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valyntynamaro · 4 years ago

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Homesick - Thomas Raggi

Requested by @fairyth0rns In which a homesick Thomas confides in you after a show. I changed up the premise a little but I love how it turned out!! LOTS of fluff and feelings! Hope you like it <3 this is basically Thomas Raggi stan acc at this point ahaha.

word count: 1,914

REQUESTS OPEN

-no warnings

Being on tour with your best friends wasn't always easy, there were small fights, drunken mistakes and harmful words that got said, but it was just the pressure they were all under, no one was ever mad at each other for long, it was just the lifestyle catching up to everyone.

No matter how hard things got out on the road you knew there would always be someone you could turn to for help and consolation, and things did get hard being away from your life back home. However, you knew that everyone gets that way and all you can do is support each other.

Loud cheers erupted from the audience as the show came to an end, you had been out on the road with Måneskin for a few weeks and as the tour was coming to the end you couldn't help but smile, thinking about how far they had come not only in the last few months but over the last few years that you had known them.

Every single milestone and achievement made you all the more proud of the four people before you on the stage which you called your family, that's what you had become a close-knit family and you couldn't imagine your life without them.

"Thank you, everybody, we have been Måneskin, goodnight!!" Damiano screams excitedly into the mic as the band begin to leave the stage, you clapped and cheered for them from in front of the stage, but in front of the crowd barrier. Snapping a few pictures of them as they held up their instruments and waved at the crowd, Vic stuck her tongue out at you and leaned into the camera as you took her picture.

After the show, you all made your way back to the hotel you were staying at for those few nights, there was an off day tomorrow so everyone decided that it would be fun to go down to the bar and have a couple of drinks.

Down at the bar, you all raised a glass to the great show they had put on and the successful tour also for good luck in the future. Music played loudly as you all danced together, laughing with one another at the terrible moves coming from each of you, everything was perfect and it was moments like that which made all the fights and upsets worth it.

Swaying your hips to the music you felt someone's arms slip around your waist, looking down you recognise the rings on their hand, It was Thomas and you instantly relaxed into him, moving softly to the music in time with him. Whilst you loved everybody in the band, you and Thomas had a special bond, you just understood each other a lot more deeply than the others.

"Are you okay my love?" turning around to face him in his arms, you met with a slight frown, you hated seeing him like that and would do anything to make him feel better.

"I guess, I just feel...I don't know I think I'm just tired" You could barely hear him over the loud music and the screaming from your friends as they fooled around, picking one another up and throwing them around.

You take Thomas' hand, leading him away from the dancefloor and out the backdoors to the beer garden outside. The atmosphere instantly softened and you could tell he was a bit more relaxed. "What's going on in your head sweet?" the two of you take a seat at one of the tables, he pulls a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket and lights it, he offers you one but you politely decline.

"I'm just so tired of being out here away from home, it's catching up to me now. I just want to wake up and not have to worry about how I'm going to do that night, the pressure is just getting to me y/n." He rests his head on your shoulder, your hands instinctively go to his shaggy blonde hair, he loved when you would play with his hair.

“ I know my lovely, everyone feels like that sometimes It's completely normal you just have to do your best and that's all anyone can expect from you, we'll be home before you know it" Placing a kiss to the top of his head he sighs, putting out his cig he takes your hand in his and plays with the many rings on your fingers. You never wore rings until you started touring with the band, they introduced you to them and would always buy you one as a thank you at the end of every tour- they were so special to you and you made sure to wear them every day for good luck.

"Y/N, I don't want to be at this place anymore, I can barely catch my breath" you knew what he was feeling was social anxiety, you had spent so many times with Thomas backstage just calming him down when he'd work himself up into a panic, it was never a bother to you though you just loved to make him feel comfortable and safe.

" We can go back to the hotel if you want, watch your favourite movie and cuddle?" you suggest, he doesn't say anything but just nods, "I'll just go tell the others, meet you out the front." Getting up, you place another kiss on his head before helping him up and making your way inside, for a minute you struggled to find anyone but you saw Vic by the bar being chatted up by some guy.

"Vic, me and Thomas are going back to his room, I'll see you in the morning" you hug her, Vic had always admired your relationship with Thomas, she knew that no one made him feel like you did, she would often tell you how cute it would be if the two of you were dating. Whilst you liked the idea of being with him, you knew that it was far important just being there for him you wouldn't want to risk everything and then not be able to be there when he needed you the most, so you were okay with just being friends.

“ Don't do anything I wouldn't do girl, have fun" she teased, causing you to roll your eyes everyone in the group would make jokes about how you and Thomas acted like you were already a couple but you paid no mind to it.

Meeting Thomas outside you walked hand in hand down the road, taking in all the sights the city had to offer whilst you made your way back to the hotel you were staying at.

Back in his room, you changed into a comfy shirt of his, whilst he only wore a pair of grey shorts. You couldn't help but think how good he looked in them, those shorts of his were a weakness of yours and he knew that which is why he always wore them around you.

Relaxing on the bed, you lay your head on his chest your arm draped over his lower torso, he had an amazing body and you would often catch yourself sneaking a look whilst the two of you changed together. "what do you want to watch then?" you asked, tracing circles around his 'Må' tattoo, you had been there with him, holding his hand as he got the tattoo done.

"you choose" his voice was soft, you could tell he was tired, so you just put on a film you had seen a bunch of times so you didn't have to pay attention to it, so he could just relax and fall asleep.

"You know, I don't want the tour to end" you could tell something was on his mind. "why's that?" leaning upon your elbows you turn to look him in the eyes, getting lost momentarily in them.

"Because you won't be there" a tear falls from his eyes and you quickly wipe it away, holding his face in your hands.

"aw sweetie, I'll always be there, even if I'm not with you every day, you can always call me" you kiss his cheek, comforting him, wiping away more tears.

" it's not the same, I just want to be with you all the time, you make me feel like nothing else on earth, when I'm with you nothing matters y/n, I don't know how you do it but I don't want it to ever stop" now it was your turn to cry, no one had ever made you feel so special or important in your life and it felt so good to hear those words leave his mouth.

"Oh Thomas, I don't ever want to be without you either, but you know I have a life back home, outside of the band. I'm only a short drive away, you can come to see me whenever you want and whenever you feel sad I'll be there as soon as you call" It broke your heart to see him so vulnerable, but you knew there was nothing you could do, you lived about ten minutes out of Rome, you couldn't afford the city.

"I feel so selfish, I just want you all to myself all of the time. I count down the days to the start of every tour because I know that I'll get to wake up and see you every day, that I get to spend all the time in the world with you, with nothing keeping you from me" He sits up, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"I know sweetheart, I know" Is all you could say, you were choking on your own words, it hurt so much that you couldn't be with him all the time.

"I don't even just mean with me physically, y/n you complete me, you make me a better man and I..." he pauses, wondering if he was really about to say what he was going to say.

"I love you y/n and I know you feel the same way about me, I've just always been too scared to do anything in case I scare you off because I can't bear to lose you" you pull away from the hug to look him in the eyes once more.

"Thomas, I've been in love with you since we first met you have no idea what it means to me to hear you say this" the two of you lean into each other, your lips inches away from his but before anything could happen the door bursts open, causing you to jump away from each other.

"Y/N Dami's been siiiickkkk" Ethan whines, stumbling into the room throwing Damiano down onto the bed beside you. Just like that, you had been snapped out of your cute moment with Thomas and back to the reality of the mother of the group.

"oh dear, let's get you cleaned up shall we?" you get up pulling Damiano up with him and take him to the bathroom, stopping at the door to look over at Thomas who just had the biggest grin on his face that you had ever seen. Even though you had been interrupted you knew that things had changed forever and that you'd have plenty of time to carry the moment on later, running a bath for your drunk friend you couldn't hep but smile too, everything was perfect in that moment and you wouldn't have it any other way.

#måneskin imagine #thomas raggi imagine #måneskin #thomas raggi #band imagines #imagines #valyntyneimagines #fluff #valyntyneraggi

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the-scarlet-witch-22 · 4 years ago

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Chaconne (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: You are an aspiring concert violinist who attends an audition for the Manhattan Symphony Orchestra, under the new direction of famous conductor Agatha Harkness

Word Count: 4.2K

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NBNquKkKcF4

A/N: Hello! This is an AU fic heavily inspired by one of my favorite tv shows Mozart In The Jungle. This is going to be at least 3 more chapters, and I already have the second part done so it should be uploaded by the weekend. Also, I added a link to the piece that is heavily mentioned throughout this fic. It’s not necessary to listen to it before reading (or at all haha), I just thought I’d add it in for anyone curious :) Hope y’all enjoy! Please let me know what you think, and my inbox is always open for any questions. Also: I do not own Mozart In The Jungle...Jeff Bezos please do not sue me.

You rushed through the bustling streets of Manhattan, silently cursing yourself for not getting a cab. Not that it would’ve made much of a difference; rush hour in the city was horrendous no matter what form of transportation you chose. But at least you would have been sitting in an air conditioned car and not running through the crowded streets. You tightened your grip on your violin case as you hurried across the street, destination clear in your mind.

You had been finishing up your final private lesson of the day when you received a call from one of your old college friends. They informed you to drop everything you were doing, not literally because that would include your very expensive and very fragile violin, and hurry down to symphony hall because one of the first violinists in the Manhattan Symphony had sprained her wrist and they were holding open auditions.

A part of you knew the odds of being selected from hundreds of the best violinists in one of the most affluent cities for music was slim to none, but you also knew you had to take this chance. It’s what you had been working so hard towards during undergrad and grad school, and it would be nice to have a more...stable job. The Manhattan Symphony Orchestra was one of the greatest and well respected orchestras in the world, and you would kill to earn a chair.

You ran faster than you had in months, and made a mental note to add more cardio to your basically nonexistent workout regime because wow, you were out of shape. Rounding the corner, you quickly dodged running into other pedestrians and could see symphony hall a block away. Despite the burning in your lungs begging you to stop running like a mad woman, you picked up the pace and sprinted to the building.

Ever since you started playing the violin you swore to anyone who would listen that you would play in the Manhattan Symphony Orchestra. Your siblings would always ask for concert tickets to see their favorite band, or sporting tickets, but you always begged your parents to take you to the symphony. While your siblings hated it and complained how long and boring it was (and the outrage that they weren’t allowed to bring food inside), you were enraptured by the entire experience.

You fell in love with the sounds of Dvorak, Beethoven, Brahms, and Tchaikovsky. Sitting in the concert hall you waited in anticipation to watch the musicians who had spent their entire lives preparing for that moment; to pour every ounce of their soul into their instruments. Ever since the moment you stepped inside your first concert hall at the young age of five, you knew this is where you wanted to spend the rest of your life.

Shaking those thoughts aside you hurried through the building to where the blind auditions were being held. You silently thanked whatever genius came up with the idea of a blind audition, because you were a mess after running over twelve blocks from your apartment. Following the signs on the walls, you found the warm up room, but was surprised to find everyone packing up.

There were over a dozen people of various ages, and you noticed one of them crying. A woman around your age noticed your disheveled appearance and sighed. “If you’re here for the blind auditions, they were cancelled.”

You felt your heart drop. “What? Did they already find someone?”

