you about what I was doing and how I was doing it, but even if I never told you, would you have found out?!” Ben sighed, holding his hands up.

“let me calm down, I don’t want this to turn into a screaming match, because if it does (y/n)’s gonna come up here and hurt us” Mal let out a breath like laugh, taking a step back and hugging herself.

After a few moments of silence, Ben finally spoke again “I’m sorry Mal” she looked up at him, a single tear trailing down her cheek “you’re right, I should have noticed you weren’t okay, because….it is my job as your boyfriend to take care of you, and I didn’t do that…I had the same problem with Audrey, sometimes she would come back from her grandparents place a wreck, but put up a front to not worry me, and while everyone else noticed, I just looked away as if her problems didn’t exist. I did the same to you, I’m sorry…” Ben looked down at the floor, playing with his fingers nervously. Mal sighed, stepping closer to Ben and rubbing his arm. “I’m sorry too, if I had asked for help months ago all this would have never happened.” Ben looked back up at Mal, holding out the ring.

“Please come back with us” Mal stared at the ring, slowly reaching out to grab it, smiling as she felt the cool metal of the ring. Then she shook her head, placing it back in his hand.

“…we don’t work right now Ben” Ben gaped at her, trying to speak but she held up her hand “listen to me, we don’t work right now, I’m too mentally closed off, and most of the time can’t look past my own nose. I-I need to fix myself before I can be with you in a way that’s not…toxic. Because that’s what this is, it's toxic, we don’t communicate at all and never look past the surface of each other…I need to take myself out of the picture because its what's best for you and myself…if we kept going like we are now it's only going to hurt us in the end…I’m sorry” she closed Bens fingers around the ring and pushed it back towards him. “But I can't do this right now”

“But I love you” Ben whispered, making Mal stop as she turned to the wall “Don’t you love me?”

She was silent for a few moments before she looked back at Ben. “I know that I’m always happy when I see you or even think of you. I know I love my friends; I love Auradon, and I love the idea of us together but….I don’t know if I’m in love with you Ben, I know I love you but….I’m not sure I’m in love yet…I’m sorry”

She turned and walked back to the mural of her friends, sighing as Ben tried to follow her, she turned, shaking her head “Ben you should go…Tell them that I’ll be ready to come back to Auradon in a week okay?” she looked back to the wall, closing her eyes as once again Ben stepped closer “Ben please go, please leave” she stared into Ben’s sad eyes, feeling another tear drop down her cheek and off her jaw.

Ben slowly nodded, stumbling back towards the stairs and leaving the hideout. Mal let out a low sob, leaning against the wall and covering her mouth.

‘This was the right thing to do’ she reminded herself, breaking up with Ben was the best thing for both of them. At least until she got ahold of her own mind.

You looked up as Ben finally descended the stairs again, Mal, like in the movie, not behind him. Evie perked up, walking over to him and looking up towards the hideout “So…Where’s Mal?” Ben shook his head dejected.

“She's not coming back.” Ben muttered, pushing past Evie and Carlos and walking down the alley to get some alone time. You narrowed your eyes, should you follow him? There could be a chance that Uma wouldn’t send anyone to kidnap him…without Harry, you didn’t even know if Uma had a crew, let alone the lost revenge, since Harry's old wharf rats from before were Uma’s crew. You shared a look with Gil and made to start following Ben, but noticed he was already out of your sight.

“How does a scrawny boi like that move so fast?” you muttered, smiling a bit as Gil shrugged and turned back towards the other vks.

“GO AWAY” the makeshift comm system was closed off, leaving Evie staring at the speaker with sad eyes.

You turned back to the alley, seeing a tall figure beginning to walk toward you…that wasn’t Harry, you knew that…who was it then? “guys” you interrupted Jay and Evie's conversation, they turned to you with wide-eyes and raised brows “Ben’s gone”

Evie rushed to your side and called out for Ben “Ben?” no response, but the tall figure continued to move closer “Ben?!” once more no response, but Evie seemed to think the figure was Ben, which you knew it wasn’t….but it also wasn't Harry. Evie sighed in relief and placed her hands on her hips “Ben don’t scare us like that!”

“don’t scare you?!” a teen stepped out of the shadows, his fiery red hair stark against the grunge of the isle walls “but that takes all the fun outta it!”

Yeah, you immediately hated him, you glared at the teen, watching carefully as a monkey chatted away on his shoulder…Jack…that must mean…

Who knew Barbossa could have such a distasteful son?

“Davy” Gil growled, clenching his fists and taking a threatening step towards the smaller teen. Davy glanced at him, his eyes widening for a moment as he looked at Gil's now even larger form.

“What did you do with Ben?!” Jay yelled, Davy pursed his lips in thought before he “miraculously” remembered what had happened only moments before. He turned and pointed down the alley, grinning as Jay grit his teeth at him.

“Oh um, we took him, yeah, and if you want to see him again, have Mal come to the chip shop tonight” he looked at Evie, Carlos, and Jay “Alone” he turned to you, a flirty grin spreading across his face. “Well well, hello beauti-AHHH” as he reached out with his left hand to grab your hand, you grabbed his finger and pushed it back till you heard it crack.

“touch me again and it's your neck next” you growled, smirking as Davy whimpered in pain. Gil let out a laugh, giving a little wave to Davy as he looked at him with wide eyes.

“you should know Davy” Gil snickered “if your names not Harry Hook, you don’t touch (y/n) without a few bones being broken~” Davy paled at the way Gil said it so cheerfully, looking back up at you and squeaking as you gave him a sharp grin, almost reminiscent of Harrys.

Your other hand drew to your waist and you un-did Harry’s hook from your belt and held the pointy end up to Davy's neck “and I don’t mind spilling some blood~” you released Davy's hand and he scrambled back, giving the five of you a scared look before bolting down the alley.

“he’s gonna lie and say he scared us half to death, isn’t he?” you muttered, slipping the hook back on your belt and crossing your arms.

“yep, that’s what he does” Gil sighed, watching as Jay started to climb up the side of the stairs to go tell Mal about Ben.

Smee cursed himself for being old and slow, he had finally made it to Harriet's ship after thirty minutes of walking, and she wasn’t here! His oldest son, Sammy, didn’t know where she was either, only that CJ had told her something and she had left as soon as she was done with work.

His younger sons, the twins, walked up to him and made him sit down, noticing his heavy breathing from overexerting himself “dad please just sit for a while, I’m sure Harriet will be back soon” Smee slowly nodded. But he didn’t want to wait, Harrys freedom and life were at stake.

“my boy, please go out and look for her, I need to speak with her as soon as possible, it's urgent” Sammy furrowed his brows but nodded, turning to the crew and putting Xiaohui, Shan Yu’s daughter, in charge. The girl nodded, turning to the crew and barking orders.

“I'll be back soon dad, Skipper-Sterling, stay with him okay” the twins nodded and turned back to their father mostly distracting him from his worries as they told him about their day.

Smee smiled but the thought of Harry rested in the back of his mind. Oh, how he hoped there was enough time to save him before one of James ‘clients’ decided to take their ‘payment’

“This wouldn't have happened if you didn’t bring him along, what were you thinking?!” Mal yelled, leaning on the wall next to her as she glared at her friends.

You and Gil sat on the couch, watching as the four vks as they argued. “He was going to come with or without us we were just trying to protect him!” Evie reasoned, Carlos shook his head and looked to Evie.

“yeah, and great job we did there huh?!” Evie opened her mouth to argue with Carlos when Jay held his hands up and spoke over them.

“OKAY!...okay” you all turned to Jay “what do we do now?” Mal huffed and stepped down from the archway she was under.

“We” she gestured to the other vks and you “Are not doing anything, this is between Uma and me, and Uma’s a punk, and guess what! Now I have to go fix your mistake!” she grabbed her bag and swung it over her shoulder, gritting her teeth as Carlos stopped her again. “Hey hey, you’re still gonna have to go through whatever crew Uma’s got” Jay nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need us” Mal shrugged.

“Uma said to come alone” Evie sighed and stepped forward.

“Mal come on” she just gave Evie a look and Carlos sighed.

“Uma said to come alone…I don’t know about you guys but I’m not going anywhere” he flopped down on the couch between you and Gil. Mal sighed, looking at her friends. “I know you didn’t mean to get Ben kidnapped” she muttered, finally calming down from her earlier frustration “but that was the stupidest thing any of you have ever done…” Mal glanced at you, sighing “ (y/n), Harry said he’d be at his apartment and Jay could take you there, see you guys later” Mal left the hideout with that. you jumped up and beamed at Jay, who sighed and nodded, gesturing towards the stairs.

“I’m coming with you” Gil muttered, standing up from the couch and following after you and Jay “never bad to have extra muscle” Jay nodded at that and followed you down the stairs, laughing a bit as you skipped some three at a time.

“come on!” you yelled up at them, passing Mal and jumping off the last flight bouncing on your heels as you waited for them

“We’re coming!” Jay yelled, he and Mal making it to the bottom at the same time. “come on” Gil caught up a moment later and you followed Jay down the alley as Mal headed towards the wharf.

“don’t do anything stupid Mal” you called back, smirking as she lifted her arm up and gave you the middle finger.

“Okay, so” Jay stared, keeping a brisk pace as he leads you to Harry's apartment “Harry's place is about ten minutes to and from here, so let's get a move on” you and Gil nodded, easily keeping up with Jay as he took several turns and backways towards Harry's apartment.

Mal took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment to hype herself up. She couldn't afford any mistakes; Bens life was on the line. She pushed open the doors, smirking as the whole restaurant went silent. She dropped it as she made eye contact with Uma “Looser party of one” Uma droned, gesturing to a free table with two seats around it “Right this way please”

Mal rolled her eyes, walking over to her, stopping and catching the chair that Uma slid towards her. Uma chuckled and rose her brow in challenge. Mal twisted the chair around and sat backward on it, setting her arms on the backrest and sighing. She glanced around, eyeing the rest of the pirates that were resting her then finally looking at Uma, whose dark-now almost black- eyes were glaring into hers.

