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hobipaint · 3 years ago

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Graffiti and Chalk - one.

summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?

↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader

↳ genres: angst, eventual fluff?

↳ word count: 4.7K

↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of attempted murder.

one | two

a/n: this was supposed to be a one shot, but i decided to make it a two shot because inspiration struck at the twelfth hour. This is based on stigma tae, and has massive massive references to hyyh tae as well!! I'm warning you all. Written for the @bangtanwritingbingo prompt: chalk drawings. Beta read by @vaekth and @kookiestarlight who are possibly the most supportive and appreciative people I could have asked for, thank you so much!!

You'd thought that being an officer would mean solving cases for people who genuinely needed help. Not hunting around for a missing pumpkin.

"It's round, large, and I think it was slightly squishy, Y/N," the kid who had run up to you exclaimed again, while making gestures for round, large and squishy.

If the kid weren't this adorable, you'd squish him for being too loud at 8 in the morning.

You unlocked the door to your office, taking in the sight of the homey little cubicle that you maintained alone. Being the sole officer in a neighbourhood should be hard work, but in a neighbourhood where practically everybody is asleep? Not as much.

You sighed as you pulled the kid in - who by now had told you that his name was Sungwoo, and he was eight years old. His mother told him that if he ever lost anything precious he should head to the police, so here he was.

"Can you find my pumpkin?" He peered up at you as you tried to get the coffee machine started- well, as well as you can with a kid in the way. "It's round, large and squishy."

"Round, large, squishy. Got it." You smiled wearily at him, seeing how his eyes lit up at the sight of your notebook- the one he obviously thought you wrote your cases in. You took your espresso in a mug, running over to him before he damaged it. He ran over to it, picking it up, dropping it because of its weight and picking it up again.

"Can you write a message for Peter here?" He asked you, eyes wide and round as he stared at the brown leather bound book.

"Peter? I thought we were talking about your pumpkin?"

He nodded vigorously- strong enough to make you worry if his head would fall over. Flopping his hair to the side messily, he scampered to you as you settled in your chair, opening the last page of your book - where you had kept your post-its. "Peter is pumpkin! It's made of something- mom told me-" he put a hand to his head, trying to force his small head to think of big words, "Is it pushy?"

"Do you mean it is a plushie, Sungwoo?" You said, sighing and writing it down on a post-it note and sticking it on your desk.

"Yeah!" His eyes sparkled, and he bent his head down to the paper you gave him to scribble a hasty note for Peter. Once satisfied, he raised his head, giving the chit two pats before turning to you. "It's missing, Y/N. Can you find it?"

"Of course I can," you reassured him the best you could while half-asleep. The boy suddenly pulled you into a hug, happy tears spilling out of his eyes as he murmured thank you's over and over.

You held him for a few more seconds, understanding the worry that the kid would have over his plushie. You didn't understand why he had to bring it to you, though.

You felt a soft yet insistent buzz in your pant pockets all of a sudden, realizing it was your phone. You pulled yourself away from the crying child, and caressed his head while picking up the call.

"Good morning, Officer L/N." The coarse voice of your chief barked at you.

You sighed, not wanting to deal with any of his tantrums right after you dealt with the case of Peter the Pumpkin. "Good morning, Chief."

"I'm arriving at your office in about ten minutes. We have to discuss something important."

You sighed again, hand grabbing Sungwoo's as you led him outside the office. Time to clean up. "Of course, Sir."

"Why is this place so messy?" was the first thing you had to hear in the form of a greeting. When your chief said ten minutes, he clearly meant half an hour.

You'd spent some time clearing up cookie crumbs from your table, dusting any evidence of your multiple ramen packets, arranging the tables in proper order, lining the chairs up, and stuffing all the stuff you couldn't clear into a closet. It seemed clean enough to you.

"I shall clean it, Sir." You bowed your head once, carefully maintaining your expression so that the chief doesn't think of you as any more insolent than he already does.

"It doesn't reflect well upon the force to have a messy office, Y/N. I'm sure you were taught that," he said, pressing his finger to a certain spot on a table, and raising it up to show you. "Dust in our offices speaks of nonchalance. That is the last thing we'd want anyone to think of us is that we're nonchalant."

"I apologise, sir. I shall rectify it."

"I expect you to. Anyways," he said, dusting his hands and moving to another corner of the office, "that is not what I came here for." He settled into the chair- your chair, with the note for Peter the Pumpkin intact.

You prayed for him to ignore it.

"There's been growing signs of vandalism in the neighbourhood you're patrolling, Y/N," The chief said to you in a gruff tone, looking like an angry cat with his whiskers trembling. He wore a scowl to match the whole look. Luckily, his pondering eyes missed out on the missing pumpkin report. "I want you to catch that person. Why isn't it done yet?"

"They were untraceable, Sir. All we could capture was a navy blue hoodie and jeans. Nothing else. There's only graffiti and chalk all over the places he's been at, Sir. I tried looking for clues-"

"Keep looking, then."

"I'm trying, sir. I have asked the owners of all the shops on the street to hand over any CCTV footage they have of the person so that I can analyze it and try to nab him. It is a futile task till now, though."

The chief rubbed his hand hard on his thigh, the sound of his palm scratching against the coarse trouser fabric reaching you. "They are being a menace, Y/N. A nuisance to those who want peace in this neighbourhood. You are supposed to bring that peace for them, not complain about not being able to get that person. That is your job." He looked you directly in the eye, anger clearly visible. "Or would you wish to leave?"

You twitched in anger, forcing yourself to remain calm. The chief had a penchant for transferring those who were unsuccessful in their cases to different stations- the more transfers, the more incompetent you seemed. You had already begun at a relatively low level, and you couldn't afford going lower. You nodded stiffly.

"Any more complaints, and I'd be forced to transfer you somewhere else and hand this case over to someone competent. And you know it wouldn't be safe for your career, Y/N." He rose up from the chair, heading towards the door. "I want it resolved. Soon."

You bowed your head, in a sense of respect for your senior you'd actually never felt. It was annoying, honestly, and your hatred for this man just grew more and more. You had requested since the day of your graduation from the academy to be put in the forensics department - something that actually was your specialty. But no, here you were, patrolling a neighbourhood where the only problem was a kid scribbling on walls and leaving an alphabet behind.

Taehyung kicked a pebble aside, letting it roll aimlessly along the half-paved, half-broken road. "I'm out of green paint, again."

He glanced at the aluminium shutters he had decided to vandalize- no, beautify- today, deciding that the subtle decor of the florist's shop and the grim outside of the tattoo shop - both needed redecorations. He didn't care who was the owner. He didn't care how many reports they filed about the eerie similarities of the vandal to Mrs. Kim's son - they never cared about him before, so they'd never care about him now. That, he was sure of.

His red paint had been used to make the outer petals of a rose that he had dedicatedly been drawing the previous day, until the owner had yelled from his house above for him to stop. That was early, though. 11 AM was a predictable time for a vandal to walk through the streets, spraying graffiti and dusting chalk over every nook and corner until he was satisfied by the art he had created.

His wristwatch ticked three as he picked up his blue paint can. Just a few hours later, but effective enough for the owner to have fallen asleep - Taehyung could definitely justify that by the snores that echoed behind the shutters.

"Reporting. Reporting. Vandal. Street 13. I repeat. Vandal. Street 13."

The cuckoo clock that your mom had gifted you to decorate the less than neat office struck three just when the report came through. Just when you were about to settle for the night.

You pushed your papers aside, leaving the missing car complaint on your table. Holding your baton, slipping your ID into the pocket of your jeans and dusting crumbs off your chiffon blouse, you picked up the radio.

"Street 13. Officer Y/N reporting."

The gruff voice of your chief growled back at you. "The vandal has been found on camera, finally. The florist's CCTV; he sent a complaint. In fact, he's been wandering the streets for half an hour now, Y/N. Where have you been?"

You were about to form a legible enough response, say that the paperwork he had set for you was what consumed your time, but he beat you to it. Sighing into the phone, he said, "Nevermind that. Get to his location immediately, and capture him." His voice stumbled for a second. "Take the taser, just in case."

"Yes sir," you responded meekly, and disconnected the radio.

You looked around for your keys, going past a board full of cases that were never relevant enough to be solved - especially the one of the missing pumpkin. The types of cases you received here made you shudder, this wasn't why you had spent so much time training at the university. You tucked your radio into your jacket as you pushed it on your shoulders, grabbing onto a half-eaten sandwich to satisfy your hunger along the way.

"I have to get that person before he robs me of a chance at the forensics department forever," you thought while speeding towards the location told to you - while maintaining the speed limit, of course. No space for nonchalance.

You'd wanted to finish all your paperwork today and get back to an analysis you were working on - preferably get a nap too. Capturing a neighbourhood graffiti artist- this isn't what you had wanted to do.

This wasn't what Taehyung had wanted to do.

The paint dried off slowly on the metal surface, a small drop of ink trickling down where Taehyung had stopped. The design wasn't matching what he had thought at all, he thought as he stared at it. Time to switch it up.

He picked up the painting from right where he had stopped it - merging blue into the red petals as he was on his way to the centre of the flower. Painstakingly, he traced lines that would capture the delicate curves of the outlines, serving to further merge into the picture.

His vandalism wasn't ugly drawings, nudity, or someone just spraying 'SUCKAZ!' all over a wall. That is for amateurs. His was nuanced art. Art that he couldn't do in the day. The ones he could never showcase in the galleries. The ones he buried in the deepest recesses of his mind, burning a hole into the boxes he stuffed them into. This was his freedom.

Taehyung picked up the black can. Fixing the nozzle in the proper direction, he shook the bottle- once, twice. The paint came out in spurts at first, before settling into a steady spray. Black always enhances everything, doesn't it? Enhancement that never seemed beautiful - it was just there to make it stand out. Be noticed. Be shamed. Be suspected. Look deadly, or even look dead. Even the most innocent faces look devious with black. What's to say his flower would still look alive?

The black slowly spiralled across the expanse of the shutter, coiling over and over in what Taehyung thought could be the leaves. The thorns that held the flower back from reaching the epitome of beauty- at least, outwardly beauty. He detested how overhyped a rose was- just as destructible as all other flowers. Where's the beauty in something temporary?

The green paint can had been used up last time when he had sprayed ivy all over the fashion boutique's doors- all of which had been washed away. A shame, Taehyung thought, and picked up his airbrush. Filling a little green into the small holder, he tested it a few times on the footpath - he'd scrub chalk all over it later on, he still needed to add more to beautify the shops. He carefully painted leaves all over the black he had sprayed, letting them flatten out against the metal at the back and form a protective layer around the rose. Unnecessary by all means.

He then switched to a darker green, picking up the airbrush once again to add some subtlety in the leaves. He watched the spray slowly settle right where he wanted it - paint, unlike his life, was something he had full control of. It was liberating.

Standing back and twirling the can over and over in his hand, Taehyung was somewhat satisfied with what he made. A rose. Simple, overrated. Just like flowers. The leaves stood out more to him, along with the thorns; their prickly points being the focus of the picture. Perfect.

He picked up his personal favorite - a small can of black paint who's nozzle had been crafted by him. Stooping down to the corner of the shutter, he slowly sprayed across it. Black settling on silver gray, one single alphabet. V.

That's it. He was done. Just an hour's work.

He turned to the tattoo artist's shop, the shutter a colourful mess littered with messy black stains and drawings the owner probably thought was hip. Taehyung cringed. How was it possible for an artist to be that bad at decorating their own shop? He walked a few steps back, admiring the size of it and thinking of what he could fill there. Something that would really annoy a tattoo artist- he deserved it after having ruined the shutter like that. Picking up a blade, Taehyung set to scrape away the skulls- which, he found, were stickers. Gross. Peeling them off, he set to chip away at the paint- the soft thunk, thunk of the blade slapping against the metal echoed around him. Hopefully, not too loud.

The metal loudly protested as Taehyung pressed his blade against what seemed to be an outline of a body, done with black, and some random inscriptions that he could notice were wearing away. This had to be really old.

Scratch, scratch, scratch. The blade kept pushing at the layers of colour, forcing them off the metal. He could see glints of silver shining underneath it, dim under the streetlight.

Scratch, scratch, scratch. He kept pushing at the paint, tongue poking out as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He had to do it now. There was no other time for him to do this. Now. Now. Now.

The silver suddenly glinted more brightly- a shade impossible under the dull, flickering yellow of the streetlights. White lights created a halo of sorts around him, and Taehyung knew his time was up. He smiled. At least one place got the beauty they deserved.

"Hands up!" A voice yelled behind him, and he could hear a click that definitely sounded like a taser gun.

Looking up, he cursed loudly at everyone and anyone. He could have finished it tonight. His work would have been done, and he would have been on his way. He turned around, annoyance sparking in his eyes with sarcastic acceptance lining his lips in the way they curled. "You found me," he murmured, before letting himself get slammed against the very shutters he was painting.

Fate played wonderful games, and for now, you were its newest loser.

"Name." You spoke, your voice monotone yet clear.

"You know me, Y/N. Don't pretend you don't." Taehyung crooned, smirking while he rotated the glass that rested atop the table.

Your annoyance only grew. When you were told that there was a vandal in the streets, you didn't expect it to be a familiar face.

Kim Taehyung was known to you. Someone who had lived right next door. Someone who had been known as a lovable, obedient boy by the neighbours- you still remembered how your mother would gush about him. Someone you knew, and once, cared for.

Someone who was later only known as the kid who flung a bottle on his stepfather's face and was sentenced for five years - which, in fact, was a misjudgement. He was innocent, and the video of him attacking the man was manipulated. Fake. Edited. Whatever you chose wouldn't be enough to change anything in the past.

Taehyung had come out of jail a changed man, weeping openly in the streets when he heard of his family's fate- what he had heard, though, was something you were unaware of. Two years had since passed, and you no longer heard your mother talking about the Kim's boy. He had simply vanished, for you. No traces anywhere.

But here he was. Kim Taehyung. Alive, breathing. Smirking. And spinning a glass over and over.

"Give that to me." You said, snatching the glass away from him and keeping it aside. Settling into your chair, you pulled your laptop closer once again, mustering the most serious look you can. "I'm not playing around, Taehyung. Talk properly. Behave. You're already in a rough spot."

Taehyung laughed; a mirthless, almost painful laughter. "I can't see how anything can be bad here, officer. With all due respect, of course." He straightened up, still keeping that smirk on his face.

You exhaled your breath slowly, holding back all the words you wanted to hurl at him. "Name?"

"Kim Taehyung."

You typed it in, feeling the way each letter pad was pushed down before you moved over it- momentary, but fulfilling. "Age."

"As of today, 25."

"Job."

"Nothing. Add the official vandal of Street 13 if you want."

You raised an eyebrow, fingers abruptly coming to a stop. "Behave."

"No job, officer." Taehyung said, settling further ahead in his seat and pausing, before speaking again. "Why do you need this though? I already have a criminal record, don't I?"

You turned your face to him, the sudden change in light exposure hurting your eyes. The hurt they felt couldn't possibly fathom the depths of pain you saw churning in Taehyung's eyes, like pits of fire. They were seemingly blank, but you had known him. Known him long enough to know that this wasn't who he used to be. This wasn't him.

"Once you were proven innocent, your record was wiped clean. The manipulators were given the charges that you had." You looked at him while saying this, trying to notice any emotions that would make way to his face. None. No twitching lips, no annoyance in his eyebrows. Just his eyes that seethed anger. "Family?"

"None."

You raised an eyebrow. "None?"

Taehyung groaned, getting up from the chair and turning around, hands on his waist. "Don't make me repeat all that shit again. You know it, Y/N."

"Sit back down, Taehyung." You said, irritated by his tantrums. It was four in the morning, for God's sake. You didn't have the energy to deal with him. "I need details if you want to get out of this without any charges."

"Dead. Most of them. Those who aren't, disowned me as soon as I got into jail. Something about not wanting to be related to a criminal." He said lowly, a gruff tone to his voice as he spoke the last words.

You hummed lowly, not knowing what to say. How do you possibly respond to something like this? You weren't trained for interrogation at university. You specialized in forensics. This wasn't supposed to be your job.

"I'm sorry that happened, Taehyung." You managed after a few moments of silence.

"Don't be." He shrugged, then looked up. "You don't mean it."

"I still need a reason as to why you are destroying the places around here with your graffiti and chalk drawings, Taehyung." You ignored him and continued, rising from your chair to let your sore limbs relax. "Unfortunately, I can't let you leave till you give me a reason."

Taehyung stayed mum, much to your annoyance.

You slammed your hand on the table, a loud slap that stung your hand, but also Taehyung's ears, it seemed. "Reasons. Now."

"I just wanted to."

"Wanted to? So you were voluntarily damaging someone else's property?"

He raised his head to look at you; once, twice. Then with a resigned sigh, he responded. "Yeah. But I was beautifying it."

"A beautification they never asked for?" You said, as Taehyung groaned behind you.

"No one gives a damn, Y/N-"

"The police do." You say, preparing to send a message to your chief over the radio. "Got him."

"The police didn't care when I was innocent in that case, Y/N. Stop pretending like they'll care for me when I'm actually guilty of something."

"That case was mishandled."

"Yeah, Y/N. It was mishandled. But only for you." You turned to him, shocked at the venom that suddenly laced his voice.

In the few seconds that you had turned away from him, his eyes had turned bloodshot. Red rimmed the remaining white of his eyes. "You wouldn't know what it is to be locked up for harming people you loved, Y/N. You wouldn't understand that pain," he murmured, loud enough for you to hear him in the echoes of the office.

You wanted to scream at him. Tell him how he had hurt you. Remind him of all the things you had forced yourself to forget over seven years. The way your heart still hurt for him.

"You're right. I won't understand. So sit here, and explain yourself." You pulled your chair back, seating yourself in it and gazing up at him expectantly.

He was just staring at you- you couldn't say whether his gaze held expectations or disdain. Then, shaking his head, "You're still just as stubborn, aren't you," he said, softly smiling as he slipped into his chair. "Adamant, and so, so confusing."

"You don't know me anymore, Taehyung. Don't pretend. Anyways," you said, turning to your laptop again. "I need-"

"No." He stood up once again- why was he standing? "Answer me, now."

He rested his arms on the table, chest leaning forward to balance himself- and now, you could see the changes he had brought in himself. In place of lean muscle there were defined biceps you could see being flexed. In place of short hair was curly locks that fell until his crown, now hanging over. In place of a cheeky grin that sent your blood rushing to your cheeks was a pair of lips, set tight in one line that sent chills down your spine. There was warmth to him, yes, but it was different. This wasn't the Taehyung you knew.

"You knew that I was back." Your eyes moved back to look into his. And you noticed more changes. Instead of a carefree twinkle, there was dark, brooding black filling his pupils. "You knew. I'd seen you that night."

The night when you had seen him falling to his knees, soaking himself in the rain as he gave his tears as a tribute to the gushing skies. The night he returned. The night you thought he didn't know you.

"I'd seen you after that as well. That day at the convenience store, I'd seen you buying candies. You still buy the same kind, don't you? Lemon flavoured."

The night you gave up on your dreams to become an analyst in the forensic lab for the police. The night where you stared up to question everything you did as your feet soaked in the snow. Two years ago. The night he thought he knew you.

"You're hurting me by not remembering us, Y/N."

"We were nothing to begin with." You cleared your throat, settling further back into your chair. "You asked me on a date, and stood me up. We're nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Taehyung opened his mouth to speak again, but leaned back, standing tall, straight. You almost missed his warmth - no. This wasn't the warmth of a person you had cared for.

"It's so cold outside, Y/N, why haven't you turned on the heater?" Your chief's voice filled the room after a few minutes of absolute silence. Taehyung had taken to leaning on the wall, now, maintaining an anxious distance. "Did you get the man?"

You simply pointed towards Taehyung, watching the chief's face flash with recognition, brows hastily furrowing as a frown formed on his face.

"Kim Taehyung?" Your chief asked, coming up to the two of you. "Is it really you? Are you the vandal?"

Taehyung remained silent, head hung.

The chief inhaled, then exhaled; loud enough for you to hear him - "It is you, isn't it. What happened after the attempted murder case?"

"Proven false, Sir." You informed your superior. For some odd reason, you felt like you had to come to Taehyung's defense.

"I am aware of that, Y/N." The chief said, looking Taehyung up and down. As reported, he was in the navy blue sweatshirt and ripped jeans- and you could see in the clear light of your office that he had ripped the holes into them himself. Something he did before to look fashionable, he used to say.

"I don't really want to put any charges on you, Taehyung. Why did you do it?"

Taehyung spoke, voice gravelly. "It was liberating, Sir."

"You broke the law, though."

"The law broke me, Sir."

The chief took another deep breath and settled onto the chair where Taehyung was sitting just a few moments ago. His wrinkled skin seemed to age even more. Taehyung was close with the chief as a student, that you knew- you had seen him going multiple times to his office to get clarifications after class. You wondered how the chief felt - did he feel the same sting of recognition you had felt?

"I don't want you to get any charges, Taehyung," he said, before laughing and adding, "all these years, and I still have my student in my head."

He stood up and turned to face Taehyung again, worry reflecting in his eyes as he held him by the shoulders. "You're still the Taehyung I know, right?"

Taehyung looked away, down, his face coming in your line of vision - you could see the small rivulets that flowed from the pool of emotions in his eye, down the lines that worry, anger and disbelief had formed on his face. Sniffing softly, he turned back to the chief. "Yes, Sir."

The chief visibly relaxed, his arms coming down to his sleeves, gripping Taehyung. "Good. I hope it remains that way."

He returned to his stern stance, and faced you. "I suggest you keep him here for the night, Y/N." he looked outside, the sky just turning sapphire. "I shall return in the morning to talk. Get some rest while you're at it. And Taehyung? Eat something."

The chief swiftly departed the office, and Taehyung slumped into the chair. "Seven years, and the old man still remembers me," he laughed mirthlessly, lips twisting in an amused smile. "Always appreciated him."

"And so did he," you mentioned. Taehyung was always brought up as a comparison for your batch of officers to emulate. Even when he was in jail, he was remembered among you as a diligent student and worker. "'Remember his good', he used to say. He always remembered you."

"And you?" He suddenly looked at you. His eyes were no longer bloodshot - there were small remnants of anger, but all you could see was wistfulness. "Did you remember me, Y/N?"

a/n: yup, I stopped there. Do leave some feedback if you liked it- in the comments, or as an ask! Also, if you wish to be tagged for the next part, you can ask for that too! Thank you for giving your time to this fic,, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! love, hazel💞

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fragmentedink-archived · 3 years ago

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Hell to Pay: Chapter Fifty-Five

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX, LI, LII, LIII, LIV

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

Sorin hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but when he stirred the next morning, Cyrus was still breathing, even if he was still very much unconscious. Sorin checked that very carefully, resting his paws on Cyrus’ chest and sniffing at the witches face until he felt Cyrus’ breaths ruffle his whiskers. Satisfied with how steady they were, Sorin dropped to the floor silently and padded into the kitchen.

Cameron was already up, or maybe he’d never gone to bed. He was currently cooking, and he even had coffee going in the correct coffee maker. Sorin padded closer, tail tip twitching. He propped himself up, poking his head above the counter. Being the size of a large dog, he didn’t need to do much to see what Cameron was cooking: bacon and eggs and judging by the smell coming from the oven, biscuits too.

“Shift back,” Cameron said.

Sorin’s ears flattened, but he did so, taking a step back from Cameron now that he had two legs and a pair of hands. Rather than snipping at Cameron, Sorin pulled down a couple of mugs. “How is Darius?” he asked.