“No, because the new conductor is a total psycho,” Someone else said angrily. “She kept yelling about how we’re all wasting her time and she’d rather have her pet rabbit play New World Symphony.” He motioned to the girl who was sobbing. “And she told Megan her tone was so bad that she would personally throw her violin into a wood chipper so no one would have to suffer through her performing again.”

The new conductor he was referring to was one of your favorites. Agatha Harkness. She was beloved throughout the music community and had many fans, but you had heard rumors of her hard work ethic and ability to make people cry in under a minute. You thought back to your undergrad violin lessons where one of your professors told you that your tone while playing Mendelssohn sounded like a dying donkey. Musicians were often times very blunt.

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“A bit?” The guy rolled his eyes. “This job isn’t worth it. I’m going to audition for the second violin chair in Iowa. It might not be as great of an orchestra but at least their conductor isn’t the devil incarnate.”

As the others continued to pack up, you still felt your gut twisting at what could have been. Feeling rejected, you left the room and saw the back entrance to the stage open. From a quick glance around it appeared the hallway was deserted, so you quickly ran through the door, violin case still in hand.

Time came to a stand still as you walked on stage and stared into the seemingly empty concert hall. You dreamt about this moment more times than you cared to admit. There was something so peaceful about being on stage. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and pictured a scene you had spent years dreaming about. Realizing the opportunity to play in this hall wouldn’t likely come again, you made the split decision to open your violin case.

Staring at your violin, you briefly wondered if this was a good idea. But, you silently argued that no one else was around, and besides, you did run half a mile to get here. It would be a waste to not play and appreciate the gorgeous acoustics. Plus you could feel your fingers aching to play something, anything, to let out the feelings of disappointment from missing the auditions.

Gently pulling out your bow, you applied a generous amount of rosin before grabbing your violin. You took a few minutes to tune, and the moment your bow hit the strings you felt a shiver at how the sound bounced off the walls. You went through a condensed version of your normal warm up and played a few different scales before debating on what piece to play.

Although your friend had briefly explained the audition would be sight reading and then playing excerpts from Dvorak’s New World Symphony, the auditions were over and you wanted to play something else. It wasn’t the flashiest piece, or one of the better known violin concertos, but it felt right. Vitali’s Chaconne arranged by Charlier. You had originally learned the gorgeous piece during your junior year of undergrad for a concerto competition and it had quickly become a favorite.

Clearing your mind of everything but the music, you closed your eyes and began to play. Your bow swept across the string, producing the opening g-minor chord. The melodic sound rang through the empty hall and you felt your heart ache at how good this felt. It had been a while since you had the time to play this piece, but it was like it had been no time at all. Your fingers danced across the strings and you felt all the uneasiness leave your body.

While this wasn’t the most complex piece you had ever played, it required your full attention. The chaconne was structured as a simple sixteen bar phrase that was rephrased and dallied up with different techniques and melodies which made it easy enough to memorize, but hard enough that you needed to focus on the pattern your fingers made.

With every movement of your bow, every run you made up and down the fingerboard, you were letting out the pain and sadness you felt radiating through your body. It was hard to put into words how playing the violin made you feel, but the best explanation you had come up with was that it was your salvation. There was no sweeter medicine than performing. No matter how out of control life was, how bad things got, your solution was turning to music. It saved you.

As you neared the end of the piece, you felt your bow arm gently ache and you knew you had to have complete focus if you were going to hit the upcoming octave slides that led to the double stops of doom. Octaves were never a violinist’s favorite technique, and they were your own personal kryptonite. You had rather tiny hands, which made the stretch from your index to your pinky rather difficult on a good day. You changed the position of your hand to make the reach to hit the upper octave, but briefly winced when you realized you had fallen flat on the lower note.

You ended with a flourish of your bow on the final g-minor chord and let out the breath you had been holding in. You stood there for a moment, soaking in the afterglow of your performance and enjoying the quiet that radiated throughout the spacious room. Just as you went to clean off your violin and leave before you got kicked out, you heard the sound of slow clapping from within the hall. The hall was dimmed and you saw a figure sitting far up in the upper rows. The mystery figure continued clapping and they stood up and walked down the steps towards the stage. There in all her glory stood Agatha Harkness, the newest conductor of the Manhattan Symphony Orchestra.

“Not bad, but your octave slides could use some touching up,” Agatha offered as she stood at the bottom of the stage. “You tend to go flat on the lower notes.”

You felt your breath hitch as you saw the famous, and apparently very scary, conductor staring at you. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was still here.”

“Ah so you aren’t here for the auditions?” Agatha questioned, arching an eyebrow up at you. “What are you doing here then, breaking and entering? I’d hate to have to call security on you.”

“What? No, no I’m not...” You stammered, feeling your cheeks turn red. “I came for the auditions but I was told they were cancelled.”

Agatha laughed, and you noticed how it was more of a cackle. “They were. But believe me dear, I’m sure you would have done the same if you were in my shoes.”

“One of them said you threatened to throw their violin in a wood chipper. Isn’t that a little mean?” You pointed out.

“You did not have to listen to that imbecile butcher the opening of Mendelssohn,” Agatha argued, folding her hands across her chest. “Throwing her violin in a wood chipper would be the least I could do to ensure no one else suffers hearing that disgrace of a sound ever again.”

You stifled a giggle that threatened to escape. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

Agatha waved her hand in the air. “Maybe. But you,” she pointed a finger at you, intrigue colored her features. “You were good. Vitali’s Chaconne is a personal favorite of mine. Everyone always chooses to play Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D Major, or Mendelssohn, or Brahms, or something big and flashy. I’ve always preferred a more subdued piece like Vitali. Violinists don’t take enough time to appreciate the beauty of a chaconne.”

You stared at her in disbelief. Almost no one had even heard of Vitali’s Chaconne, but she did and it was her favorite. “Thank you, Miss Harkness. I-“

“Ah ah ah,” Agatha waved a finger to silence you. “I’m not finished. You were good, but not great. Your octave slides were flat. Your bow hold is giving me a headache, you need to relax more. Your vibrato is too fast, we need to work on slowing it down. Didn’t your teacher ever tell you that? And don’t even get me started on your opening chord.” She eyed the younger woman before continuing. “But despite all that, you have promise.”

You were speechless. She wasn’t yelling at you? “You think I have promise?”

Agatha nodded. “Which is why I’m offering you a job.”

“I got the position?” You smiled. “I can’t believe it.”

Agatha’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? No, don’t be ridiculous. You’re not ready to play with the Manhattan Symphony.”

“But you said you were offering me a job,” you repeated the words of the older woman.

“And I am. As my personal assistant,” Agatha explained as if it was the most obvious answer.

“You want me to be your assistant?” You said in disbelief. “Miss Harkness I’m not so sure if I’m qualified-“

Agatha cut you off again. “If you’re serious about being a violinist, especially being a violinist in my orchestra, we need to work on your technique. Natural talent only gets you so far my dear.” She shrugged. “And I may have just fired my newest assistant for being entirely incompetent.”

“I don’t know what to say,” You admitted. This certainly isn’t how you expected your day to go.

“I’m not going to force you to work for me, dear,” Agatha drawled out. “You can walk right out that door and continue on with your presumably simple and boring life.”

“And if I stay?” You prompted, already knowing what you were going to choose.

Agatha slowly walked up the steps of the stage and approached you. “Well then I’ll have my work cut out for me. As will you, darling. I’ll be working you quite hard.” You blushed at her suggestive tone and she smirked at your reaction. “Blushing already? I’ve barely even started.”

You cleared you throat before nodding. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Then let’s get started.” Agatha smirked. “This is going to be fun. Now, let’s take it from the top.”

Working for Agatha was interesting. She was very hard to read, and you could never tell if she was mad at you or if she was just in a mood. You had spent the past few weeks helping her prepare for the first symphony rehearsal of the season. Granted you weren’t doing much to help, all she was asking you to do was make copies of parts and to organize folders for each section.

Today was different. You entered the mostly empty building with a drink holder containing two cups of coffee in one hand and your violin case in the other when the sound of Agatha’s heels came click-clacking down the hallway. From the moment she rounded the corner, you could tell she was in a foul mood.

She was mumbling something incoherent but she stopped when she spotted you. “You’re late.”

You chose to not comment on the fact you were an hour early and instead carefully set down your violin case to hand her one of the cups of coffee. “Bad morning?”

“Hayward is an asshole,” Agatha seethed. “I had the entire season planned out but he thinks I’m not appealing to our investors.”

Well that explained it. Tyler Hayward was CFO of the Manhattan Symphony Orchestra and was a Grade-A asshole. You only had a few interactions with the man but they had all been quite unpleasant. He was less than pleased to discover Agatha had fired the assistant he hired and chose to hire you without consulting him. Luckily Agatha had all but kicked him out of her office and told you to come to her if he gave you a hard time.

“How is Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9 not appealing to investors?” You asked in confusion. “Everyone loves The New World Symphony.”

“That’s not the problem. He thinks I’m playing it too safe with the soloists,” Agatha explained and you thought of the soloists selected thus far. You could see how they would be safe options, but who doesn’t love Joshua Bell?

“But it’s too late to get out of those contracts without losing money,” You pointed out. “Does Hayward not know that?”

“Oh believe me, Hayward always gets his way,” Agatha spat out, and you noticed she appeared to be growing angrier. “He’s still mad I was voted in as music director by the board instead of his choice for the position, so he’s punishing me. And now I have to deal with Maximoff.”

You made a mental note to address the first part about Hayward later when Agatha wasn’t as grumpy, but grinned at the mention of the famous pianist. “Maximoff as in the Wanda Maximoff? She’s-“

“A wild card and not the soloist I envisioned having,” Agatha finished for you, glaring at the mere thought of the woman as you both walked towards her office.

“But she’s an amazing pianist,” You argued, remembering the one time you had the opportunity to watch her perform live with the Royal Philharmonic. “The way she plays is beautiful, and magical, and-“

Agatha growled and glared at you, picking up the speed she was walking at. “And she has no control. She doesn’t listen to direction and thinks she’s always right. Her ego is her downfall.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Wow, that sounds absolutely nothing like you.”

Agatha let out a laugh but still sent you another glare. “Don’t push it, darling,” Agatha warned you as she unlocked the door to her office. “I am nothing like Wanda Maximoff.”

You rolled your eyes after she turned around. “Right. So I’ll take the Beethoven parts out to make room for Wanda’s piece?”

Agatha sighed and combed her fingers through her wildly curly hair. “Well I’d rather just tell the little Sokovian princess she’s not allowed anywhere near my orchestra. But since that would be frowned upon, yes put the Beethoven back. Her agent should be emailing us the parts later today.”

You set off to prepare the dreadful task of reorganizing each folder while Agatha studied different scores. She had her baton out and was mindlessly conducting as she went through the fourth movement of the Dvorak. Over the past few weeks you had started to fall in love with watching her conduct. There was something so mesmerizing by the way she could bring different pieces to life with the mere movement of her hands. You watched her right hand lightly grip the baton and noticed the position of her fingers lightly grasping the silver object while her blue eyes scanned the score.

She felt your staring and smirked as she continued conducting. “See something you like, dear?”

Blushing furiously you went back to your task of sorting music, but every once in a while you allowed yourself to take a break to watch Agatha conduct, and although she smirked whenever she noticed, she didn’t make any more comments. Eventually you finished the work and put the folders away while filing the Beethoven in the cabinet.