Mal was silent for a moment, contemplating her words as Uma stared into her soul. Mal smirked, leaning on her palm as she attempting to look as if she wasn’t there on business “How's life~?”

Uma chuckled, tilting her head “Oh pretty good, ya know, considering the food shortage and contaminated water” Mal felt her eye twitch at that. How could she have forgotten all the bad stuff on the isle?

Why did she ever ask her friends if they ever wanted to be back on the isle? Of course Evie and Carlos wouldn’t want to come back this place sucked. Mal forced herself to roll her eyes and lean back on her chair a bit “Where is he” Uma ripped off her apron and let it flop on the floor, giving Mal another smirk.

“you know I’ve dreamed of this?” she laughed again, walking over to another table and leaning on it “You wanting something from me, and me watching you squirm like a worm on a hook~” Mal rolled her eyes again.

“I’m flattered, but I’m done trash-talking, where’s Ben” Uma furrowed her brows, Mal was usually the one to keep talking until the sun went down, it was odd for her to get straight to the point. But she shrugged it off and took a seat across from Mal.

“here's the deal” Mal raised her brow.

“there's always a deal with sea witches” Mal muttered, smirking as Uma gave her a look. Uma lifted her arm on the table, her elbow resting on the surface as her hand arched into the air.

“If you win, Bens free to go!” Mal stared at her for a moment, really? An arm-wrestling match?...she should have brought (y/n), Uma had always been a bit physically stronger than her. “Hmm?” Uma taunted, smiling as Mal finally hiked her arm on the table and started to line up their hands. Uma pulled back for a moment, pouting at Mal “Don’t you want to know what I get if I win?”

Mal stopped…then nodded, letting her hand lay flat on the table. Uma blinked in surprise, Mal never waited to hear the other end, always assuming she would win so she never bothered to learn what the other person wanted. She brushed it off, her teasing smirk slipping into a sharp grin. “If I win…you get me the wand” Mal took a sharp breath, cursing herself as Uma chuckled at it.

Mal closed her eyes and nodded, lifting her hand again to start the match “Fine, If I win; you give me Ben, If you win; I get the wand and bring it to you” Uma smiled, clasping her hand with Mal’s and nodding.

“On three” Uma ordered, Mal sighed and rolled her eyes, starting the countdown.

“One”

“Two~”

“three!” Mal pushed her hand to the left, gritting her teeth slightly as she felt heavy resistance from Uma’s side. Uma let out a small chuckle, smiling at Mal as she started to taunt her.

“You know, that whole princess act. Ugh.” She rolled her eyes, a sharp grin growing on her face “Never bought it for a second. You can stick a tiara on your head but you’re still a villain” Mal smirked, wow she actually thought that was an insult~ how cute.

“Thank you~” Mal purred, enjoying the look of confusion in Uma’s eyes. She jerked her arm heavily to the left, turning the match more to her side, Uma grunted in exertion. Mal hummed to herself, maybe she was stronger than the last time she had “fought” Uma. “and you can slap a pirate hat on and call yourself captain; but you can’t even hold out for your ‘boys’?”

Uma’s eyes flashed and a weight settled in her chest. “I mean come on” Mal cackled, feeling her headache return as her eyes glowed “it's only been five months~ you really gave up on them so quickly?” Uma’s hand was inches away from the table, her teeth gritting in exertion as her mind ran a thousand miles a minute. “How would Harry feel if he knew you already replaced him with Davy?”

Uma looked back up at Mal, glaring at the purple-haired fae “when you see them” she growled, her eyes flashing turquoise “tell them they're dead to me” Mal gasped, what?! No! that wasn’t how Uma was supposed to react!! In her moment of confusion, Uma took the chance of Mal’s now loose grip and slammed her hand down on the other side.

Uma stood from her seat and yelled in victory, pumping her hands in the air as the pirates around them cheered. Uma slammed her hands on the table, smirking as she stared at Mal's shocked and defeated form “Now, if you want beasty boy back” Mal raised her brow at the nickname she thought only (y/n) and Harry called Ben “Bring me fairy godmothers wand. To my ship tomorrow at the wharf docks next to the old garage near the pair at twelve noon.” She stood straight and flipped her hair back “Sharp, got it?” Mal finally looked away from her hand to Uma, glaring at the sea witch.

Uma cackled turning and walking back towards the kitchens when she stopped, turning back to Mal and smiling at her “Oh and if you blab? You can kiss your baby goodbye~” she blew a kiss to Mal and walked off.

Mal sat at the table for a moment, before rushing to stand and get back to the hideout. If Uma told her to go tell Harry he was dead to her, that meant Harry had never talked to Uma.

And they had gotten to the isle at six pm, it was now almost nine pm. Something was wrong.

You huffed a bit as you climbed the rickety metal stairs up towards Harry's apartment. Jay stopped In front of a black door with silver and red spray paint all over it. Harry's name scratched into the door. “Here it is” Jay muttered, opening the unlocked door and stepping inside. “ Harry?!” Jay yelled, furrowing his brows as no response followed.

“Harry!?” you yelled, pushing past Jay and stepping into the apartment, your chest tightening as you heard nothing back. Mal said he would be here, why wasn’t he here! “Harry!?” you ran towards the back end of the apartment, going through the red curtain door and looking around.

All you saw was an old queen-sized bed with red and black sheets, a painted red dresser in the corner, a cracked wall mirror, and some clothes thrown about the floor. “He’s not in his room!” you called, stepping further into the room and glancing about, you saw a connected room showing rusty bathroom, pretty nicely kept but unused for a while.

“It looks like he hasn't even touched the kitchen” Gil yelled back, you heard some doors slam closed and Gil walking around the main area.

“…” you pressed your lips together, walking back out of his room and into the living room/entrance area “do you think he went to talk to his sisters? Or Uma” Gil shook his head.

“No, if he talked to Uma, she wouldn’t have sent someone after Ben…or Harry would have been the one to take Ben” Gil sighed, holding his hands on his hips and shaking his head “It hardly looks like he even stepped foot in here” he muttered, glancing at the dark brown couch to his left and the old TV to his right.

“But someone has obviously been in here” Jay pointed out, gesturing to booted footprints on the floorboards “Not Harry but someone else” Gil crouched down, trailing his fingers on the print.

“…CJ’s” Gil confirmed, standing and whipping his hands on his pants “those are CJ’s footprints” you and Jay looked at him with wide eyes.

“How do you know?” Jay asked, rubbing the back of his head as he stared at the footprints. Gil shrugged.

“Dad taught me how to tell people apart just from their boot size and stride length, this is CJ’s, see how they don’t show the full boot and they aren’t far apart? She skips as she walks so she wouldn’t touch the ground completely or take full strides” you let out a low whistle.

“Impressive….and those are?” you pointed at another set of much bigger prints that were opposite of CJs. Gil took one look and beamed.

“Harry’s! so Harry was here! But probably not for long if nothing else here is touched” you sighed in relief, so Harry was at his apartment like he said he would be…but if he wasn’t here, and he wasn't at the chip shop…where was he?

“Okay, so…how do we find out where he is?” Gil shrugged, crossing his arms.

“Best bet? Harriet or CJ’s place, he probably hasn’t talked to Uma yet considering she sent Davy to do her dirty work” Gil shivered at the mention of the red-haired “pirate”

“Then we go to Harriet or CJ’s place” you decided, turning to exit the apartment, only to be stopped by a cutlass blade at your throat "oh... it's you" the girl in front of you growled. Your shoulders dropped in realization as you looked upon the girl's face. Dark curly hair, bright ocean blue eyes lined with black eyeshadow, red coat, hook earrings, and a hook patch on her sleeve

"Harriet?" you whispered "Harriet Hook?" The girl, Harriet, raised her sculpted brow and tilted her head "that would be me, and you are the Auradon brat that stole my brother" you shook your head "we can talk about that later, Harry’s not here and he hasn't talked to Uma" Harriet's eyes widened and the sword drew away from your neck "what? But CJ said he went to talk to Uma two hours ago” you and Harriet stared at each other, horror blooming on your faces as Jay and Gil looked at each other with wide eyes as they came to the same realization you and Harriet did.

"Harry’s missing”

-end of part 8-

and there we go~ Ben and Mal have officially broken up! hopefully that fight made sense and didn't sound like a therapist was talking through either of them lol. also ive decided to fix the timeline of D2 a bit since its just all over the place (it starts on Thursday, when Ben and Mal go on their picnic date, and cotillion is said to be three days from that point (for me that means Thursday (1) Friday (2), Saturday (3rd day/cotillion day)) Mal goes to the isle on Thursday, Uma and Mal arm wrestle on Thursday night/early Friday morning, and the wand for ben fight happens noon the day after the arm wrestle( which is friday i think?) and then suddenly cotillion is the same night as the wand fight? even though its really only been a day and a half) so now im my timeline, the first quarter of d1 happens ALLL on Thursday, up until Carlos n Jay head back to Auradon for the phoney wand, then the big fight happens on Friday, then cotillion on Saturday to give Evie time to fix up Mals cotillion dress

also dont blame Uma for saying Harry n Gil are dead to her, she don't know they love her with all their heart and are still her boys

anyway permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @rintheemolion

@verboetoperee @imtryingthisout @thecaptainsgingersnap

taglist

@thesailbells @beccad10x

#Descendents #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #harry hook descendants #descendants #anti canon mal #anti mal #just in case #part of your world #shuffle playlist #rewrite #reprise #encore #harriet hook #mr smee #uma descendants #uma daughter of ursula

68 notes · View notes

argumentl · 3 years ago

Text

The Freedom of Expression - Ep 50 Propheciser with psychic powers, Baba Vanga's predictions.

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru, with this week's episode of The Freedom of Expression. Joe san, Tasai san, welcome....Uh, its nothing special, but..

J: Nothing special?

K:...We havn't really spoken about this mask...(*gestures to his mask*)

J: Oh, of course.

K: We made it as part of our merchandise.

J: Oh, by the way..hang on a sec (*Turns around to show his jacket*)

T: Ohh, the Dir en grey one from before, right?