Cameron flicked his eyes in Sorin’s direction before sliding back to the bacon he was currently focusing on. “He’s sleeping,” he said, after several heartbeats. “I’ll need to make more food that he can eat, if Lev was anything to go by.”

Sorin lifted a brow. “Well feel free to use our kitchen,” he responded dryly.

Cameron just put a plate in Sorin’s hands before promptly returning to his cooking. Dismissing him.

Sorin set the plate down, looking back at the bedroom. “If he needs easier food, we’ve got everything to make chicken noodle soup. The chicken is in the freezer.”

Cameron nodded tersely. “Thank you,” he said, stiffly.

Sorin nodded, and then paused, picking up on movement in the bedroom. He padded away , and all but threw himself on Cyrus as soon as he realized the witch was pushing himself upright.

“Ow,” Cyrus muttered.

Sorin hugged him, before he pulled back. “Hey. You’re okay?”

Cyrus nodded. “Yeah, just tired.” He reached over, ruffling Sorin’s curls. “No magic, though.”

As Sorin watched, Cyrus rubbed his face with shaking hands. “No magic?”

“Cant feel any,” Cyrus muttered. “I expect that was the price Asmi mentioned.”

“Cameron is making breakfast.” Sorin fluffed Cyrus’ pillows. “You feel up to eating?”

“Yeah, just help me up,” Cyrus said.

“Oh, no, I meant-”

Cyrus leveled him a patient look. Sorin shut up and helped Cyrus to his feet. When Sorin settled Cyrus at the table, Cameron placed a plate in front of him too.

“I told Cameron that he could use our kitchen to make Darius soup.”

Cyrus gave Cameron a long look, and then gave a very convinced, “Hm.”

“Glad to see you’re still alive,” Cameron said with a straight face.

“Are you and Darius staying here?” Cyrus asked.

“We’ll be gone within the next few hours,” Cameron replied.

Cyrus took a few bites, likely just so Sorin would stop glaring at him, and then waved a hand to shoo him away, even when Sorin huffed at him. “Is he awake?” Cyrus asked.

“Not yet,” Cameron said, finishing up the food he was preparing, likely for Darius. “I’ll let him sleep for a bit yet. I imagine he’s feeling a bit drained. Until then, I will leave this in your refrigerator to eat when he wakes.”

Cyrus dipped his head. “Of course,” Cyrus said. “I would like to talk to him before you leave, if he’s up for it.”

“I will make sure he knows,” Cameron said. “Do you need anything else from me?”

“No,” Cyrus promised. “I’m sure I’ll nap for a good several days once you’ve left, but that can wait.’

“Alright,” Cameron said. “Then I’ll excuse myself while you eat.”

Cameron went to wash his hands carefully before disappearing back through the house, likely to Darius’ room.

Sorin watched Cyrus until he was sure that his witch had eaten his fill, and then scooped him up. Cyrus might have an inch on him, but Sorin had demonic strength to help. Once he was sure Cyrus was tucked into bed, he ducked back into the kitchen to start cleaning. And maybe get himself a cup of coffee.

---

Cameron quietly slipped into Darius’ bedroom and shut the door behind him. Darius’s eyes were closed, making his face smooth and serene in his sleep. That particular look, that expression, that face had been buried so deeply into his subconscious, Cameron hadn’t let himself think of Darius not even once since after the punishment bestowed onto him by his brother and the horde of demons under his thumb.

Cameron moved to sit on the chair he had placed next to the bed; as close as he could get without disturbing Darius in his sleep. Cameron laced his fingers in his hair and heaved a quiet, low sigh, dragging more weariness from his chest.

Even if he could go back and do it again, if he was left alone to be beaten and fucked to the point of blood and pain and blackout, Cameron would have made the exact same decision and received the exact same punishment without any regret.

Cameron closed his eyes and breathed for two heartbeats before carefully brushing his fingers along Darius’ folded hands. Warmth was still leeched away, unsurprisingly, but they were still soft as they had always been.

He tracked every rise and fall of Darius’ chest, even through the tightness in his throat. He tried swallowing it down, trying to force it down. Even though it didn’t budge. It was almost as if the last five hundred years of very carefully placed glass started splintering around him and he couldn’t cement them all back together- couldn’t refortify them.

He hastily wiped away any wetness from his cheeks and scrubbed his face, only to be met with a very cool hand on his.

Cameron’s head snapped up and he almost pulled back, but Darius was already latched on, weakly, but latching on nonetheless. Cameron forced himself to look up from the delicate brown hands in his pale ones to the gold, concerned eyes staring at him.

“You should be asleep,” Cameron said, ignoring the tightness in his voice. He cleared his throat, or at least tried. “You need to be resting.”

Darius gave him a faintly amused look that suggested he was well arrested enough as he brushed his thumb across Cameron’s cheek.

He pulled back only to grab the stick-it notes from the night stand to scribble, 'You should try it sometime, my Cameron.'

Cameron’s nose wrinkled, but that didn’t stop him from trying to blink away more tears. Darius cocked his head and wrote, 'When was the last time you slept?'

“I’ve been busy.”

'Busy taking care of everyone besides yourself,' Darius retorted.

Cameron was too exhausted to roll his eyes and slumped forward against his will. Darius running his fingers through Cameron’s hair made his throat close up even tighter. More tears shed than he cared for, but he wasn’t able to stop them.

Darius pressed his lips to the top of Cameron’s hair, inhaling deeply. He heard the stick-it notes be moved to the bed. After a heartbeat, and then one more, Darius' voice could hardly be made out. “I forgive you.”

---

Cyrus waited until Cameron was off packing the car (with what, Cyrus wasn't sure, but he suspected it was a ploy to get out of the house for a moment) before he snuck into Darius’ room. He meant to stand and talk to him, but as soon as he made it to the room he flopped down beside Darius.

“Nice to talk to you without relying on magic,” Cyrus said, eyes sliding shut despite himself.

Darius scribbled a 'You as well.' On his pad of paper.

“You’ll have to get my phone number when Cameron gets you a phone. I doubt I’ll be allowed to visit any time soon. I’m pretty sure I’ve been barred from demonic territories. Understandably so.”

Darius nodded thoughtfully. 'Of course. I’m sure I can have Cameron bring me to you if needed. Maybe this time there will be less black magic and a little more black tea?’

Cyrus smiled. “I’d like that,” he said tiredly.

Darius returned his smile. ‘You should rest.’

“I should,” Cyrus agreed. “But you are my guest.”

‘I will be out of your hair soon.’

“You’re not a problem,” Cyrus assured him.

Darius looked rather amused with Cyrus’ sentiment, but his eyes flicked to the doorway where Cameron appeared moments later. “I’m finished packing the car,” Cameron said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve already wired money to your account for your troubles.” He turned his focus to Darius. “I’m ready when you are.”

“You don’t have to pay me,” Cyrus said.

Cameron looked at him as if Cyrus were a pest that needed swatting. “And yet I already have,” he said, dismissively. “Put it in charity and I’ll double it. Besides, I’m sure you’ll be looking for a new place to live soon since you’re exiled from Razya.”

Cyrus sighed, looking over at Darius instead. “Good luck, going home with him,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll need it.”

Eyes crinkling, Darius’ warm smile returned, more amused than anything else.

---

Lev was the closest, so he trotted tiredly to open the front door when he heard someone knock. He was quite surprised to see Cameron carrying Darius. Lev skittered back automatically, even as a smile broke across his face.

“Darius!” He switched his gaze to Cameron. “You’re home.”

Darius waved at him, but Cameron had already started down the hall, presumably to the bedroom. “Is the kitchen clean?”

“Is the- oh!” Lev scampered after him, eyes wide. “Yeah. Yes. I went over it twice once Nik was done cooking. There’s even some leftovers in the fridge for you too.”

“Good.”

Lev scrambled to open the bedroom doors once they reached their destination. He watched Cameron hesitate, ever so slightly, before walking in and gently placing Darius on the made bed. “I will be taking residence in one of the other bedrooms, as this one already belonged to Darius. You and Nik will also sleep elsewhere- in your rooms, if you wish.” Cameron very pointedly didn’t look at Darius as he said any of this. “Is the loud-mouth still here?”

“Nik?” Lev asked, in confusion, before, “-Oh. Ash?”

Cameron gave him an irritable-yet-patient look.

“Yes, Ash is here. And Celeste and Dakota. I’ve been trying to help Celeste.” He hesitated, “And keep an eye on Nik. He’s been in a mood.”

Cameron sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “When isn’t he in a mood,” he muttered. “Will you go find him before he cracks his head open on the way here?”

Lev ducked around him, surprised to find Cameron let him as he threw his arms around Darius as gently as he could. When he breathed deep, the scent of cinnamon and sunlight was mixed with the faintest, almost familiar scent of death. “I’ve missed you,” Lev promised, pulling back.

For just a moment, Darius pulled him back enough to hug him a little tighter. When he let Lev go, there was a small smile on his face. Lev squeezed his hand, and then turned around.

“I’ll go get Nik,” he promised Cameron, lingering long enough to almost touch Cameron’s hand.

“I said Ash,” Cameron said.

“You-?” Lev frowned, pulling back. “Oh. Sorry?” He backed out of the bedroom.

Ash was sitting in the makeshift nursery they’d set up for Dakota, holding the infant. Celeste was reading in a chair nearby, but she looked up when Lev came in the room.

“Is everything okay, Levant?” Celeste asked.

“Yeah,” Lev said, watching Ash angle his head in Lev’s direction. “Cameron’s home. He wanted to see Ash.”

“Well it’s not like I can see Cameron,” Ash retorted, but glowered once Celeste cut him a look. “Stop looking at me like that. I know you’re looking at me, Celeste,” he said, irritably.

“Then stop giving me a reason to look at you like that,” She replied, getting up to take the sleeping babe from Ash’s arms. “He’ll go with you.”

Ash got to his feet and started in Lev’s direction. Lev hesitantly took Ash’s arm, avoiding Ash’s russet gaze even if he couldn’t see anything. The walk back was a very quiet one. The silence was particularly pointed, and Lev was not willing to break it.

Cameron was seated on the edge of the bed by the time they got back. Darius had laced his fingers with Cameron, and didn’t seem inclined to let go. “He’s on the bed,” Lev said to Ash.

Ash focused his attention in that direction. “Well? What did you want?”

“Are you able to do your healer thing or are you only as good as your magic?” Cameron asked, ignoring the cutting look Darius gave him. “If you are, I can have Lev retrieve Sazra.”

Anger and embarrassment warped Ash’s features. “Not without my equipment I can’t. I’m about as useful as a human, no thanks to you.” Darius looked pained, but Ash seemed unfazed.

“I can go get Sazra and see if she has equipment you can borrow,” Lev offered.

Ash pulled away from him. “Oh you go do that.”

Lev winced, but went trotting off again, stifling his sigh. It seemed like everyone was in a mood today. Sazra certainly wouldn’t be pleased to see him; she never was.

Her striking silver eyes pinned him in place the moment he stepped into her workspace. As always, he tried not to be unnerved by the lack of pupils, and instead took a small breath. “Um. Cameron sent me? He, uh- Ash? Needs to borrow some equipment? Darius- Cam brought Darius home. And- um. Please?”

Sazra pulled out from her desk. “I’m not too sure what that blind fool can do with my supplies and I do not feel like letting him try, either.” She grabbed a few supplies. “I will come myself, as he is a demon. Your angel can focus on being useful for someone else.”

Lev nodded quickly. “O-oh okay,” he said. “Can I help,” he added automatically. He flushed, and added, “Carrying things or, um, anything?”

She gave him a very long assessing look before holding out her supplies. “Don’t ruin any of these,” she warned. “They’re older than you.”

“Yes ma’am,” Lev said, cradling them close.

When she swept out of the room, Lev scuttled after her, keeping a respectful distance between them. If it seemed like she hesitated before leaving her basement rooms, well surely Lev imagined it.

---

Raziel knew better than to leave her wings out; or at least, it was an old instinct she had yet to curb. In the demons’ castle, it’d never been a good idea to flaunt that she was an angel.

Still, she was here on official business; this meeting had been set almost a year ago, now. If she was the type to think so, she would have thought Biela had set it so far in the future on purpose.

But no, likely the young queen had lots of things on her plate. Raziel didn’t need her magic to tell her that.

Biela didn’t keep her waiting. When Raziel knocked on her office door, she got called in immediately. Though she knew how busy Biela was, Biela’s desk was clear. It didn’t surprise Raziel, but she was quietly pleased about it nonetheless.

“Thank you for seeing me,” Raziel said politely.

Biela gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “Have a seat. What did you want to talk to me about?”

Raziel sat, folding her hands over one knee. “It’s been several centuries since I’ve been able to ask this of a monarch in Razya. I used to come freely, to speak with Mizra in their temple, and I’d like permission to do so again.” She smiled slightly. “I have had a connection with Mizra for a very long time, and the most recent war has kept me from visiting. While Baylor is working to dismantle the structures Mikael built to disrupt the gods’ presence in Liewen, I’d like to reestablish contact with Mizra here.”

Biela had not returned her smile. “Yes,” she said, folding her hands on the desk. “I imagine war puts a damper on spiritual practices. We’re still in the process of rebuilding many of our temples that Mikael’s army burned to the ground. Very few were left untouched.”

Raziel inclined her head ever so slightly. “That was something else I wanted to speak to you about. I’d like to help fund some of the rebuilding; not just for Mizra’s temples, but the rest of them, too.” For the most part she left her mind open, so Biela could see without effort that she meant it.

Biela leaned back and eyed her, gaging her. But eventually she said, “That would be helpful. There may be a temple or two you could go to, though it will be entirely up to the priestesses there if they allow you to connect to Mizra. I am not about to overstep my bounds with the priestesses. They can be rather troublesome when provoked.”

“I’m aware,” Raziel promised. “It’s been a while, but Vanja and Kanta should still remember me, if they’re still around.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “I believe they’ve managed to keep out of the crossfire. I believe they managed to save some of the older texts as well. I would suggest reaching out to them first- so they are not caught off guard. Many of the priestesses are new and rather leery of outsiders.”

Raziel nodded. “Of course,” she promised. “I wouldn’t want to cause them any more distress than they've already been through.”

“It is the decent thing to do,” Biela said. “Was there anything else you needed to ask of me?”

“No,” Raziel said, standing. “Thank you, both for your blessing, and for your time.”

“Very well, then,” Biela said. “You may take your leave. And tell your granddaughter to stay out of trouble while you’re at it.”

Raziel nodded, and would have passed through the doorway without another word if something hadn’t struck her. While her connection to Mizra had waned, the blessing the god had given her was still considerable, when she listened. “Congratulations,” Raziel said automatically, looking back at Biela, before she closed the door behind her and went on her way.

---

Sazra finished looking Darius over and confirmed with the witch and her useless mate that Darius was indeed intact and healthy. She only noticed his weakened muscles and his fragile state as the result of not being used for well, five hundred years due to the unfortunate circumstances of being dead.

“I think that a similar treatment that you used on that one will suffice for Darius. There seems to be nothing out of the ordinary besides being rather weak.” She cut Lev a sharp look. “And if there is a heat, I would suggest doing as your body wants instead of falling ill. I do not think it wise to tempt the gods a third time with idiotic choices.”

Lev made the choice of climbing up on the bed next to Darius, as if the weakened demon between the two of them was a sufficient defense against Sazra’s ire. Darius took her hand in his as if to say that he would follow her advice to the T.

If Sazra was the sentimental type, she might even say she missed him, too.

Sazra took her hand back and smoothed down the simple grey dress hanging from her frame. She turned to Cameron, who was watching her rather keenly. “I do warn you, he has been dead for a far longer period of time than your pet was. So it may take longer for him to be back to peak form. He might not even get back to peak form at all.”

Toying with things outside the realm of nature rarely had good consequences. There were sure to be consequences for this latest bastardization of natural forces. At least if the screams she had heard the day before were any indication.

“Noted,” Cameron said, evenly. “I will have you check on him every few hours then. You and the witch and hash out a schedule later, I’m sure.”

The lady witch nodded. “I will be sure to talk to her later,” she promised.

With Cameron’s permission, Sazra found her way back to where she belonged, in the rooms Cameron had needlessly made larger when he inherited the house from Asmadai’s death.

She had not stepped foot outside of this house in well over three thousand years and had no intention of ever doing so again. She found her little dwelling the least stressful and full of far fewer threats to face.

She went to work finding and making more medicines and ointments that would surely help aid Darius in his recovery from, well, death.

She made sure to include the angel’s suppressants in her work as well. She did not need any more extremely loud and annoying children disrupting her learning and working.

---

Raziel was surprised at how quickly the priestesses had approved her visit. She’d expected to wait months, and she’d not even left demonic territories before they’d invited her to come. She’d turned around when she knew; no point in wasting a trip and coming back later.

Mizra’s temple, or at least the one Raziel was visiting, had been mostly untouched by the war, though she assumed that was partly because of how deep in Razya it was hidden. The temple itself was pretty simple, but there was an elegance to it that Raziel had always appreciated.

She moved through the temple quietly, making sure that she kept her gaze politely averted from the younger priestesses. Their gazes followed her, and the weight of the confusion, fear, and even a little anger. Understandably so. Raziel was an angel in their holiest of places, their sanctuary from all the horrors of the world that they’d already faced. She hated knowing she was the one to cause them more distress.

Vanja was the one to greet her, and if the warmth in her green gaze was buried under tiredness and grief, it was still there. Her blonde hair was eternally swept up in a half bun, out of her face and still free to tumble down her back like rays of sunlight.

“It’s been a long time,” Raziel returned the greeting, forcing her mouth up into the socially correct smile. “Even for us.”

“It has been a rather long war, I would say. It is a pleasure to see you as always.”

“Would that I could have returned sooner,” Raziel said, refusing to hold the tension in her shoulders any longer. “I didn’t see Kanta. How is she?” Considering everything that had happened in the excessive amount of time since Raziel had visited, she was surprised that Kanta wasn’t glued to Vanja’s side, even with her duties. They’d been close, exceptionally so, the last time Raziel had seen them.

A warm, rather loving smile graced Vanja’s face. “She is well. In fact she is helping a few new acolytes get adjusted to their new home. Mizra surely will be glad to have such devoted followers.”

Raziel dipped her head. “Kanta was always good with the younger generations,” she conceded. “I’m sure I’d have appreciated her guidance when raising my sons, and my grandson. It was never as easy as she made it seem.”

“I am sure she would have loved to help you. I do miss when tensions were not so high. It was easier to share knowledge with each other- and not not feel the weight of death so frequently.” She inclined her head. “I am sorry for your losses.”

Raziel was practiced enough to keep her old grief tucked far away from her expression and tone. “It’s part of life that some end earlier than others, as much as I’ve hated outliving partners and kin alike. I appreciate your condolences, however.” She waited the appropriate beat before, “I was hoping I could attempt to restore my connection with Mizra today.”

“Of course, of course,” Vanja said. “We mustn’t keep them waiting. I am sure they are aware you have arrived.”

“As they are of all things,” Raziel replied with a smile. She followed Vanja back to one of the empty alcoves that dotted the temple. Not really empty, Raziel corrected herself, as there were candles and plants and even pillows to kneel on, but certainly devoid of another person at the moment. Though Vanja had taken care to situate her far from the acolytes that inhabited the temple, Raziel noted.

“Thank you,” Raziel said, touching Vanja’s elbow with a featherlight touch. Yet another learned gesture, but a well practiced one. “I appreciate your willingness to accommodate me, even after all this time.”

“Of course,” she said. “I will leave so you can acquaint yourself unencumbered. Please let me know when you wish to leave so I can make the necessary arrangements.”

“Of course,” Raziel promised. She waited until the priestess made her leave before she settled in the alcove, unable to fully shake the stiffness she held herself with as she closed her eyes.

When she opened them, she was in a familiar room. The iridescent decor was as delicate as she remembered, and, unsurprisingly, Mizra looked exactly how she remembered them. Pale skin, nearly translucent, and hair the same color, or lack thereof. The only bit of color on the god beyond the simple grey dress were the same striking silver eyes Raziel herself had. A gift, or so Raziel understood it, that went along with the magic Mizra had bestowed upon her all those millennia ago. Raziel no longer remembered what she looked like with the golden eyes Lev had inherited. As far as she was concerned she might as well not ever had them.

“Well it is about time you graced yourself with my presence.”

The first genuine smile Raziel had worn in months cracked her usual facade, though it was small and quickly faded. “I missed you too, old friend,” she replied. “Much has happened, and I’m sorry this war has kept me from you for so long.”

Mizra sniffed and waved a dismissive hand. “You silly mortals and your silly wars. It is as annoying as it is hinderous. I find it tedious.”

“As you do many things,” Raziel countered. “I think the war is over, for now. You’ll have my company for a few centuries before another breaks out, I should hope.”

“Oh yes, yes,” Mizra said. “Your little rulers do seem to be competent in their jobs. Baylor sharing my gifts should hold promise.”

“Should,” Raziel agreed. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty to tell me.” Even as she thought about sitting, a chair was there, so she sank down in it with a contented little sigh. “I’ve missed our talks.”

“I have as well. My siblings can only hold my interest for so long,” Mizra said, sinking gracefully in their own chair. They had two cups of tea appear in their hands. “Tell me more about Cameron. He has been rather… distant and I find his lack of acknowledgement to be rather insolent on his part. Now that that awful woman is no longer tied to his life.”

“I imagine he doesn’t have anyone to point him in your direction,” Raziel mused. “And from the very little amount of time I’ve spent in his presence, I think she’s still very much tangled up in his mind and heart, as much as he’d refuse to admit it. Asmadai did damage to his mind and spirit that only a mother could.” She blinked slowly, accepting the cup of tea handed to her. “Though I did not expect him to become so entangled with my grandson.” She couldn’t quite lie to herself and say had she known she’d have raised him any differently, but...

“Oh yes,” Mizra said, eyes sharpening in thought. “Your interesting little breakable bird of a grandson does make Cameron all the more captivating. He and his little band of broken boys. I want you to fix him for me.”

“I’m not a therapist,” Raziel replied with a frown. “And stars know I was never a good mother; I’m not the best at guiding anyone down the path they should take.” Her frown deeped. “I’m sure you know he doesn’t trust me. He has no reason to; I’m half convinced he’s only a step from open hostility at all times when it comes to me, though I’ve done nothing to him personally.”

“I am sure it was your little war that has his mood so sour,” they said. “Anyhow, I do not care for his feelings, I care that he is worshipping me so he can access the full extent of his abilities. He’s so far disconnected from me, he might as well be magicless.”

Raziel considered her words carefully. In the end she simply said, “I will do my best to send him your way. Subtle maneuverings will get us nowhere; I’ll simply tell him you wish his presence. Even Cameron wouldn’t dare tell a god no.” She hoped, anyway.

“If he values his self preservation as much as I know he does he will,” Mizra said, glibly. “Besides, what does he think kept his skin attached to his bones for the last five hundred years. His winning charm? That would be incorrect.”

Raziel found herself laughing, albeit quietly. “You guided him well, even when he could not hear you. I’ll try to help put him on your path, or at least point him towards the correct signs and let him think he’ll figure it out on his own.”

“Yes.” Their eyes narrowed in deep thought. “Men do think they’re far more intelligent. Their little wars would be less violent if they listened to reason. It is with good luck that Cameron chooses to listen to what I have to say. I expect results, Raziel, do not fail me.”

tagging: @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #original writing #hell to pay #ch: cameron #ch: darius #ch: the gods #ch: Ash #ch: sazra #ch: celeste

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magicflowershop · 4 years ago

Text

one day kitty; Atsumu version

《inspired by movie A Whisker Away》

✿✿ you wished to be with the person you like and wish granted. whiskers, button nose, tail, four legs and ears on top of the head; you turned into a cat. with this, you are given the opportunity to be with the person you want to express your affections to. but as a cat. and only in one day.