“Good, you’re done,” Agatha said as she stood up. “Now it’s time for my favorite part of the day.”

You internally groaned and realized what she wanted. “Where you make one of the interns cry and go get lunch?”

“Close, dear. But no.” She motioned to your violin case. “Come.”

This was your least favorite part of the day. Now, you were used to receiving constructive criticism, and even just good old fashioned criticism. Over the years you had less than kind violin teachers, and you shuddered at the memory of Stefan throwing a chair across the room when you only had three pages of Mendelssohn fully memorized two months before your recital preview. He kept yelling in Russian that he would not be the first faculty member to have a student fail a preview. Or the time Jacqueline caused you to have a panic attack right before your sophomore year concerto competition because she didn’t ‘like your stage presence’ and went on some insane rant, and then yelled at you more while you were sobbing. Ah, the fond memories you had of college.

But there was something so intensely nerve wracking about performing in front of Agatha that it made all of those encounters seem like fun and games. You weren’t sure what it was about the woman, but there was just something about her presence that constantly had you on edge. What made it ten times worse was that Agatha seemed to be aware of the effect she had on you, and did whatever she could to make you blush.

You took a few moments to tune your violin and roll your shoulders back while Agatha made herself comfortable in the audience, but you both knew she wouldn’t stay out there for long.

“Now darling,” Agatha called out from her seat. “I want you to remember what we’ve been working on. The first impression you set when your bow hits the string needs to be dominating. I want to feel like you’re pinning me down on the stage. Make me want it.”

You stared at her incredulously and shook your head, trying not to visualize what she just said to you. “Right...pinning...dominating,” You murmured as you straightened your stance and took a deep breath. Setting your bow on the string, you made sure it was positioned at the frog.

“I can see you tensing from all the way out here,” Agatha said in a mocking tone. “Do I need to come up there and help you relax?”

You knew her coming anywhere near you would do the opposite to relax you. “Nope. Just stay where you are!”

“Oh, are you the one giving orders now, my dear?” Agatha teased as she slowly got out of her seat and made her way towards the stage. “I’m just trying to help. You need to relax your shoulders, otherwise you’re going to end up with a hunchback.”

“I like the Hunchback of Notre Dame,” You offered weakly as you watched her stalk her way up the stairs, her heels clicking up each step.

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.” She closed the distance between you and put her hands on your shoulders. “You need to relax.” She examined you closer and arched an eyebrow. “And breathe, my dear. Unless you want to fall in my arms.” You had taken to staring at the floor of the stage until you felt her hand gently cup your chin, forcing you to gaze at her. “Am I that hideous to look at that?”

“Ha, you’re so funny,” You managed to get out before taking a deep breath, and once again tried to relax your shoulders.

Despite your best efforts, you still felt tense, and Agatha noticed it as well. Letting out a gentle huff she moved behind you and began to rub your upper back. “Jeez, have you ever had a massage? It seems like you need one.”

“That’s a bit above my current pay check,” You quipped and blushed when you heard her responding chuckle.

“If you’re asking for a raise, you’re going to have to do better than that,” Agatha replied, her breath tickling your ear and sending delightful shivers down your spine. “You need to let go, darling. This much tension in your shoulders will do too much damage to your posture.”

She hit a particularly hard knot and you couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. You thought you heard Agatha mumble something under her breath but you were so lost in the sensation you didn’t ask her what she said. Agatha continued rubbing your shoulders and you slowly felt yourself relax into her touch.

“That’s it,” Agatha murmured. “Good girl.” Your eyes shot open at the praise and you heard her lightly chuckle. “Relax, dear. I could do this all day.”

Your shoulders eventually loosened up and you couldn’t help but groan when Agatha took a step away from you. “Quit your whining and play that chord,” Agatha demanded as she turned away from you, clapping her hands loudly. “I want to be wowed.”

Taking a deep breath, you fixed your stance before setting your bow back on the string. You were hesitating, and Agatha knew it too.

“Any day now. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” Agatha’s words were sharp but you knew she meant it as encouragement.

You let go of any fears you had of what would come next as you positioned your fingers on the string and rolled your bow to produce the g-minor chord. Your left wrist was loose enough to slow down your vibrato and you went through the first section without any interruptions from Agatha. As you began the next phrase you remembered what Agatha had told you about making it bigger and better than before.

“Always leave them wanting more,” Agatha had instructed her. “Make each phrase slightly different. No one wants to suffer through ten minutes of the same few notes.”

You added more vibrato for this phrase and changed the dynamics so you were growing in sound until you heard her calling for you to stop.

“Stop! Stop, that’s enough,” Agatha yelled as she walked back towards you. “That was...better.”

“Dare I say you sound surprised?” You joked causing her to glare at you.

“Fishing for compliments, are we?” She questioned, but eventually relented. “You’re getting better.”

You grinned wildly at her praise. “That was the nicest thing you’ve said to me so far today.”

“Keeping score?” Agatha mused, a smile threatening to tug at her lips at your enthusiasm. “Like I said, you’re getting better, but there’s a lot of work to do. I want to hear those octave slides and not feel like my ears are bleeding from your intonation. Chop chop.”

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha wandavision #wandavision #agnes x reader #agatha harkness x you #marvel au #wandavision au #orchestra au #Agatha Harkness

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katzkinder · 3 years ago

Text

Little Drops of Water

Tetsu is his pride and joy.

It goes without saying, really, that his dear Eve is his greatest treasure in the world, and that the Item he has been given, one half of the set of four hairclips Tetsu used to keep his hair out of his face all throughout middle and highschool, are almost equally as dear to him as the boy himself. Long after Tetsu is gone, their shiny plastic, ocean blue, will last and Hugh will add them to his treasures. There they will remain alongside a young noble girl’s favored comb, a king and hero’s favorite embroidery (done by the steady and lovely hand of his wife), and… A peasant girl’s dress, carefully, lovingly preserved against the ravages of time, so delicate now that only the most trusted of his subclass are allowed to care for it.

Yes, Tetsu is his pride and joy, and yes, it goes without saying that Hugh holds him near and dear to his heart… But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t brag about him to whoever was fortunate enough to have to listen to him.

...Which is why the situation in front of him is so… Frustrating.

Now, call him a coward, call him a fool, call him a doddering old man… Perhaps he was all those things. But he was not so fool enough as to blindly praise working oneself into the ground, nor was he the type to give praise where it wasn’t due.

Tetsu was not the brightest.

He would admit this, albeit no longer to his Eve’s face. And while he would admit this, he would also much more readily sing Tetsu’s redeeming qualities. Tetsu was a hard worker. Tetsu was steadfast. Tetsu was loyal. Tetsu was a good listener.

Tetsu was all these things and more, but most of all, Tetsu was dedicated.

Which is how Hugh found himself acting as tutor, with his brilliant mind and sharp wit, while his dear Eve prepared for university entrance exams.

It was heartbreaking, though, how hard he worked. Not because Hugh believed he would fail, oh no, far from it. Tetsu might not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was fastidious, and really, Hugh thought, the thing that held him back the most was his lack of confidence in his own abilities, to which Hugh proudly thought he had been quite instrumental in rectifying, if he did say so himself.

It was heartbreaking because… Sometimes, it felt as if the only one who believed Tetsu would succeed was Tetsu himself.

And Hugh, of course.

Now, don’t get him wrong. He didn’t believe Tetsu’s family meant to discourage their son. Far from it, they wanted nothing more than for Tetsu to succeed, and they supported him fully in his university career endeavors. Except, well, Tetsu had told him that he wanted to go to university for one very simple, but very heartfelt reason.

He wanted to save their inn.

The inn which… Tetsu’s own parents felt had no future.

But Tetsu and his iron will, of course, thought otherwise, and he refused to give up on the family business, the place he had grown up and loved and worked so very hard to help run, even as far back as before he and Hugh had met. It was charming. It was lovely. It made Hugh want to fight for him, more than ever before.

The inn was something that, even more than a contract with Hugh, Tetsu took Pride in.

So Hugh, in order to nurture that pride, in order to care for his Eve, would do everything in his power to teach Tetsu everything he needed to know to make that dream of his come true. To make their home, because that’s what it is, this place. This little inn is Hugh’s home now, too. It’s no grand castle, no stone walls or towers or awe inspiring, imposing structures, but he loves it all the same, loves the people who make it such a warm, wonderful place.

He wonders how he could have ever considered letting this place die.

Hugh knows the answer, of course. It’s because he was a coward, a fool, and a doddering old man.

He refuses to be that way any longer.

***

“Hugh. Are you tired?”

The Servamp of Pride exaggerates his yawn further, rubs at one of his eyes with a tiny fist, and mumbles that he is fine, he can keep going, let them continue the lesson. Tetsu frowns at him, adjusts the reading glasses he now needs (and he’s grown into such a handsome young man, Hugh thinks, barely able to keep the smile off his face to continue his ruse), and sets the heavy prep book aside.

“No, it’s late. What time is it?”

“Check your phone, my boy… It’s almost a quarter to eleven,” Hugh informs him, just as Tetsu makes a startled noise when he confirms as such with his own eyes.

“It really is that late… Hugh, that’s amazing. You never need to check a clock or anything.” He shakes his head, willing the distraction away. “Sorry. I should have kept a better eye on the time. Let’s stop for the night. I didn’t notice, but… I’m kind of tired, too.”

And just like that, Tetsu starts tidying his space, placing his glasses back in their case and his books back in his bag while Hugh goes to fetch their pajamas. His Eve pats his head when he returns, murmuring a quiet thanks while Hugh soaks up the attention in a way very few people who aren’t big brother are able to earn from him, and after that, it’s the rest of their bedtime routine as normal. Getting changed, brushing their teeth, rolling out the futon, and climbing in together, Hugh always forever tiny against Tetsu’s larger frame, forever his Eve’s favorite teddy bear.

It suits him just fine, and he chitters softly, contently, when he’s snuggled close, tucks his head up under Tetsu’s chin and inhales the scent of pine he finds there, that wafts from Tetsu himself and his futon each. It’s soothing. It’s home.

Hugh cannot allow himself to fall asleep yet, no matter how tempting it is.

He lies there, being held, being loved, and waits for Tetsu’s breaths to slow, waits for his arms to go slack, just a bit, because once Tetsu is asleep… His real work begins.

It’s easy to slip away. A bat in the night, easing the door to Tetsu’s room open and swooping out into the halls, a wandering pet no one will see in the dark and no one will hear, silent as the beat of his wings are. He pauses, only briefly, when passing by the front desk where the lovely spouse of Tetsu’s elder sister still diligently works, greeting Miyako with a swoop and a cheep. She smiles at him, bids him safe journey.

“I’ll leave the lamp on for you. Take care, Hugh~”

A charming young lady, and she treats Tetsu well. Hugh can’t say he disapproves of her, even if her family is one he could do without. Of course, he never says as much, neither to her face nor to Tetsu’s.

That would be rude.

...To All of Love, however, he will gladly complain.

***

Hugh does not return until hours later, when the moon has passed its highest point in the sky and is on its journey back down to the horizon, chased by creatures neither he nor humanity can see, and yet, if you had asked him once, he would proclaim for certain that they were there.

Now, though, science tells otherwise, and he mourns the loss of that mysticism of the past at the same time he celebrates the inventions of the future, because it is only through the inventions of the future that he is able to monitor what needs to be monitored, and complete the tasks that need to be completed.