K: Tasai wore that once before too.

T: Yeah, on the live broadcast.

K: So today..

J: ...I'm wearing it.

K: Thank you.

J: This is really warm...

K: Really?

J: Um, the normal types of these, what are they called? Coach jackets? This material is a bit different from them.

K: Really?

J: It has a nice crispiness to it.

T: Yeah, I wear it quite a lot. This mask, what does it say on it?

K: I don't know, what is written on it? haha.

J: Is it on sale now?

K: I think so, yeh.

J: Everyone, please have a look!

T: Can I also just show my T shirt?....Its a Tokyo Sports one.

K: Ahh! Seriously?? That looks great!

J: That is cool!

T: Its from the store Hardcore Chocolate in Higashinakano.

K, J: Ohh!

K: Like that other one I sometimes wear? With Fujikawa Kyuji?

T: Yes, yes, yes. We've done a collaboration with them.

K: How good is that?!

J: Ehhh?

T: Its been on sale since Jan 11th. I brought you one each.

K, J: Eh?!

K: Thank you!

T: Thats what I wanted to say today.

J: Thats it? Isn't that great?

K: Ok, well..

J: Shall we start?

K: Yes.

J: This is the news that I chose. So, 2021 has already begun, but what type of year will it turn into? 'Blind propheciser with psychic powers...Baba Vanga'...

K: Its a bit difficult to say, isn't it? Bava Vanga.

J: Yes, Baba Vanga, she has made some predictions. She predicted the simultaneous terror attacks on America, and that the UK would leave the EU. The blind propheciser from Bulgaria, Baba Vanga. She actually died in 1996 aged 85, but she had already made predictions about what would happen in 2021, and she has been correct with 85% of her predictions so far. First, a cure for cancer will be found! Humanity will probably be able to eradicate cancer at the start of the 21st century. Next, President Donald Trump will be struck down with a serious ailment. The 45th president will catch a disease of unknown origin, go deaf, and suffer brain injury. Next, Europe. The European economy will collapse, a domestic asassination attempt will be made on President Vladimir Putin, Islamic extremists will attack Europe with chemical weapons. Next, worldwide. The world will undergo climate change and suffer great damage. Peoples' awareness will change, an era of distress will dawn, people will be divided. We will witness shocking events which will change the fate of humanity. Thats not all, it goes on....Oil production will stop, trains will fly using solar energy. If oil production stops, the world can rest. In 2021, a strong dragon will seize the earth. Further, three giants will unite, some people will get red money. She also saw the numbers 100 and 5 with lots of zeros. As for the meaning of the dragon, if it were a nation, it is easy to see it as China, the three giants would be Russia, India, and China, and as for the 100 and 5, this could refer to 100yuans and 5000 rubles, as both use red notes. And finally, the last prediction is alien life in space will be discovered, the origin of life on eath will be revealed, and people will be able to make contact will their supernatural siblings from another world. Those are Baba Vanga's predictions. What do you think?

T: She died in '96, and she was already able to predict what would happen in 2021?

J: 25 years later, yes, she predicted what would happen in this year 2021. Well, I mean, she didn't say the name Donald Trump, she just said the 45th president would suffer. But the scary ones are peoples' awareness changing, and shocking events that will change the face of humanity. Thats been going on constantly since last year.

K: By the way, what were her predictions for the year 2020?

J: I wonder what they were.

K: I mean, I like this kind of thing, but don't psychics always put out tonnes of predictions.

J: They do.

K: So something is likely to fit.

J: Yeah, in the widest sense, something like this might happen.

T: Yeah.

K: Something out of these is bound to happen, so we can sit here and say, 'Oh yes, this is right', but if you really tried you could make any of them fit. Psychics do this a lot.

J: Well, yeah, I mean, she was quite specific with the 45th president getting an unknown ailment.

T: And with the assassination attempt on Putin, that was very specific.

J: Yeh, that was. Well..???*1 I'm interested in these bits. But look, it also says alien life will be discovered. This is good for Tokyo Sports.

T: Yeah, for Tokyo Sports, this is great.

J: Humanity connecting with separate worlds..

T: Supernatural siblings.

J: What does Tokyo Sports think of all this? Will it come true?

T: We might be in trouble if it does.

K: Right?! The dragon..

T: Hahaha

K: That would be bad.

J: Certainly though, when you look at something like this, you do end up trying to make it fit.

K: Yeah, when there is a lot.

Kami: Uh...

J: Ah, Kami! Surely you are an expert on this kind of thing, Kami?

Kami: Uh, the name Baba Vanga is incredible, right?

J, T: Yeah.

Kami: As a god of the Sai baba generation, Im attracted to this name.

J: Ahh, Sai baba. Do you know a lot about him?

Kami: No, nothing. Only his name.

J: Haha.

K: Only his name?

Kamu: No, the names of psychics have impact.

J: Ah, of course.

T: Its true, psychics have these kind of plosive sounds in their names.

J: What does 'Baba' actually mean? Like in Sai Baba, or Baba Vanga?

T: Ah, maybe something like 'god'.

Kami: No, its more like babababa~mba~m!

T, J: Haha

J: Kami, what do you think of these predictions?

Kami: Oh, it happens a lot, some peole getting red money. But, it doesn't matter what colour, red, yellow...I want it.

K: You want it, right?

Kami: 100 and 5 with lots of zeros, I want as many zeros as possible added

T: Hmm, yeah.

Kami: I want them to give it out like bababa~m! Babababa!

K: He just wanted to say that, haha

J: Kami, are you drinking?

K, T: Haha

Kami: No, I'm not drinking.

J: You're not?

Kami: No. Joe, you're just paranoid.

J: Haha.

K: But actually, there was some news about the cure for cancer wasn't there?

T: Was there?

K: Yeah, recently.

T: Ehh? Well, maybe these predictions are on point. 85% of her predictions turn out correct...

J: Hm, yeah, if the nice ones are correct, that would be nice. Curing cancer and stuff. I don't want that one about climate change and great suffering to be correct.

K: Well, these things are definitely happening at least somewhere in the world.

T: Right, yeh. Oh, (*reading card*) in the year 4509, conversing with gods will become possible. She predicted that too apparently.

Kami: That has already come true, right? We're talking now.

J: Well, of course, we are doing that.

T: 2000 years early.

K: Yeh..2...2016 years early?

Kami: Sorry its with such a lousy god though.

J: Thats right.

K: Yeah, we are conversing, right?

J: We are so early!

T: Hahaha

Kami: This is one of the 85% correct predictions.

K: Its not, its wrong, we are conversing with gods 2016 years before she predicted it.

J: Yeah, Baba Vanga said it would be in the year 4059. Unless this god talking to us is a fake god?

K: Oh, theres that theory too?

Kami: Can you say that? A fake god?

J: Eh?

Kami? Can you say a god is fake?

J: I mean, if its a half-baked god..

Kami: Im obviously a god..

J: I can't see you though..

Kami: Well, yeah, you can't, haha.

T: Haha, its obvious?

K: We have no idea?

J: We can't see you.

T: But we do have the knowledge that Kami has quite a babyface.

Kami: Ahh, pachinko, yeh.

J: I think Kami should make some predictions about what will happen in 2021, to prove to us that he's a real god.

T: Yes, thats it.

K: Yeah.

J: Right? Kami's predictions!

T: One or two..or three.

Kami: I can't, I havn't thought about it!

J: Haha, no no, if you can descend...

T: Its Kami's predictions.

Kami: Most likely...I'll change jobs.

T: You will...?

K: ...Change jobs?

T: Eh?!

Kami: Yes.

K: Your night shift?

J: His part-time job will change?

T: haha

Kami: Yes, thats it.

J: You can't call that a prediction, haha. Whether or not you will change jobs has nothing to do with humanity!

Kami: Its a prediction.

K: Its not!

Kami: The big gods can say things like an earthquake will come and stuff, but Im a small god.

J: Ah, I see.

K: Even then, he could still do it, its only a statement.

J: If anything it sounds just like a regular action plan.

Kami: Hehehe

J, T, K: Hahahaha

K: You're laughing, Kami? This god is getting more interesting.

Kami: Yes.

T: Kami, can you tell us what will happen to Joe this year?

J: Ah, yes, tell me my fortune. He could tell us all our fortunes.

Kami: Oh Joe? Joe will get drunk and mess up.

J:Hm?

Kami: You'll get drunk and mess up.

J: Well, yeah, haha

T: Thats a fact.

J: Thats just an extension of whats happened up to now.

T: How about something like, 'Joe will get married suddenly' or something?

J: Ah, yes yes yes.

Kami: Ahh, no, you won't.

K: I agree with that *2

J: No?

K: He's not lying, haha.

J: Its because there's no sign of it coming from me currently.

T: But thats the thing! It would be really sudden if you got married in June or something.

J: He said no.

T: Like, the one for you might appear!

J: Yeah, how about that?

Kami: I can see woman trouble for you.

T: Woman trouble?

J: Ahh, it won't work. What about Tasai?

T: Yeah, how about me, Kami?

Kami: ...I can see woman trouble.

J, T: Haha

K: He's just going with the flow.

T: Im getting dragged in by Joe.

J: He has no idea what to say again. Ok, how about Kaoru?

Kami: I can see woman trouble

J: Haha.

T: Is this ???*3

J: Yeah

K: ???*4

Y: Yeah

K: Ok, I think we'll finish this week on that note. Please subscribe. Thank you very much.

* 2 Not sure im right.

* 1, 3, 4 Couldn't make out.

#dir en grey #the freedom of expression #tfoe #kaoru #薫

17 notes · View notes

a-simple-imagine · 4 years ago

Text

Day 4 - Like a Child

requested by anonymous: “would you consider a plot where the reader gets turned and all but then at some point tries to save one of the children the True Knot has captured and how that affects the dynamics between Rose and the reader”

Pairing: Rose the Hat x fem!reader

Words: 1.1k+

A/N - Haven't written for Rose in a while but rest assured i never stop thinking about her. We will return to our regular hp related programming soon.