― haikyuu characters x cat!reader imagines!

❀ masterlist ❀

the wheel of names have spoken.

you know you hated your housecat the second you laid eyes on it when your mum took it home one day from the shelter, saying it was an abandoned cat

abandoned cat your ass

that cat stole your body and turned you into a cat

she stole your human identity

like, girl, wha- the auDACITY for her to have you wake up on her stinky litterbox while she’s havin the time of her life talking to your parents as if you were in that body the entire time

and the audacity of her to go to school and attend your classes, talk to your friends while you’re over there lurking in the shadows, glaring lasers at her from a tree branch

and the absolute audacityyy of her to obviously ogle over a guy from your class when you weren’t even interested in him to begin with

THE NERVE OF IT TO BE ATSUMU MIYA OF ALL PEOPLE

REALLY

why

why him when he has so many fans and the fact that he’s perpetually ANNOYED by his fans like c’mon????????????????????

IN YOU’RE BODY AT THAT

now you’re just extra helpless bc there’s nothing you can do, you have no idea when you’ll get back to your original body, or if you’re able to get back to your original body at all :O

you also dunno who she made a deal with to get to this point in your lives

all you know is that you had a bad dream that morning, and saw a strange cat sayin you had one day

like what the hell is that supposed to mean

“hey what’re ya doin there?”

o wouldya look at that, a wild Miya twins appeared

you didnt notice that you were taking your sweet time contemplating abt life on that tree that three periods have passed and its now lunch break

the twins happened to see you while they were hanging out outside

so you was just staring at them,,, you had no idea what to do while they were there,,,, but it seemed like they were thinkin of saving you even though you’re not in trouble :v

so you was just starin at them

and they were starin back at you

then they left

LMAO

you were gonna brush this lil interaction off until you arrived,,, i mean your body,,,, i mean your housecat in your body

then you got incredibly annoyed cause she was doin so hard so hard to get their attention when she ady got it, and Atsumu was as annoyed as you are sksskkd Osamu didn’t care at all so moving on

and now you got even mroe annoyed cause she was ruining your image in front of your classmates like srsly

so you dipped and decided this is all a fever dream and everything will get better tomorrow with you back in your body and with a good reputation in school as if nothing horrible happened, yes? yes :)

“there ya are”

until Atsumu picked you up from the ground while you were stealthily making your great escape,, then he started acting like he was lookin for you outta nowhere

and Osamu was lookin at him like he was insane sjksd but he figured this is a plan of Atsumu’s so he decided to play along and told your housecat (that was the host of your body) to excuse them bc they had a cat to take care of and that its vvvv urgent

now kitty you is officially adopted by the Miya twins <3

and you didn’t like it one bit HAHAJSJ

you figure this wasnt such a bad thing and you werent allergic to these boys nyway so you let things happen, and let Atsumu scratch the top of your head while they were discussing things about you

they werent talking mad things abt u nonono, they were talkin abt how strange you were acting when you’re literally one of the chill students in school,,, it was as if you were under a spell and suddenly you were in love with them lmao

Osamu proceeds to add the suspicion with the fact that he saw “you” staring at Atsumu during class like someone so lovestruck

both you and Atsumu got goosebumps couple of the year amirite

so Osamu told him that this could just be a one-time thing (like strange conclusion but go off) and/or that you might’ve just confused him as your first crush lmao Osamu was just confusing himself but he was tryin his best to come up with explanations to ur behavior

so classes begin again,,, now Atsumu still dunno what to do with u ogling at him WHILE THE REAL YOU WAS A CAT WATCHING EVERYTHING FROM A TREE

you was def ready to throw hands,, but thats a cat and ur against animal cruelty,,,,,,, tho its ur body anyway so whats the diff

meanwhile u coming up with a plan to end your housecat, Atsumu found you sitting on a tree and he was so shocked for his life bc last time he check he put you in a box with kitty snax, inside the gyms storage room, how in the world did you manage to get out from there??

the fake you sees you again while Atsumu was lookin at you from the window, and was enraged bc you’re taking the attention from her... hm

so you decided to face your stupid housecat head-on and get to the bottom of this bs and be grownups tgt bc no way are you just gonna donate your human life to an ungrateful animal

you look for the fake you at the back of the school, and now the Giorno theme is playing in the background sksk

“give me my body back”

“o pls can’t you just give me a one day chance?“

the audacity

“you ady stole it from me and you say this now?”

your housecat was smug enuff to tell you that she had the honors of asking a favor from a spirit cat who was the reason of all this,,, and who has also taken a liking to your human soul

your housecat just sold your human soul to a spirit cat

so you just flew in the air to scratch your human face, you didn’t care anymore, its your body, whatever, the one experiencing the pain aint u anyway but your bitchy housecat that your mum seemed to have a deeper connection with than her own child

nyway that didn’t last long cause fake you was screaming help, other students found you two, and they got a hold of you while you were in your feral state and now you were terrified of possibly getting into the animal shelter fr,,,, fake you smirked at this possibility

until sum of ur school’s vball bois saw the commotion too and what do u know, Atsumu says that the cat is his and that he apologizes to the ruckus that the cat has done

then it was your turn to smirk at fake you

so u spend time with Atsumu again for some odd reason that keeps the two of you tgt sweat drops looks away,,, you wonder why your mum’s cat is so attached and/or attracted to Atsumu like this???

you never remember them interacting at all since the very time you see them in the same scene is when you went to have your mum’s cat checked up in the vet and Atsumu was there with their dog too

whats happening

fast forward to dismissal, you’re quite thankful you werent in trouble, same as Atsumu since he managed to tell the other students to not tell anything to the teacher that he has a cat in school kdjsk sum rotten power he holds

but you decided to ditch him again and look for fake you

you found her talking to the spirit cat that she said,, so naturally you demanded said spirit cat to give your body back to you

the spirit cat smiled wider and says that, you haven’t finished your task yet if you want to get back to your original body, you have to wait till midnight

like what in the hell was that supposed to mean, you understood nOTHING

then your housecat goes and says “maybe i should extend my stay in this body, what do you think?”

SIS YOU WENT FERAL there is no way she’s staying in your body while you are sufferin like this, in which you do not deserve. watching your housecat ruin your life like its normal like cmon

“then if you’re gonna stay in my damn body then do it properly! don’t make me look like im a flirt!”

“i was never flirting with anyone!”

“wdym?! you were staring at my classmate the entire time!”

“what was i supposed to do when its what your body felt like doing?!?!?”

...

w hAt

“what’cha screamin at the cat for, y/n?”

ATSUMU JUST ENTERED THE SCENE AS IF HE WAS INVITED AND PICKED THE CAT UP TRYING TO PROTECT IT AS IF WHAT HE WAS DOING WAS SO HELPFUL

“i’m not y/n”

NOW YOUR HOUSECAT JUST ADDED MORE GAS IN THE FLAME

“i’m y/n’s pet cat, that cat is y/n we switched bodies bc y/n has been neglected by her parents ever since i was taken for adoption... y/n has a crush on you so i just reacted the way her body wanted to react around you so i’m sorry i made you uncomfortable”

you couldn’t take the embarrassment anymore and jumped from Tsumu’s hands and ran your way to your house as fast as you can

you thought abt how stupid that was and how stupid you looked in front of him,, like pointing at a cat saying that thats the real you like who in the heaven’s name would believe bs like that

you were beyond embarrassed that you just want to sink into the ground and just disappear from life rn and never see Atsumu again,,, anyone is fine but Atsumu pls for the love of god

“well ofc its a narrower place”

didn’t you say anyone but Atsumu is fine pls for the love of god

“get outta there, i got yer mask”

he placed a mask beside you, so you chomped on that mask and pulled it out of the bush with you,, you see him there crouching down to your smol height, watching you in concern

you try to take off your mask yourself but it isnt working, you try to push your head to make your actual mask stick to your head but it isn’t working. nothing is working so you started crying in meow

now tsumu is just confused there and asked if he can comfort you,,, you glared at him like he was stupid

“yer still a girl yknow, i gotta ask for consent”

how sweet 🥺

he started talking abt how he and ur housecat tried to talk it out with the creepy cat to get ur normal life back bc apparently you never wished for a deal with him even tho u desperately hated ur life at home, all in all spirit cat is a big ass scam, while he was unknowingly scratching the top of your head again but moving on

also that your housecat wanted to apologize to you bc she didnt want to take your life away from u, and that she never meant to hurt your feelings while running his hand down to your back and forgetting that you aren’t a real cat but again moving on

“is, is it true tho?”

“ya like me?”

dumass rly asked that while ur a cat lol

“it’s a meow for me”

smoke escaped your nostrils like a bull, the stupid spirit cat was playin games withcha since he ady got exposed for his scams >:O

“ya just spoke”

you left Atsumu there with the mask between your teeths, dragging yourself back home, expecting to probably go back to normal once you wake up,,, but you have your mask back now hm

“don’tcha want sum help?”

k ykno he’s annoying when he wants to be but he literally had no reason to be annoying know i mean pls

“sure i like u it doesn’t m-”

you’re back to normal

“matter”

but wearing what you wore when you went to bed last night, in pajamas with no footwear, on the cold asphalt ground, blushing like a fool out of even more embarrassment, cursing at the spirit cat sum more from the back of your mind

that cat had no right to play match-maker after all that, even if he knew that Atsumu will naturally bring you hope since its night and give you a piggy-back ride since you had no slip-ons, asking for consent as well mind you

no right at all

stay tuned for more!

#walk in my garden #yay i updated today #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu!! smau #haikyuu!! drabble #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! x reader #atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #inarizaki #one day kitty

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i-mybrunettelady · 4 years ago

Note

From the angst/fluff prompts: “Try not to think about it.”

^v^)/

Thank you for the prompt! It took a little till I had the idea, but now I do, I can actually write it down!

Again, slight spoiler for recent episode, very slight. Again, it’s IBS inspired.

----- prompt: try not to think about it

Eye of the North, 1334 AE

Anxiety eats at the edges of his consciousness like a foreign body. It’s not his; it’s take him a while to learn to properly differentiate between their emotions, as strong as the soulbond made them resonate between them, and the more the time passes, the more El feels like it’s a burden he did not necessarily ask for. The Dream was enough. He was never particularly sensitive to other Dreamers but the Grove sometimes feels like a beehive of thoughts he can’t really process and understand.

But seeing Trahearne alive, seeing him not impaled with his own sword, ultimately feels worth every frayed nerve in the process. Thorns, this selfless thing is really annoying sometimes.

“By the Pale Tree’s branches, Trahearne, sit down! You’ve crossed the entire eye at least five times!” El stands from his seat, pushing Liv’s head from his shoulder. The charr blinks, grumbles, clearly disturbed for a nap he was robbed of the night before with so many soldiers leaving for the front lines, and tries to pull El down with somewhat uncoordinated and sleep-heavy paws.

“Not now,” El says, pushing them away. “Trahearne’s pacing around the Eye and he’s making everyone feel frightened.”

“Soulbond,” Liv says sleepily.

“I’m trying to be selfless here but yes, it’s tenfold the anxiety for me. There’s a pillow nearby you can sleep on. Come on.”

“Too far,” Liv whines. El wants to scream. Trahearne’s feet tap on the ground for the sixth round.

“You’re both lucky I love you both so much,” he bites out, walking over and throwing the pillow on Liv’s face. Liv yawns, whiskers tingling, gathers it and falls asleep moments later. With a deep sigh, El leaves their little room and stands before his friend, gripping him by the shoulders.

“You stupid, idiot man,” he says firmly, “she will come back. Do you know who you chose to spend your life with?”

“I worry,” Trahearne replies quietly, shaking his head.

“I can feel that. Now I want you to stop worrying. She may lose an eye, or a finger, or a body part-” Trahearne’s eye widens with each new mention of body parts to the point of El wanting to burst laughing, “but she’s coming back. Thorns, she’s beat death. You both have. I can’t believe I have more faith in Alysannyra’s abilities than you do. Alysannyra.”

“What if Liv went to the battlefield, hm?” Trahearne suddenly asks and El’s expression drops. “What if it was Liv in her place and you in mine? Would you be out of your mind with worry too?”

“Try not to think about it,” El says with subdued conviction. “I do it, and it works wonders for me. See, I have him sleeping in our little space.”

“But I don’t!” El barely contains a flinch at the raised voice. “You’re lucky Liv doesn’t go out to the fights themselves. You’re lucky you can always go to the workshop and see him there. You’re lucky he doesn’t show up at your door with claw marks on his chest and a bloodied shirt after months apart.”

Not my fault you have a horrible choice of partners, El wishes to say, but manages to keep his mouth shut. It takes him a long moment to realise Trahearne is speaking out of worry, anxiety, rather than genuine anger.

“You will soon.” The next words hurt his pride a little, but ring true regadless. “I may hate her guts, and believe me I do, but I know she’s capable. Fuck, you’ve seen it yourself. And when she comes back, do I have your permission to slap you with an I told you so?”

“Permission denied,” Trahearne says after a moment of consideration, calmer than before. “But thank you. I did need that, even if it came in a way characteristic for you.”

“What is that supposed to mean? I was on my best behaviour!”

“Exactly,” Trahearne smiles, even if it’s still tense and wrong. “Don’t change, El.”

“Never,” he promises, snorting. “I’ll still slap you with an I told you so, just so you know.”

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #elandrin aien #trahearne #inspo birb has come to town #i really like their friendship #i really gotta write it more #for those new #they're exes #who split amicably #and decided to remain friends #also very vague alysannyra #el's bad coping mechanisms episode indefinite #i just... my boy #my sweet sweet winter child #i love you #a lot #thank you for the ask #space-plume

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ranposlittle · 5 years ago

Text

❀ HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CHUUYA NAKAHARA!! ❀

The fandom’s sweetheart ✧♡ I legit haven’t seen anybody in the fandom yet that doesn’t love Chuuya. So, to celebrate this shawty’s birthday, I made the SFW and NSFW (under the cut) Alphabet for him!~ The letters would be H, A, P, Y for the SFW and B, I, R, T, H, D, A, Y for the NSFW to form “Happy Birthday”! Not that creative, I know haha. I also included an extra letter on the NSFW part for all my 18+ readers who thirst for Chuuya fufufu

So here it is~ Enjoy! ˙˚ʚ(´◡`)��˚˙

SFW

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

· H E L O V E S I T. Only if it comes from you, though. If not, he’ll probably pass. Chuuya’s hugs are extremely comforting. You’ll feel some kind of sense of protection whenever he wraps his arms around you. He doesn’t usually initiate the hugs but he absolutely won’t refuse if you give him one every minute.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

· Chuuya is actually quite clingy. He’s always hugging you from behind and would kiss you even if you’re in the middle of something. He expresses it more behind closed doors but he doesn’t mind some quick pecks of kisses here and there whenever you’re in public. He’ll pull you closer to him whenever he feels the need to protect you whether from a crowd or from a stranger talking to you. He’ll definitely hold your hand all the time, though.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

· Chuuya is notorious for his short temper but it really depends on the situation. He does get easily annoyed and if you know what buttons to push, it’s easy to trigger him, too. But that usually happens with his enemies or co-workers; you’re different from them so his patience is just a little bit more extended. He’s much calmer and composed when he’s with you, and his voice only rises when you tease him or he gets excited over something.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

· (Dazai) He doesn’t like people who can’t form their own opinion or views on things without looking at other people. He also doesn’t like people who can’t stand for anything that they believe in, no matter how unpopular it might be or how “different” it is from the norm. The same goes for a partner. Chuuya wouldn’t mind if you’re shy, introverted or quiet; as long as you got that inner strength in you to think and decide for yourself and stand by it, you’re alright.

NSFW

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

· Chuuya likes his arms very much. You’ve caught him multiple times kissing his biceps while looking at himself in the mirror. In his partner, he loves two things: either your butt or your boobs (or both).

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

· When Chuuya had a bit of wine, he’ll be extra romantic. He’ll be slow and sensual, littering every inch of your body with open-mouthed kisses. He’ll drawl out compliments on how amazing your body is and how much he loves it. His sluggish movements will drive you insane but the ride is no less enjoyable. If he had one too much of wine, Chuuya will even do a strip dance for you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

· “Hell yes!” is what Chuuya would say if you ask him to try anything risky. He’s very adventurous in and out of the bedroom and would love to try things he’s seen in porn with you. He’s okay with role reversal every now and then too. He’ll let you be on top while he coax and compliments you on the bottom. He’s also not shy to do it in public. Chuuya would just yank you into a corner, a bathroom stall or a dressing room, and unzips his pants. As long as his reputation as a respected mafia executive wouldn’t be affected, bring it on. He will never force you if you’re not comfortable, of course.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

· Yes, he does. Chuuya purchased them with the purpose of using them on you but sometimes, you like to give him a surprise and use the vibrator against him. He thought about getting a fleshlight for all the times he can’t be with you but the thought of actually using it ashamed him, so he just try and bring you along if he’s going somewhere far.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

· You’re in luck because Chuuya is a well-groomed man. He’s not always cleanly shaven down there but he keeps it neatly trimmed. He always aims to look his best, with or without clothes. There isn’t really a lot to complain about since his hair down there have the same color as the hair on his head but a tad lighter. It’s barely visible if you’re not looking too close and because of its light color, it’s thinner, too. Almost like a cat’s whiskers.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of their)

· He tried to suck his own dick once and succeeded. To this day, he’s still trying to erase the memory of that incident. It’s a secret that he’ll take to the grave. ((I feel so guilty writing this omg idk why this is what my mind came up with))

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

· Chuuya will be like your personal butler. He’ll do whatever you ask of him after sex. He’ll bring you snacks, drinks; give you a message, whatever. Anything for his princess. He’ll also shower you with compliments and praises while you try and catch your breath after an energetic round, telling how good you did and how amazing your body feels. He would love to cuddle and play with your hair if that’s what you prefer. Chuuya also smokes after sex, if you wouldn’t mind. He just likes to think he looks like an 80’s badass movie star while he smokes on the bed and you lying on his arm.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

· It’s actually just around the average. Chuuya do possess a massive amount of energy but his line of work also allows him to spend most of it so there are times where he really just goes straight to sleep. However, it’s quite easy to turn him on and provoke him to spend the lat stretch of his energy for a late-night fun. When there’s a time that his demanding job doesn’t really ask much of him and he’s bored, expect that you’ll spend the day in bed (or not, depends on where his lust takes him). He’s not reluctant to spend it all on you when he can and you can just always ask him.

BONUS!!! Caution: 18+! Graphic content. Proceed at your own risk.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, pictures or words)

Just because it’s his birthday, I’ll put three images here ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ um if I have to guess, I think it would be something like this, this and this. dont tell my dada that i looked this up aaa

#bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #chuuya nakahara x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungou stray dogs scenarios #bungou stray dogs headcanons #bsd hcs #bsd imagines #bsd headcanons #bsd scenarios #bsd imagine #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #chuuyamw

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liannyeong · 5 years ago

Text

let me open my heart to you

Summary: the only thing she knows about him is the usual drink he orders at the cafe: iced americano.

Word count: 1974

Pairing: Jinyoung X OC

Warning(s): fluff

A/N: finally a jinyoung fic! i attempted a little humor... but this is trash so.... i hope you will still enjoy it? hahahaha

it's stupid, hayoon thinks. she cannot even believe that she has a crush on a guy she has never properly talked to. the only thing she knows about him is the usual drink he orders at the cafe: iced americano. and that his name is jinyoung. he works as a trainer at a gym nearby, afternoons packed with classes. but other than that? not a single clue. so how the heck did hayoon harbor a crush on him? she doesn't even understand either. perhaps it's because of his cute smile, little crinkles forming around his eyes. or his handsome face, skin nearly flawless, as if he was chiseled from marble. or heck, he's got one hell of a body too -- not too muscular, not too skinny, just the right amount of fill... gosh, what the heck is she even thinking... nevertheless, it's stupid that she's crushing on someone without knowing his true personality. just because of his looks, really? gosh, wake up, hayoon. appearance goes nowhere.

but damn, she can't help herself. her heart feels a little lighter whenever the cafe opens. it's because jinyoung always comes to the cafe at 7, when the queues aren't long and the morning is still peaceful. he's always dressed in a plain t-shirt, tucked into ankle-length pants, a cap worn on his head. before he even comes in or says his order, hayoon already has his drink prepared for collection at the counter. jinyoung would always do his trademark eye whiskers smile, deep voice thanking her. then he sits at his usual spot -- the window seat directly in front of the counter. she doesn't get why he likes that place when it's the most exposed seat. but she doesn't complain. in fact, hayoon enjoys the fact that she has an unobstructed view of jinyoung reading a book. she reckons he's a fast reader, for he brings new books each week. she doesn't know what the man is reading, but it seems interesting for he's always focused, oblivious to the surroundings.

oh, just how lovely hayoon's daily life is.

---

ii.

but today... jinyoung's dressed in a white dress shirt, tucked into fitting pants. he has a pair of glasses on, his hair slicked back. he looks so dashing -- exactly like a prince charming described in fairytales. perhaps if she is cinderella, he would be her prince charming. but clearly she's no cinderella.

because jinyoung's got company. a girl as good looking as him, of course. her hair touches her shoulders, one side neatly tucked behind her ear. she's donned in a pretty beige dress, exuding feminine elegance.

gosh, they look as if they walked straight out of a romance novel, so ideally perfect in every way.

wait-- does this mean they're on a date...?

well, damn.

jinyoung ushers the girl to his usual seat, so gentlemanly, hayoon thinks she could have fallen harder for him. then, the man offers to buy the girl a drink. no, hayoon didn't eavesdrop at all. the cafe is just too quiet that even a single whisper is amplified.

hayoon gulps, desperately trying to compose herself when jinyoung comes to place his order. she can't let any emotion show on her face.

"the usual and an iced latte, please," jinyoung orders, slipping his card out of his wallet smoothly.

"name?" hayoon asks after the payment is successful, holding up an empty cup.

"yeeun."

hmph. a pretty name for a pretty face, she thinks to herself.

hayoon makes the order wordlessly, hands working like a muscle memory. jinyoung picks up their drinks from the collection counter and walks back to his usual seat. hayoon pretends to be busy cleaning or whatsoever but out of the corner of her eyes, she's actually watching the two. oh, just how sweet their interactions are...

sometime later, jinyoung holds up a napkin and dabs away some residue on the corner of yeeun's lips. the girl shies away, cheeks turning red, leaning back to wipe her mouth herself. jinyoung just smiles at her, the same crinkles only directed at the girl. the same smile that hayoon adores.

gosh, how much hayoon wishes jinyoung would look at her that way. at this thought, she averts her gaze. this isn't it. she shouldn't wish for such a thing. a crush is usually one-sided and is just as its name suggests -- a crush crushes hearts.

she should just be happy for jinyoung.

"who's that girl with jinyoung?" yien asks as he pops into the counter, having just came to work.

hayoon shrugs. "a girlfriend, i guess," she answers too curtly. it sounds as if she's bitter. which she's clearly not. totally.

"what? i didn't know he had a girlfriend," he says in disbelief. his brows are raised high, mouth agape.

"neither did i..." she mutters.

then hayoon hears yien chuckling at the side. he's tying his apron, but there's a playful smirk on his lips as he asks, "jealous?"