Such as keeping up with the local subclass, not all of which are his.

It is… Exhausting work.

Tokyo is a large place, and even without the Melancholy vampires to look after, knock on wood that it stays that way, even without Lust subclass, godspeed to All of Love, the number of them in Tokyo is staggering. Most of them are his, yes, and he does not regret granting them new life, no, never, not one bit, but… Well. Some of them need more assistance than others, and between tending the inn alongside Tetsu, studying, and this, his schedule is just… Completely packed full.

He wouldn’t trade this mind numbing feeling for the world. Not after they worked so hard to achieve what is still, unfortunately, an unsteady peace, but it’s an unsteady peace that has allowed his siblings and his subclass to prosper. To be happy, and healthy, and it leaves him puffing out his chest, tired but proud. Tired but happy.

Hugh would do even more if it were asked of him, he thinks as he sits to start putting together more flashcards and mnemonics and memory games, pens and books and note cards spread out in front of him while he lies on his stomach and gets to work. He would do even more, do whatever he could, if only to secure Tetsu’s future even more surely than the rising of the sun.

Because Tetsu is his pride and joy.

And as his pride and joy… Hugh would make certain that his Eve could rest without a single ounce of guilt.

Sleep well, my dear. The future is yours.

#kat's katerwauling #servamp #tetsu sendagaya #hugh the dark algernon iii #pride pair #pawprints #servamp fic #where my pride stans at

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alicemitch09writes · 4 years ago

Text

skinny love

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

summary: 6 months later. Was he too late?

author’s notes: This is a direct sequel to first love and part of a trilogy also aptly named ‘first love’ ugh, i am so unoriginal. Please go read that first before this, otherwise you’ll be confused.

also available on ao3.

disclaimer: i own NOTHING but the plot.

His feet feel like lead as he trudged to the vending machine, adamant on getting coffee. It was only Monday. The smallest sounds of coin drops and beeps were making his head hurt.

Taking his first sip of his coffee, he walked around the quiet halls.

He hated hospitals.

Actually, they weren't that bad, having everything it needed to cater to the patient's needs. But it was a façade to their impending doom. And he hated it. Hated the way doctors and nurses would say with practiced ease that everything will be alright – when it won't.

They mean well, they really do, but they were a painful reminder of how fragile life was – how easy it can be taken away.

Reaching Room #423, he turned the knob, finding (Name) in the same state she's been the past six months. The door shuts quietly behind him, back resting against it.

"Tetsu, have you been eating?"

He could almost hear her voice, filled with worry of how thin he is. She always did that, nagging him like a mom to eat if he wanted to win. Funny she thought that, thinking more of his (and the team's) welfare's than her own. (Name) was always that kind.

Instead, the image of that beautiful girl was replaced with one lying on the hospital bed – limp and lifeless.

(Name) didn't belong here, not in this hospital nor in that bed she was lying in. No.

She deserved to be home, in her room surrounded by her instruments, fussing herself with her studies, that new song she wanted to learn, or managing a pack of rowdy boys.

He didn’t know how long he just stood there before he heard a knock at the door. Lazily turning his body, he opened the door; his actions seemed robotic, staring at two familiar faces.

"Hey man," Bokuto greeted, balloons in different colors and shapes (there was one in the shape of an owl) in hand, worry in his eyes. "Wow, you look like shit."

"Thanks." He said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"That wasn't very nice, Bokuto-san." Akaashi scolded, appearing behind the salt-and-pepper-haired teen with flowers in his hands.

Too tired to argue, he stepped aside, letting them in. Closing the door behind him, he watched the two eyeing the unconscious girl, hearing Bokuto sighing while Akaashi dutifully went straight for the vase, intending to replace the flowers.

He plopped down on his seat, canned coffee still in hand.

"But seriously man," Bokuto called, tying the balloons next to the side table. "you look terrible."

Kuroo closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose.

"When was the last time you went out?"

"Bokuto-san." Akaashi called in warning, appearing from the toilet with a vase filled with clean water.

"I'm serious!" Kuroo draped an arm over his eyes as if to hide the bags underneath. "Dude, you barely left since. Day in, day out, you're here but never at home. Nowhere else but here. You even ditched your first year of college!"

"I won't want to leave her," Kuroo said, still not moving from his spot.

Bokuto frowned at his friend, arms crossed. "I'm not saying that you should, I'm saying (Name)-chan wouldn't like to see you this way."

(Name).

Sighing, Kuroo slumped forward, arms propped on his knees, staring at the sterile ground.

"We're just worried about you, Kuroo."

That must be the umpteenth time someone's told him that – his mom, his dad, his older sister, Kenma, Coach Nekomata, the team. But still, his resolve won't change.

Taking a long sip, he met both stares from Bokuto and Akaashi, who had just finished with the flowers.

"I'm not leaving her." he said in finality, turning to the sleeping girl. There were a lot of things he wanted to tell her, a lot. And he wanted to be the first person she sees when she wakes up, the first person to see her wake.

Sighing exasperatedly, hands on his hips, Bokuto resigned. His friend was stubborn, but he had an iron resolve. "I know you won't. Figured as much."

"Then why do you still bother?"

Smirking at the raven-haired teen, he says with a shrug. "Because bro, you matter to me."

Kuroo put a hand to his heart, touched. "Bro."

"Bokuto-san just wanted to act cool every once in a while," Akaashi coolly said, opening the drapes. That earned a loud, familiar call from his former captain. Kuroo smiled, some things never change.

"But seriously dude, you could use a bath because you smell like shit."

Akaashi didn't need to scold him then as Bokuto received a (friendly) punch to the gut from Kuroo.

Six months.

That's how long he was suffering, how long he had been tortured by the mere thought of never seeing her smile again, of never hearing her laugh again, of never having her around again – of never seeing her again.

The word cancer stuck to his head was like a punch to the gut, pummeling him inside out with every step he took. Never mind the burning pain of his muscles from a day's worth of match, never mind finally giving their coach the chance to witness the 'Battle at the Dumps' match even though they lost, never mind that his high school life had officially come to an end – they didn't matter at this point. He just wanted to see her.

And the first time he saw her – dressed in a hospital gown, with tubes sticking to her body connected to machines that kept her alive, he was crushed. As if he were a porcelain doll smashed into a million pieces, each fragment breaking into smaller pieces.

He nearly broke down at the sight of her. She was beautiful as ever, yet to see her in that situation broke his heart.

(Name) had been operated; the chances of her survival were slim. But the only thing Kuroo could think was how small (Name) looked in that big, white bed.

Picking her hands, he noted how small they were – how he could practically see and feel her bones. Threading his finger through hers, he brought them to his cheek, relishing in her warmth. These were the same fingers that cared for him each time he'd earn a bruise or a scratch, the same hands that brushed his hair when he was sleepy – gentle touches that made him think that she was an angel. Slim fingers that did magic with every instrument she held.

He always knew she was small – fragile, even – but it only clicked to him now as to why that was the case. Ironic that he was the perceptive guy, inside and outside the court, yet he failed to notice his best friend's wellbeing. How did he miss to notice how little she would eat, how easily tired she was, or how low her stamina was? He was supposed to be the smart guy, for crying out loud!

He wanted to hit himself, to numb himself of the pain.

The moment he found out, he wouldn't stop crying, hating himself every minute of every day.

(Name) wouldn't wake up.

(Name). Wouldn't. Wake. Up.

"Kuroo," a voice called, quiet and low, one he knew all too well. Weakly raising his head, he looked over his shoulder, meeting a familiar blonde teen.

Kenma looked at his best friend worriedly, a frown in his face. "You should go home." The raven-haired lad shook his head, Kenma sighed. "(Name) wouldn't like that."

"I'm not leaving her." he says, voice raspy.

Kenma stared, eyes narrowing. "Have you been eating at least?"

"I've been snacking on what Auntie gives me," he rubs his eyes tiredly, stretching his arms over his head. "I'll be fine."

His dark hair was greasy, sticking out to different directions – messier than usual; there were bags under his eyes. The clothes he's been wearing were days old now, but it's not like he leaves the hospital. How long has he had proper sleep or shower?

"You're not." Kenma pointed out, walking towards the bed, opposite to where his friend was. He arranges the plushies from various game characters beside her bed, dusting a few. When he was done, he stood next to the unconscious girl, eyes dancing with sorrow.

Kuroo watched his friend carefully, a question burning his head. "How long have you known?"

Kenma blinked. Deciding to sit down, he met Kuroo's gaze. "A while now." He answers as if anticipating the question. "(Name) was the most secretive amongst us three; I thought you'd have known first." Shrugging, he adjusted her blanket. "But you didn't." Kuroo wanted to laugh at that because it was half-true. They both knew he was far more observant than he let on.

Sighing, the blonde props his arm on a nearby desk, resting his head on his palm. "Knowing her secret was like carrying a heavy burden because it's her secret and your knowledge of her sickness."

Frowning, he asked. "She didn't know that you knew?"

The blonde shook his head without looking at him. "Like I said, it was a burden on my part as well. Plus, that'd be disrespecting (Name). And I can't do that to her."

Something likened to rage burned within him, he was standing before his best friend before he knew it. "And you didn't bother to tell me?"

"It's not my secret to tell." Kenma says easily, carefully setting her clamped hand aside.

"But we're best friends!" Kuroo's voice rose, earning a scoff from the blonde as he turned to meet his gaze, eyes almost challenging.

"Don't you think that'd be disrespecting (Name)'s decision?" Kuroo was practically shaking now, hands balled into a fist. "Besides, it's not like you cared to begin with-"

Kuroo had grabbed him by the collar, raising him to his level. "I dare you to say that again." He seethed hotly, eyes burning.

Kenma didn't falter, eyes glowering. "What's the matter, Kuroo? Upset that for once, you failed to gain information before me to break someone, to use it to your advantage? Or are you just mad that (Name) couldn't trust you enough?"

"Shut up!" his voice rose, grip tightening.

Steely gold hues met his, challenging and mocking. "Then are you guilty because it's practically your fault she's in this situation?"

That was the final straw.

Taking his hand back, Kuroo was just about to smack Kenma in the face when blaring sound rang through the room. The two automatically turned to her, panicked, Kuroo dropped Kenma, ran for the intercom while Kenma stared at (Name)'s body, not knowing what to do.

A little while later, a nurse came rushing in.

Kuro and Kenma stepped aside, watching the nurse attend to their best friend each holding their breath. Kuroo was wondering if he should've called for her doctor, but after a while, the nurse sedated her, (Name)'s body relaxed.

The gentle beep of the heart monitor demonstrated her calmness.

"She'll be alright, just a little stressed is all." The nurse says kindly, much to their relief.

They sighed in unison, rooted on the spot even as the nurse left the room.

(Name)'s breathing slowly through the calming silence that came, followed by the purring of the machines and quite chattering outside.

The two best friends stood there, watching the unconscious girl. Kuroo and Kenma slumped against the wall, the raven-haired teen slipping to the ground. The tension between the two was still there, something that was rare even for them. In the many years they knew each other, not once have they got into a fight this extreme. And even if a fight did ensue, there was only one person who could bring it to a stop, one person they'd bow to other than Yaku.

"She'd kill us by now," Kenma sighs, breaking the silence.

Kuroo snorted at that, hiding the smile on his face.

Eventually, he broke into fits of laughter. Kenma joined in.