Warnings - minor mentions of violence, murder and guns.

It was a cold winter night deep in the heart of December. Snow trickles down from the sky, crunching beneath the boots you stole from Andi as you head towards Rose's caravan. Crow had summoned you, saying the Rose needed a word. There were many things it could be about but yesterday was the most obvious cause. A folksy tune grew drifted along the icy wind as you approach the door. Knocking just twice before opening the door. It was like stepping into a sauna with the temperature difference but you were grateful to be out of the cold. Brushing off some of the stray flakes of snow that were beginning to melt into your hair.

"Shut the door, you're letting the heat out," She commands and without a second thought you spin around to pull it closed; a final shiver spilling up your spine. You always liked Rose's home; it had a certain bohemian charm that many of the others lacked. Plus it was bigger; a lot bigger than yours. Rose herself was nestled into the corner with a tea and her hand and a blanket covering her crossed legs. The hat she never left home without was set next to her like her own little child. Crow was also present but he was sat at the table nursing a glass of rum, maybe? Whiskey. You didn't know or frankly care. Swaying on the balls of your feet in the centre of the room, you wonder if you should take a seat or would that be rude? What did she even want? Turning to the TV, you watch as a blonde woman wearing a police vest charges up the stairs with her gun drawn. Shifting between looking at Rose and Crow, you decide you should just leave. Spinning sharply on your heel, you head for the door. "Stop," She states just as your fingers grace the cold metal of the door handle. "We need to talk."

"Then somebody talk, I was beginning to think I was invisible." You declare dramatically. Turning back around you return to your spot. Rose looks at you for a moment, you could feel her eyes drift over you like she was inspecting every inch of your body. Your lips curl up into a teeny, tiny smile as your eyes meet.

"Do you know why we need to talk?"

If it was about yesterday then yes but just in case it wasn't you didn't really want to bring it up. "You missed me? You cooked me dinner?"

The woman sighed much in the way a fed-up mother does with their child. When you first met Rose, she was much scarier. Then again that may have been because you thought she was trying to kill you. Then it turned out she wanted you to join her weird little psychic cult as you liked to refer to it. You accepted before reading the terms and conditions and ended up in deep shit but not until after some really great sex. Now, though, she was a lot... softer? That didn't feel like the right word but still. "You can't try to let the kids go,"

Oh, that. Yesterday, you may or may not have tried to let a little kid named bobby go but in your defence, you weren't properly briefed on the whole murdering children part. "That was one time, ages ago, Rose. In the wise words of Queen Elsa from the hit animated Disney movie, Frozen. Let it go."

"Ages ago?" Crow Daddy pipes up; you had almost forgotten he was here.

"You mean yesterday?" Rose ponders. "Did you think we'd just forgot?"

"The past is in the past,"

"Can you take this more seriously?" Crow reprimands, earning him a less than favourable look from Rose.

After taking a final sip, Rose placed her mug down and moved to the edge of the bed so that her legs dangled over the edge. "Stop quoting Frozen and look at me." You sigh softly, glancing towards the floor. You really didn't want to look at her anymore. When was the last time she hoovered in here? "Look at me."

"What?" You snap a little as you look up. You almost immediately regret it, taking a few steps backwards to further the distance between the two of you."

"You can't go doing that, okay?" Why was she being so nice about this? You look to Crow, half expecting this to be a trap. "If it wasn't for Crow and this god awful holiday, I probably would have killed you but he is forcing me to see reason. It's the holidays blah blah blah." You don't really know what to say to that; plus you're too worried about making the entire situation worse so you keep your mouth shut. Rising from her seat, Rose approaches you like a lion stalking its prey. You swallow hard as she stares you dead the eyes before grabbing you by the chin, forcing you to look at her. Her fingers pressed harshly against your skin as a smirk settles on her lips. "Do it again sweetheart and I'll have your head. Do you understand me?" You nod quickly and thankfully, she lets go. "Tell me, are you part of the true knot?"

"Yes." Your eyes follow her as she saunters into the kitchen. Grabbing the metal kettle and filling it with water.

"That's right. And you chose to join, correct?"

"Well...." It was either that or die so was it really much of a choice?

"Correct?" she said a little more firmly.

"Correct." You repeat.

"So why are you acting like a fucking idiot and letting our food source go? It's hard, I get it but we need to survive so you either get on board or leave simple as."

You bow your head a little, sinking into yourself like a reprimanded child because that's exactly what this felt like. I guess that made Crow Daddy the father in this situation? Weird. "Sorry."

"I wanna give you something?" Rose announces as she pops the kettle onto a burning hob.

"A Christmas present?"

Her brows furrow. "No. A job."

"Oh," That made much more sense. "What job?"

"I want you to start helping Crow with tracking and if you do a good job, I won't make you do the hard part. You can just enjoy the spoils."

"Okay." Was that better? Not really but you weren't about to argue with her about it.£

"And," She saunters back over to you; her hand gracing your cheek. "I'll even get you a present but you have to wait until Christmas day."

Hearing this, you can't help but perk up a little but could she be trusted? You offer her a smile. A smile you're sure she can see right through. "Alright, I'll help Crow."

"Good. Now leave before I change my mind." She shoves your head away from her hand and returns to her place on the bed.

"I have a question-"

"Now," she intervenes sharply, pointing to the door and this time you scramble to the door without another word.

#rose the hat #Rose the hat x reader #doctor sleep #rebecca ferguson #The Shining

86 notes · View notes

fakesurprise · 3 years ago

Text

A First Adorcism

The worst part about no one having seen the ghost was that I had no idea what I was getting into. Marcel had vouched for me to the family as his student - which technically I was, seeing as I’d aided him in helping four ghosts in the past two years. I had no ranking on Hauntr, but Hauntr was mostly Yelp for exorcists and adorcists were the opposite of exorcists. Marcel was on it, but often had to deal with being review-bombed, hateful comments and threats on his life. It would likely be even worse for me, which I wasn’t looking forward to.

Being an exorcist wasn’t the most high-paying job, and some of them could make poltergeists look kind. I touch the phone in my pocket, knowing Marcel is only ten minutes away and let go as I walk toward the house. It’s raining, which feels oddly natural but does mean the fall chill in the air can hide a ghost better than normal. Not that I’m worried, but I’m almost not-not worried.

The ghost had died in his sleep from a heart attack, which didn’t normally make ghosts except that Edith Danby had begun packing up things to move less than a week after the vacation. Her son had offered to let her stay with him for a month or two and she was putting things away beforehand as a way of trying to put the past in order. Which was all fine and good until every moving box and suitcase was destroyed, the destruction harming nothing within the containers.

She’d run into the garage, called her son. He called the local priest who realized a ghost who could do that was more than a simple exorcism could fix and he called someone who called someone and reached Marcel. The Quercus Foundation doesn’t advertise at all save by word of mouth, but most of the time it’s enough for us.

I’d thought ‘for us’ without hesitating. I decide to take that as a good omen as I turn off my Toyota and walk up the driveway. The house is a small two-storey affair. Peeling paint, slightly unkempt lawn: a home that had aged along with the owners, just far enough out of town for no one to comment, not so far that people would worry and check in. No lights are on, the doors closed up tight as I walk up to the front door.

The key that Comor Danby gave me works, the door opening without issue.

As first steps go, this is good. I pocket the key and walk inside, looking about slowly.

The house smells slightly cold and musty but looks fine. Dated furniture and wallpaper, an older-style kitchen kept clean and tidy. No shattered windows, no plates hurling through the air. Nothing dangerous, but there was still the feeling that I wasn’t alone.

“Charles Danby?” I say, keeping my hands visible and loose at my sides.

The ghost walks down the stairs, each foot touching a stair. He is translucent, but not overly so. Slight stubble on his cheeks, wearing the pajamas he had been wearing when he died. He is frowning, and there is a cold glint of anger in his eyes that his family never mentioned.

The dead are never the person they were in life, and the biggest danger for the living is to forget that.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my home?”

The temperature drops about me. Nothing is flung through the air, no force shoves me into me, but his anger twists into the world. Lost. Afraid. Alone.

“My name is Miella Sinclair,” I say quietly, so he has to make the effort to listen in. “I’m here to help you.”

“Help? I’m fine. If this is some attempt by Edith to get me to join that jazzercise class again, I’ll have you know that it’s just people trying to con exercise out of those who don’t need it.”

“No, it’s not. Jazzercise is for the living. You’ve been dead for over two weeks, Mr. Danby.”

He stops. The air doesn’t get colder, which I take as a good sign. “I beg your pardon?” “You died in your sleep. Most people who do that don’t become ghosts, but there are exceptions. It’s common for you to not realize you are a ghost, but I am six feet tall and you are eye level with me.”

He starts, lowering down to the ground. Stares down at his feet, then up at me. “Where is Edith?” “She is going to spend a few days with Comor. She needed space away from memories, but then you destroyed all the moving boxes and that changed things.”

“I didn’t - I thought we’d had a fight. That she found out….” he trails off.

I wait.

“The second of June, 1972. I was at a convention for work. I almost cheated on her. I never told her, I always meant to. It came closer than I would have liked, being talked into a co-workers room and she was my boss so I thought it was work until it wasn’t. I didn’t lose my job, but it was close. Comor was two years old, and I almost threw my life away after three glasses of beer. Edith always said she loved me, but she never knew.”

“You want to tell her?” His eyes flash. A flicker of blue-white energy and the air takes on a discordant hum.

“Mr. Danby. Charles. I said I was here to help you. An exorcist wouldn’t say that.”

The hum dissipates into a buzzing. “Then what are you?” “Exorcists banish. Adorcists like myself help you let go and pass on. No one knows what happens to ghosts. No one knows what happens after we die. But some of us have learned another way to help the living and the dead.” The ghost doesn’t move, the hum of menace fading into a soft whisper. “I can tell your wife and son what you told me. But you have to understand that Edith isn’t going to come back while you are here. She might not see you, but she’ll sense you and feel like a stranger in her own home.”

“I’d never want that. She meant the world to me.” “She did, yes. And your family loved you enough to contact someone like me to help you.”