"who is? i know i'm not," hayoon mumbles.

yien laughs. he singsongs, "sure~"

hayoon glares at her colleague before glancing at the couple again. now they're just in their own world, chatting away happily, all giggly like high school teenagers in love.

she's totally not jealous.

---

iii.

now, yeeun tags along to the cafe whenever jinyoung does. as much as hayoon tries to suppress the feeling in her, she just can't. there's always a twinge. gosh, why can't she just be happy for jinyoung? it'll be so much easier if her heart would just give him up. maybe if she doesn't see him often... then maybe... that's it, her mind snaps. she shouldn't see jinyoung so much if she wants to get over him. she shouldn't see the couple if she doesn't want to feel like this. the lesser she sees, the lesser she knows.

so she decides to swap shifts with bambam much to his reluctance. he's afraid of having things thrown at him if he makes a mistake. yien is that scary, he argues. but she doesn't believe it. how can a sweet angel like yien even do violent things like that? so she insists, until bambam gives in.

and now, hayoon takes the afternoon shift. no more jinyoung. no more jinyoung and yeeun. she can finally forget him in peace.

---

iv.

ha ha, of course not. the person who she's trying to forget appears in the cafe in the late afternoon a few weeks later. alone. no yeeun in tow.

"hey," jinyoung greets at the counter, much to hayoon's surprise. she totally didn't expect to see him again. her brain nearly short-circuited.

"jinyoung... hey..." hayoon lets out slowly. "the usual...?"

the said man nods. as hayoon taps away on the cash registers, she feels the weight of his gaze. she tries to ignore it.

"so you're on the afternoon shift now," he says as a matter-of-factly.

hayoon gulps her spit, her mind trying to rack up some good excuse. "i was gonna tell you but i got busy... sorry. it slipped off my mind," she replies lamely.

jinyoung watches her with hawk-like eyes. as if he's assessing her answer. as if he doesn't believe it. it makes hayoon nervous.

but the man nods, and then, flashes his usual smile. "well, i know now."

jinyoung grabs his drink, takes a sip from it, a cheeky smile on his face before walking away.

"um... yeah. now you know..." hayoon mutters to herself. if jinyoung is gonna start coming in during her shift.... she's doomed.

---

as expected, jinyoung starts coming to the cafe during her shift. what does he want, she doesn't even know. but now, jinyoung doesn't settle at his usual table. instead, he keeps trying to engage hayoon in a conversation over the counter. especially when she's in the midst of preparing his drink.

"why are you coming in at this hour? don't you have classes to teach?"

jinyoung shakes his head. "my schedule changed. i'm free on afternoons now."

hayoon hums in response. "i noticed you haven't come in with your girlfriend," she passes it off like a light remark.

at that comment, she doesn't notice jinyoung's stunned expression. if anything, she's too scared to look at his face.

"she... uh..." he stammers. "busy?"

the raised tone at the end has her a little confused. why is jinyoung so unsure of his own girlfriend's schedule? weird, she thinks. but she doesn't delve into it. she hands him his order and then proceeds to serve other customers.

---

vi.

jinyoung doesn't pop by for the next month. not that hayoon is counting. it's just weird that her routine is disrupted again. she doesn't try to mind it much. after all, it's just a pathetic crush. one that she has yet to get over with.

hayoon is busy cleaning up the cafe when there's a knock on the glass door. looking up, she sees jinyoung waving at her, a tight-lipped smile on his lips.

she walks over, pulls open the door and then says, amused, "you do know we're closed, right?"

"of course. but i just thought to pop by."

"whatever for? i'm just closing up the shop--"

"i'll help you out," he cuts, inviting himself in, much to hayoon's reluctance.

but it proves to be a great thing because she closes the shop earlier than usual. which means she can head home earlier and rest longer. as hayoon locks the cafe, she thanks jinyoung, saying, "your next drink will be on me."

"i don't want a drink," he replies.

"jinyoung, please. you helped me a lot today. i owe you a drink."

"i don't want a drink," he repeats, much to her confusion. she frowns.

"okay... a meal then?" hayoon offers.

"no," jinyoung shakes his head, cheeks a little pink. then a little softer, he says, "you owe me a date."

"huh," she lets out, more confused than ever. she scoffs. shaking her head, she disapproves, "ha ha, very funny, jinyoung. what will your girlfriend say?"

"but i don't-- i don't have a girlfriend?"

hayoon looks at him, bewildered. "um, did you forget about yeeun?"

jinyoung stares back at her. then he blurts, "she's not! she was just--" he sighs. "i just wanted to get a reaction out of you, that's all."

"what?"

"look, i-- the person i like is you, okay? not yeeun. it was a fake relationship, just to see how you would react."

it takes hayoon great control not to show any reaction. she maintains a blank expression though she desperately wants to jump for joy. "what makes you think i like you?"

jinyoung freezes, visibly pale. "huh... you... don't...?" he swallows his spit. "oh um-- well-- forget i said anything then!" he panics. then he mumbles softly to himself, "yien must have been playing with me..."

but hayoon's ears are sharp to capture the last sentence. she shrieks, "yien did what?!"

jinyoung has the audacity to look guilty. like a kicked puppy, its tail between its hind legs, he answers truthfully and slowly, "he may have told me that you may have feelings for me... and he may have suggested that i should try to make you jealous..."

hayoon stares at him in horror. damn yien. bambam was right. yien is one scary person. he's totally not an angel. a sly devil, that's what he is!

"i'm gonna kill that little piece of--" she mutters.

"so, um--" jinyoung breaks her monologue, watching her cautiously. "it's fine if you don't feel the same way, you know. i totally understand that. i was just--"

"you don't want to go on a date with me?" she cuts.

"what? no-- i mean, of course, i'd like to!" jinyoung's face is crimson now. how cute.

"okay then," hayoon nods, cheeks matching the color of his face, lips stretched so wide into a smile. "when are you free?"

#got7 #got7 jinyoung #got7 park jinyoung #got7 scenarios #got7 jinyoung scenarios #got7 park jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung #park jinyoung #park jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung scenarios

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c-atm · 5 years ago

Text

Fighting Flirty: Special match (V-day)

Special Match

A Valentine Fighting Flirty

Connie Maheswaran yawned as she walked out of Little Homeworld R&D, pockets in her blue lab coat. Morning sunlight was breaking through and unsurprisingly, there were gems already up or who didn’t sleep, roaming around decorating the streets in red,white, and pink. With hearts, streamers and banners.

“So..It’s here again…Valentine’s day, maybe I can sleep through it.”

The twenty years old let loose a cynical smirk. She had a real distaste for Valentine’s day, always had. It just came off as a bit much and a bit too fake.

All the wanting to suddenly admit your ‘love’ to a person.

“Cause there’s a higher chance of getting a date and or get laid.”

All the expectation of giving or getting a gift or candy.

“Cause it’s what’s lover’s supposed to do, how else are they supposed to express their 24hr surge of romance?”

All the social convention and commercialization. “Cause being single and not spending money on Valentine day is pathetic.”

She shook her head with a chuckle. She didn’t care for the day, at all.

She stopped in front of Lars bakery, seeing it open with a display of chocolate in a circular black box in the window.

“The chocolate is good though, I’ll give it that.”

A few minutes later she was heading towards her LHW residence, box under her left shoulder. She took in the sights of the gem city and as much as she loathed the holiday, she did take a bit of pride in the fact that the gems were so eager to celebrate it.

She arrived at her residence and arched an eyebrow before a small glow came to her tired cheeks.

In front of her door was a bouquet of red and white Chrysanthemums, surrounding a small 'heart’ of bluebells.

“Mister."

it was a whisper that leaked appreciation. She expected him to give her a gift, even knowing her anti-valentine stance, he always does. She lifted the flowers up and carefully tucking them with the chocolate, before opening the door and finding it unlocked.

Again, not surprised; especially since the whole place had the smell of breakfast being made. Entering and closing the door behind her, she followed the smell to the kitchen and there he was.

Big limbed, big torso, lightly tan skin, curly hair, deep almond eyes, and slightly whiskered face. Wearing his black button-up, dark blue jeans with a star buckle belt, pink and blue sneakers. The pink apron was a new addition though.

She gently placed the chocolate down on the table and the flowers in the suspiciously new vase on her island…Which happened to be filled with water, before walking behind him and wrapping he arm around him, resting her hands on his chest as she snuggled her face into his back, smirking at his beach yet earthy smell.

"Heart Berry, burned the midnight oil I see.”

She groaned cutely, giving her Mister a kiss on the the small on his back, getting a chuckle from him.

“You know, it’s action like this that makes people think we’re more than friends.,”

That earned him a little nip, Making him falsely wince before chucking.

“Brat Berry.”

She looked at what he was making and turned her eyes towards him a bit of a childlike glow in her eyes. “You’re making _ Masala dosa?” _

“Why yes? Yes, I am. Very astute of you.”

Connie groaned suspiciously. “What are you up to?”

“Just doing something nice for you..”

“On February fourteenth…Valentine’s day.”

“Coincidence. ..I know you’re the’ antithesis of Valentines day’.” He laughed a bit at that. “I still can’t believe you called yourself that.”

“I stand by my claim. I’m happily unattached, I don’t expect nor do I give gifts-”

“Yet you accept gifts and you bought chocolate. ”

“First, I was raised with manners and feel it’s rude to reject.. Second… I have plans for those chocolate.”

He sure she did, especially with the slight dripping of seductiveness coming from voice.

“Continuing…I don’t ever date on valentine’s, nor do I take confessions seriously. They’re getting instantly shut down.”

“Ouch..So if I would say, I want to be with you, you’d shut me down. Hypothetically”

Connie looked up with an arched eyebrow. “Hypothetically, if you were to ask on February fourteenth…I’d tell you to ask again tomorrow.”

Steven laughed loudly at that, as he turned to give her a kiss on her crown. “Go sit Heart Berry. I’ll bring the food over.”

She nodded as she tipped-toe to kiss his whiskered cheek, before following his orders. She took off her lab coat, and hung it behind her chair before sitting down, and laying her top half on the table, stretching forward her arms forward and laying head down. Steven shook his head as he saw her, an adoring grin on his face.

“So..Manners, huh?”

“This is my place..I don’t need manners…Besides-” She turned to him tired but bedroom eyed. “You think I’m sexy without manners.”

He growled at her giving a playfully lustful look himself “Oh yeah, irresistible. Make my motor run.” He signaled her to sit up which she did with a back popping stretch, her chest pressing against her green apple sweater lifting enough to show her navel a little.

She caught the appreciative stare he was giving her, and smirked as she shifted in her chair. “So are you gonna eat with me..or just eat me.”

“You’d be happy either way.”

“Does that mean I can have both.”

Steven shook his head as he placed her food down in front of her, and his across from her. She took a bite of the crepe like food, moaning at the taste of the rice, potatoes coconut oil, spices and seasoning. She took a second bit and her eyes widen at the two other favors, she gave him an accusatory smile.

“Durian and lamb…”

“Two of your favorites, yes.”

“Hmm..Seems very Valentine-ish.”

“Well, I ‘Do’ Valentines day.”

Connie sighed. “I -I know, and I don’t.”

“I know.”

Connie was about to respond when Steven caught her off guard wiping her lip, before giving her a peck.

“You appreciate my gestures all the same, that’s fine by me.”

Connie turned away blushing trying to fight her smile. “Well..it’s you after all…” She took a bite of the food again savoring the taste.

“Exactly.”

She didn’t say anything as a smile enveloped on her lips. The silence was comfortable and serene almost like a newlywed breakfast. Once they finished the food, feeling more than satisfied, Conie went up stairs to freshen up, hiding a bit of guilt as she did. Going into her room to get her some sleepwear, a towel, and stripping bare before heading across from her room to the bathroom and into the shower. As the slightly hot water cascade over her; she gathered the chai and lilac body wash/shampoo she always wears and he loves so much on her, making it a foam and lathering it upon her. As she soaped and bathed herself, she sighed both in relaxation and remorse.

“This was a nice way to start the day. A very touching way to today. Flowers, food, and my favorite guy… I’m happy and I appreciate it…It’s just..This day…I wish I could enjoy it like he does.”

She grimaced as she rinsed the soap out of her body and hair, the thoughts getting more deprecating. “The flowery words, the extravagant gestures…I can do without it, but he loves It and deserves it…I want to give it to him.”

She held herself looking down, tears falling in heartbreaking shame, mixing with the shower water. “I don’t think I can give him that. Romance like that.”

Connie wiped her tears as she took a deep breath, turning off the shower as she did. Putting on her sleepwear; An old pink hoodie of his with some black spandex, she shook her head and went to her bedroom.

“Hey Heart Berry.”

She smirked at Steven, he was laying on her just made bed, shoes near hers. She realized her clothes were picked up and in the hamper. She wiped her eye again.

“Thanks for this Steven..I appreciate the gestures…Sorry about you having to pick up my underwear and such.”

“Well, that was more for me than you.”

“Right..”

Steven arched an eyebrow at her low and downtrodden voice. He opened his arms, beckoning her to lay with him.

She did with no real enthusiasm. She laid her head on his heart, loving the beat of it, the tenderness of his touch on her hips,back and hair. The security of being in his arms and the feeling of endearment when his lips touched her head. She couldn’t stop herself from wrapping her arms around his torso and locking his leg between her thighs.

“What’s wrong, Connie?”

“Nothing."

She had her head down in his chest, refusing to look at him. "Just… Wish I could do more for you.”

“Huh?"

"In the romance department.”

Steven arched an eyebrow at that statement. “What do you mean?”

Connie growled in annoyance. “Romance…Valentines day..Everything you did so far…”

“Thought you enjoyed what I did?”

“I do.” She looked up at him, her eyes a bit wet. “I love that I got a bouquet of my birthday flowers and the flowers you named after me. Adore ,the fact that you made an authentic south asian breakfast for me with two of my favorite foods. Touched that you made up my bed and put my clothes away, so I could go straight to sleep. Probably even here, just cause you know I sleep better when you’re around.”

“Yes, but I like cuddling with you too..Definitely when you’re wearing that body wash.” He chuckled giving her temple a kiss, getting a sigh out of her.

“Even your playing around has an aura of romanticism.”

“It is Valentine’s day.. The day of romance.”

“Yeah and I suck at Valentine’s day…At the whole romance thing.”

“I mean romance isn’t really a-”

He stopped when he looked at her blank stare; The Maheswaran stare of indifference. She only uses that when he crossed the line on a serious matter. Steven looked at her stroking her cheek. ”No pretence?”

“100% percent real talk.”

Steven nodded. “ Fine…Connie.. First thing.. Yeah, you’re not a big romantic, that’s not you. That’s not what I expected from you when we started our ‘breathers’ .

Breathers…The original name of their ‘war game’, or more accurately what their game evolved from. Just a time they set for each other where they kissed, brushed and made the other feel relaxed though talking and admittedly amorous actions, it worked wondrously. Connie didn’t feel tense about her school work or LHW R&D. Steven didn’t feel stress over gem stuff and diamond duties. Those quite impersonal, very physical, breathers took the first step to their ‘ not-relationship ’when Connie shook him to his core for the first time.

Connie looked wide-eyed at the name, but didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t expect this..Bae-friendship to come from that.”

Connie looked down feeling embarrassed only to have him lift her chin up to him and give her a chaste kiss on the lips.

“But you set the catalyst for it. Not that I regret it.. “

Connie, blushed turning away. “No I didn’t, you flirted and teased me first.”

“The night before in the dome. Remember that.”

Steven smirked as Connie grew redder as she recalled the night.

He was having a particularly bad day. The gems were at each other necks over something at little home school, Jasper and Lapis got into it, nearly flooding half of little homeworld, and Spinel needed advice dealing with the diamonds (cause he has experience with that, apparently). He was able to do it, but he was pink and flaring a bit by day end, due to the stress.

He remembers sitting in the dome silently trying to relax enough to retract the flares and drop the pink when she came in. She gave him a gentle, sad smile before sitting by him, pulling his head into her lap. She looked down at him playing with his hair tenderly, before dipping close to him. What he was expecting was rain of kisses upon his cheek..What he got was heartfelt praise, gentle flirting and the “Bisky” title. It actually made him tear up a bit even more so when she disallowed any gem, including White, to see him until he was ready.

He would never forget the way she looked at him. The proud smile she gave him through moist, dazzling eyes. The look was something he didn’t think he ever got from anyone and it planted something deep in his heart. a desire to make her happy, to make her feel cherished and loved like no other..like she did him at that moment.

From there the teasing and flirting began and the rest is history.

“You remember the things you said to me”

Connie groaned as she threw the hood up covering her face, but nodding nonetheless Steven laughed as he pulled her in close. His lioness, his minx, his Heart Berry; was now a shy little cub something he hardly ever gets to see..

“It wasn’t out of romance or something..”

He snickered “Of course, it wasn’t.”

“Stop mocking me.”

“I’m not!”

The roughness in his voice stilled her. Furthermore, when he took off her hood and kissed her tear. “You’re not romantic. You’re passionate, heartfelt, prideful, valorous, flirtatious, impish, amorous, honest and a whole bunch of other stuff that really doesn’t come close to how amazing you are. You don’t mince words and you don’t do anything half-ass. Rather it’s missions, studying and school work, working at R&D or making me fall for you for the umptenth time. You don’t need to try to be romantic and like valentines day or whatever.”

Connie pouted, folding her arms “What about you though? You like the big gestures of romance and all the fanfare of valentines day. Wouldn’t you appreciate it if I joined in.. Do something extravagantly romantic for you?”

“You mean like the dressing and stripping game at empire, or the game tag throughout the Hattan streets, or not only the private dance in your room, but the performance on New year eve.”

Steven had to hold his chuckle in as Connie once again found her with her hood on.

"Those…Those were more flirtatious and playful than romantic.”

“Ah! You admit that they are romantic on some level.”

She shrugged. “I concede they could be seen as romantic..but romance wasn’t my attention.”

“I know, it was all part of our war game right?”

“No..I mean it was for fun…But"

Steven looked on at her, knowingly, as she grabbed his hand and massage the back of them.

"You’re my …Sunshine?”

Steven looked at her wide-eyed, before snorting.

“W-what?!”

“I’m not good at this valentine-romance thing ok!”

“That was an attempt at romanticism!?”

“Ugh! Yes, but I’m a cynic at romance and Valentine’s day. I wanted to do something romantic for you.”

“You sounded so strained, Nini.”

With a groan she let go of his hands. “See…You can say and do all this Valentine-ish stuff, no problem. I can’t even say a goddamn line.”

She leaned forward into him, placing his arms around her waist and midsection.

Steven looked down with a smirk at Connie who was looking up with a grimace.

“You hate this day, so why is this so important to you?”

Connie stared deeply and purposefully at Steven before breathing in.

“Because it’s you, Steven. I don’t care about the day or what it romance represents. I care about you and you like this stuff. That’s why it’s important. You deserve to know how much I adore you, care for you and love you. As my best-friend, my jam bud, My bae…As my Mister and my Man.”

“I’m not your sunshine. Sad.”

Connie snickered at his joke. “You’re more of a starlight than a sunshine.”

Steven poked her nose playfully. “Banned.”

“What?”

“That joke’s banned, no diamond or gem stuff while we’re in bed.”

Connie giggled as she held him tight. “I love you, Bisky.”

“I figured…I didn’t wanna assume though."

That got him a small nip on his chin. "You're a punk, Mister."

Steven smiled at the playful pout on Connie’s face, before giving her bottom a small pinch "Brat.”

“He-MMM~MMM”

Connie yelp was interrupted by Steven. His lips upon her, his tongue gently teasing her own. The feeling of him pulling her closer to him.

She was all but melted as she caressed his jaw with her left hand and ran her right hand through his hair; kissing him back with each second adding more fervor to the moment.

The two broke the kiss after a few minutes. Both a bit more light headed and lighthearted as they laid back down. Connie let out a purr-ish sound as Steven rubbed her back, causing the hybrid to laugh.

“You really are a lioness aren’t you."

She looked up before giving him a quick nibble on his bottom lip.

"Rawr!”

Steven smirked as he continued to rub her back, until he sighed a few moments; a deep sigh.

“Ni’.”

“Hmm..Is this fate of the world related…gem related or diamond related?”

“Nini.”

“If it’s not, then let’s bask in this happy moment, before my cynicism flares up again.”

“Connie. It’s important.”

Connie breathed deeply before signaling him to continue.

“You know, I love you and what we have right?”

“Had a hutch.”

“Come-

"You didn’t give me a straight answer, either.”

Steven chuckled outta breath as he shook his head. “Anyway, before I lose my train of thought.”

“I-”

“No, listen!”

Connie laughed against his chest, when she heard him grow deeply She looked up at his glare and chuckled a bit more before giving him a few kisses and nip on his chin and neck, making him chortle himself. She gave his windpipe a quick suckling before backing off..Not before getting a snarl from him.

“So what was you about to tell me?”

Steven kissed his teeth at her cheeky expression, nodding as he did.

“You see what you just did. That is exactly why you’re wrong.”

“About?”

“About you not being good at romance and valentines day.”

“What, that just now. That was just me playing…Me being coquettish…Trying to bring a smile to my Mister face. Nothing out of the ordinary”

“Exactly.”

Connie gave him a confused stare.

“You don’t need to force yourself to be romantic or extravagant on Valentine’s day to show me how you feel about me..and whatever we have.”

Steven kissed the top of her crown, smiling at the blush on her face. “365 days a year. Every chance you get, you show me. Through your actions, through our games, through our outings, through those very private times together… Times like this.”

Connie held him tight as he spoke. Snuggling her face into the crook of his neck, giving his temple a kiss.

“Connie…You’re loving, passionate, caring and tender. On the flipside you’re an impish, seductive, sexy and sensual little tease. That’s all year round.”

“Only for you, Bisky.” Connie giggled as she kissed his neck. “Not like you can talk, Punk."

"I’m not hiding that I’m a flirt..Besides you love it, Brat Berry.”

Steven chuckled that husky, teasing chuckle reserved for her as he rested his forehead on hers. The two gazed into each other eyes, love clearly in them.

“…You don’t have to celebrate valentine’s day, just because I do..”

“You say that but..I feel like a bad Jam-bae.”

“That’s a new one.”

Connie cheeks burned as she cleared her throat. “..If I didn’t do something. You made my morning something special. Isn’t wrong to want to do the same.

"What makes you think you didn’t? You held me when I cooked in a way you never did before. You were basically glowing when you ate my food.”

“The flowers are beautiful and the food was delicious. I appreciated what you did.”

“And that means everything to me. You could have just wrote it off as something I did for Valentine’s day and moved on, but you didn’t. You tired from whatever you were working on at LHW R&D, decided that eating and talking with me was more important than getting sleep.That means a lot. That made my Valentine’s.”

Connie let loose a tearful laugh. “Got such a schmaltzy man in my life.”

“You're a bit schmaltzy yourself, Sunshine..or would you like me to call you twilight. ”

“Oh, shut up…Those jokes are banned remember…and I’m not schmaltzy”

Steven arched an eyebrow in disbelief. “Sure.. What about the chocolates you brought.”

“The chocolate..Hehe..There’s nothing schmaltzy about what I got planned for those.

Steven fought the anxious grin on his face backing his head up.

"Oh really..What you have planned, Minx?”

“Just for us to share it together.”

The seductive sound of her voice, the little bite and lick of her lip.and that amorous look in her black orbs. She had something planned.. something big, something fun..Something private.

She gave him a quick peck before speaking . “Just need time to prepare.”

With a giggle,she got off his lap laid back onto her bed, finally feeling the night before upon her, yawning while stretching.