"She'd give us a litany," Kuroo added, voice thick. "then she'd take us by the ear."

Kenma shuddered, rubbing at his ear. Kuroo did the same.

"You started it though," Kenma told him, bluntly.

Kuroo narrowed his eyes at him. "But you fanned the flames."

They burst into chuckles, tension dying down.

A little while later, the room was filled with members of the Nekoma team – bringing flowers, fruits, and toys. Each member, especially Yamamoto, Inuoka, and Lev, fawned over their unconscious manager while Fukunaga fussed over the snacks. Yaku had to keep everyone in line.

The best friends exchanged a look, knowing that if (Name) were awake, she couldn't be any happier.

Someone was waking him, gently shaking his shoulders. Raising his head from his folded arms, he was met with warm (eye color) eyes. "Tetsuroo-kun." The woman greeted kindly.

"Auntie," He stood up in greeting, pulling his wrinkled clothes down. "Good evening."

Her smile, it reminded him of hers, how he missed her smile. "Good evening." Walking across the room, she dropped her bag and sat on the chair next to her daughter, patting a hand over her cheek. "Any news?" she asked, looking up at him.

He shook his head, hands tightening. "Just the same."

The smile remained, eyes never losing its light. "Then she's still alright."

Just staring at the woman made him wonder how she could still be so optimistic about the situation. It must be hard on her, her only daughter was under coma after her operation, yet she never loses hope. She was just like (Name). And duh, she was her mom!

"Have you eaten?"

He nodded. "Yeah." He lied, tucking his hands on his pockets.

She stared, her smile waning a bit, worry in her eyes, then nods.

"Where is Uncle?" he asked, staring at freshly cut flowers next to her bed – carnations, care of the Fukorodani team.

"Oh, just parking the car. He'll be here in a while."

Kuroo nods, not knowing what else to say. So he sits by the couch, watching Auntie talked to her daughter, telling her how her classmates missed her (evidenced by the balloons and cards surrounding her bed), how their neighbors have as well, how quiet the house has been lately without her playing, the little things. But to her, they were all that mattered.

He hung his head, not wanting to watch any longer. He could hear the sadness in her voice, the longing, and yet, she still hopes. How could she?

"I'll be right back, Auntie." He announces, making his way out before she could reply, missing the worried look on her face.

Six months.

Six excruciating months.

He's endured and suffered that long.

But still, she wouldn't wake up.

Splashing water to his face, he then looked up, finding a miserable guy staring back at him.

Then are you guilty because it's practically your fault she's in this situation?

No matter what they say, it was his fault she was in this situation. It was his fault she's lying in that hospital bed, unconscious. It was his fault.

He wanted to punch his reflection so bad, but he was tired (physically and emotionally).

He didn't like hospitals, hated how clinically clean it was and how dreadful it was. Life came and go here.

Reaching for the door to her room, he paused.

What good would it be for him to be here?

He didn't deserve to be here keeping guard and watching her.

What was he even doing here?

"Aren't you going to go in?" a voice called behind him.

Turning, he was met with a kind gaze from a bespectacled (hair color) man. Their kind disposition ran in the family, he didn't deserve it.

At a loss for words, Kuroo mumbled unintelligent words, the man laughed heartily.

"Looks like you need a bite," although shorter than the teen, he wrapped his arm around his shoulders, steering them away. "come, you need to eat."

Kuroo gulped, staring down at the meal before him, then at the smiling man. There were a few people at the cafeteria – a few nurses and doctors on break, a kid with his mother, some teens, and them.

A comfortable silence forms between them despite having fidgeting in his presence.

The smell of strong spice was making his mouth water, aptly reminding him of the lie he told Auntie. Truth was, he snacked on some fruits given by his family earlier that day, that and coffee. A little while later, his stomach growled. The old man chuckled heartily. "Go on," he encourages.

Timidly, he nodded, saying his grace before digging in.

His eyes widened at the burst of flavors in his mouth, almost forgetting what an amazing cook the man was. He chewed carefully, distracting himself with the texture and taste.

He hadn't noticed the old man leaving until he came back with a can of orange juice for both of them. Kuroo muttered a 'thanks', chugging down the beverage.

"It's so good to see you eat," he tells him, eyes crinkling. "and no, you can't lie to me. I know you, Tetsuroo-kun." He laughed.

It was like he was eight again. It was always like that with this man, this amazing man, who held instruments like magic, the same man who was the father of the girl lying in this very hospital bed, comatose, because of him.

He chewed slowly, eyes dropping. Eventually, he swallowed but didn't reach for more even though the bento box was still full.

"Oh, are you done eating?" asked the confused man.

He almost wanted to laugh.

These past months weren't easy on all of them, especially for them. They could have blamed him for why their daughter was here, but they didn't. Instead, they pulled themselves together for her and for him.

"Thank you, uncle." He says instead, meaning it. Kuroo grinned at the confused man before digging in again.

He shook his head at the teen before him, chuckling heartily. He studies the young boy before him, remembering the look on his face when he saw her comatose state – it was the look of absolute heartbreak.

When he was done eating, they packed slowly, making slow talk (although it was more of him doing the talking). They were standing outside her room, but before they entered, he called him.

"She wouldn't like it you know," he tells him, sincerely. "seeing you like this, filled with guilt and hate. She would've wanted you to be happy, even if she's not the one causing it."

There was a sharp tug in his heart at the last line. "But she makes me happy." It was barely a whisper, tears starting anew. "But I didn't let her know that."

His eyes were stinging with tears, body trembling.

The older man patted his shoulder, squeezing in assurance.

While waiting for her to wake up, he often talked to her about their childhood, some dumb memories, and some good ones. He even told her of the events that transpired during nationals, not knowing that she was watching via live television.

"You should've been there," he said quietly, letting his fingers play with her growing (hair color) hair. "the team wouldn't be anything without our manager."

Some days, he'd read to her, having scavenged through her room from her yet to-read pile. He had to endure going through books that were not of his genre (especially romance), but in the end, found himself enjoying them.

With each passing day, the hope of her waking up was waning. He feared she might never wake up. The waiting was killing him, unnerving and destroying him. But he didn't give up hope, could never. He could wait years if he has to, just to see her (eyes color) eyes again, hear her laugh again, and be with her.

"Oh my, it's that boy again! He's become a familiar face around here."

"How long has he been visiting her?"

"About six months now, since that girl was brought in. He practically lives here."

"Poor thing, looks like he hasn't eaten or slept for days!"

"And he barely leaves her room. And when he does, it's only for a few hours or a day, and then he's back."

"Seriously?"

"The poor boy, the pain he's been through."

"And she might never wake up."

"I don't care what they say," he says against their intertwined fingers. "you are perfect to me. And I'm not leaving you."

It was barely midnight, but he couldn't help it. The conversation he heard earlier was getting to him. They didn't know anything about him or her. It was none of their business.

But to say that she was never going to wake up?

No.

He didn't like to think about it.

She was going to wake up.

He knew it.

But honestly? He wasn't so sure anymore.

Shifting in his seat, he threw his head back, massaging at his throbbing temples. When he opened his eyes, he noted something from the corner of his eye. Her ukulele was lying beside her; he stared at it long and hard before deciding to pick it up. Upon closer inspection, he noticed scratches and a Band-Aid on the crack of the soundboard. Something tugged inside him; he knew exactly where that crack came from.

His grip tightened.

Kenma was right, he was selfish.

He was so selfish.

Absentmindedly, he played with the strings, filling the silence. And then, he began adjusting the chords. It used to drive (Name) nuts, especially when she found how out of tune her ukulele was because of him. He smiled, he always loved seeing her cute face pinched into a frown – she was so cute like that.

Satisfied with the pitch, his calloused fingers began to play a few strings. The song was slow, gentle.

I wanna make you smile, whenever you're sad

Carry you around when your arthritis is bad

All I wanna do, is grow old with you

I'll get your medicine when your tummy aches

Build you a fire if the furnace breaks

Oh it could be so nice, growing old with you

He loved her.

Cliché as it is, he did.

Truth of the matter is, he's always been in love with her.

From the first moment they met, the first time he saw her smile, the first time she scolded him and Kenma, the first time she fussed over them, the first time he saw her play an instrument, to the first time she made him realize how many years have passed that he was so, so, in love with her.

So hopelessly in love with (Name).

Except, he was scared to risk their friendship – scared that she might not feel the same way he did.

I'll miss you

Kiss you

Give you my coat when you are cold

Need you

Feed you

Even let ya hold the remote control

Six months without her was absolute torture.

She was part of every significant event in his life; he couldn't remember spending a day without her in it

Because life without her? He couldn't even imagine.

It was meaningless.

If he could, he'd turn back time and make it right.

So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink

Put you to bed if you've had too much to drink

I could be the man who grows old with you

I wanna grow old with you

The last lines of the song came out barely a whisper.

Releasing a shaky breath, he hung his head, tears streamed freely. "I've waited so long to play that."

It was the cheesiest song from a lousy movie. But the song, he had to admit, was one of his low-key favorites. The lyrics to the song were so sincere and heartfelt. He finally understood why love songs were made – to say the words everyone failed to say or supplement their feelings.

If only she was awake, then she'd hear his feelings.

Putting her ukulele away, he takes her hand in his, holding it close as he cried. "Please, wake up."

He buried his face into her hand, kissing it as he repeatedly begs for her to wake up, tears still streaming. "There's so much I want to tell you, so much I want you to know."

Taking her hand, he places a quick kiss to her palm, pressing it against his chest. "Feel that? That's my heart and it's beating for you."

His heart was beating fast, as it always did when (Name) was around.

Every single thing she does wonders is magic to him, especially with the way he captivated her the moment their eyes met. He missed it all – her smile, her touch, her eyes, her laugh, in general, he missed her.

So much it hurt.

Because the possibility of her never waking up was a factor that scared him every single day for the past six months. He didn't want their last meeting to be of him being an ass to her.

His heart skipped a beat.

He looked up at her, then at the hand on his chest, he swore he felt her hand twitch.

#kuroo tetsurou x reader #reader insert #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou angst #kuroo x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #hq #hq x reader #hq fanfic #haikyuu!! fanfic #haikyuu!! angst #hq angst #nekoma #kozume kenma

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bramblepeltao3 · 4 years ago

Text

IDK where else to put this indulgent nonsense so, as one does, I’m putting it on my Tumblr.

Hey do you like my fic where I have an OC who is a gremlin girl and do you also like the Prince!Prompto AU trope and do you want to read a few loose little narrative bits about those two things coming together?

No?

Here it is anyway!

The clock in Prompto’s room sounded out to anyone who listened that the time was now eleven in the morning. Since it was a Thursday, this meant the start to the worst hour of his week, every week, for his whole life.

Every Thursday at eleven in the morning, Dr. Besithia would come by for his weekly check up. The Prince would spend the time trying not to show too much emotion as the doctor used a variety of needles to inject and extract numerous fluids, all while chastising him for being a waste of his and everyone else’s time.

It didn’t matter how strictly Prompto followed the doctor’s orders, or how much control Prompto had over following them in the first place. He never got any better, and he was always made well aware that it was his own fault. The prince of Niflheim was a sickly recluse, so sheltered from the public that many would even doubt his existence. And at fifteen years old, he was lonely and listless and so very tired of living like this.