“How?” the ghost asks.

“You spoke in the past tense. That is part of it. You won’t stop caring for her. But you are an echo of Charles Danby, a reflection of who you were. You can do things you never could in life, and you could hurt those you care for when trying to help them.”

“I’d never hurt Edith like that!”

“You ruined over two suitcases. What if she packed more? What if you’d thought she was leaving you?”

He stops moving. The air ceases to be quiet so cool about me.

“I don’t want to hurt my family.”

“They know that. I know that.” I held out my right hand. “You just need to relax and take my hand. Meditate. Jazzercise, in its own way?”

That wins a startled laugh from the ghost. “No dancing. I was never a good dancer.” “No dancing, unless you want to.”

The ghost floats over, more translucent than before.

I reach out, trying to visualize the part where the ghost has touched a psychic scar in the world, as if my words can gently relax the wound.

“Relax and let go. Relax with the knowledge that you are loved. You slept then, so you can sleep now. Breathe in the world, breathe out with it. The moment is everything. The moment is nothing. Relax and be at peace.”

The ghost fades from my sight, and I feel the moment Charles Danby departs entirely, the sensation of a soap bubble popping against my skin.

I wait a minute. I text Marcel that I’m at 85% surety. Put my phone away.

“I’m not going to tell Edith Danby. She doesn’t deserve that pain.”

I wait another minute. Nothing happens, and nothing continues to happen.

“Okay. Good. Be at peace, Charles Danby.”

I relax my senses and walk through the house from top to bottom, but no trace of the ghost remains. I let out a breath, and another one, and head back to the front door. The door opens. I close it behind me. Wait ten minute. Enter and leave again.

Then call Marcel as I walk back to my car, dropping the house keys near the front door . “I think it’s good. I’d like you to check it out to be certain?” He chuckles softly. “I’ll be there in five.”

Marcel drives a range rover, which he parks further down the road. He walks past me without a glance, snags the keys and goes inside. I wait a minute. Two. Five. He comes out at just after the eight minute mark, locking the door and walks over to my car.

I accept the keys.

“Drink?” he offers.

“At least two. You know a place?”

He nods and I follow his vehicle to a slightly upscale bar. It still has pool tables but at least no televisions. We order high balls and sit in a booth with a good view of the front door out of habit.

Marcel is easily old enough to be my father, his face lined with age though his white beard hides most of it. He has a sip of his drink. "How was it?” “Good. He got angry once thinking I was an exorcist, but I talked him down, learned his secret.”

“Took longer than I’d thought you would.”

“After he was gone, I waited and then said I wasn’t going to tell his secret. He didn’t manifest.”

Marcel frowns slightly. “That was very risky, Miella.”

“I know. But I wanted to be sure I’d helped him be at peace.”

He lets out a sigh. “This will go on the official report, but in all honesty I did the same. Don’t know of an adorcist who doesn’t do that their first time out. That will be on the report too. Do you plan to tell the family the secret?” I nod. We don’t have to, but it’s generally considered good form to do so. “I’ll return the keys and meet you back at the office?”

He nods, and we clink glasses before finishing the drinks and ordering a light supper and water.

I had expected to feel tense or relieved, but all I feel is eager. “What next?”

` “You’ll go over what you did and could have done better a few times, and we’ll do another assignment together. Two more on your own with my near, another on your own with me a city away. And if all goes well, you’ll be able to do some assignments on your own just fine after that.”

We clink glasses and the world seems almost normal.

#writing #prose #love and other misadventures #short story

11 notes · View notes

earthfire-75 · 3 years ago

Text

Kashmir

Chapter One, Part One: Kashmir (The Trick is to Keep Breathing)

Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music, beta-ed by @lady-jane-revisited

I had fallen asleep listening to KIashmir as I fell asleep. It was all I could think about after that strange woman had told me that I would find myself in a distant place, that I would hold the fate of three hearts in my hands. I tried not to think about it much, but as the day grew later, that was proving more and more difficult, until I finally fell asleep.

I had no idea how right that woman was and I wondered if she was psychic.

I woke in an alley, laying flat on my back and I felt like I wanted to scream. I didn’t know why it even fazed me anymore. Three, three times now… Did the universe hate me that much? Who was I going to meet that I would get my heart broken over this time? Who knows, maybe I wouldn’t this time, but I was not holding my breath. In both previous times I had found myself in a different universe than my own, that was exactly what had happened. I fell in love and just as I was ready to accept that I wasn’t going anywhere, the universe had other plans.

I picked myself up from the ground and found I wasn’t far from the mouth of the alley. Dusting myself off, I sighed as I noticed my already threadbare Zeppelin shirt now had a couple of tears in it, I headed out of the alley. I wasn’t paying as much attention to my surroundings as I should have been, trying to just keep my head down and find a place to stay and worry about everything else in the morning. But I ran into someone as I rounded the corner. I quickly apologized, but the person had my arms in a gentle hold.

“Are you alright, love?”

The familiar-ish English accent made me look up. Holy crap! Jimmy fucking Page! He chuckled at me, letting go of my arms.

“While it’s good to be recognized, I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

“Dear God, I said that out loud… sorry. I’m Anjelika,” I replied, my heart starting to slow down.

He chuckled again, smiling at me. “It’s quite alright, love. Come to the studio with me, at least get you a new shirt.” He tilted his head as he took a better look at the shirt I was wearing. “I see you’re a fan, but I don’t recognize this design.”

Shit! “I, uh...made it myself. One of my many talents.”

“Ah. Well, shall we?” He asked, gesturing to a building a little further down the street. I nodded and we walked together in silence, feeling Jimmy’s eyes on me now and then, until we reached the building. He opened the door for me and followed me in. “Straight down the hall and the first door on the left will take you to G’s office. You can wait there while I find you a clean shirt.”

“G?” I asked half distractedly. I was busy taking in my surroundings in awe when I heard Jimmy chuckle. “What?”

“Nothing,” he chuckled again. “G is our manager, Peter Grant. He looks intimidating, and I admit, he can be when needed. But for the most part, he’s just a giant teddy bear.”

“Alright. I’ll see you there, yeah?”

“Yes. G might already be in his office, I’ll go with you to make an introduction. The rest of the band should be showing up soon as well.”

I nodded and headed down the hall to the first door on the left, as instructed. As I entered, sure enough there was a large man sitting at the desk in the middle of the room. The man I assumed was “G” looked up at me with a confused expression until Jimmy came in behind me.

“Jimmy! You’re early and I see you’ve brought a guest. Welcome, miss!”

“Please, call me Anjelika.”

“Morning, G! I came across this poor girl about a block away. Offered to get her a clean shirt at the least. I’m going to go find one, figured she’d be safe with you. Just keep Robert away from her.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible, but I can try.”

After that exchange, Jimmy left to find a clean shirt as promised. I started to look around the office, a bit fascinated by all the gold records. As I look around, Peter silently takes stock of me. The man towers over me, though I’m of average height.

“Anjelika?” He called to me, getting my attention. I turned to face the large man again, humming in acknowledgement.

“Forgive me saying, but you look like a sturdy woman. If you’re interested, we have an opening for a roadie. Specifically, someone who knows their guitars.”

“Well, I’m far from an expert, but my dad taught me quite a bit growing up. I know how to tune and play acoustic, electric and bass guitars. As for my interest, how about an enthusiastic hell yes!?” I wouldn’t mention that it was basically a lifelong dream, plus, this took care of how I was going to live while here.

Peter’s face lit up with a bright smile and stuck his hand out to me. “Welcome to the crazy life we call Rock n’ Roll!”

I laughed and took Peter’s hand to shake it, but before I could respond, another voice came from the doorway. “Did I hear right? You found the last roadie we need?” The accent was light and soft even in excitement. It was that and the feeling of another of my kind present that made me turn toward the door. There stood Robert Plant, John Paul Jones and John Bonham, a.k.a. Bonzo, who seemed to be eyeing me. Robert was as well, but their expressions were quite different. Bonzo was curious, if a little cautious, Robert had a clear interest in me, like a lion sizing up its prey.

I smiled to myself as I observed each of them. Bonzo’s cautiousness was a little surprising, but everything else about them was everything I had heard.

“Yes,” Peter replied. “Jimmy brought her in, but yes, I asked her if she would be interested in the job and she accepted. Anjelika, meet Robert Plant, John Paul Jones and John Bonham. Boys, meet Anjelika.”

John Paul was the first to step forward. “I trust Peter’s judgment, but have you ever played guitar before?”

“I have, granted, it’s been a few years, but I think I remember a thing or two.” I responded with confidence.

“Don’t worry Jonesy,” Peter said. “I’m sure Jimmy will want to test her skills.”

“Who’s skills will I want to test?” Jimmy asked as he came back with a clean shirt, walking in and handing said shirt to me.

I took the shirt, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Mine, apparently. Mr. Grant offered me a job.”

“Well then, what are we waiting for? There’s a party tonight and the American leg of the tour starts tomorrow.” He announces and starts back out the door.

“Tomorrow?! That’s cutting it a bit close, don’t you think?”

Robert approached now, taking my hands in his. “Sometimes that’s just how it works out. If you need anything let us know, for now, we should join Jimmy in the studio.”

I nodded , slowly pulling my hands out of Robert’s and followed Jimmy until we reached a recording room. “Alright, let’s see what you can do, love.”

Without a word, I picked up the acoustic guitar and tuned it with ease, then I did the same with the two electric guitars. Finally, I turned to the bass guitar and tuned it, but I didn’t stop there. Something in me needed to sing too, to show them all of the talent I had to offer. Even if the song wasn’t my own. I stood up, pulled the guitar strap over my head, and stepped in front of the microphone.

I began a strong bass line and then, feeling a combination of nervousness and excitement , I began to sing.

“She’s not the kind of girl

Who likes to tell the world

About the way she feels about herself.

She takes a little time

In making up her mind

She doesn’t want to fight against the tide.

Lately, I’m not the only one

I say never trust anyone

Always the one who has to drag her down

Maybe you’ll get what you want this time around.