Steven stroked her head with a caring smile. “Finally tired, huh?”

Connie nodded, her eyelids drooping heavily. “Emotional based adrenaline gone. Very happy knowing how you feel. Now, I needs my sleep.”

“Fair..Want me to put you to sleep?”

Connie looked up suspiciously. “You wanna tuck me in?”

Steven gave her a very specific grin. “No.”

Connie giggled before smiling. “ Come under, Mister.”

Steven gave her a dangerous smile as he slipped under with her. Her eagerness for him fought off her previous fatigue and urged her to pull him over her, initiating a deep kiss that would lay him down upon her. His hips between her legs, hands longer upper and lover back, as her found his shoulders and chest..

they broke the kiss..after a few more chaste ones after resting their now sweaty heads against each other. They were far from done, but they took a few minutes to admire and adore the person they were with, peppering each other with butterfly kisses and getting light love filled laughter from each other.

It wasn’t soon those butterflies became bites deep kisses and sucklings, that laughter became loving whispers and gasp of each other’s name. Their holds,turning to gentle caresses, strokes and private movements.

It would be an hour before they relaxed. Bed a mess as were they themselves. Both bare top, with Connie disheveled head laying on Steven chest, sleeping peacefully, as Steven himself felt his eyelids getting heavy himself, allowing sleep to take him as she stroked Connie hair, his last thought was how this was the best Valentine day he ever had..and it was all thanks to his little Valen-cynic.

#flirty fighting #fighting flirty #connverse #connie maheswaran #connverse fanfic #connverse fanfiction #steven universe fanfiction #steven and connie #steven universe #steven quartz universe #older connie #older steven #Mister and heart berry #Black Writers #Black Fanfiction Writers #valentines

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years ago

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Fifty-One: Envelope ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Like Magic ] [ AO3 Link ]

He still remembers receiving his letter with pride. No matter how many times his brother, his mother, and even his father assured him there was no question of its arrival...he still had his doubts. Not that he didn’t believe them...but rather, he didn’t believe in himself.

Only once he read his name and address on that envelope did he know.

The prestige of purity means traditions to uphold and honor to maintain. The Uchiha are a longstanding line of notable witches and wizards, long tied to the house of Slytherin within the walls and halls of Hogwarts.

To say that it brought a feeling of pressure and anxiety was...a bit of an understatement.

Not only that, but his family itself was one of accomplishments. His father, positioned in the Ministry, was well-respected (if not a little feared). And his mother was the author of many a magical tome, specifically those regarding modern charms for everyday use.

Itachi, his elder brother, showed talent and prowess for magic at the tender age of four, and could both cast and control his magic before ever receiving his first wand. A skill that his parents praised him heavily for.

Sasuke...was never quite that advanced as he grew. In most regards, he seemed completely...average.

And it bothered him.

While his typical displays of magic before being properly trained were a sure sign he’d grow to be a wizard, his lingering doubts when compared to his brother meant that he wondered if he’d ever earn a place at Hogwarts. Surely if someone were to look between the two of them...they’d choose Itachi every time.

His mother assured him again and again that such things weren’t what got a person accepted into the school. Proclaiming his father a late bloomer (a secret kept between them), she did her best to allay his fears.

And come his eleventh birthday that hot July day...his letter finally came.

Though he allowed himself to act pleased and excited, he kept the true extent of his reaction to himself, hidden away in his room and laugh-crying into his pillow in relief. Finally he knew for sure...he’d get to go.

His first ride on the Hogwarts Express was taken with his brother, who patiently and eagerly showed him around the platform, and the train. Itachi even sat with him, taking his little brother to the carriage he always sat in with a handful of friends. They were from all houses, and even Itachi himself had somehow defied tradition and ended up in Gryffindor. Though it had been a surprise, neither parent was angry or disappointed. Just...confused.

But Sasuke secretly hoped he’d be in the same house as his parents. He wanted to make them as proud as possible. Maybe there were some things he couldn’t do as well as Itachi, or at all. But being a Slytherin he was sure he could manage.

Upon their arrival, however...he had to be separated, taking the traditional ride across the lake with the other first years. Anxious at being alone, he nonetheless gaped up at the castle in awe with the rest. Everything was a surprise. The castle, the hall, the feast…! And of course, the Sorting.

Slytherin, as predicted.

The common room and dorms were amazing, Sasuke regretting the dark and being unable to see out into the lake from the large windows in the main room. Too excited to sleep, he’d woken after a few hours, groggy and confused.

Classes were another avenue of anxiety. Would he do well? He’d glanced over his textbooks before the year began, gleaning very little given their lack of context.

But it was one of his first classes where he made his first friend.

And not one he expected: a Hufflepuff by the name of Hinata Hyūga. They had Charms together, and just so happened to be seated together, and get along well.

It was the beginning of something he’d treasure always.

She wasn’t his only friend, but she was the first. Her saving his life (or at least a few broken bones) during their first flying lesson was also a plus. He later met those like Sakura Haruno, and Naruto Uzumaki. An odd little quad with a member from each house.

And oh, the adventures they got into...most of which centered around vanquishing evil, namely the Dark Lord himself.

And the one thing that blighted his family the most.

The excuse he heard over and over was the formation of a clan of witches and wizards centuries ago, all taking the same surname as a sign of brotherhood and solidarity. It wasn’t necessarily a notion of blood, and though the branches intermingled to keep the assembled pure bloodlines clean, Fugaku and Mikoto both were adamant - especially after his downfall - that neither were directly related to the one called Madara Uchiha.

The allegations - unable to be proven - nevertheless stuck. And they typically invoked one of two reactions. Fear...or respect. Or at times, an odd combination of both.

It was a subject that was eventually broached in their circle...namely due to the connection it bore to the loss of Naruto’s parents, and the formation of his whisker-like scars: marks from the blast of the rebounded killing curse that swiped across his cheeks as an infant. Both he and Sakura had been openly suspicious of the boy for a time.

...but not Hinata.

By that time, she’d known him the longest, and vouched for him without question. Even if he were related to Madara, that didn’t make him Madara. And there were plenty of good witches and wizards, she had read, who had come from Slytherin. And if the notion of being pureblood meant believing in the superiority of it, then...didn’t that include her, too?

Her vehement but gentle counters quickly settled the matter.

After all, Sakura was Muggleborn, and Naruto was halfblood. If either she or Sasuke had any prejudice against so-called ‘dirty blood’...why would they be friends?

When Naruto and Sakura excused themselves for the afternoon, the latter having agreed to help the former with some course work, Sasuke had taken Hinata’s wrist as she made to leave the bench they’d claimed in one of the courtyards for their discussion.

“...Sasuke…?”

Expression unreadable save for its somber tinge, he found himself unable to look at her for a time. Mostly due to lingering guilt and feeling awkward at the previous exchange, but...also something else. They were in their fourth year at that time, and schedules weren’t the only things changing.

“...I just...wanted to say thank you.”

Her eyes flickered back and forth across his face, still unable to meet his. “...you don’t have to thank m-”

“Yeah, I do. I…” He sighed, glancing further aside. “...the subject’s a sore one, and...I knew that one of these days, it’d have to be addressed more...thoroughly between us. And I really was afraid of how it would go. Not very many people believe me when I try to explain, so…” Sasuke then dared to look to her briefly. “Your support, it...it meant a lot. And...I think it did a lot, too.”

Softening, Hinata slowly retook her seat beside him. “I’m sorry about how they reacted.”

“No...they have every right to. Sakura has a lot to be afraid of because of Madara and his followers - their plans. And Naruto, well...he lost everything because of Madara. If I have any connection to him -”

“But you don’t. Your parents said -?”

“My parents said, yeah. But the alliance in the clan, it...it led to a lot of bloodline records being lost or fudged. Some Uchiha are even half or quarter blood due to things getting spread thin. In reality...we can’t really know for sure. So...I can’t blame them for being wary.”

“But, Sasuke…” Easing from his grip he had yet to break, she instead gently cupped his hand with both her own. “You’ve already p-proven what kind of person you are. How many times have we s-stopped Madara’s plans? If you ever had any doubts, you had several chances to turn on us. To help him. But you never have. And...I know you never will. Just because you’re Uchiha - just because you’re pureblood, or in Slytherin - d-doesn’t make you a bad person. Your choices are what matter. Okay…?”

Though he listened to her words, Sasuke also found himself distracted by the warmth of her hands on his. A light shade of pink dusted the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears. “...I know. I guess I’m just...used to being thought of that way. I’ve accepted it.”

“Well...you don’t have to. You’re my friend. I trust you, and I b-believe in you. Just keep making those good choices, and...soon, everyone else will, too.”

“...yeah. Thanks, Hinata…”

Giving him a soft smile, she abandoned her grip and stood. “...well, I b-better get my work done, too. Have...have a good evening, Sasuke. See you in Transfiguration tomorrow.”

“All right. Night.” Watching her go, he sighed once she vanished, not quite ready to leave yet.

...he couldn’t help but notice how cold his hand felt without hers.

.oOo.

(This is a sequel to days 28, 230, 299, 316, 324, 327, and 330!) More Harry Potter crossover because...it's all I could think of for this prompt xD Not much happened, but we got a bit of backstory, and some fluff between the two of them. I wanted to do more but it's late and I'm v tired aha~ Anyway, that's all for today. Golly I'll be so relieved when I'm finally all caught up! Thanks for reading~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #like magic [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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xfimnotdone · 5 years ago

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Fight the Loneliness

Part 2 (Part 1 on a03) NC-17

Sometime before falling asleep, Scully pulls the curtains shut blocking out all light. The room darkening curtains cast the room in a mysterious glow; the only light escaping the edges, framing the windows.

She expected to rise first, knowing Mulder would probably have a hangover. However, she startles by the flush of the toilet. Her eyes snap open and she surveys her room, glancing at the clock; 9:22am. Scully catches sight of Mulder’s figure as he pads silently from the bathroom, reapproaching her bed.

She doesn’t know why she’s still sitting here; why she didn’t get up, shower, get dressed, pretend like nothing happened. It’s as if she were a magnet, drawn to this situation, noticing another change in their relationship and powerless to walk away from it.

“Hi,” he greets, rubbing a hand through his hair. She has never really seen Mulder look shy, until now. His eyes are downcast for a moment as his pointer finger scratches the stubble itching on his jawline.

“Hi,” she whispers back, her body still anchored in the chair like a bolder.

“You okay?” he asks, pausing for a moment, “Did you sleep in the chair?”

“Yeah,” she sighs with a smile, but avoids his gaze.

“Why? Why didn’t you leave my ass on your couch? I would have!”

“Mulder, you would’ve rolled right off. Not only are you too tall, you were way too drunk,” she states.

“I uh, I’m sorry for all this.”

“It’s okay.” Scully finally gathers the courage to get up after gauging his state of mind.

“Mulder...um...how much do you remember...from last night?” she questions, approaching him only by a step.

“I remember calling a cab.”

“Thank goodness for that!” she chuckles and as her mirth dies he can see her thinking.

“Anything else?” she presses. Mulder grabs the side of her arm sweetly, just holding her. His touch makes her shiver and she hopes he can’t tell.

“I remember...everything,” he confesses, bites his lip and lowers his brow, seeking her eyes.

Scully swears she feels butterflies in her stomach. They’re fluttering madly, tickling her insides and making her squirm. She wonders if he is going to kiss her. Holding her breath as his face slowly inches lower towards hers, she feels the magnetic force draw her in. She prepares her lips, tongue snaking out to wet the pathway.

“Everything?” her whisper is barely audible now as his hand leaves go of her arm and cups her face.

“I remember feeling how wet you were for me,” Mulder reveals. His hazel eyes were sparkling with knowledge as he waits for her response.

“Oh God,” Scully gulps, closing her eyes in embarrassment. His body is millimeters from hers now, she can feel the hardness of his muscles, smell his clothes, feel the warmth of his skin. Her hands slide to his hips to steady herself.

“It was the hottest thing I’ve ever felt in my life,” he admits, then slips his tongue into her mouth, cupping the back of her head and pulling her into the kiss. Scully kisses back, sucking on his bottom lip matching the fervor and pressure he is giving. He changes angles, plunging his tongue deeper, mimicking how his cock might do. She doesn’t think anyone has ever kissed her like that.

Her nerves began to grip her, thinking of his cock. It had been so long since she had seen one in all its glory, let alone Mulder’s. Scully’s hands roam over his chest, down his stomach until her shaking fingers tug the hem of his shirt up. Her fingers slip under the soft fabric, reaching high to rub his wiry chest hair, scratching her nails in it until she lightly presses her palm over his pounding heart.

She has never been so turned on in her life. He pulls back, placing his head on her forehead, they both look down at their heaving chests, trying to catch their breath. He daringly places an index finger in the V of her shirt, tracing the valley between her breasts.

“Please Scully. I’m not drunk anymore. And...I need you...” Mulder pleads.

“God,” she sighs, her eyes closing heavily in defeat. Scully tunnels her fingers through his hair while his lips blaze a trail down her neck, nuzzling into the top of her shirt. Her eyes blink open once more, noticing the darkness of the room, it feels secretive, hot. She knows she shouldn’t be doing this. Guilt tries to creep in, knowing that a sexual relationship with Mulder could ruin everything they have. But, she was too far gone to stop it now, her need throbbing between her thighs.

He roughly pushes her down onto the bed, surprising her by his dominance, but it excites her. This is passionate Mulder. When he’s into something, he’s all in. There’s no stopping him now.

Mulder slides open the buttons on her pajama top and pushes the fabric aside, not even granting himself time to look before hastily latching on to Scully’s nipple. He pulls and plucks at it with his lips, drawing it out, making it stand at attention and beg for more as he palms the other breast. He buries his nose and lips into her cleavage, smelling her skin and pressing her breasts to his cheeks while she holds his head tight.

“Mulder,” she whimpers, encouraging him as she let her top slide off her shoulders to the floor. Pulling her pants and panties off in one swipe, he throws them to the floor and grabs her calves, dragging her to the edge of the bed. Immediately, she realizes his intentions and she thought she might die of pleasure at the thought of his mouth on her.

“Oh my God. We shouldn’t do this,�� her big blue eyes meet his, wild and fearful in the low light. He meets her eye contact fiercely, his head between her legs and sticks out his flat tongue, pressing it to her dripping slit. Scully trembles, slowly relaxing her legs to open herself more to him.

“No one has to know. We can keep it secret...if you want,” Mulder whispers, placing his cheek to the inside of her thigh, cradling her leg to his face like a phone. His expression displayed that of a puppy dog, she could not deny him. She could feel his breath, the air tickling her skin, causing a palpable drop of wetness to release from her core.

“Secret? This is dirty,” she breathes. For a moment he’s not sure, but then he thinks she’s playing.

“Umm...it is. Do you like it dirty, Scully?” he hums, dragging is jaw along the inside of her leg, his whiskers brushing, lower and lower. He pounces on her clit like a snake biting; quick with pursed lips, grabbing the little bundle of nerves tight in his lips. She cries out in pleasure, bucking into his face and grabbing at his head.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you Scully?” he growls, lapping at her, tasting her. Scully is whimpering, clamping her legs around his head, unable to think of anything else but the pleasure he is delivering.

“Tell me how to make you come,” Mulder mumbles with his mouth full of her. He tugs at her folds with his lips, pulling them out and squeezing with pressure.

“Ughhhh….I...God...” she moans, her body is shaking. He lightly pinches her clit between his knuckles and flicks it with the pad of his thumb, all the while diving his tongue into her core rapidly. “Ahhhhh, ...please!” she cries.

He’s not convinced he’s done the job, so he plunges two fingers inside, searching for the magic spot he knows will make her come. Scully is squirming now, kicking, almost as if she’s riding a bike in bed and he lays his body along hers to pin her down. His mouth moves to suck the bulging tendons in her neck as he lets his hand take over.

“It’s okay, I got you,” he whispers sweetly into her skin, watching his own hand pump her hard and fast. He finally hits the spot, pressing hard on her clit with his thumb as she convulses into soundless cries. When she calms, he is stroking her stomach, feeling every shape and angle of her body. Scully reaches back, runs her hand through his hair, her eyes still closed in contentment.

He leans down to kiss her, but she quickly dodges him, rolling away. For a split moment he panics, worried he’d some how screwed this up and she was running from him. But she turns back towards him, playfully grabbing his cock. He’s laid out flat now, his erection prominently straining towards his belly as she crawls onto his stretched out leg.

“Ahh God, Scully,” he moans when he feels her press her wetness just above his knee, grinding herself on him as her tongue licked him from root to tip. Mulder exhaled deeply, trying to control himself and reaching a focal point on the ceiling for good measure.

Scully pulled the flat of her tongue up his shaft, swirling and enveloping him in her mouth on the downstroke, then peering up at him to see if he was watching. He is watching with lustful eyes and a gaping mouth. Mulder ever so gently tugs at the base of her skull, lifting her up his shaft and when she reaches his tip once more he stops her, “C’mere.”

She crawls up his body, the cold air hitting the wetness she’s left on his leg. He meets her with a ghost kiss, barely grazing her lips as his fingers tangle in her air. Scully’s lips are quivering and she is nervous that a tear might escape as she pinches her eyes shut tight.

“You okay?” he whispers, kissing her lips softly.

“It’s been so long. God it’s been so long,” she pants into his ear, pulling him into a hug. He releases her embrace and pushes her hip, nudging her to flip over onto her side. Mulder slides into her slowly, feeling her tight body suction his cock like a vacuum. He slides one leg in between both of hers and feels her relax around him as he starts to move.

Before long he is humping her backside like an animal, holding onto her breasts for leverage with the force of his thrusts. She groans, whimpers and claws at the pillow as he fills her with every stroke. The room became nothing more than wet slapping skin and ragged breaths.

“Yesss,” she hisses when he sinks into her as far as he can go.

“I won’t stop...come for me...one more time…” he begs, pressing his fingers back to her clit in circulating strokes.

“Harder!” she cries and he presses his hand harder onto her while pumping as fast as he humanly can. He accidentally slips out, moaning as his come spurts wildly between her legs. Scully cries out too but he keeps his hand clamped to her until he’s sure she’s finished. Spent, he collapses on his side, nuzzling into her back and laying his hot cheek between her sweat glazed shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry. This is a mess. It’s all a mess,” Mulder states as he rocks his forehead back and forth on her back, trying to hide his embarrassment. Scully rolls over to face him, concern on her face and locks of her fiery hair sticking to her cheek.

“Mulder. It’s okay,” she comforts, tracing the lines of his jaw with her fingernail, scratching his stubble.

“So now what?” he says after a beat, searching her eyes.

“We go on…” she whispers and closes her eyes, needing to hide for a moment to gather her thoughts. Still reeling from her orgasms, her heart hammering in her chest, she wasn’t really sure what should happen next.

His forehead crinkles with worry lines, his jaw slack and sad, “I can understand...if you want to pretend this didn’t happen.” He pulls away, rolling to his back. She feels the dip in the bed as it shifts under him and she reaches out to grab his forearm.

“We can pretend....until we get...lonely again.” Her eyes are still closed peacefully as her hand stretches to play with the damp hair of his chest. He smiles with hope and places his hand over hers.

“Scully?”

“Humm?”

“I think I might be lonely tomorrow,” he jokes and they both giggle as he pulls a sheet up over them.

#@today-in-fic

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okietokiee · 5 years ago

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Fic: Hjönk, Hjönk

Pairing: Skwisgaar Skwigelf/Toki Wartooth

Rating: M

I was really inspired by @picklespunchedme @bittebecca @sonderrbeee ‘s various fan art of clown!Skwisgaar 😳 thanks so much for letting me write a fic based on your gorgeous art!! 💕

Summary:

Skwisgaar makes some especially harsh remarks which cause Toki to start avoiding him, and the lack of contact is really starting to make the Swede’s sex drive go absolutely haywire.

Fortunately, Skwisgaar comes up with a genius (albeit horrifyingly embarrassing) plan to make it up to his hot-tempered boyfriend lover.

And Toki positively loves it. Perhaps a little too much.

——————

Skwisgaar knew he had fucked up.

After countless years of brutally harsh, biting criticisms and demeaning insults, Toki had finally had it. Normally he was able to take Skwisgaar’s comments, admittedly not always in a stride, but with minimal bloodshed (most of the time). And he wasn’t even completely sure what was different about today, about the disparaging remarks he’d grown used to throwing out daily.

Maybe it was the stress of having to record a whole knew album from scratch? The stress of the rising tensions becoming so goddamn obvious lately? He knows he’s not the smartest person around, but you’d have to be blind to not see the cracks forming in their band’s already fragile dynamics. He knows it’s not just affecting Nathan and Pickles.

But whatever the underlying causes were, all it took was an offhand, “That’s was fuckins dildos, dos it agains idiots,” during a slow-moving rehearsal to get Toki raging like a spoiled five-year-old kid told that no, he could not have candy for dinner.

After screeching and using his flying-V to destroy a fair amount of their studio and sound equipment, Toki had tired himself out and retired to his bedroom.

He’d also taken to avoiding him for the past week. And maybe the Skwisgaar from a few years ago wouldn’t have (outwardly) cared so much, but ever since they’d shared an earth-shattering, momentous night together just months before, they’d both been inhabiting the same bed for a majority of nights.

And, though Skwisgaar would rather die a painful death by firing squad than admit it to anyone, Toki had been the only person he’d been sleeping with ever since that night. He loathed to label it as anything serious, but that didn’t change the fact that he was painfully reluctant to break this surprising streak of faithfulness, his longest one yet.

However, regardless of how much he didn’t want to sleep with anyone that wasn’t a dopey Norwegian guitar player with a penchant for tantrums and hissy fits, that didn’t change the fact that his sex drive was going fucking haywire.

Storming into the Mordhaus living room, he irritably asked, “Has anyones seens our dildos rhythm guitarist?”

“Eh, I think he went out drinkin’ with thet clown again,” a stoned out Pickles mumbled from the couch.

“Whats!? I thoughts we puts a restrainings orders on dat creep!”

Nathan sighed from a nearby desk, putting down his book. “Yeah, we did. But you know that kid. He just loves those fucking clowns.”

That unfortunate string of words made an idea pop up in Skwisgaar’s head.

“…coulds you repeats dat?”

“I said he loves those goddamn clowns.”

“Nos, de odder words!”

Nathan glared, confused. “Those fucking clowns?”

Skwisgaar grinned manically. “Ja! Dat weirdos loves fucking clowns!”

Pickles could be heard potentially dying of laughter a few feet away.

Nathan narrowed his eyes, a disgusted grimace on his mouth. “I know you suck at English Skwisgaar, but ugh. That’s some brutal imagery.”

Skwisgaar, ever the trooper, did not let the revolting thoughts affect him, as his plan was coming to fruition in his mind. Yes, Toki was annoyingly fond of childish gimmicks, clowns included. Toki could never even stay mad at Dr. Rockso, an old drugged-up, strung-out rock-and-roll clown, no matter what shit that creepy asshole put him through.

Yes, he knew what he had to do. He didn’t like it one bit, and it could potentially ruin his reputation completely if word ever got out that he even considered this.

But…

Skwisgaar bit his lip, his thoughts suddenly full of brown whiskers and childish giggles.

It would be worth it.

——————

Hours later, Skwisgaar was regretting every single choice he’d ever made in life that had led up to this point. He felt like a fool and looked like one too.

His only solace was that the random klokateer he’d ordered to find him this costume was no longer capable of ever blabbing his secret to anyone, at least in any way that involved a functional mouth. Or hands.