The door to his bedroom began to open, and Prompto mentally steeled himself for another hour of angry commands, needles, and insults.

“Dr. Besithia to see you, your highness.” The attendant said with a bow. Prompto nodded in return, sitting upright on the edge of his well cushioned bed. The least little rebellion he could maintain was forcing that unpleasant old man to come to him.

But the person who stepped through, all dressed in well ironed white, was not Dr. Besithia. Not at all. This doctor was a woman, and much younger. She bowed slightly upon crossing the threshold before making her way over to him. Prompto, in spite of himself, felt compelled to stand and greet her like the well mannered young man he was supposed to be.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, highness.” She said with a small smile. She looked sad, but gentle, and seemed to be staring at something right behind his own eyes.

“I...I was expecting, I apologize…” Prompto was used to being ogled and visually picked apart by people. Something about her green eyes felt softer. Less invasive and judgemental. Perhaps it was all wishful thinking but her gaze seemed almost kind.

“You were expecting Dr. Besithia?” She asked.

Prompto nodded.

“You’re looking at her.” She smirked. “Doctor Delphia Besithia. Verstael is my father. I understand he was completing your weekly heath assessments, but business for his Imperial Majesty has become...pressing.” The doctor crossed the room over to the little seating area where the work was usually conducted. A clear table, two chairs, plenty of places to hook up Verstael’s array of electrical instruments. “Luckily I’m now officially a licensed medical professional myself, so I’ll be taking over for him.”

Prompto almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So...Dr. Bes-...Verstael won’t be…?”

“You know, why don’t we call my father Dr. Besithia, and you can refer to me as Dr. Delphia. Does that work, your highness?” She asked, setting the large case she was carrying on the table and opening it.

“Yes. I mean, I think that would work fine. Doctor.” Prompto joined her at the table, removing his coat to reveal his bare arms and taking a seat on his usual side of the table.

“So I went over your medical record on the way over, it seems like my old man kept to the same routine every week for a long time. Not all that surprising, except he usually at least tries to change things up whenever he doesn’t get results…”

Prompto cringed. “Yeah, it’s my fault. I just wasn’t trying hard enough.” He sighed, casting his eyes to the floor. He could feel her gaze staring into him once again.

“Your fault?” She asked. “Did my father tell you that?”

He felt himself beginning to sweat. Soon she’d understand just how awful of a patient he really was, and all the gentle niceness would end. She’d grow to hate and resent him just like Dr. Besithia did, he was sure.

“Dude. That’s bullshit.”

Prompto snapped his face up to hers, the bluntness of her assertion shocking him. The doctor had such a look of concern on her face.

“He was your doctor. Treating you was his job. If you weren’t getting better, that’s his fault. Not yours.”

Prompto blinked in confusion.

“If it makes you feel any better, and I doubt it does,” she started retrieving the same instruments he was always used to, “he’s like that with everyone. Everything is always someone else’s fault. No way his genius could be to blame!”

By her tone, Prompto inferred she’d suffered at his words just as much.

“So, let’s start with the easy part. How are you feeling today, your highness?” She asked, taking the other seat and smiling at him.

“How...um, well I’m…” Prompto was not prepared for this question. Easy part, indeed. “Tired, I guess. Like usual. I get dizzy if I stand too long.” And now his heart was pounding in fear. Did he answer wrong? Was that something he could do?

She was typing on a tablet resting in her lap. “Hmm, how about sleep? Do you think you get enough?”

Dr. Besithia never gave Prompto so much time to talk like this. It felt...strange. “I sleep a lot.”

“Do you feel well rested after? Or still tired?” She asked, still typing.

“Oh, uh...I guess I haven’t really thought of that? I’m sorry...guess still tired.”

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize for anything, highness. Okay, if it’s alright with you I’d like to start taking your vitals now.”

...did she just ask him permission? She did. And she was waiting for his answer.

He nodded. And the next thing to strike him was just how gentle she actually was. She never grabbed, but waited for him to offer his arm or hand as needed. She didn’t yell or snipe or speak critically of him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about this. It was oddly terrifying, somehow.

“Alright, your blood pressure is a little low, so we can start with that. There’s a few simple things we can change to try and get it stabilized. Hopefully that will help with the dizziness too!”

Prompto sat in stunned silence as she prescribed such basic things like drinking more water and adding salt to his meals. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It felt...too easy. After years of living like this, there was no way it could actually be so simple.

“Unfortunately I am going to need to get some blood for lab work, if that’s ok, highness.”

He felt like he might cry. She actually listened to him, and asked him to talk to her. If she really was replacing Besithia going forward, maybe things would actually get better. Maybe... He hoped she never got sick of him, and he’d do everything he could to prevent that.

“You can call me Prompto, um, Doctor. Please.”

She looked at him strangely, like he’d just told her there was a behemoth on her shoulder. But then she smiled again. “Why don’t you call me Del then, Prompto? Has anyone ever told you you have great veins? This is going to be so fast.” And surprisingly, it was. The whole ordeal was over so quickly he couldn’t believe she’d actually done it.

“Alright, unless there’s anything else you’d like to discuss, I think that ends our appointment today.” She began packing everything back up. “And if anything comes up at all, I’m only one floor away!”

“Wait, really?” Dr. Besithia always made a point of reminding him he had to travel a long way for these appointments.

“Yeah, I’m here at the palace full time. Another perk of the job. If you need anything at all, just ask your attendant. I’m here for you Prompto, any time.”

It took everything in him to maintain some amount of regal composure and not start crying. Somehow, for the first time, he had hope. And if nothing else, there was someone here who might actually listen to him.

---

Delphia bowed to the prince before turning and walking to the elevator. She held herself together perfectly until the elevator doors closed behind her and she was granted ten seconds of complete isolation. An hour’s worth of suppressed, extreme emotion bubbled out all at once in a large gasp for air. Her chest felt tight and her eyes burned with the threat of tears.

You have to do this. You have to do this. You have to be here for him, because no one else will.

Delphia composed herself just as the doors opened again. It was another two minutes before she made it to her office which she thankfully had to herself. She opened the door and flipped on the light.

And really, she should have expected that she wouldn’t actually get to be alone just yet.

“Doctor Besithia, how is our young charge on this day?” Chancellor Izunia, hat in hand, bowed to her.

“Terrible, but you already knew that didn’t you Ardyn?” She didn’t have time for his fanciful speech patterns and flowery prose right now. She had samples to run.

“Looking a bit red eyed yourself, Delphia. Hard first day on the job?” He tailed her to the workstation, watching carefully as she washed and gloved her hands.

“Why do you always ask questions you already know the answer to?” She asked, getting the little centrifuge ready to go.

“The same could be asked of yourself, Doctor.”

She sighed. “My father’s been purposefully keeping him ill. Or at least below a functional baseline.”

“You’re certain?” Ardyn asked like a child giddy about knowing the punchline to an old joke.

“Verstael did the same tests, same treatments, same everything over and over again despite no improvement. There’s only one reason you don’t change up the treatment plan.”

“Because it is working as intended.” Ardyn smiled in that wicked way that made her feel like a small rabbit being eyed by a wolf.

But this rabbit had an understanding with the wolf.

“Exactly. But here’s what I find really interesting.” She looked up from the samples currently shaking at a dizzying rate in the machine. “Whatever was going on, you wanted it to end.”

“Oh do walk me through your process of deduction, Delphia. Your brain is always so intriguing to pick.”

She rolled her eyes. “Cut the shit. You knew I’d see these numbers and figure out what was happening immediately.” She pointed at him accusingly. “When the Emperor gave Father his orders, you made damn sure I was the one who took his place.”

“Who better to take over the father’s work, than the daughter?”

“My graduating class had 44 other young doctors who would have been eager and willing to take up his job and do it unquestioningly. Exactly at his direction, no critical thought or deviation. And you insisted on the one singular doctor who, you knew for a fact, wouldn’t. And that, Ardyn, is the most suspicious thing of all.”

“You do wound me, young one. But all the same please go on, I am on the edge of my seat.”

She considered not continuing, just to piss him off. But she couldn’t resist any opportunity to show off. It was a problem. So on she went.

“Verstael takes pride in his projects, particularly the ones he...made from scratch.” She felt sick, thinking of the thousands of lives just like Prompto. His life was anything but easy, but it was worlds above that of his many, many brothers. “If he was interfering with the prince’s health on purpose, it must be because someone above him told him to. And there’s only one person who could tell him to do anything.”

Ardyn smiled, somehow even wider.

She began the process of sterilizing her instruments, taking her time with each.

“The Emperor wants the Prince to waste away in poor health, hidden from the public and with zero sense of self worth to boot. Which is curious, since the Emperor was the one who commissioned a prince in the first place! Which leads me to believe Iedolas wanted this from the start. So. Why create an heir and then sabotage him?”

“Perhaps because the heir is meant only to act as a symbol.”

“Mmmhmm.” Del had considered as much. Hearing it from the chancellor cemented it. “A means of reminding the people the monarchy is here to stay. But Project Deathless is right around the corner, or so Father claims. And if it comes to fruition, then Iedolas is the monarchy. Forever.”

“Who needs an heir when you never plan to retire?”

“Who needs an heir beloved by the people, capable of leading and inspiring a coupe before you have a chance to gain immortality?”

“In the meantime, the chain of succession is decided by blood.”

“And the snakes in the cabinet can’t finagle their way into increasing power, at least not as easily.”

“Delphia I do love our conversations, not many can keep up quite like you.”

“Like father, like daughter.” She sighed. “So where do you come in, Ardyn? What do you get out of Prompto getting better?”

“Is it not enough to see a poor child suffering, and wishing to see him well again?”

“No, it’s not.” She replied, despite the unsaid implication hanging above them. Once, she was that suffering little child. And he healed her bruises and did what was needed to get her out of that hell hole. But that was a long time ago. And they were both very different now.

Ardyn hummed in response. “I would like to hear the good doctor’s hypothesis before the big reveal.”

She sighed. This man was so exhausting. But he was the only person worth talking to, somehow. “I think it's suspicious because you have no interest in the throne. Well, not this one at least.”

“And…” He smirked, telling her she was on the right track.

“And what a coincidence that our little prince is the same age as Lucis’ little prince.”

“What a coincidence indeed!”

The centrifuge stopped, the samples were ready for testing.

“I think you have a use for him in your little tirade against the Astrals and your brother’s descendants.” She snarled.

“And what use would that be?”

“I don’t know.” Delphia leaned over the workstation, looking Ardyn in the eyes. “But whatever it is you’ve got planned, if it ends with Prompto hurt or dead, I’m putting a stop to it. Now.”

Ardyn clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Now now, Delphia, you wound me.” He clutched his hand over his chest in mock insult. “Such accusations. I know you too well, little finch. The guilt you feel, unable to end your little brothers’ suffering. It tears at your weak, mortal heart. I have brought you to one who may live, and perhaps even prosper, with your guiding hand and sharp mind. I have no intentions of causing the boy further harm.”

Del didn’t believe that for a moment. Not because he was a liar, though he was certainly lying. She knew what lurked through the chancellor’s veins. What was eating him from the inside out, slowly, with every breath he took. It was getting worse, warping him. He was not the same man who befriended her fifteen years ago. Though bits of that man were still in there. And she knew if she just continued to play along, did what she could to keep those bits floating around alive, she’d get that friend back.

She just needed some more time.