Can’t bare to face the truth

So sick you can not move

And when it hurts

He takes it out on you.

Lately, I’m not the only one

I say never trust anyone

Always the one who has to drag her down

Maybe you’ll get what you want this time around.

The trick is to Keep Breathing.”

I was about to continue when I saw five shocked faces looking back at me. Jimmy seemed to recover faster than the rest, Robert soon after. “Oh, we’re keeping her,” The singer announced.

Jimmy shook his head at his friend. “She’s not a pet, Rob. But yes, I think she’ll do nicely for the job.” He turned his attention once more to me. “Congratulations, you’re hired!”

I couldn’t help myself as I did a little dance before setting the bass back in its place and rejoined the others. In my joy, I ran up and hugged Jimmy and then Peter. “Thank you! But, if you all don’t mind, I’d really like to change my shirt now.”

“I’ll show you to the bathrooms.” It was Bonzo who spoke now, holding out his arm like a gentleman for me to take.

As we walked down the hallway, my eyes wandered at the sight before me. The studio environment was unlike what I had ever seen, the space was brimming with creativity as the sounds of instruments filled my ears. I could have only imagined what sorts of sounds would materialize here within these walls.

My attention was brought back when Bonzo spoke to me, “‘Ere you are Anjelika, love. I’ll wait for you out here since the studio is a bit big and well it’s your first day.”

“Thank you,” I said with a smile.

I looked at myself in the mirror after replacing my shirt. The material fit snugly against my torso and the design was so colorful with the band’s logo printed in bold letters that practically jumped off of the garment. Aside from admiring the clothing, I couldn’t help but stare at the woman looking back at me with a sense of wonderment and confusion. A new life was about to begin for me: accomodations taken care of, decent pay, and an opportunity to work alongside one of the biggest, if not the biggest, bands in the world right now. I felt happy and yet, something was lingering inside of me. Doubt? Worry? I was jolted from my thought process by the sound of hard knocking.

Bonzo’s voice was muffled, “Everything alright?”

“Coming,” I answered back.

Jonesy was fiddling with a mandolin when we returned to the recording space. Long fingers turning the tuning keys as his other hand made use of the strings. Jimmy was beside Grant going over the business aspect of the tour and Robert was occupied with his novel.

Bonzo leaned over the lanky singer, “How goes the little fellowship Percy? Are they about to fight a dragon again?”

Robert’s eyebrows quirked from over the pages, “Wrong book there Bonzo, this is the one where they venture out to destroy the One Ring. That is until everything goes wrong for the group-”

Jonesy butted in with a chuckle, “What is this, the tenth time you read the book this week?”

“Sod off,” Robert replied, “Just because you don’t find it interesting, doesn’t mean it’s a bad story.”

I glanced over and saw that he was reading The Fellowship of the Ring by Tolkien, a favorite of his judging by the tone in his voice, “What part are you on now? Have they just left Rivendell?”

Robert’s eyes lit up as he put his book down for a moment, “Yes, they have actually. You’ve read Fellowship?”

I smiled, “All of them, including The Hobbit.”

“Looks like you’ll have someone to talk nerd with you Percy,” Bonzo chortled as he grabbed his drumsticks.

Grant cleared his throat, “Alright settle down everyone, come on you lot have more to record. Bonzo get in there.”

Like an excited schoolboy, the man rushed in and made himself comfortable at the drum kit. Lightning fast reflexes created the thunderous booming of his instrument. I thought the glass was going to shatter from the sheer force of his playing alone. To hear him through headphones was one thing, but to actually see the man at work was something else entirely. He was like a beast letting out everything within himself, the raw power echoing from the percussion instruments. He was swift in his ability to move from one part of his set to the next, his fists holding on tightly to his drum sticks as he went from cymbal to snare to Tom. His footwork on pedals was quick as his entire body followed a musical rhythm.

As the boys began to record their song, Peter approached me once again, sitting in the chair beside me. “You know, what Percy said earlier…if you need anything, just ask. I know this was a bit sprung on you.”

I smiled a little and nodded. “Literally everything I own right now, I’m wearing. And technically, the shirt is borrowed.”

“Nah, you keep it. We can provide you with some shirts that were made for the tour. They’re for the roadies. As for anything else you might need, I can give you a small advance on your pay.”

“I…don’t know what to say. Thank you!”

He patted my hand and stood up. “It’s no problem at all, love. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” He left the room and I turned my attention to the boys. I recognized the song and couldn’t help but sing along from my side of the room.

“It is the springtime of my loving

The second season I am to know

You are the sunlight in my growing

So little warmth I've felt before

It isn't hard to feel me glowing

I watched the fire that grew so low, oh

It is the summer of my smiles

Flee from me, keepers of the gloom

Speak to me only with your eyes

It is to you, I give this tune

Ain't so hard to recognize, oh

These things are clear to all from time to time, ooh”

I had to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. I did not need Robert, or any of them really, to see me cry. Peter returned shortly after and handed me $100. I was in a bit of a shock, to say the least. “This is too much,” I said.

“Nonsense. Get yourself what you need, maybe a couple of dresses for after-parties. Anything left, consider it to be spending money.”

“Thank you, again, Mr. Grant.”

“Please, call me Peter. Or G, if you prefer.”

“Alright,” I smiled up at him, “thank you, G.”

The boys finished up the song and Peter stopped the recording. “I think you boys got it this time.”

“What did you think of it, Anjelika?” Robert asked, sounding a little shy.

“You all did wonderfully, it’s beautiful.”

Robert beamed like a ray of sunshine and the others seemed to approve of my opinion as well. Setting their instruments down and joined Peter and I on the other side of the studio.

“The party starts in a couple of hours, love. You should probably get your shopping done, there won’t be time for it tomorrow. I’m sure one of the boys will be happy to go with you, New York is a large city.”

“A guide seems like a good idea, especially since this is my first time in New York.” I turned to the boys only to see four sets of eyes looking imploringly at me. It seemed they all wanted to get out for a little while. I chuckled and shook my head. “You all look like lost puppies. Come on, let’s go. Robert, you can be my fashion consultant.”

Jonesy laughed. “You’ll regret that.”

“At least she didn’t give the job to Jimmy,” Bonzo laughed back.

Jonesy raised his hands up, “Fair point.”

“Oi!”

* * *

The city of New York was truly the picturesque place of all that was new and grand, while simultaneously being the same location that would change its image once the sun began to set. While not exactly a local and there was still a fair amount of daylight left, Robert insisted that I should stay close to him

“It’s a short walk from here, come on.”

“Robert, I think I’ll be okay. Besides, we'll go in and find a couple of dresses, some jeans and such. Shouldn’t be that hard,” I noted.

Sure enough, we made it to the boutique in no time. The place had all manner of outfits that were either displayed on their mannequins or hung from the racks. A number of the garments seemed to appeal more to the current generation with its float patterns, striped pants, button up blouses and skirts, big collared shirts, sweater vests, and corduroy suits. The shoes were something to marvel at as well. Robert had a big smile across his face and was about head to the nearest rack, that is until I cleared my throat.

“Right, dresses, sorry love.”

I raised a brow with a smirk, “It’s fine, I just have no clue where to start… Excuse me, ma’am?”

An employee turned my way, “Yes, how may I help you?”

“Could you help me find a couple of dresses for a party tonight?”

She answered with a smile, “Yeah, follow me to get your measurements first.”

She had me stand before a mirror, using her measuring tape to get my exact numbers. I noticed Robert’s eyes in the reflection examining me as she wrapped the tape around my bust. He bit down in his lip and tried his best to hide his smirk as I scowled at him. After the measuring was finished, she brought over a small collection of dresses and led me to the changing room.

She moved the curtain aside, “Just leave whatever you like inside the room and let me know if you need anything else.”

“I also need some work clothes. Jeans, mostly, under-things…and work boots.”

After thanking her, I made sure to keep the curtain closed up keeping my eyes out in case I see those ocean blue eyes peering at me. Everything looked really lovely, yet my perception changed the moment each time the outfits were on me. Everything seemed in place and the colors were beautiful, but nothing looked right to me. Even when I lifted my hair up in a makeshift ponytail and turned around, it hardly made a difference.

Robert cleared his throat, “Anjelika, how are you doin’ in there?”

“Um, well…”

“Come on, let me see you. I haven’t seen you in any of the dresses yet since we got here,” Robert mentioned.

“I don’t know, I don’t think… maybe…”

“Please, come out,” he begged.

I stepped out wearing a thin strapped red dress, the flowing skirt piece reached down to my knees and was cut asymmetric.

Robert eyed my look, “You look beautiful in red.”

“You think so? Thank you. What else should I get?”

Robert walked over and examined the other ones, holding up each one by the hanger’s metal hook. Positioning them in a way so that he could see what they looked like on me. He handed over the orange dress that was a bit longer and had a low v-neck cut. I was skeptical to wear it again, but tried it on once more and showed him.

The boutique employee returned with a small pile of jeans, a pack of underwear and a few bras, handing them over to me. “What’s your shoe size, dear?”

“9 ½ to 10, depending on the shoe.”

The woman nodded and left again to find shoes for me. I went back into the dressing room to try on the jeans and found they actually fit. As I came out once more, I found Robert had followed the woman to the shoe section. So I sat with my items until they returned. I tried on the work boots first, finding that the 10’s fit better. Robert had apparently picked out a pair of heels to go with the dresses. In that case, it was the 9 ½ that fit.

When we got to the register, the woman had also managed to fish up some makeup and jewelry to go with the dresses as well.

@salixfragilis @brownskinsugarplum76 @firethatgrewsolow @lady-jane-revisited @princesspagey @tremble-and-shake @tangerine-page @m-faithfull @jimmys-zeppelin @timetraveller4 @callmethehunter @tophats-n-lespauls please let me know if I missed anyone or if you would like to be added.