And now he found himself pacing around Toki’s small room, waiting for the little dildo to get back home. The sound of his baggy blue and yellow pants swishing and the stomping of his large red shoes did nothing to alleviate his growing anxiety.

Skwisgaar scratched at his neck, careful not to smudge any of the meticulously applied clown make-up he’d taken an hour to perfect. He was vaguely grateful that his experience with corpse paint made this endeavor slightly easier, but also horrified at exactly how naturally circus make-up came to him.

As he was pondering his deteriorating mental state, he heard the door creak open and a surprised, ear-shattering, absolutely delighted squeal.

Toki crashed face-first into his chest, holding tighter than a newborn koala to its mother.

“Oh Odin! Yous a real cool clowns Skwisgaar!” Toki gleefully said, nuzzling the red ruffles around his neck.

Skwisgaar was glad his red cheeks were camouflaged by the blindingly white paint.

“Eugh… Ja, I guess I ams,” the Swede nonchalantly agreed, not meeting his lover’s eyes.

Toki paused from his snuggling, and gazed adoringly up at Skwisgaar’s embarrassed face.

“Skwisgaar… Dids you do dis because you know Tokis been mads at yous?”

Skwisgaar coughed awkwardly and avoided his gaze. “Maybes if a dumb dildos hadn’t beens avoidins me for sos long, it woulds not haves come to dis…”

Toki smirked. “Yous just proving Toki needs to do dat more often.”

“Fucks you-!”

“Okej,” Toki cut him off with a contented sigh, cuddling into Skwisgaar’s colorful, silky costume even more.

This was the closest they’d been in a week, and Skwisgaar’s body was responding rather excitedly to their close proximity.

Toki giggled, feeling the growing hardness coming from Skwisgaar’s loose trousers, and he pulled the Swede over to the bed and pushed him down, crawling right on top of him and going in for a deep, fervent kiss. With the right angle, Toki was able to avoid dislodging the bright red clown nose on his lover’s face.

With a few well-practiced maneuvers Skwisgaar was able to bring Toki down to only his underwear, but when he made movements to remove his own ridiculous clothes he was stopped by a firm hold.

“Nos, keeps it on.” Toki’s flushed, erotic expression was very convincing.

“Ja, fines…” Skwisgaar groaned, canting his hips up, desperate for any kind of friction.

Toki smiled, reaching for the lube that has been ever-present at his bedside table for the past few months. He took a moment to take in Skwisgaar’s smudged clown make-up and gorgeous, smoldering expression. The juxtaposition was disorienting.

“Skwisgaar…?”

“Ja Tokis?”

“Do yous maybe… I knows we havent’s dones it likes dis yet, but,” Toki mumbled, his face red and expression coquettish, “I think I wants to tries to take it.”

Skwisgaar was at a loss for words, his mind (and body) already overheating. So far Toki had been the only one topping, citing his lack of experience with men and dislike of being dominated as his main reasons for wanting to avoid switching positions. And Skwisgaar hardly cared, always being very satisfied by Toki’s eager enthusiasm.

But the thought of finally being able to become so wholly one with Toki had Skwisgaar’s head spinning and heart racing.

“Of course älskling, as long as yous ready,” Skwisgaar said, rubbing circles on Toki’s naked hips.

Toki’s eager nodding was answer enough and then he wiggled out of his underwear.

Skwisgaar leaned forward to get a hold of the lube, but Toki pushed him back down.

“Yous just watch for nows,” Toki murmured with a sweet smile, opening the lube to prepare himself.

Skwisgaar couldn’t handle watching a mewling, trembling Toki Wartooth preparing himself for long without feeling like he was going to literally explode into a cloud of confetti. The Swede pushed his own baggy pants down, not fully taking it off but exposing his painfully erect manhood. He moaned, giving himself a few strokes as he continued watching his lover teasing him.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, Toki stopped and got another generous dollop of lube for Skwisgaar Jr. before lining himself up on the Swede’s lap.

Skwisgaar watched enraptured as Toki slowly lowered himself down with a seductive whine and several sensuous movements of his hips.

“Ah, fuckins hell Toki,” Skwisgaar cried, thrusting up desperately.

Toki reciprocated in kind with more moans and wet, raunchy kisses, ruining a good portion of Skwisgaar’s make-up.

As it was getting especially intense, their movements both in sync and frantic, Toki leaned down and did something incredibly peculiar and, honestly, kind of hot, at least to Skwisgaar’s current fucked-out-of-his-mind state.

“Hjönk, hjönk,” Toki murmured with a smile as he squeezed the large, squeaky clown nose on Skwisgaar’s face with something akin to reverence. All without once pausing his fast, unmerciful pace.

Skwisgaar was too goddamn horny and in love to question this, and he just responded by increasing his thrusts as well as his volume.

“Ah, for the loves of Odins, Toki I’ms gonna-” he punctuated with a shout, feeling Toki tighten around him.

After a long moment of blissful euphoria for both of them, Toki collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily and sneaking a few affectionate kisses along his neck.

“So ams guessings you not mads anymore?” Skwisgaar snickered, running his fingers through Toki’s now tangled, sexily-ruffled hair.

Toki giggled and playfully gave Skwisgaar’s big red nose, which surprisingly hadn’t fallen off at all during their vigorous lovemaking, a few more squeezes, filling the small room with obnoxiously loud honking noises.

“Nah, buts if you does something like dis every time I gets mad at yous then I gonnas make sure to be angry evens more oftens.” Toki chuckled, snuggling up to Skwisgaar’s now cum and sweat stained clown costume.

Skwisgaar sighed, equal parts hopelessly exasperated and desperately fond.

“Wells enjoys it while yous cans you dildo, dis ams not likelys to ever, ever happens again,” Skwisgaar said firmly.

Toki grinned mischievously and lifted himself up.

“I thinks Toki cans change yous mind abouts dat,” he declared proudly, slipping out of bed to walk over to his nearby work desk. He leaned over it enticingly, ass up, giving Skwisgaar the most pornographic come-hither look the Swede had ever seen.

“Comes over heres and let’s me convince yous,” Toki murmured suggestively, giving his cute butt a little shake.

And that night was the first of many that the halls of Mordhaus were filled with the echos of passionate Scandinavian honking and lovemaking.

——————

I don’t think Hjönk actually translates to anything but god I love that word LOL

Also, sorry for any weird mistakes I didn’t catch! I’ll edit it and maybe add some extra stuff soon and then post it on ao3 :D

#about to board a 13hr flight and im glad i was able to post this first LOL #also im only a lil bit ashamed to admit that ya i totally get the clownkink toki probs has :')#metalocalypse #dethklok #mtl #skwistok #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #my fanfic #fanfiction #lemon #clowns

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buzzdixonwriter · 5 years ago

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Hoo Noo Shmoo?

Never let it be said that this blog is flagging in its enthusiasm for flogging horses so dead they’re found in the glue bin at Office Max.

To whit, the Scorsese vs MCU brouhaha.

Bottom line: Scorsese is right. As well made as MCU movies are, they ain’t cinema, they’re glorified commercials to sell MCU product.

Full disclosure: I should know, since I wrote for G.I. Joe, Transformers, and a host of other toy-based syndicated animation shows. I’m happy with the work I did, I can point proudly to specific episodes I wrote that aspire to be more than mere half-hour commercials…

…but they ain’t art.

They ain’t art, despite our aspirations to do the best job we could, because ultimately we creators were not allowed to create what we felt best for our stories, but what Hasbro deemed vital to their sales.

(The closest we got to art was when Hasbro cancelled The Inhumanoids toy line in mid-production of the TV series, and said we could finish our broadcast commitment however we saw fit so long as it didn’t result in an FCC complaint. As a result, we went nuts.)

My Hasbro / Sunbow experience remains a highpoint of my creative life, so I’m not denigrating the talent, skill, ability, spirit, and enthusiasm of those making MCU movies.

…but they ain’t art.

Now, those who love MCU movies think Scorsese’s comments are a slam against them.

Welllll…no, not directly.

But they do underscore how popularity -- especially of media designed to push product -- is a faulty measuring stick for artistic merit.

Case in point: The Shmoo.

Wuzza shmoo, you ask (and thus proving my point)?

Shmoos were extremely popular in the late 1940s. Part of the wonderfully wacky world cartoonist Al Capp created for his hit Li’l Abner comic strip, shmoos represented a parable on American consumerism, modern day geese laying not mere golden eggs but birthday cakes with candles a’blazin’.

As Capp described them:

They reproduce asexually and are incredibly prolific, multiplying faster than rabbits. They require no sustenance other than air.

Shmoos are delicious to eat, and are eager to be eaten. If a human looks at one hungrily, it will happily immolate itself -- either by jumping into a frying pan, after which they taste like chicken, or into a broiling pan, after which they taste like steak. When roasted they taste like pork, and when baked they taste like catfish. Raw, they taste like oysters on the half-shell.

They also produce eggs (neatly packaged), milk (bottled, grade-A), and butter -- no churning required. Their pelts make perfect boot leather or house timbers, depending on how thick one slices them.

They have no bones, so there's absolutely no waste. Their eyes make the best suspender buttons, and their whiskers make perfect toothpicks. In short, they are simply the perfect ideal of a subsistence agricultural herd animal.

Naturally gentle, they require minimal care and are ideal playmates for young children. The frolicking of shmoos is so entertaining (such as their staged "shmoosical comedies") that people no longer feel the need to watch television or go to the movies.

Some of the more tasty varieties of shmoo are more difficult to catch, however. Usually shmoo hunters, now a sport in some parts of the country, use a paper bag, flashlight, and stick to capture their shmoos. At night the light stuns them, then they may be whacked in the head with the stick and put in the bag for frying up later on.

Of course, in the original strip continuity, the shmoos were quickly eradicated, driven to extinction by food packagers who feared bankruptcy.

It was a sharp, biting message, and one that looked critically at both insatiable consumerism and capitalism’s claims of superiority.

Capp, of course, was too savvy a marketeer himself to eliminate the shmoos entirely, and so he provided for one breeding pair to survive…and for the shmoos to make repeated appearances for the rest of Li’l Abner’s run.

Shmoo mania ran rampant with shmoo dolls, shmoo clocks, shmoo games, shmoo candy, shmoo snacks, and shmoo apparel.

The money truck basically backed up to Capp’s front door and dumped its load on his porch. Shmoos proved insanely popular and it seemed the mania would never end…

…except it did.

To mangle metaphors, you can only take so many trips to the same well before your audience starts asking “What? Beans again?”

And then, in a fickle flash, it’s over.

I’d be hard pressed today to find anyone younger than the boomer cohort who ever heard of Al Capp or Li’l Abner unless their school or community theatre presented the Broadway musical adaptation of the strip (the show remains popular with amateur theatrical troupes such as high schools and colleges because the huge cast of Dogpatch citizens guarantees everybody who tries out for the show will land some part in it).

For all their popularity and merchandise and media impact -- songs on the radio, big spreads in weekly news magazines -- the shmoos left virtually no cultural footprint.

(Full disclosure yet again: I wrote for a Scooby-doo knock-off by Hanna-Barbera called The New Shmoo and it was a piece of crap, abandoning the whole consumerism point of the original shmoos and making them -- or just “it” in our case -- a pseudo-funny dog sidekick for a squad of mystery solving kids. And it wasn’t a piece of crap because we didn’t try our best, it was a piece of crap because the shmoo was treated as ubiquitous “product” under the misconception that of course everybody younger than Joe Barbera would recognize the name and love the character so deeply that they’d simultaneously develop amnesia about what made the original character so appealing.)

Product.

That’s what one of the most brilliant, most poignant, most spot-on commentaries on rampant consumerism and ruthless capitalism ironically reduced down to. Product.

There’s a line in Jurassic Park that resonates here: ”Life will find a way.”

Let’s paraphrase that to “Art will find a way” because like life, art is an expression of the creative urge.

Right now, by and large, it’s trapped in the giant all encompassing condom of corporate consumerism, providing fun and pleasure and excitement, but not really creating anything new, to be wadded up and thrown away when the suits are done screwing us.

But every now and then there’s a tiny pinprick in the sheath, and when that happens there’s the chance of something wonderful, something meaningful, something of lasting value emerging.

It is possible for art to emerge from a corporate context, but only if the corporate intent is to produce a work of art for its own purposes. Michelangelo carved David as a work for hire, the local doge commissioning the sculpture because he wanted to impress peers and peasants by donating the biggest statue ever made by the hottest artist of the era (and even then Michelangelo needed to resort to subterfuge to keep the doge from “improving” on his work with “suggestions” [read “commands”].)

The very first Rocky movie was a work of art because the producers focused on telling a simple, singular story about a loser who could only win by going the distance, not by defeating his opponent but by refusing to be beaten by him.

It’s a great cinematic moment that rings true and it’s going to last forever…unlike sequels Rocky II - V where Rocky fights supervillains like Mr. T and a robot (hey, that was the movie playing in my head when I watched Rocky IV and it was a helluva lot more entertaining than what I actually saw onscreen).

The suits castrated Rocky, reducing him from a unique universal cultural touchstone down to…well…product.

The MCU movies are product; rather, they are two-hour+ commercials to sell product in the form of videogames, action figures, T-shirts, and Underoos.

The real art occurred almost 60 years ago when Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko knocked out page after page as fast as they could, drawing deep from the wellsprings of their own interests, experiences, and passions.

(“What about Stan?” I hear you ask. Look, we all love Stan, but truth be told his great contribution to the MCU came in his service as drum major for the Merry Marvel marching Society. God bless him for firing up the fan base’s enthusiasm for the Marvel bullpen’s work, but compare what his artists did before and after their collaboration with him to what he did before and after his editorial tenure at Marvel and it’s clear upon whose shoulders the muses rested.)

As much fun as MCU movies are (I’ve seen about 1/3 of ‘em and enjoyed most of what I saw), I also recognize in them the harm they do.

They are promoted heavily to sell product to raise the fortunes of one of the biggest corporations on the planet, a corporation that holds control over five of the largest, most popular entertainment brands on the market.

To protect their cash cows, Disney chokes potential rivals in their cribs.

Think there’s going to be another Alien or Predator movie now that Disney owns them and Star Wars? Why create rivals to a mega-successful property you already own? (I will be genuinely surprised if we see another Guardians Of The Galaxy movie in light of the faltering popularity of Star Wars in Disney’s eyes; they’re going to want to shore up their billion dollar investment rather than call it a day and let some upstart -- even an upstart they own 100% -- rob them of revenue.)

Disney’s battle plan to choke out all potential rivals leaves no room in the DEU (Disney Expanded Universe) for independent minded creators.

They want competent hired pens who can churn out the product they desire in order to bolster sales of other products derived from those.

(Even more full disclosure: I wrote for Chip ‘n’ Dale’s Rescue Rangers as well as some Aladdin and Scrooge McDuck comic book stories.)

Disney’s MCU, for all its expertly executed whiz-bang, is a bloated, soulless zombie, a giant gaudy inflated parade balloon blocking the vision of others.

There’s a scene in the movie The Founder -- a genuine cinematic work of art that comments ironically on the selling of a product -- that applies here.

Ray Kroc (Michael Keaton) relentlessly browbeats the McDonald brothers (Nick Offerman and John Carroll Lynch) into letting him replace their real milkshakes with what will come to be known as the McShake, an ersatz product that at best reminds one of what a real milkshake should taste like.

The McDonald Brothers are horrified. Not only does it not taste like a real milkshake, but it goes against the very grain of what they desire as restauranteurs: To provide quality food quickly for their customers, trading value for value.

Kroc will have none of this. To him the customers are simply one more obstacle between him and their money.

He doesn’t see them as the source of his revenue, but as impediments to same.

What benefits them, what nurtures their diets, what gives them pleasure, what trades value for value is completely unimportant to him.

They exist only to make him rich and powerful.

By the end of the film, Kroc has effectively declared war on his own partners, his own employees, his own customers. He recognizes he is not in the business his customers and employees and partners think he’s in (i.e., fast food) but rather in the real estate business, buying land that McDonald’s franchises must lease from him in order to operate.

By the end, he’s not concerned with how well his customers eat, or how well his employees are treated, or how financially secure his franchise managers feel.

By the end, all he wants is the money, and he doesn’t care how his franchises make it so long as they pass it along to him.

As a result, McDonald’s contributes heavily to America’s obesity and diabetes epidemics, advising their employees to take second jobs so they can afford to continue working for them at substandard wages.

Disney’s MCU is a super-sized Happy Meal™ that’s ruining the cultural health of its consumers.

#Marvel #Disn #Jack Kirby #Stan Lee #Steve Ditko #Star Wars #MCU #Rocky #Martin Scorsese #media #movies #superheroes

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fragmentedink-archived · 5 years ago

Text

Hell to Pay: Chapter Sixteen

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV

cowriter: @lux-scriptum

A/N: trigger warning for verbal, physical abuse, and implied smut

Lev woke up tucked halfway underneath Nik, his arms folded against his chest and his face smooshed against the pillow. A sleepy twist of his head told him Cameron wasn’t in bed with them. When he lifted his head further, the clock informed him it was midmorning. Lev dropped his head back on the pillow for a moment, before he wiggled out from under Nik, wincing a little. He was sore.

He poked Nik’s shoulder lightly. “Nik.” Nik didn’t even stir. Lev shook his shoulder again, huffing. “Nik.”

Nik gave a whine. “No.”

Lev huffed again. He leaned over, pressing a kiss to Nik’s nose. “I’m coming back in thirty minutes, bearing coffee and an insistence you get up, Nik,” he warned, before scooting off the bed.

“Noooo,” Nik buried his face under his pillow.

“Half an hour, Nik,” Lev promised. He debated going to find clothes, but in the end just slid down the hall. He only hesitated in the kitchen doorway for a moment, watching Cameron work, before settling at the table, wincing again a little. Definitely sore. Good kind of sore, though, the kind that made him smile just a little once he was done wincing.

“Is that breakfast?” He asked Cameron. “I’m hungry.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Cameron simply said, “Yes. Help yourself.”

Lev considered the distance between the counter beside Cameron where the crepes were and the table he was at, and then levered himself up. Definitely too hungry to just sit there. He shuffled across the kitchen, pressing his face to Cameron’s shoulder briefly before taking a plate and sidling over to the table again.

Lev was halfway through his crepe by the time Cameron sat down with his own plate and what looked like a mug of tea. “This is delicious,” Lev mumbled around a bite.

“I know,” Cameron said. For a few minutes they ate in silence, and then Cameron asked, “Did you sleep okay?”

Lev nodded, popping his last bite in his mouth before answering. “Didn’t wake up once. I didn’t mean to sleep as long as I did, honestly.”

“Good,” Cameron replied. “You need to sleep.”

Lev couldn’t really argue with that. “Most people do,” he agreed. He hesitated, setting his fork down, and then decided to just fold his arms on the table and watch Cameron eat instead of saying anything.

Cameron lifted a single brow, taking a sip of his tea. Lev blinked right back, not really sure what he’d said to earn that look. “Sarcasm is not your strong suit,” Cameron finally said.

Lev blinked again. “I wasn’t- I wasn’t being sarcastic?”

The look Cameron gave him was too close to a frown for Lev's comfort.

“What?” Lev finally asked. “DId I say something wrong?”

“No.”

Lev gave up. Instead he went to take another bite, before realizing he was out of food. He set his fork down again. He hesitated, and then changed his mind again.

Cameron pushed his plate at Lev. “If you are hungry, just ask me. I’d be more angry at you not eating your fill than you bothering me for more food.”

Lev blinked. “I don’t want to take your food,” he said, a little distressed.

Cameron’s mouth twitched. “You take my clothes.”

“That’s different,” Lev protested.

Cameron set his mug down. “How so?”

Lev shrugged. “Well, I can give those back. I really don't think you want the food back once I’ve eaten it.”

“I can cook more food. If you tore my shirt I wouldn't be able to take that back,” Cameron countered.

“I wouldn’t tear one of your shirts,” Lev protested.

“How do you know? Accidents happen, Levant.”

Lev considered that. “Then I’d fix it.” He paused. “After crying for a bit.”

“Just eat the fucking crepes, Lev. It’s not that deep.”

Lev took the plate. He took a couple bites, and then said shyly, “Thank you.” He took another bite, and then, “I’ve been hungry lately, but I’m just... really hungry today.”

Lev couldn’t decipher the look Cameron shot him. “Eat whenever you want,” he finally said.

“Oh,” Lev said. “Okay,” he added. He finished his plate in silence, before saying quietly, “I’m excited to get my stuff. I missed having warm milk and honey in the mornings.” He looked up at Cameron, smiling a little. “I always have it in a particular mug. It has whiskers on it.” He paused, before saying in a softer voice, “Fax got it for me.”

Cameron seemed to hesitate before saying, “Nik will make sure you get it, I'm sure.”

Lev nodded, folding his arms on the table. “I don't want to drag my entire house over here. That’s rude. But... I know you don't like people using your cooking stuff, so I was wondering if I can bring some of my pans?”

The blank expression on Cameron’s face made Lev nervous, but in the end all Cameron said was, “I’ll make room.”

Lev kicked his feet back and forth. “I know it’s kind of dumb but I’ve missed my stuffed animals.”

Cameron scoffed softly, drinking his tea.

“I still have those jorts,” Lev said, trying to keep the playfulness out of his voice.

Cameron’s nose wrinkled. “You need to burn those.”

Lev snorted. “And waste a perfectly good pair of shorts I can use to see that look on your face?”

Cameron narrowed his eyes. “Teasing me will end in me teasing you. Remember that.”

Lev wasn’t able to hide his smile. “I didn’t dislike the teasing last night.” One of his hands drifted up to a half healed bite mark absently, before he shook his head. “But point taken.”

Cameron gave a small, “Hmph,” and went back to his tea.

Lev stood, gathering his plates. “Is there fresh coffee? I told Nik I’d bring him a cup in half an hour...” He glanced at the clock on the stove. “An hour ago.”

“Just make some more,” Cameron told him.

Lev shrugged, dropping the plates off in the sink. “Do you want me to wash these?” He offered. “Nik’s not going anywhere.”

“...sure.”

Lev flashed him a smile, and went to work. Once the plates were dried and put away, he went to figure out Cameron’s coffee maker. “I never did like coffee,” Lev confessed. “Fax tried to teach me how to like it, but we could never put enough cream or sugar in it enough to make it... drinkable.”

“I go both ways.”

Lev looked over at him, brows furrowing. “Both ways?”

Cameron just snorted. After a moment, Lev decided it was something else that’d just gone over his head, and went back to making the coffee. Once he had a mug, he turned back to Cameron.

“Wish me luck? I’m not sure even coffee will get him out of bed,” he said as he headed for the doorway.

As he left, he heard Cameron snort. “If coffee won't, cock will.”

-----

Nik didn’t bother opening his eyes when he heard Lev calling his name. His only response was burrowing deeper into the bed, sleep still heavy in his bones. He was too tireddd and he just wanted to keep sleeping. But Lev didn’t let up when he started lightly shaking Nik. He tried turning over but Lev whined and bit into Nik’s shoulder. When Nik moaned softly, Lev pressed his face against the middle of Nik’s back. “Sex can wait. I wanna go get this over with.”

Nik groaned and pulled his pillow more over his head, not bothering to answer Lev. He was about to settle back into sleep when he felt the blankets being ripped off him. “Nikolas,” Cameron’s voice cut through the room. “Get out of bed.”

“Cameron, don’t be mean,” Lev fussed. “I’m working on it.”

Nik could almost feel the flat look Cameron gave Lev. But Nik forced himself up, knowing if he was any longer then he’d get a bucket of ice water on him. He scrubbed his face and glowered at them both. “Stars. Help me if I don’t sleep in,” he grumbled, getting out of bed. He flicked Lev a look on the way to the bathroom. “I better get that sex.”