---

“Commodore! Fucking finally. I have a request.” Delphia shouted across the courtyard, having finally found the woman after an hour of chasing down lead after lead.

“Interesting way of approaching someone. Mind an introduction first?”

Delphia tempered her knee jerk instinct to say something rude. “My name is Doctor Besithia, I assume you’re familiar with my father?”

“You mean the quack keeping the prince weak and at his mercy?”

Oh, she liked this woman. “Yep. Well, used to. I’m the prince’s personal physician now.”

“You planning on keeping up daddy’s work, Doc?” The Commodore crossed over to her, looking down with suspicion.

“Not quite. I’ve been going over his notes and I think there might be some...room for improvement. But I might need your assistance.”

Aranea shrugged her shoulders. “I’m a bodyguard, not a nurse. When the prince can leave his bedroom then I’ll have a job to do. Until then-”

“That’s exactly why I’m asking for your help, Commodore.” Delphia smiled. “The prince needs to leave his bedroom.”

“Uh huh. But can he?”

“Yes.” Delphia smirked up at the taller woman. “We’ve been working on it for three weeks, but he’s more than ready now. Of course, he’s not supposed to go anywhere without his retainers. Specifically the one that knows how to hit things with a stick.”

Aranea crossed her arms and frowned. “You’re telling me, after less than a month, Prince Shortcake is already improving?”

And this is where Delphia wanted the conversation to be. She needed to know who could be trusted, and who was in on the whole charade. Where did the true loyalties of the prince’s shield lie?

“Yeah. And if he’s going to keep getting better, he needs fresh air and sunlight. Vitamin D doesn’t make itself, you know. So, you ready to get to work, Commodore?”

Aranea studied Del’s face, obviously searching for answers to the same questions.

“Alright, Doc. Show me a miracle, and we’ll have ourselves a casual little stroll.”

Fantastic.

---

“Fifteen minutes.” Del reassured the two of them. “That’s all you need. Fifteen minutes in direct sunlight with bare arms, that’s more than enough time to get your daily dose of Vitamin D.”

Prompto felt like his heart could beat right out of his chest. It’d been so long since he’d left the palace walls. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time. The doctor was on his left, keeping a close eye on him. Most likely observing his physical state while he walked around.

On his right was Aranea, keeping an eye on everyone else in the courtyard. He hadn’t seen her in so long, he almost ran over to hug her before remembering his manners. She’d been like a sister to him when he was younger. But the weariness of the past seven years took just as much of a toll on her as it had on him.

Behind them, a guard was pushing a wheelchair. It was Del’s idea and insistence. “Just in case.” She said gently. “And there’s no shame in needing to use it.”

He might need it sooner than later, as everything around him was becoming overwhelming. The smell of fresh growing flowers, the sun on his face warming his skin, the light chatter of palace staff meandering around, their shoes clicking on the stone below.

It was making him dizzy.

“Yep, alright dude, easy now.” Del took his hand and helped guide him to the waiting wheelchair. “Take a few breaths, let me know what you need.”

Aranea did not look happy. “Is he alright?”

“I’m fine.” Prompto yelped, sitting up straighter. “I’m fine I’m just, it’s...a lot.”

“I bet.” Aranea smirked down at him.

“Are you okay to stay outside a little longer?” Del asked, voice filled with concern.

All of this positive attention was going to make him just about pass out.

“Yes. I’d like to, at least.”

Del smiled and put a hand on his forehead, wiping the hair from his eyes. “Alright, we’ll keep on. Just give me a heads up when you need to go back inside.”

He nodded. Prompto let the guard push him forward, watching little birds flicker through the sky and listening to his doctor and his shield have a not so private conversation between them.

“Well, credit where it’s due, Doc. Guess the Hippocratic oath still means something.”

“So then, about my proposal…”

“Count me in. Shortcake’s long overdue for some combat training.”

“Gradual, structured, short session combat training.”

“Yeah, I got it the first time.”

“With a lot of padded mats and-”

“Doc, you worry about his bone marrow count or whatever it is you do. Let me do my job.”

If he wasn’t already light headed, that would’ve sent him right over. He’d dreamed about getting to swing a sword around or hold a shield just like one of his father’s soldiers. In fact when he was still little and full of energy, he and Aranea would pretend spar with sticks or paper tubes for hours on end.

He’d all but abandoned being able to do that ever again. And now.

Del stopped and turned to look at him, smiling, her green eyes radiating warmth. “How you doing, Prompto?”

Aranea turned, crossing her arms, awaiting his response. And for the first time in forever she wasn’t looking down at him with pity. He hadn’t seen her look so content since they were kids.

Prompto nodded, smiling even wider. “I’m great.”

---

Cor was in complete disbelief. Not for the reason everyone else in the situation room was, oh no. While everyone else was staring mouth agape at the first recorded proof the prince of Niflheim actually existed, he was focused on the young woman walking next to him. The image wasn’t the closest, or clearest, but there was no mistaking.

That was Del Besithia, the six year old shit head daughter of Verstael, who treated an Imperial military research facility like her personal gymnasium. The little girl who called Cor a ‘dumbass’ in many colorful different ways. The kid who was so lonely and so deluded that she truly believed an army of clone babies were her brothers.

He’d tried so hard to get her to trust him, to get one of those babies to him so they could figure out what exactly was going on. In the end, she bailed on him, and Cor went home empty handed save a few photos of babies sleeping suspended in large cylinders.

From the looks of things, one baby did manage to get out though.

Incredible, really. Seeing the two of them standing next to each other, it was so obvious to anyone who knew what to look for. It was so obvious to Cor; the prince was one of those clones. And his ‘sister’ was his personal physician.

She looked happy. And sure, one still photograph couldn’t fill in a 14 year gap. But she was smiling, and with one of them, and she was walking freely outside. She’d told Cor with zero hesitation she knew she was going to die in that facility.

The look on her face when she made that statement had haunted him since. Maybe this one could replace it. She was fine. She was alive and okay.

There wasn't anything else he could’ve done for that kid.

“To be fair, hardly anyone ever saw Iedolas before he took the throne. And by that point he was already greying.”

“And we have no leads on who the mother could be. The lack of resemblance means nothing; the boy wears the Imperial regalia. That’s all the confirmation required.”

“Yes, but what if-?”

“That’s their prince.” Cor finally spoke up, hoping to end the back and forth guessing games. “Looks to be Noctis’ age as well. Prompto Aldercapt. Keep our eyes on him, I want to know his political and moral leanings before he has a chance to use them.”

The meeting adjourned, and his agents filed out. Cor had more business to get to. Training Gladio, overseeing the new recruits orientation, a briefing on the status of the wall, another briefing on the growing demon population…

He took another look at that photograph. Looking at Del smiling down at the prince, both of them looking happy and peaceful. There was something...pulling at him. Like a fist gripping his heart and trying to rip it from his chest. Something felt very wrong, a lingering threat aimed directly at them. Cor couldn’t tell why, but he knew they were in danger, and in spite of his loyalties he felt like he needed to protect those two.

It was a strange impulse, maybe even something of an instinct. He couldn’t place its origin but he had a feeling a cigarette and some sleep would help dispel it.

Or...

---

“So...guns, huh?” Del frowned, watching as the prince shot off another round down the firing range.

“Your prescription of sunshine and lollipops-”

“I didn’t prescribe lollipops-”

“-can only do so much. He’s lacking the coordination for hand to hand combat, and swords wear out his stamina too quickly. A gun is lighter, easier to handle, and keeps him out of reach of more conventional weapons.” Aranea looked very pleased with herself.

“Well...at least he’s wearing ear protection.” He was also standing with a more determined posture than when they’d first met. And his skin was starting to show a little color, freckles not unlike her own dotting his cheeks and shoulders.

“Emperor dropped in yesterday.” Aranea sighed.

Del felt her stomach drop. If the hypothesis she’d shared with Ardyn was anywhere close to correct, this was bad.

“Prince Shortcake shrank in his shadow, like the past few months never even happened.” The shield began chewing on her thumb, furrowing her brow. “Iedolas just grunted, looking as pissy as ever, and walked away. Poor kid. He’s still got a long way to go on that confidence.”

“You’d think the guy would be even a little bit happy his son was getting better.” Del shrugged her shoulders, hoping the anxiety wasn’t evident in her voice.

Aranea narrowed her eyes, studying Del for a moment. “You know, I really don’t get who you think you’re fooling.” She said before turning back around, walking to the prince to continue coaching his form.

Del blinked. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

---

“Like, seriously, what the fuck was that supposed to mean?” She asked, several hours later, pacing in her office while flipping through her notes.

“The mind of the Commodore is a mysterious one.” Ardyn had once again invited himself in, leaning back in her chair, boots resting on her desk. “But little finch, you have not been the most subtle in your intentions. There are whispers, you know…”

“Intentions?” She snapped. “Oh how terrible, I want the prince to not wither away and die in his bedroom at the age of sixteen. What fucking whispers, Ardyn?”

“The daughter of Verstael schemes to make the prince completely reliant upon her, such that when he overthrows his father and takes the throne he will do so at her own whims.”

Del pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache rising up. “I’m getting real fucking sick of politics. It’s like no one can do a single nice thing without having some wicked ulterior motive! It’s bullshit.”

“You have seemingly worked miracles, Delphia, in the eyes of the court.” Ardyn flicked at the brim of his hat to get a better view of her. “That is always suspicious.”

“Miracles. Intentions. All I did was treat my patient. I’m...I just want my brother to be healthy! Any sister would want that, much less one with a medical license. Is that so fucking terrible?!” Del was going to snap. Nothing about anything was ever easy in this godsforsaken hellscape of a country.

Ardyn lifted his eyebrows, eyes flickering to the door, before lifting a finger to his lips.

Del got the message. Someone was listening. And they heard...that. Slowly, quietly, she started to step towards the door. She gestured at Ardyn, asking him to talk so it wasn’t obvious they knew.

“Your heart is pure as always, little finch. But when one is steeped in their own darkness for so long, well…”

Del wrenched the door open and shot her head out, seeing no one but hearing fast paced foot steps.

“Darkness tends to be all one can see.”

She took off, down the long hallway, turning the corner. Nothing, not even a sound of a door. Whoever just heard her stupid ramblings, they got away.

“I did warn you to be careful.” Ardyn said from behind her shoulder.

“Yeah.” Del swallowed hard, catching her breath. “You did.”

---

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doumekiss · 4 years ago

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to the ends of the earth would you follow me (the untamed fanfic)

Xuexiao // T // 1480 words // What if Xue Yang had been raised on the mountain together with Xiao Xingchen ?

Read here or on AO3

On the night Xiao Xingchen left the mountain there was music and food and wishes for happiness and good luck for him.

There were also sad looks from some of the people present to see him go, others looked at him with great apprehension. After all, the last time that one of Baoshan Sanren's disciples had left their little community had been just over two decades earlier, and now their beloved sister was dead instead of walking among them.

Almost everyone who lived on the mountain came to say goodbye. Except one and his absence weighed more than all those who came to wish him well in his travels in the world outside the mountain. And if Xue Yang had shown up, he would not have wished him luck, he would have called him an idiot as he had done for the last month.

Stupid. Naive. Moron. These were just some of the kindest words that Xue Yang had used to describe him since Xiao Xingchen said he was going to go down the mountain and use everything he had learned in his training to make the world a better place.