#led zeppelin fanfics #robert plant fanfiction #roger daltrey fanfiction #the who fanfiction #robert plant x reader x roger daltrey #alice cooper fanfic #no smut #yet #fem!roger daltrey

13 notes · View notes

weepingaesthetic · 4 years ago

Text

Orenda

Pairing: Dabi x reader

AU: Adult Verse

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance

Rating: NSFW

Warning: Drug use, swearing

Notes: Orenda is a mature fanfic that takes place in the characters adult years. Characters have been aged up (20+). There will be cursing, drug-use, extreme violence, explicit content, mentions of death and abuse. I don’t do clean versions but I will put a line where you can skip explicit scenes if it makes you uncomfortable. :) All content will be on my Masterlist. Enjoy~

Words: 2900+

Chapter 02

Masterlist

Orenda:

An internal summoning of personal strength to change fate. The courage to love someone against the obstacles life has set before you.

You’re a hacker helping a villain. He gets the information from you and stays when it’s convenient. There’s no room for feelings, right?

Strikhedonia

Strikhedonia: The joy of being able to say “the hell with it”

The trip to the store made you anxious and it wasn’t because of the storm brewing overhead.

“Remind me again why you decided it was a good idea to go to the store with me.?”

The man beside you smirked. “Have to make sure our little hacker doesn’t get jumped in the street, don’t I.?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know as well as I do, I could have anyone on their knees before they could blink.”

His smirk turned into a full-blown grin, almost looking predatory. “Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing, doll. Kinky. I like it.”

You slapped his shoulder, part of you being cautious of the staples, another part of you hoping you hit them anyway. This man-

“Honest answer, sweetheart, Shigaraki wants tabs on you. Called last night. The heroes were after you specifically. Who did you give blue balls to.?”

This time you shoved him. Well tried. What is he.? Made of fucking brick.? And sleeping with them.? What does he take you for.?

“As if. Why would they come after me.? I work under the radar. As far as they know I’m just a stubborn hacker with no IP address. As far as personally, just some hacker who has no interest in helping them. They don’t even know my real name.” You could feel yourself beginning to shake, despite the confidence in your voice. Missed a protection wall maybe.? Impossible. Everything was checked and double checked. This wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew what to set up for.

“Seems not, princess. Someone has a vendetta and it has your name on it.”

“Guess I’ll be making another stop then.” He quirked an eyebrow at you, signaling for an explanation.

You shrugged. “If you think I’m recoding my own firewall sober, your dumber than I thought.”

He glared at you at the comment. “I’m not the one who failed at their own job.”

“Says the man who got raided out of their hideout last night.”

“Says the woman responsible for it.”

You turned on him, causing him to almost bump into you from the sudden stop. “I had nothing to do with that. Ask your undercover boy who did, because no one should know I’m even working with the League. I said stop the accusatory bullshit. If you can’t do that then fuck off.” To say you had a short temper was an understatement of the year. It was a double-edged sword. It kept a wall around your heart, but caused hell to those who got caught in it.

“I said your still a suspect, doll face. Why do you think we're keeping tabs on you.?” His smirk was cold. Unfeeling. It made you want to punch him.

“Fuck you guys. I stay up for days helping you and the minute something happens all fingers point to me.? Real great of you. Tell Twice he can shove his firewall job up his ass.” You shook your head in disgust, stalking off in your original direction. The fucking nerve of them. How dare they.? After all you put on the line for them? This is how they repay you.?

You heard Dabi walking behind you, neither of you making any moves to start a conversation for a moment.

“Crusty-face said you passed the test.”

“What.?” Your voice was low, threatening and louder than intended. A few people glanced at the two of you before scurrying off. If you were still rational maybe you would’ve felt bad for drawing attention. Right now.? Hell no.

He pulled out an ear piece and waved it at you before crushing it. “Wanted proof on me saying you were innocent.”

Your glare was ice cold. “Do that shit again and you can find a different hacker to do your dirty work.”

“Come on, don’t be like that Ace.”

“Fuck you. It’s Asayama to you.” You walked into the store, leaving him in the street. Stupid trust issues. Stupid feelings. Fuck Dabi, the League, and everything to do with it. At least you had still given him the privilege of using your first name.

The store was vacant for the most part. A few stragglers here and there. Nothing too concerning, especially with how late it was. You walked up to the counter, greeting the elderly woman behind it.

“What can I do you for.?” Her voice was soft and soothing. Part of you wondered if she carried the same candy your grandmother would always carry. She had the same air around her. Comfort. Home.

“Marlboro red black shorts please.”

She asked for ID and nodded, going to search for your request.

“I saw you fighting with the guy standing outside. Need me to call someone.?” At least she was caring, you’d give her that.

“No, just an argument. His trust issues are getting annoying.” You didn’t know why you didn’t just shut her down, but the thought of being rude to this woman made you uncomfortable. It’d be like yelling at your own grandma. The thought made you shudder.

She nodded, knowingly. “$12.14 dear. May I give my advice.?”

You nodded back cautiously as you handed over the money.

“Trust issues are best talked about openly. Explain your side and allow him to explain his. It may be annoying, but there’s a reason he's guarding his heart so much. Try to get him to open up to you.”

You wondered if this woman was some kind of psychic. You knew some of Dabi’s past to know it was rough, but not enough to know why he always pointed fingers at you. This woman made more of a point than you’d like to admit.

You thanked her and walked back outside. It was starting to sprinkle and Dabi was nowhere to be found. You lit a cigarette and started your walk home, mind running with indecision as you pondered the idea given to you. It was going to be a long day.

Two days passed before you saw Dabi again. This time had you sprinting over to him in mild panic. Bruises littered his face and arms, a slash wound on his shoulder trailing blood down his arm and onto your clean floor. He was leaning against the door frame heavily, smirking at you like he wasn’t about to pass out onto your linoleum.

“Got a band aid you can spare.?”

You scoffed at him and pulled him into your kitchen as quickly as he could move, pulling out the disinfectant.

“Shirt off.” Your voice was clipped with worry and anger. One part of you still wanted to kick him out and give him the cold shoulder, the other part worried what would happen if you didn’t bandage him up first.

“If you wanted me naked that bad princess, all you had to do was ask.” He was leaned back in the chair comfortably, like he owned the place. He almost looked like he did. Almost.

You glared at him unamused until he complied. Your breath caught in your throat as more bruises and scratches popped up where the clothing used to cover.

You steadied your breath and walked in front of him. “This will hurt.”

You poured the disinfectant over the worst wound on his shoulder, checking to see if it needed stitches. Luckily it didn’t, but you knew you’d have to bandage it. You grabbed the roll, working swiftly and carefully as you wrapped. He didn’t make any indication of pain other than the bouncing of his leg.

You grabbed the ointment for the other cuts once you finished before speaking. “Want to tell me what happened.?”

He didn’t look at you, keeping his eyes on the wall as you worked. “No.”You gritted your teeth, controlling your temper for once. Fine then.

You stood up once you were sure everything was cleaned and bandaged properly before turning away from him. You used putting the bandages away as an excuse not to look at him. You were still angry, right.?

“Your good now, you can leave.”

You heard the chair scrape against the floor and felt your heart drop. Why was this bothering you so much.? You knew he didn’t care about you. You knew this was a business arrangement. You were barely friends. So why were you so on edge.? Why did it hurt so much.?

“Twice wants to know how the Firewall breach is going.” Normal. Small talk. Business. You hated it.

“I told you, he can shove it up his ass.”

You turned around to walk past him, but he caught your arm, stopping you from going any further. You made no move to turn around and look at him.

“Are you really still mad about the test.?”

You turned your head toward him to catch him in your peripherals, your face void of any emotion. “Of course not. Why would I be.? Why would I be upset that the only real friend I fucking have accused me of betraying him.? Not once, but twice.? Why would I be upset that the people I work day and night for to secure their safety so much I barely sleep can’t believe I’m actually on their side.? Why in the hell would I be upset over that Dabi.?” You could feel your nails extending into claws and you ripped your arm away from him. Maybe you didn’t have as good as a handle on your emotions as you thought.

“You know as well as I do, Shigaraki doesn’t take chances. I told you I believed you. I was just soothing the boss's insecurities.” He almost looked sad for a second, before his face was back to its usual mask. It was so quick you second guessed if it had been there at all.

You knew you were being irrational. It was stupid. You knew they were just looking after themselves. So why did you feel so hurt and betrayed.? Why couldn’t you filter out your emotions.? You didn’t say anything of the thoughts running through your head, knowing if you did it would cause more damage than good.

“I need to get back to work.” You tried to change the subject, handing Dabi a flash drive out of your pocket. “This is what Twice asked for. All the information he needed is there.”

He chuckled at you and took it. “What happened to he could shove this job up his ass.?”

You flushed. “Just give it to him before I change my mind.”

“Will do.” He pocketed the drive, the normal comfortable silence between you two feeling awkward.

You cursed yourself. You created this. Should you fix it.? Should you take advice from a stranger who couldn’t begin to understand this weird relationship.? It was now or never. Emotions be damned.

“Listen I-" you scratched your arm to try and distract yourself from how awkward this whole thing was, “I know you don’t trust anyone. I know you're just looking out for yourself. The rest of League too.”

You saw his face soften from its usual hardened, playful expression. You felt your confidence push up a bit. “Just lay off the accusatories, okay.? Not a fan of having all my hard work shoved back in my face. If I really wanted to work against you that much, I would’ve already. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to screw you over. Not to mention you sleep like the dead.” You teased him, not that you could help it.

This soft, mushy shit was way out of your comfort zone. Emotions weren’t something either of you talked about. Hell, it took him months to even start venting to you about work.

His lips turned up into the smallest of smiles, the tension relaxing around you both. “You're one to talk. You snore loud enough to challenge freight trains.”

You swatted at him, watching him dance away from the attack, your own smile shoving it’s way to your face. “I do not.”

“Video evidence on my phone says otherwise.” His usual smirk settled back onto his face as you gaped at him.

“You fucking recorded me.?” You were ready to slice into him, injured or not.

“When you say my name all cute like in your sleep, how could I not.?”

You scoffed at him. “Bullshit. I have better things to dream about.”

He chuckled, the sound going straight for your heart. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ace.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Well, if you're offering.” He winked at you, hands sliding out of his pockets as if he was actually considering your remark.