When he came back, Lev was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at him. Nik gave him a sleepy grin. “I know, right.”

Lev flushed a pale gold. “I know what I like,” Lev said, holding Nik’s gaze.

Nik sketched a brow. “Honey, everyone likes me,” he said, pleased. He hummed while pulling out a pale blue cropped shirt with silver lettering and a pair of low waisted ripped distressed jeans. He could feel Lev’s eyes pinned on him while he dressed.

“That must be nice,” Lev said, sincerely, after a beat.

Nik brushed his fingers along his bare midriff. “Certainly is nice for my sex life.”

Lev gave a small wheeze and unfolded from the bed and came in for a kiss. “I bet,” he said, pressing a hand to Nik’s stomach.

Nik gripped his chin and kissed him deeply on the lips. He pulled back enough to look down Lev’s body. “Are you going buck naked or are you going to actually get clothes on?” How did he manage to be the dressed one in this situation?

Lev blinked. “Oh, crap. Yeah. I- yeah. I’ll go dressed. Go get dressed.”

“Don’t let me convince you,” Nik said, slipping his hands in his pockets. “If you want to go naked, please do.”

Lev just flicked him a really Nik look before peeling away from him. Nik just followed him back to Lev’s bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe, watching Lev pull out a pair of skinny jeans and one of Nik’s shirts he had managed to steal at some time. Nik rose a brow when Lev pulled on the black zip up hoodie. Lev looked over at him. “What?”

Nik grinned. “You don’t look like you have an eating disorder anymore. Very nice.”

Lev winced and gave him a small, “Thank you?” He tugged at his jeans. “I might need to go shopping again, soon. I hope my stuff at home still fits.”

Nik shrugged. “If not, we can get you more.”

“Yeah but there’s sentimental value in some of that stuff.”

“Like what? Sex toys? Trust me, you’ll get over it,” he said, half kidding. When Lev opened his mouth, Nik held up a hand. “I’m kidding. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Lev kissed him… politely. “Let’s gooooo,” he said, lightly pulling Nik from the doorway.

“Yeah, alright,” Nik said, letting Lev pull him. “But when we get back…”

“I’ll blow you or something, whatever you want,” Lev promised.

“Mmm,” Nik hummed. “Noted.”

-------

Lev enjoyed being in the front seat. The windows were all rolled down, and Lev didn’t think Cameron would have let them listen to music this loud if he were here with them. Well. lev didn’ think Cameron would have let them listen to music like this at all. So. there was that.

Lev leaned his head against the windowsill, tracking the familiar roads. They were almost there, just a single street over. He tucked his jacket closer, letting out a soft breath as he wondered if the heat in his house was still on.

As he watched his house come into view, he felt himself tense up. Just a house, he told himself sternly, breathing out again. For once, it worked. Once the car pulled to a stop, Lev climbed out of the passenger seat, pushing his hands deep in his pockets. “You don’t have to come in,” he told Nik, staring at the front door. The lock was probably still broken, he realized.

Nik looked at him sharply. “Of course I’m going in. But why do you live in a barbie house?”

“It was just me,” Lev offered as he padded across the yard. “I wanted to feel safe. And discourage Amara from throwing parties here. Besides, it seemed a waste of money to get a big one.”

Nik didn’t seem any less agitated as he followed Lev inside. “Aren’t you literally loaded?”

Lev shot him a look. “Gramma is, anyway. But that doesn’t mean I should throw money around thoughtlessly?” He hesitated.

Nik made a beeline for the windows, shoving them open. “Living in a house you can breathe in is throwing away money thoughtlessly?”

“I don't mind it being small,” Lev said softly. “I didn’t expect to have to share the space with anyone. Didn’t want to, after...” He paused, blinking down at the carpet. Someone had tried to clean it, he realized. Tried, and clearly given up not even a quarter of the way through. Dried blood still crusted where they hadn’t finished.

“Fair enough, I guess,” Nik said, startling Lev out of his staring. He looked over at Nik, rather than keep looking.

“If I’d known that I’d one day have people over, I would have considered something bigger, but... Can’t see the future, Nik.” He smiled a little.

“It’s fine. You’re upgrading anyways. No offense.”

Lev looked back down at the stains. “I was... almost happy here.”

Nik’s fingers brushed the small of Lev’s back, dragging him back to the now. “Let's get your stuff and get out of here.”

Lev nodded. “Right,” he said. He shook his head, as if to clear it, and circled the little half bar into the kitchen. His wings were... gone. He didn’t know if he was relieved or not. Ignoring that, he went on his toes and pulled down the whisker mug. “This has to come back with us,” he said, half to himself. He looked back at Nik. “I’m gonna bring back some of my pans, too. So Cameron doesn’t have to worry about me messing up his. Not that I would, but... it’s Cameron.”

Nik snorted. “I hope it doesn’t ruin his aesthetic.”

Lev shrugged. “I asked before we left. He said he’d make room for mine.” He set the mug down. “I... I think I’ll tackle the kitchen last.” He turned around and headed for the bedroom. “I’ll get the windows.”

When Lev glanced back to see if Nik would follow, Nik’s gaze was firmly on his ass. “You do that.”

Lev rolled his eyes, and padded off to the bedroom. He went for the windows first, throwing them wide. After that he wandered over to the bed, tugging a ragged, well loved cat plushie close. The faded black fur was soft under his fingers, worn and familiar.

When Lev turned around, Nik was standing in the doorway. Lev waved the plush halfheartedly. “My Ma got this for me, about a month before my parents died,” he said, before dropping it lightly on the bed.

“That is honestly so soft I might puke,” was all Nik said.

Lev made a face. “It means a lot to me,” Lev said, a touch defensively. He headed for the closet. “Why don’t you.. I don't know, look through my drawers, see if I own anything Cameron won't make that face at me over if I bring it back.”

Nik wandered over to Lev’s dresser. “Hey no need to get defensive. So your mother wasn't useless. It’s fine.”

Lev poked his head out of the closet, before deciding he didn’t want to get into that. Instead he pulled a few shirts down, and tossed them on the floor. After some consideration, a couple more joined the pile he planned on bringing.

“You find anything you think I should bring?” Lev called.

The fact that he heard Nik give a hum made Lev pause. “Ooooh, what’s this?” Nik said.

Lev leaned out of the closet, and then groaned softly. “Nooo,” he said. “I forgot-”

Nik held up the stupid thong Silas had gotten Lev years ago.

“I never go through the slut drawer,” Lev said, flushing. “I forgot it was there. It’s been so long since Amara made me add to it...”

Nik continued to dig through the drawer. “We are bringing back every single thing in this draw- booty shorts.”

Lev wandered over. “Yeah.” He snagged a black pair. The word ‘angel’ was bedazzled across the ass. “Courtesy of Silas.”

“I’ve got to sit down with him.”

Lev laughed. “I think you’d like him. He made me laugh.” He snagged another. These said, ‘are you nasty’ in big block letters. “Amara.” He made a face. “They thought I needed to expand my horizons.”

“And your ass, apparently.”

“Oh, that was just Silas.” Lev smiled, dragging his fingers across the lettering. “We only dated for a few months, but... he made me happy.”

Nik yanked the shorts from Lev’s hands. “I already know the way to your heart is through your ass, Levant.”

Lev snorted. “He was kind to me.” He snagged a crop top, before dropping it.

“Clearly.”

Lev shook his head. “I don’t even know if half of this still fits.”

Nik’s smile was slow; Lev almost missed it. “I mean, we can easily find out.”

A flush crept further down his cheeks. “You just want to get me undressed,” he accused, but he smiled back. “Do we even have time for that?”

“I would never and we have all the time in the world.”

Lev leaned close, kissing Nik chastely. “Bull crap,” he mumbled.

Nik snorted. “You cuss like an eleven year old.”

“As is my right,” Lev said. “I’ll cuss how I want.” He tucked his face in Nik’s neck, breathing deep.

“I know what you’re doing and it’s only going to work if one of us is getting undressed.”

Lev laughed abruptly. “I don't know if you’ll fit into any of these.” He pulled back, sliding a hand under Nik’s shirt. “I was never, and will never look like this.” And he didn’t mind that, really.

Nik slid Lev’s hand down, until Lev’s fingers were inching under Nik’s waistband. “Then I guess the only solution is you getting undressed, hmm?”

Lev flushed deeper. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I? Am I though?”

“Ridiculous,” Lev insisted, leaning close for another kiss, letting his hand slide further. “And single minded.” He pulled away abruptly. “So what do you want to see me in. All of it is not an option.”

Nik kept a tight enough grip on Lev’s hand Lev couldn’t pull away completely. Not that Lev minded his hand down Nik’s pants. “But I wanna see alll of it,” Nik whined.

Lev shook his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he repeated, and then booped Nik’s forehead with his own. “What do you want to see me in first then?”

“First? Naked.”

Lev snorted. “I was right, just an excuse to get me undressed.” He pulled his hand free, and started unzipping his jacket. “It’s cold, Nik,” he whined as he shrugged it off.

“Don’t worry. I’ll warm you up.”

Lev gave him a look, but finished pulling off his clothes. “Are you going to pick something?”

The onceover Nik gave Lev was full of pure indulgence, enough so that Lev knew his blush wasn’t going away any time soon. He folded his arms over his chest while Nik poked through the drawer, taking his sweet time.

Lev took the scrap of lace Nik handed him, making a face. He remembered these. These were why he’d sworn off lingerie in general. He’d felt so... weird wearing them, and they’d nearly slid right off anyway. Though, as Silas had proven, half the fun was taking it off. “Do I have to?” Lev asked without thinking.

Nik’s smile vanished. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Lev blinked. “I-” He looked down at the lingerie, and then back at Nik. “It’s more that I feel stupid in most of this stuff. I’m not... sexy, you know?” His mouth twitched up, but even he felt like it wasn’t real. “I know you won't laugh, but- well, my anxieties don't always need to be based in reality.”

“First- you’re wrong. Second, I get anxiety. You just. Got to not listen.”

Lev laughed softly. “Easier said than done.” He tilted his head to the side. “Do you want me to try it on?” He paused. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Do you want to try it on?”

Lev ran his thumb over the lace. “Ideally I want... to not be so...” He looked up at Nik. “I wish I had the confidence to wear things like this. Like the things you wear. Does that count as wanting?”

Nik looked down at his clothes. He brushed his fingers over his stomach. “You can’t get the confidence without practice.” He leaned in. “Fake it until you make it.”

Lev let out a small breath. Nik had a point. It was just harder than he made it out to sound. He considered Nik’s words over again, and then slipped the lingerie on without another word. To his surprise, they settled much better than they had all those years ago. At least in the way that they didn’t slide right down his hips again.

When he was able to lift his gaze to Nik’s, Nik was all but eyefucking Lev. “I don’t know why you were so nervous. You look hot.”

Lev made a face. “I’m too thin,” he said automatically.

Nik didn’t seem bothered. “You’re eating.”

That was... true. He wiggled a little. He leaned close, wrapping his arms around Nik’s neck. “You are too nice to me,” he said.

Nik kissed Lev’s nose. “It’s because you give great head.”

Lev snorted. “Stars forbid we have a serious moment longer than five seconds.” He paused. “But I do give great head.”

Nik’s smile was extremely satisfied. “Why Lev, that almost sounds like confidence.”

Lev considered that. “I mean, it’s well documented.”

Nik snorted and pulled him in for a kiss. Lev was very aware of Nik’s hand on his ass. Lev tilted his head up, opening his mouth for Nik. He pulled back after a second, blinking at Nik.

“Was there anything else you want me to try on?”

“Ooh, yes. Starting with these.” Nik turned around and then handed Lev the pair of booty shorts Amara had gotten him.

Lev shook his head, but slipped them on. “I’m assuming there’s more to this outfit.”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

Lev laughed softly, and kissed Nik again. “Is there any point if you’re just gonna take it off me? I know you are.”

“Hmm,” was all Nik said. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Lev’s jaw, to the hollow of his throat. Lev held still, closing his eyes as Nik’s kisses worked their way down, following Lev’s sternum. He fluttered his eyes open when Nik pressed one last kiss, this one right on Lev’s stomach. Nik’s talented fingers had hooked onto the waistband of shorts and underwear alike, and his grin told Lev just how many ideas he had.

“Told you,” Lev managed was Nik pulled them down and continued his trail of kisses further.

---

Cameron wasn’t quite sure why he was in Liwen other than being bored and not having either Lev or Nik in the house to satisfy him. He pulled into the drive of his brother’s manor house and went to knock on the large door. He slipped his hands in his pockets and waited a bit before the door finally opened. Nate was midlaugh, but it disappeared when he locked eyes with Cameron. “What do you want.”

“What? I’m not allowed to come see my pregnant brother? Just to visit?”

Nate’s eyes narrowed. “Not really.”

“I am hurt,” Cameron said. “So hurt. Still want to see him.”

Nate’s lips thinned. “Why?”

“Because he’s my brother, Nathaniel. Don’t you idiot angels have some kind of importance for bloodlines? I know demons do.” Theoretically. “I thought you’d want me to bond with the hybrid.”

“He has a name,” Nate snipped. But he hesitated, and didn’t just shut the door in Cameron’s face. “He’s in the baby’s room. Ten minutes.”

Ten minutes.

Cameron didn’t bother responding and pushed his way past Nate and into the manor house. Silas was behind Nate, hidden by the door, like the lost puppy he was. Cameron flicked him a cool look. “Can I help you?”

Silas opened and closed his mouth before muttering, “Doubtful.” After a moment of hesitation, he asked, “How’s Lev doing?”

Cameron smiled at him, but just kept walking, not bothering answering him. Behind him, he heard Nate tell Silas, “Why did you give him the bait like that?”

“Cus I’m an idiot, that’s why.”

Nate snorted. “Apparently. You and Baylor have more in common than you realize.”

Cameron could imagine the look of approval on Silas’ face at the comparison. It was almost as pathetic as it was annoying to imagine. He ignored the sentries looks of disapproval at Cameron being there as he went up the stairs to the nursery.

The nearest sentry frowned at him. Cameron rolled his eyes to her. “If I wanted any of them dead, they would be. Just stop embarrassing yourselves.”

Her nostrils flared but she didn’t respond to his jab. Just turned her eyes forward again. Cameron’s mouth tugged and he pushed open the door to see Bay curled up on the couch with his feet tucked under him. But he startled awake the moment Cameron walked into the room. Bay went from fight mode to relaxation back to fight in the span of three seconds. “Who’s dead?”

“No one. Yet,” Cameron said. “Am I not allowed to come see my baby brother?”

Bay’s eyes narrowed. “Not really. Social calls are not part of our relationship.”

“I’m touched that you consider this a relationship.”

“Not by choice, I don’t,” Bay grumbled, scrubbing his face. “I was taking a nappp.”

“Not anymore you’re not,” Cameron said, sitting in the rocking chair across from him. “So…. it’s.. A boy?” he asked, looking around the room. There wasn’t any blue, but there was soft yellows and greens. There was a mural stretching across the wall behind the crib, clearly painted with care.

Bay gave him a slightly bewildered look. “I- guess? Do you actually care?”

“Are you insinuating I don’t?”

“That is exactly what I’m doing,” Bay said, flatly.

“I’m hurt,” Cameron said, leaning back. “I cannot believe you would think something like that of me.”

“Am I wrong?” Bay demanded, resting his hand on his stomach.

“No,” Cameron said. “But still. Maybe I just want to get to know my apparent nephew. There aren’t that many hybrids in the world, Bay. It’s fascinating.”

“I do believe that is because demons and angels killed them all,” Bay said, coldly enough, both Nate and Silas winced from the doorway. “That tends to thin out the population, don’t you think.”

“I guess,” Cameron said, unbothered by his brother’s icy glare. “That’s usually how genocides work.”

Bay closed his eyes and leaned back into the couch as he sighed. “Usually,” he said, resigned.

“We’re naming him Lucas,” Nate offered, reluctantly, as he sat down next to his mate. Clearly Nate was trying to lighten the mood. Bay instantly slipped his feet onto Nate’s lap. “The healers say he’s healthy.” Cameron could almost hear the and he will stay healthy in Nate’s easy going tone.

Silas fidgeted at the doorway, arms folded and tapping his biceps. Cameron could tell he was annoyed that Cameron was there, just like Bay and Nate both were. But there was an added bonus because now apparently Cameron is fucking Silas’ ex. He debated on saying something, but instead just looked around the room again. “Are angels this soft? Why do you have so many stuffed animals for a newborn. It’s not like they can play with them.”

Bay blinked blankly at him. “Babies like toys? You idiot?”

“Babies, sure. Newborns are just sagging skin that sleep, cry and shit all the time. Not much playing involved, I’d imagine.” The mess they made just made them all that much more unappealing.

“Have you ever actually seen an infant in your life,” Nate asked. “Or are you this dense for the irony of it.”

Cameron shrugged lightly. “They don’t like me and I don’t like them. It’s mutual.”

Bay snorted. “And you live with Lev. I highly doubt he carries the same sentiment.”

“That sounds like a Lev Problem. I don’t care.”

Nate looked amused while he massaged the bottom of Bay’s foot with his thumb. “It’ll be a You Problem soon enough, Cameron. And I look forward to that day.”

“Hmph.” Cameron crossed his legs. “Doubtful.” Nate’s smile was irritating enough Cameron considered ripping it off. “If he wants one so bad he can go babysit at the nursery or something. Or come see you.”

Bay drummed his fingers on his stomach. “No one is touching my baby,” Bay said, mostly to himself. Nate’s smile at Bay was nauseating. Bay frowned at him. “What?” When Nate opened his mouth, Bay warned, “If you call me adorable, I will kneecap you.”

Nate pouted and leaned back into the couch. “Fine,” he mumbled. “But it’s still true.”

Bay rolled his eyes and leaned over to quickly kiss him on the lips. “It’s not. Stop it. You’re just saying that because I’m like five feet tall.”

“Or because you just are,” Nate said, kissing his forehead. Bay’s face flushed a bright gold and Nate smiled victoriously. “See?”

Bay’s eyes narrowed. “I hate you.”

“Do not.”

“Do too,” Bay countered.

“You are completely and hopelessly in love with me because I’m amazing and you’re too adorable not to.” Silas snorted when Bay looked at Nate with a mix of defeat and irritability. “Love you,” Nate said, in a teasing voice.

Bay jabbed Nate in the side hard enough Nate winced. “As you should,” Bay said, sharply. “I am pregnant because of you.”

“You both are disgusting,” Cameron said. “You deserve each other.”

Bay flicked Cameron a look. “Oh, I forgot you were still here,” Bay said. Bay settled back into the bed and said to Silas, “Give me that blanket.” He paused before adding, “Please.” Silas instantly jumped to obey and grabbed the large yellow throw blanket folded on the crib edge.

“Can’t handle a little cold?” Cameron asked.

“I’m always cold,” Bay snapped, taking the blanket from Silas. “And I like to be warm. Sue me.”

“It’s why I always run out of hoodies,” Nate informed Cameron. “He steals them.”

Bay kicked Nate. “Shush. Mine don’t fit.” Bay blinked hard and pulled the blanket up over his head and around himself. Clearly Bay was on the verge of tears over this pathetic predicament. “None of my clothes fit anymore.” Cameron arched a brow at the slight quiver in Bay’s voice.

“You look like a pregnant bee,” Cameron observed.

“Fuck you,” Bay sniffled. “It’s not my fault I’m fat, okay. And yellow is a horrible color on me.”

“I can get you a different blanket,” Silas offered.

“I think you look very handsome in yellow,” Nate said, loyally. “It’s a very nice color.”

“It’s a very ugly color,” Bay said, cutting Nate an irritated look. “Especially when everything is yellow. My hair, my face. Stars, it never goes away.” Bay pulled the blanket more over his head and turned into the couch when Cameron said, “Then why the hell did you make this room yellow too.”

“It’s Nate’s fault,” Bay grumbled. “And yes, get me a different blanket.”

Silas hopped too instantly, disappearing from the room to go find him another blanket. Cameron said, “You’re acting pathetic.”

“I am seven and a half months pregnant,” Bay said, voice breaking. “You’d be this pathetic too if you were growing a parasite. Ugh.” He stopped talking before, “Lucas isn’t a parasite but pregnancies are awful and no I will not elaborate.”

“You don’t need to. It’s not like I can get pregnant,” Cameron said dryly. “Alpha.”

“Rub it in,” Bay grumbled.

Silas came back with two blankets, one black and one dark green. “Here, I didn’t know which one you’d want.”

Bay yanked his blanket off his head and looked at the options. Cameron rose a brow at the golden nose and puffy eyes, but didn’t feel like needling him this time. It was a little too pathetic to try. He didn’t want the water works anymore than Bay did. Bay sniffled and yanked the green blanket out of Silas’ hands and threw the yellow one at him before curling up with his new blanket. “Green is so much better,” he mumbled. “Whoever invented yellow is an idiot.”

---------

Nik had finished packing up the boxes into the trunk when he squinted at the sky. “Well, this took longer than I thought it would.”

“I’m-” Lev cut himself off quick enough, Nik looked at him. “I didn’t mean for it to be.”

“It’s fine,” Nik said, going to climb in the front seat. “At least we got everything we needed to.” He didn’t know how Lev managed to stay in that cramped house for so long, but at least they didn’t have to go back.

Lev asked, “Am I taking too much?”

Nik blinked at him. “What made you think that? Have you not seen Cameron’s house?”

“I wasn’t sure if it was polite to drag half my house here,” Lev said, strapping in. Nik could feel the anxiety coming off him. “Even if there is room.”

“Okay, first of all,” Nik said, pulling off from the curb. “It’s Cameron. And me. Do you really think either of us care about what is or isn't polite? We straight up kill people for a living and if that isn’t rude, then I don’t know what is.”

Nik barely heard Lev say under his breath, “Fair point.”

“My points are always fair. If Cameron has a problem with your shit he’d probably just keep it out of his line of vision; the snob. It’ll be fiiine. Trust me.”

Lev didn’t look fully convinced and but dropped it anyway. Nik forced the frown off his face and turned on the music. Cam wouldn’t let him play his music when he was in the car, so Nik was going to take this chance to avoid awkwardness.

After a bit, Lev straightened when they passed a burger joint. “I’m hungry. Can we eat?”

Nik leveled him a quick look while he pulled into the parking lot. “Are you Lev? Do you register what words just came out of your mouth?”

“We don’t have to eat,” Lev said, automatically, his face flushed a bright gold. “I’m just hungry, Nik. I was hungry at breakfast, too. I think my body’s finally catching on is all.”

Nik snorted. “You mean your body is finally acting like it’s supposed to? What a turn of events. Come on, let’s make sure you don’t waste away.”

They made it inside in time for dinner rush. There was a line almost to the door. Nik sighed. “This is very unsexy,” he muttered. But at least the restaurant was large enough he didn’t have the urge to walk out. “The things I do for love.”

Lev stared at him wide-eyed long enough Nik rolled his eyes towards him. “Figure of speech, Levant. Don’t get your halo in a twist.”

He could tell Lev was trying to not look disappointed. “Oh,” he said, in a quiet voice. “Right.”

Oof. Nik should have realized Lev was already like… that. He winced. “Right,” he echoed. Nik cleared his throat. “What, um. Do you want to eat?”

So much for avoiding awkwardness.

“A double cheeseburger, no cheese, no mustard, no pickles… nothing but ketchup. And the meat? And the bun.” He paused before hesitantly asking, “And a large milkshake and large fry?”

“Do you like, have any taste buds whatsoever?” Nik asked, smiling as he approached the counter. Lev grumbled when he gave the girl Lev’s order and ordered his own with extra toppings, including his own milkshake and curly fries. He paid her and pulled Lev over to an empty table. “So… Cam doesn’t… know, does he? Did you tell him? Like, to his face?”

Lev blinked at him. “Know what?”

Nik sighed loudly and leaned back. “That you’re in love with him. Cam and Love aren’t on speaking terms so he’d… be skittish.”

Cameron and skittish didn’t belong in the same sentence. He’d probably get reamed for suggesting it, but it wasn’t like he was wrong. Just that. Well. It was true. Cameron had his own fucked up past with the L Word and he hadn’t really told Cam, himself.

Lev flushed deeply and just shook his head. “I... wasn't going to say anything at all. I… I know I fall fast and I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.” He paused. “I didn’t want to hear you… or him… say you didn’t feel the same way. Easier to just keep it to myself, where it can’t hurt me, and can’t ruin anything.”

Nik scratched his face. “Well. Feelings… can’t be helped.” Unless you were Cameron, anyways. “And it’s always messy and complicated. And fuck, I don’t know. Just- don’t hold your breath hoping to hear it back from Cam.”

Lev shrugged. “I wasn’t going to bring it up. I figured it’s too soon. Not just for Cameron. I won’t mention it again.”

Nik combed his fingers through his hair, trying to not fidget as he leaned forward. “You don’t. Have to censor yourself,” Nik said, “At least with me. But. Cam’s… yeah. Probably just for the best that you don’t tell him. At least for a while.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Cameron already knew, at least on some instinctive level. Cameron just. Was very good about compartmentalization, it would seem. Nik was just a clueless idiot.

Lev gave him a quiet and thoughtful, “Okay.”

Nik hummed. “Okay.”

Their food was brought to them and Nik arched a brow as Lev instantly started in. After a handful of bites bulldozing into his food, Lev flicked him a look. “I’m hungry,” Lev said, pitifully enough, Nik laughed at him.

When Lev pouted, Nik mused, “Stars, you’re acting like we let you starve. Cameron is going to force food down your throat when he finds out.”

Lev looked guiltily down at his food. “You two feed me enough, I’m just… getting hungrier.”

Nik felt himself go cold all over. He chewed on his bracelet, wondering if Lev could be pregnant, but instantly shut the thought down. Angels were notorious for having difficulty concieving. And Lev had been with them, for what, two and a half months? That was just ridiculous.

During his internal debate, Lev had started rambling. “I think I read somewhere when you don’t eat your body thinks it’s starving and goes into overtime when you eat again, and I just.. Wonder if that’s what’s going on. I could be wrong. But, it’d explain it. Just means my body’s gonna try to store up while I’ve got plenty of food. I think.” Lev added, “Maybe I should be pacing myself a bit?”

Nik forced words into his mouth. “Just a bit, Princess. Don’t make yourself sick. Cam would kill me if you ruined his car.” Lev nodded gravely and slowed his roll. “At least be able to taste your food.”

“I can taste my food,” Lev said, between bites.

“Could have fooled me,” Nik said, taking a bite from his own burger. “You were practically inhaling that thing you call a hamburger.”

Lev swallowed and then stuck his tongue out at Nik. Nik smiled a bit and took another bite. “What? You are insulting my very taste in food. How do you eat with just ketchup. How.”

“I just like the taste of ketchup, Nik.”

“And nothing else?” Nik asked. “Is this a white person thing? Because I swear Cameron is the same way. At least Amara has taste buds- even though she can’t cook,” he added, a bit crossly.

Lev choked on his burger hard enough his face was starting to flush. Nik went over and patted his back hard enough to stop himself from killing himself with a sandwich. “Choking is not meant for food, Levant.”

Lev wheezed. “I’ll be back. I need to. Go get cleaned up.”

Nik plopped back down in his chair. “Go nuts.”

---------

Lev ducked in the bathroom, coughing a little still. He thumped his chest lightly, grimacing. It wasn’t Nik’s fault he was such a mess. Lev should have known better than to eat so fast when he knew the wildest shit came out of Nik’s mouth.

After splashing his face with water, Lev grabbed a handful of paper towels and patted himself down. It was as he dried off that he heard the door open. A shiver went up his spine, and he twisted, jerking away and forward at the same time. Too far forward; his cheek slammed into one of the sinks, and Vehuel’s hand closed around Lev’s arm, yanking him upright again.

Lev found himself slammed back against a wall hard enough he saw stars. This was- this was wrong. Remiel was the one who used force. Lev stared up at Vehuel, confused and cowed.

“The fucking nerve,” Vehuel hissed. His fingers dug into Lev’s skin. For once Lev had merely tied his hoodie around his waist, and he was regretting that immensely. “Still fucking that demon? I suppose I should have known better, but here I thought even you had standards. Unless you asked him to kill your alpha. Find someone else to spread your legs for, Levant? How long is he going to stay interested in you? A pathetic excuse for an omega. Does he get off on your tears? Because you’re not that impressive in bed. I can't think of another reason.”

“Let me go,” Lev whispered, and just got a hard shake for his troubles.

Vehuel’s nails dug deeper. “Who’s going to save you when he decides you’re not worth it? Having him kill Remiel is the mistake that will cost you your life, because I’m not going to lift a fucking finger for a piece of trash like you.”

Lev didn’t know what to say to pacify Vehuel, and he didn’t really get a chance to figure it out. Someone yanked the alpha back. It took Lev a second to realize it was Nik. Nik slammed Vehuel’s face into the mirror.

“If anyone is trash in this room, it's the idiot who didn't realize Lev didn't come here alone,” Nik hissed. Vehuel thrashed, but Nik held him in place with a hand firmly on the back of the alpha’s neck. “You okay, Lev?” he asked without even glancing in Lev’s direction.

Lev didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t bleeding. That meant he was okay. Right? He wasn’t even shaking. Just staring at Nik, frozen. But he didn’t feel okay. “I’m fine,” he finally forced out, stiffly.

“You wouldn't be by chance lying to me would you?”

Lev blinked slowly. Before he could figure out a response, Vehuel gave a strained laugh against the mirror. “Oh, but Levant never lies. Isn’t that right?”

Lev flinched. Nik reacted at the same time, slamming his face again, hard enough to crack the glass this time. “Do not speak unless spoken to.”

“I don’t know,” Lev finally said, voice faint. “I don’t- I don’t know. I’m not-” He hesitantly touched the bruises forming on his arm, his cheek. “I’m not bleeding? I’m not-” he fell silent, staring at Vehuel now.

Nik glanced back at him, over his shoulder, his face falling and tightening at the same time. “Do you want to go home?”

Home. Lev nodded slowly. “Please,” he said quietly.

“Take my keys out of my pocket, go get into the car and lock the doors. I'll be out in a moment,” Nik ordered.

Lev obeyed automatically, not even thinking about it. It was only once he was in the car, curled up in the passenger seat, that it occurred to him that they hadn’t even finished dinner. Somehow that was what made him start to sob, softly, so he wouldn’t bother anyone who might pass the car. He kept the keys clutched tight in his fist as he buried his face in his arms to try to stifle the sounds further.

A knock on the window a good while later drew Lev’s attention. Nik was standing outside the car. Lev fumbled around until he managed to unlock the car. Nik got in the driver’s seat, and took the keys when Lev held them out.

“Everything he said was wrong,” Nik said.

Lev wiped his cheeks. “He said Cameron killed Remi,” Lev said quietly. “Was that wrong?” Please say it is.

Nik’s jaw tightened. He flicked a glance at Lev, before, “No.”

Lev nodded. “Okay.” He rested his cheek on the window. “I wanna go home.”

“We’ll be there in a bit. Get you some ice for those bruises.”

“Okay,” was all Lev said as he closed his eyes. He didn’t say another word the rest of the ride home.

-----

Cameron had finished what Nik started with the angel and went straight home. The lights were on and he bypassed the sentries and found Lev and Nik in the kitchen. He felt a sharp nerve rake down his spine at the mess on his counters. Whatever Nik was cooking for Lev, he had not yet cleaned up his mess. He forced the words to die in his throat and turned his attention to Lev.

The angel was eating too mechanically for his taste, a blank look on his face. It was devoid of any emotion, including the anxiety that seemed to haunt him. Cameron took his jaw and made Lev face him. He took note of the bruising across his face, and the dark finger prints on his arm. Cameron growled low in his throat. “Did he do anything else to you?” he asked, letting him go.

Cameron was not impressed with the stillness Lev seemed to slide into. He looked at Nik who just shook his head slightly before looking back. Lev just numbly said, “He shoved me into the wall. I hit my head.”

“Do you want Sazra to look at it?” he asked.

“No, thank you.” Lev gave a slow pause, before lowering his gaze. “Unless you think I need it.”

“I think I should have broken his fingers,” Cameron said, brushing his own down the back of Lev’s head, taking note of the knot formed. “I’ll get her, if you want. Otherwise I’ll let it go.”

“Let it go. Please? I don’t want to waste her time. I’ll heal on my own soon enough,” Lev said.

“Okay,” Cameron said, almost automatically. He forced his attention to Nik. “Clean up this mess. Now.”

Nik instantly started as told, when Lev quietly asked, “Why did you kill Remi?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Cameron said, leaning against the counter with his hands in his pockets. “I do not tolerate my things being touched.”

Lev slowly looked over at him, the blank mask cracking just enough to show the mix of emotions Cameron could only describe as grief and fear and confusion. Lost. It all eventually melted into clarity and exhaustion. He nodded a little.

Cameron assumed Lev thought Cameron’s answer was an alpha instinct. And part of it had been, perhaps. It was mostly that Remiel deserved it and he didn’t want Lev’s misplaced tears over the whole situation. He’d let Lev believe it as an alpha protecting its territory.

Lev went back to quietly eating. Cameron frowned at the trembling raking through Lev’s body. He could smell the other angel on Lev, which means Lev probably could as well. Cameron unbuttoned his shirt and told Lev to take his off and to put Cameron’s on. It’d help with the scent.

After a bit, Cameron asked him if he wanted fucked. Was the best way to wash someone else’s scent from him.

Lev gave him a small nod. “I can’t do… rough. Not tonight,” Lev said. “Too close to… to him.”

Cameron nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do. After dinner.”

Lev gave him a quiet ‘okay’ before flicking him a grateful look. Cameron thrummed his fingers on the stone counter. “Finish eating.”

Lev finished what was left of his dinner before quietly helping Nik finish cleaning up. Cameron was double checking their work when Lev asked, “Can I take a shower first?”

“Yes,” Cameron said, going to turn the lights out. “Do whatever you need to.”

-------

Lev was curled up on the bottom of Cameron’s shower, scrubbing repeatedly where Vehuel had touched him. Automatically he’d gone down a list. He’d washed his hair, scrubbed every inch of himself thoroughly and hurriedly, left the bathroom door open, because that’s how Rem-

And yet somehow he’d still ended up on the floor, the water almost scalding, rubbing repeatedly at his arm with a washcloth, and probably not doing the bruises there any favors. He was surprised when Cameron appeared. How long had he been sitting here? Cameron crouched in front of him, still fully clothed, gently but firmly pulling Lev’s hand away from his arm.

“You need to get out.”

Lev stared at him. “You’re wet,” he finally said. He blinked hard, before rubbing his face and standing. “Sorry. I- I’m fine. I just lost track of time.”

“If you were fine I’d actually be more worried,” Cameron said bluntly.

Lev leaned around him to shut off the water, before looking up at Cameron tiredly. “I’ve had worse. I just need to pull myself back together. That... that was nothing. Just... unexpected. He caught me off guard.”

“We've all had worse. Doesn't erase the fact you were just assaulted by your ex.”

Lev puffed out a laugh that didn’t feel real. “I didn’t even date him that long,” he said, mostly to himself. He ran his hands through his hair, before immediately ruffling it back to a mess. That didn’t seem to be the right thing to say, because Cameron looked displeased, but Lev just stepped out of the shower, Cameron on his heels.

After looking around helplessly for a few seconds, Lev grabbed the nearest towel and started rubbing himself down roughly. When Lev peeked out from under the towel, Cameron was getting dressed and putting his soaked clothes in the dirty clothes hamper. Fair enough. Lev went back to drying off aggressively, as if that could scrape away the ghost of Vehuel’s touch.

Remi’s touch.

Cameron took the towel from him. It took a second before Lev registered why, and then he gave Cameron a sheepish look as Cameron took over drying him off. When Cameron was done, Lev leaned close, pressing his face in the crook of Cameron’s neck. He breathed deep, holding still until some of the tension in his chest eased up, and then he pulled away. No words seemed to come, so Lev just rested his hand on Cameron’s chest for a heartbeat before he padded back to the bedroom.

Nik was already undressed and on the bed, so Lev wasted no time crawling to his side. He debated curling into him, but in the end half sprawled across Nik’s chest, and kissed him softly. Beside him, he could feel the bed dip as Cameron joined them. Nik was kissing Lev back, even as he shifted Lev until Lev was settled fully on top of him, straddling Nik, sort of. Cameron’s hands slid up Lev’s back, sending shivers through Lev’s fame.

Lev pulled back, staring down at Nik, and then snorted helplessly. Pretty quickly he was giggling, face buried in Nik’s neck. He could feel Nik’s responding laugh from where he was pressed against Nik.

“What’s so funny?”

“All of a sudden all I could think was that I’d spent most of the afternoon planning on putting that stupid lacey stuff we found when we got home, and suprising Cameron, and-” Lev shook his head, and gave a helpless laugh. “I don’t even know why that’s so funny to me. Maybe because for just a second I was annoyed I’d forgotten.”

“Mmm, you can wear it tomorrow.” Cameron pressed a kiss to Lev’s spine, making Lev’s breath catch.

“Won’t be much of a surprise now,” Lev said, not really complaining. He twisted his head, pressing a kiss to Nik’s jawline.

“I’ll act surprised,” was all Cameron said, pressing another kiss further up.

Somehow that was funny too. Lev stifled his giggles as best he could, and went after Nik’s mouth again. Maybe the now familiar press of Cameron and Nik’s hands against him would finish chasing away the ghosts of touches Lev didn’t want to remember. And, if nothing else, it was just good to be able to laugh during sex again.

@idreamonpaper @livvywrites @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @halstudies @firesidefantasy

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #hell to pay #cameron and nik and lev #ch: Cameron #ch: nik #lev #my writing #angels and demons #a/b/o verse #original writing

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elegantmoonchild · 6 years ago

Note

Can I request a oneshot where V stays over at SP trailer and he has a nightmare and can’t sleep and V calms him down and it’s just really fluffy

Hey there! First off, I am so so so so so sorry it took me this long to complete this prompt. I didn’t make it super fluffy, but I really hope you like what I came up with! Enjoy :)

A crash. A bang. The scream of thunder and the sharp sheen of rain as it poured around the trailer in Sunnyside Park like molten metal that hardened just as it hit the tin roof. All of it, the fearsome sound of the storm outside mixed with the eerie silence of the bedroom, became a contrasting crescendo that knocked Sweet Pea out of his nightmare and back into reality.

He reached out in reaction, feeling himself fall while laying completely still in his queen-size bed, the thin sheet of cotton brushing against his feverish hands like cool liquid, somewhat damp from the sweat still dripping from his temple. Beside him, his knuckle grazed the warmth of another’s bare skin, and in an instant it all came rushing back to him – Veronica had stayed the night and he wasn’t all alone.

The relief crashed over him in a warm wave as he slowed the inhale-exhale pattern of hyperventilation, his fingers returning to the soft, velvet thigh curled just above his left knee. He needed to touch her, needed a totem to keep him grounded, a reminder that he wasn’t back in that dark and gritty alley but instead in the comfort of his home, surrounded by his lover who slept soundlessly beside him.

Her black hair was nestled neat beside her cheek, tucked just under her chin as a few stray strands blew softly back and forth with each breath she released. Her long downy lashes, lighter without the aid of make-up, flickered with the reflex of sleep, though still clinging close to her lids, the skin there appearing baby soft and nearly untouched. She looked so peaceful, curled up beside him with her legs tangled up in his, so strong in the person he knew her to be and yet so fragile in the woman she looked while lost in slumber. He felt his love for her pour into his heart, melting the ice that had formed there from the nightmare, relishing in the feeling of its slow and steady beat.

He longed to reach out and stroke the soft apple of her cheek. He didn’t want to disturb her, knowing the skin of his knuckles was rougher than desired, but the urge to feel her warmth emanating from such a small, concentrated part of her body, won out. He brushed against the velvet there, feeling the thin whiskers of her face emerging from her pores, their feminine fleece caressing his hardened skin like a whisper. Her breath caught, a brisk inhale followed by a slow exhale as her eyes opened slowly and softly, an angelic awakening if he ever saw one.

“Mm, ssswrong, babe?” she mumbled as she fought back a yawn, her lips curling upward into a smile as she met his eyes with her own. “Can’t sleep?”

“Can’t sleep,” he replied tenderly, hoping she couldn’t read the pained, haunted expression that had been painted over his features during his fitful slumber.

He wanted to spare her the fear, spare her the worry that would inevitably come if he told her what he had envisioned, the gruesome sight that had surrounded him as he watched, one by one, as the men he fought with, worked with, broke bread with in their Serpent den fell at the hands of another pack of rabid wolves, the merciless Ghoulies who had come seeking vengeance in the alleyway behind the Whyte Wyrm.

“Is it raining outside?” she asked, her brows furrowed as she attempted to sit up, her palm pressing into the damp sheets as she peered through the dark toward the single bedroom window. As she felt the moist cotton beneath her, her eyes darted south, breezing over the material with her glance before she looked back up at Sweet Pea, the worry he tried to avoid evident in her eyes.

“Are you okay?” She reached out with a concerned hand, brushing her fingertips against the dampened surface of his temples. “Your hair is soaked, Pea. Did you have a nightmare?”

He pulled away from her, the hair above his ears just out of reach of her fingers that itched to stroke and soothe. Always such the tough guy, he could practically hear her think, knowing she would be chiding him if she weren’t so worried.

“It’s nothing, Veronica,” he replied back, doing his best to fake a casual tone, knowing fully well she would see through his bullshit. Like she always does.

“It doesn’t look like nothing, Pea. You’ve soaked through the sheets with your sweat and your skin is ice cold. I’ve never seen you look so clammy. You give yourself away too easily, Sweet Pea. I know you.”

I know you do. The ultimate betrayal of a good relationship.

“It’s just a bad dream, babe. Bad dreams happen and then they go away.” He reached out to stroke her cheek, hoping the sweet endearment and affectionate gesture would throw her scent off the path she was sniffing, searching for any hint of deception.

And, of course, she found some.

“Stop lying to me, Pea,” she sighed exasperatedly, re-adjusting herself on the bed to sit up even further. She pushed at the pillow wedged between where her head had been beside his so she could face him better, the signs of sleep from before erased completely from her features. “I know when you’re bullshitting me. I don’t know why you keep trying.”

He lifted one shoulder in reply, a half-hearted shrug, knowing he’d been caught and not quite knowing what to say. It still unnerved him that she could read him so well, to find anybody in life who could read between the lines he so slyly created on the mask of the badass, no-shit-taking persona that he wore around in public like skin. That had been her appeal, though; the fact that she called him out on his bullshit had been what had set her apart from the other girls in Riverdale.

There really was nobody like Veronica, especially for him.

“So are you going to tell me about the nightmare or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Sweet Pea tried another angle, one he knew could make Veronica weak, and he tossed her a playful smirk.

“Just how do you suggest doing that, princess?”

In retaliation, pure warlike retaliation, she flicked her perfectly manicured fingers roughly over one of his nipples, watching as it perked up beneath his thin white cotton t-shirt.

“Shit, Veronica,” he chuckled as she bit her bottom lip and smiled.

“Don’t be such a baby,” she replied back teasingly, “and tell me what you were dreaming about. It’s not like you to be so guarded like this, not with me. Tell me what you saw and we can go back to sleep.”

“Or not sleep,” he murmured as he wriggled an eyebrow at her, but she was unfazed and he sighed in defeat. “Fine. But you have to promise me you won’t get all goo-goo about it. It was just a dream and I don’t want you worrying yourself over nothing.”

“No promises,” she replied matter-of-factly.

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes as he settled back onto the bed, crushing his pillow with the thick set of midnight black strands adorning his head. Veronica leaned in a little deeper over him, her watchful eyes searching for the answers but still he could see the patience there. He looked over toward the window, the glow of the midnight moon shining against the cheap white blinds that were partially closed. The reflection of the rain drops and streams echoed against the plastic, falling down, down, down like the bodies of the men he had watched die painfully in his sleep.

“I saw the Serpents go down in a fight with the Ghoulies. Malachi brought in some new clientele and they were stinking up the streets with the dirty coke they were dealing. In the dream, Jughead ordered a surveillance of their stakeout, but someone had ratted on us and we were ambushed behind the Wyrm. Fangs went down first, two shots to the head, and then Blackhawk. Next, Jughead caught a slug in the chest covering for Toni, who got hit in the crossfire trying to crawl away from the alley. FP was nowhere in sight, which was probably for the best. He would have gone total apeshit, totally uncontrollable if he saw Jughead bleed out like that. So much blood, so much damn blood.”

Sweet Pea could hear the change in his voice, feel the thickness grow as he fought to swallow the lump that was rising up in his throat.

“I looked for you, called out for you, because in the dream I knew you were coming to see me, then suddenly I felt this burning sensation in my chest. I looked down and there was a bullet hole, about the size of a quarter, cratering into my skin like someone had stuck a very large thumb into the muscle and pressed really hard. Parts of my shirt had been ripped from the blast and there was so much red staining the already black color of my shirt. Everything looked wet, wet from my blood, and it took all the strength I had left not to collapse completely to the ground. I crumbled to my knees slowly and slumped back, my head sliding down to meet concrete. I looked for you, turned my head to the side, but instead all I could see were Fangs’ eyes staring back at me with this haunting blank stare. I wanted to throw up, wanted to die, but I wanted to see you first, but you never came and I woke up just as I was beginning to close my eyes.”

A low rumble of thunder echoed in the distance as the rain continued to spill, a brief flash of lightning illuminating the room as Sweet Pea tried to tether himself to the present. He could feel Veronica peering down at him with that worried look he hated seeing on her face, could feel her pity, and for a moment he felt like a coward.

“None of that happened, Pea. Everybody is okay. And I’m here now.”

He looked over at her, his pained eyes finding solace in the warm brown of her stare, thankful the pity he felt wasn’t actually evident on her face. He smiled, ever so slightly, as he watched her bring a hand to his cheek, the soft texture of her knuckles grazing against his cheek and jawbone, and he leaned into the gesture, warmed by the comforting feeling of her affection and presence.

He could see she wanted to say more, wanted to persuade him everything was okay with peppered kisses and gentle promises to protect him – all things that would have made him feel the shame even greater – but instead she lowered herself down beside him, nestling her head in the crook of his chest and bicep. Her gentle hand rested comfortably on his chest, her arm slung over him in the only protective move that didn’t make him cringe with guilt.

He could see she wanted to say more, wanted to do more, but she knew him better than anybody else.

That embrace, that warm offering of company and solace and casual affection, was just what he needed to lull himself back into slumber. He could feel Veronica slip back into sleep as well, her soft and low breathing the last thing he heard as he drifted off into rest, the peace within him restored by the peace she gave simply being the woman he loved who loved the man he was.

#sweetvee #sweet pea x veronica lodge #one shots #prompts

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