“As if. You staying or disappearing again.?” Back to casual. Easy. Definitely safer for your heart.

“Miss me, doll.?” He grabbed the pack you had resting on the counter, grabbing for one of the contents.

You rolled your eyes, hand out for one as well. “You wish. Answer the question.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at you, tossing you the pack instead before lighting the cigarette. “Sharing a bed with you.? How could I turn that down.?”

“Ha. You get the couch, pervert.” You lit your own, rolling your eyes. The smoke in your lungs felt like heaven against your nerves. The thought of the man in front of you in your bed had your thoughts straying to a place they didn’t belong.

His lips quipped up into a lazy grin. “We'll see, sweetheart.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, pointing the fingers holding the cigarette between the both of you. “We'll see nothing. You need to sleep and recover, I have work to do.”

“Working all night again.? Your fault if you work yourself into an early grave.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do me a favour and dress all ominous for my funeral. Make me look important.”

He chuckled at your remark. “Bold of you to assume I'd go.”

“Bold of you to think you wouldn’t be devastated without me. At least the pull-out couch. Poor thing has given you a place to sleep for almost a year.” Part of you was teasing, the other was stuck on what he would actually do if you actually did croak.

“It is a nice couch.” You watched the smoke roll slowly from his lips, wondering if it would taste different coming from him than your own stick. Your eyes widened at the thought. Where did that thought come from.?

He smiled lazily at you, like he knew your thoughts. “You know, legend has it that a kiss from a Siren can give you magical abilities. Breathing underwater,” He stepped closer to you, “Healing people,” another step, “Wonder if it’s the same with you.?”

You scoffed at him, trying to control your racing heart rate ay how close he was now. You could feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. What was happening.?

You swallowed hard, trying to remember how to breathe again. “I highly doubt I’m magical. Just cursed.”

“Cursed.?” His voice was lower, raspy, and anything but afraid. Shouldn’t he be terrified?

“You ever been overly high on adrenaline?” You tried to word this carefully.

He quirked an eyebrow at you amusingly. “I’m a pyromaniac, princess.”

“Imagine that feeling switched with lust. That’s what would happen if we ever swapped spit till the addictive in my saliva left your bloodstream. I could drive a person insane on their own sexual desires.” You wanted him to understand what would happen if he initiated what he was suggesting. It wouldn’t be pretty.

“You have your own built in aphrodisiac. Must be fun at parties.”

“Sure, if you like nursing the worst blue balls of your life just from kissing me.”

He grinned and you swore he was lying about not being a masochist. “Damn princess, that’s harsh. Their mistake though. They didn’t have the chance to fuck you.”

You tried to hide the dark blush slowly creeping up your face. “And you think you do?”

He cupped the side of your face, thumb slowly caressing your cheek bone. :Oh, I think my chances are pretty high.”

You sighed, wanting so bad to give in when his breath hit your lips. He was so close. If you raised your head up slightly, your lips would meet his. When did we go from fighting and teasing to this?

You put a hand against his chest, forcefully creating a space you didn’t want, but knew you needed. “Dabi… I don’t do one-night stands. I’d rather keep you as a friend than a fuck buddy. It’s not just an aphrodisiac, it forces oxytocin in your blood stream so your overwhelmed in euphoria for me. I’m not going to force you inot something you don’t actually feel.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against your own. If you weren’t so nervous and dazed out of your mind, you might’ve noticed how bad he was shaking too.

“Who said I didn’t?” His voice was low, barely a whisper. If you hadn’t been so close you doubt you would’ve heard it.

“You said yourself this was just a business arrangement. You don’t care about anyone but you.” Your thoughts were spiraling. He was joking, right? There was no way-

“Think we both know if this was only business I wouldn’t give a damn about whether you ate or slept.” His blue eyes bore into your own, demanding your attention. He wasn’t lying. He never did. Could you actually bring yourself to believe it though?

“You don’t really mean that. You’re just caught up in the moment.” He had to be.

He sighed and pulled away from you, his hands retreating back into his pockets. His usual lazy grin making it’s way back to his face.

“Guess I’ll have to prove it to you then, doll.” He walked away from you, flopping himself on the couch. “You have any tea left?”

“Uh, yeah.” You walked to the kitchen to start the kettle, one thought repeatedly throwing itself around your mind.

Fuck. No. Why him? When did you start loving him too?

You glanced a peak back over to him. He was sprawled out, hair messily covering his eyes. He looked more comfortable than you had ever seen him. You felt your heart swell in pride at the thought.

Maybe… Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

30 notes · View notes

ignitesthestxrs · 4 years ago

Note

i apoligze for this in advance but idk who else to ask. so i’m attracted to women like 92% of the time but i’ve been dating a guy for a few months now. it’s not super serious yet but i still find myself feeling sad about never having had a gf/worrying i never will and just feeling like a bad queer. i KNOW that it’s terribly biphobic of me to think that if i a femme enby date a cis dude i’m not queer enough. but i also cant get past it no matter how many times i look at these ugly brain thoughts

first of all: you never have to apologise for sending me stuff like this. it is a known facet of my tumblr, and while i know i am hardly around at all, i do periodically check my inbox and am never angry or annoyed or any other negative emotion to see people reaching out for help/advice. i don’t always have the mental bandwidth to respond, but i am only ever glad that people still consider this a safe place to reach out to.

there are a couple of things i want to address here! in no particular order:

you are not a future teller or a psychic, no matter how much your worries and anxieties insist that they know what is coming. the fact that you are in a relationship with a man in this moment has no bearing on what relationships you may find yourself in, in the future. the fact that the person you are dating currently identifies as a man is no guarantee that they will always identify that way, even! you could be with them for the next couple of weeks or for the rest of your life and there are a million permutations in between and around those two options.

what i’m saying is - obsessing over things you might not do in the future because of things you are doing now is a game that nobody wins. you have no guarantees of what the future is going to hold - you can make decisions now based on what you want and/or expect the future to hold, but stressing about the path not taken means that you’re going to spend all your time straining to see that path and like, walk into a big boulder in the path you’re actually on or something. currently, you’re not even stressing about the fork in the road that you came across. you’re on a single path, and you’re worrying about a path you haven’t come across yet, which may or may not diverge from the path that you’re on, or might be in a different forest entirely and and and- at some point you gotta love the path you’re on and take in the scenery, my darling.

which, incidentally - this path? not incompatible with queerness. and i know you know this, but feeling it can be! so hard! so i am here to remind and reassure you that - queerness is not an action. the nature of identity is not things that you do, it is the person that you are. you do not cease to be non-binary because your outfit changes - your fashion choices are simply a way of expressing your non-binary-ness, and they are not the only way, and if you are not using fashion to express your enbyness then that doesn’t make you not enby. you don’t stop being enby when there is no one there to look at you and make external judgements about your gender, and you do not stop being queer because you are a femme-adjacent person dating a cis dude.

queerness is a thing that you are. you can take actions that express that queerness more clearly to outside observation, but outside observation does not change the fact of your queerness. i will not deny that it can make it easier to participate in community, because community is in part made up of particular signs that individuals recognise in each other and gravitate towards - but who you date is only one such sign. i’m a lesbian who hasn’t dated anyone for over half a decade - am i less queer because i have not hooked up with a chick in that time? i am not. if i fuck a dude am i less of a lesbian? idk man that depends on how i feel about fucking a dude. am i romantically and sexually attracted to the dude, or was his dick just inside me? what if he just uses his fingers? i feel like i could feasibly have sex with a cis man out of sheer curiosity and still be a lesbian, sure, but what if there’s a single man that just perfectly meets me where i am despite my overwhelming preference and interest in women? what if that man is trans? what does that mEAN? at which point do we stop dissecting identity and carving lines into each other?

queerness is a useful umbrella term to cover those people who exist out of heternormativity - cismen attracted to ciswomen, ciswomen attracted to cismen, exclusively. the second the spokes of that umbrella start poking you instead of protecting you from the rain, it has ceased to do its job. identity is useful in that it helps us understand ourselves and it helps us find community in other people, but there are no perfect words that encapsulate the whole of our individual experience, and there are no individual experiences that perfectly match up with another person’s individual experience, even if we use the same word/s to describe ourselves.

you can’t be biphobic at your own experiences. it’s not biphobic to look at the way you have identified previously/up to a certain point, to recognise a difference in your current behaviour, and feel weird or discomforted by this difference. it’s not biphobic to need some time to figure shit out - who you want to be, how you want to identify, what outfit fits you best. i think identity works best as a conversation with yourself - i think we should all be checking in on ourselves to make sure that the way are living is expressing the way we are being. this urge to build walls of definable identity is a protective instinct meant to save us and gather us together from the very real threats of a heteronormative society, but it can also mean we get trapped in a place that no longer suit us.

some practical advice - if the idea of never dating a girl stresses you out that much, i’d take a break from dating this dude, because it sounds like you have some work to do in terms of figuring out what experiences you want to have in life. but only you can decide where that stress line fractures, you know? but if you read this post and you sit with it for a bit and you find that the experience of dating this man is still making you miserable, it’s okay to take some time away from it. you don’t deserve misery.

that being said - like, you’ve only been dating him a few weeks? it’s cool to just envision this relationship in terms of weeks. you truly don’t have to stretch the current experience you are having out to cover the rest of your life in one daunting ‘what if’. so long as everyone involved in a relationship is clear with the terms of engagement, go forth and short term yourself some fuckin joy.

i stress, i beg, do not deny yourself the pleasure of a joyful experience with another human soul now because you are worried about what this means about other people’s perception of some amorphous identity. you are queer. you are a femme-enby person largely attracted to woman, but dating a man. you are queer, you are enough, you don’t need to question that anymore. i think that the last year, last four years, last lifetime has more than proven that life is, frankly, too fucking short. seize your joy and run with it. whether that means dating this man or take a pause to breathe and reflect, or whatever else! you’ll still be queer.

be kind to yourself my love i wish you well <3

#hannah does advice #Anonymous

24 notes · View notes