Xue Yang had only lived seven years outside the mountain, but those seven years were traumatic enough to give him very strong opinions about the world and people outside the mountain in general, and that was that none of them were worth a damn.

And he spent a good part of the last month telling Xiao Xingchen every horrible detail he remembered from his childhood with the hope of dissuading him from going, without realizing that he only increased his wish to go with every word, the world that Xue Yang described was a world that needed to be fixed.

In some ways his desire to leave had started on the day that their master brought Xue Yang there. Baoshan Sanren had a habit of bringing abandoned children to the mountain to be raised and trained by her and her disciples, Xiao Xingchen himself had arrived on the mountain in the same way, before Xue Yang he had been the most recent member of that community, only in his in case he was too young to remember anything from before. He grew up in a serene environment surrounded by support and love. And he remembered seeing that skinny boy all beaten up with his hand swollen and practically and not understanding how it was possible for a child to have been treated that way.

At the time he was nine years old and Baoshan Sanren said that he was already big enough to assist her in treating the boy. And Xiao Xingchen did, he was there while his master was examining the wounds, he was there when she said there was no way to save one of the crushed fingers, and he handed her the instrument to do the operation. But in retrospect the most important thing he did was to stay by Xue Yang's bedside until he woke up.

The boy opened his eyes while Xingchen was changing his bandages as Baoshan Sanren had instructed him to do. After opening his eyes and he moved as if he was trying to escape, and Xiao Xingchen said:

“Don't do that, you're just going to open your wounds again. This is a safe place, I will not hurt you ”

Xue Yang was not the type to trust people, even after years on the mountain he was still suspicious that people had second or third intentions in every good deed done. But that day he trusted him, Xiao Xingchen never understood why.

His feelings for Xue Yang changed a lot over the years, in the first months he saw him as a little brother, as he acted almost as a little puppy following him everywhere, then as his best friend, the person he most liked to train with and the one who most made him laugh. A few years earlier when his feelings for his friend started to go towards a more romantic direction he felt quite guilty, and even after they became lovers the guilt had not completely passed.

He once asked Xue Yang how his own feelings had changed over the years, and Xue Yang said they didn't. That for him it was love at first sight. Xiao Xingchen was not sure if this was a joke or not but he laughed anyway and that night he didn't wish to be anywhere other than his arms.

But not for most of the nights that followed. He loved his family, and he loved the mountain but when he thought about spending his entire life there something inside him felt suffocated. In their last discussion Xue Yang said that he didn't really want to save the world, that he was just bored and that if Xiao Xingchen loved him as much Xue Yang loved him he would stay. And for that Xiao Xingchen had no answer and ran before he did something he regretted like saying "If you love me so much you would go with me", he couldn't ask that from him, not after all the pain that the world outside the mountain had brought to Xue Yang. And the temptation was there, he thought Xue Yang was wrong about him just being bored but he also knew that he was not as pure of heart and intentions as everyone except Xue Yang seemed to think he was.

He also knew that by leaving he would make Xue Yang's life worse. He knew that Xue Yang respected Baoshan Sanren, and had some level of gratitude for her having saved him and for taking off the streets. But he didn't love her like most others did. And that he joked around and trained with the other disciples, but they were not his friends.

Xia Xingchen hugged everyone at the party and then went down the mountain carrying his things, at that moment more melancholic than excited.

After turning a curve he was thrown against a tree. His arm hurt locked behind his back but he smiled, he would know that touch anywhere.

"If this was a real attack you would be dead now" Xue Yang whispered against his ear.

“Good thing it isn't. Or is it? ” he joked.

Xue Yang let go of his arm.

Xiao Xingchen turned to face him, he wanted to touch him, wrap him in his arms for the last time.

"How was your party ?" Xue Yang asked.

“It would have been better if you were there. You would have liked there were many sweet dishes, I asked them to save some for you ”

"Stupid idea"

"Why ?"

Xue Yang kissed him, as he hadn't in weeks and Xiao Xingchen went towards his touch like a starving man. Xue Yang stopped kissing him but he didn't move away, he kept his forehead pressed against Xiao Xingchen's, his hands on his waist.

"I hate you sometimes" Xue Yang said.

"I hope one day you will understand why I have to do this"

"I seriously doubt that"

Xue Yang walked away, went to a rock in the corner and took a bag that Xiao Xingchen had not noticed before.

"Did you pack me another bag?"

Xue Yang looked at him like he was stupid.

“No, this is my own bag. I'm going to need clothes and stuff down there. Because nobody is going to give anything to us without wanting something back. No one."

Xiao Xingchen blinked, not sure if he really understood what was going on.

"You want to go with me ?"

“Wanting is not how I would describe it. But yes, I'm going with you ”

"But is-"

"I already told our master, don't worry"

"And the others ?"

“No one but you and her would even care. Most will just say: Xue Yang? Finally that pest is gone"

"That's not true"

“Even if they didn't, it wouldn't matter”

"So what made you change your mind?"

"I haven't changed my mind. The world is cruel and ugly and does not deserve to be saved. But you are not. And I would have no peace of mind knowing that you are out there where people will want to take advantage of you. So I will be there with you to make sure none of them get a chance to do that "

"I don't know what to say. I know it must have been a difficult decision for you"

"So you are even dumber than you look, it was very easy when I put it like that"

He brought his hand to Xue Yang's face, stroking his cheek.

"You are gonna make me cry"

"As if that was something hard to do. Fucking softie"

Xiao Xingchen smiled and brought his lips to Xue Yang's, completely thankful for that kiss and everything it meant. A kiss from a new beginning, a kiss that preluded a thousand or more kisses yet to come.

#xuexiao #xue yang #xiao xingchen #the untamed #the untamed fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction #fyi this fic was in the giving xue yang nice things list I mentioned earlier #also I think this is the last one of my fics I will translate to english today #sorry for the spam guys I just in the mood for translation and I don't know when will strike again #ok to reblog

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susoftjockau · 5 years ago

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Study Session #8 - Snow

“Snow’s starting,” Connie murmured, peering out the window of their study room. It was big, fluffy flakes for now, but she flicked open the weather app on her phone just in case. There would be a snowstorm in a few hours. The twenty minute walk back to her dorm was going to be chilly for sure, but she should beat the storm home. They only had thirty minutes left in their session, after all. “Let’s go straight to recital. Want to run your physics vocab song?”

“Sure! I was practicing before I came over,” Steven said cheerfully, ripping open his backpack. His hand vanished inside, and his joy slowly turned to a full body cringe as he pulled out a plate. “So, I…”

She giggled. “Packed the plate an put the ukulele in the sink, huh?”

“It was a busy morning,” he said. Steven often had busy mornings. She had thought about asking a few times, but she was just his tutor. It seemed so rude to pry into his personal life, even though with every passing week the boy grew more intriguing. Then, to her surprise, he said, “I sort of have a family business kind of job? Sometimes there’s stuff people rely on me for. I’m sorry if it messes up our sessions sometimes.”

Her heart softened. He really did want to be friends, didn’t he? He was so sweet. She could invite him over, couldn’t she? It would still be work, even if it was in a different location. Even if it was an uncomfortable bit of vulnerability. She cleared her throat and tried to sound casual. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it, but I play violin. If you want, we could finish up in my dorm. I live just down the road.”

“You never mentioned that!” he said eagerly. “I’d love to hear you play!”

She winced slightly as she remembered her last practice where she stumbled over Mozart’s concertos, trying to be better than she was. She was lucky her roommates hadn’t beat down the door to stop her wailing instrument. But Steven’s songs has simple melodies. She could handle that. She smiled and grabbed her things. “You have a car, right?”

He stiffened and laughed. “But it’s so nice! Why don’t we walk?”

In unison, their eyes went to the window, then back to each other. She really should let him sweat, have him think up a better lie, but she sighed and, as she always did, made up the lie for him. “Did someone drop you off today?”

"Yeah! And the guy tends to wander off. He’s a real animal.” He laughed.

Connie stared at him. “I know you think that’s a pun, and I have no idea why.”

Steven chuckled to himself. “Let’s get walking.”

The walk down to her place was a cheerful exchange about how they both were of the pun and wordplay loving variety, with a few brief detours about how the air seemed tense and wondering how bad the storm would get that night, but time moved quick with him, and they were at her home before she knew it.

Her dorm was a townhouse in a row of other townhouses. The balcony upstairs was uncovered and already starting to fill with snow as they hustled inside. The house smelled of a running heater and hot chocolate and marshmallows, and Steven and Connie both moaned. They glanced at one another, and Connie suggested, “One packet of hot chocolate doesn’t take long. And if you make it with soy milk, it’s even got some protein.”

He nodded eagerly. “Hours until the storm, right?”

She checked her phone. Ninety minutes. Thirty minutes of tutoring left. Fifty before the storm. Beach City was a thirty minute drive away. Connie nodded. “You should text your ride in a few to make sure they get here on time. You’ll barely beat the storm back.”

“Will do!” he said with a nervous smile.

There wasn’t time for that bit of weirdness. The occasional packet of hot chocolate was a wonderful luxury. Even her strict mother allowed one every so often, and a snowstorm was the perfect excuse. She made them in the microwave, too lazy to break out a pot for lazybones hot chocolate, and she and Steven sipped on the couch and started talking again. Oh, yes, Carly the cheerleader was one of her roommates. The electric kettle on the counter was Connie’s, because she drank a lot of tea. Was that an espresso machine? Yes. Natalie had apparently gifted it to Carly one year. How rich was she?

When the hot chocolate was done, there was seventy minutes until the storm. How had that happened? Connie ducked into her dorm and grabbed her violin and tried to play quietly in the common room while Steven sang along. As always, Steven had the lyrics memorized, and she was just about to praise him when he said, “The violin sounds so lonely. I’m used to instruments with chords.”

She expected to bristle at a comment like that, but his sincerity only made her want to correct him, to share what she knew. “It’s because you wrote it for chords. If you write a solo piece for the violin, it doesn’t sound lonely at all. I mean, not unless you want it to. The violin is so dynamic and… hold on. Just listen.”

Connie couldn’t do Mozart. Her hands were clumsy and Mozart was hard. But she had memorized Bach’s sonatas for recitals years ago. Cliche, but enough to satisfy her teachers. She was just going to play a few minutes from Sonata 1.

But she played, and Steven gawked. There was nothing critical in his gaze, like a teacher or parent. There was nothing glaze over or bored, like mall patrons or a senior citizen’s home. Steven watched her play like she was a real performer - the way she watched him.

It didn’t make any sense. Steven was good at his instruments. He could snatch a melody from the air, like picking a book from a shelf. His fingers danced across strings like figure skaters winning gold. He sang when he played because both were so easy for him. He played a dozen different instruments with fluency and overwhelming talent. So why would he be impressed?

She played the whole piece. Fifty minutes until the storm, but she didn’t check her phone. She discussed music with him, expressing the finer points of the violin and classical music to his indie rock sensibilities. The snow fell, thicker and harder, and the storm was upgraded to a blizzard, and it wasn’t until the wind began to scream that they noticed how dark it was in the room, because the storm had started half an hour ago.

She peered through the window into blinding white and sighed, “Your ride?”

“I don’t think he’s coming,” he said, without a glance at his phone. “Would anyone care if I crashed on the couch?”

“Ditching you in this weather,” Connie mumbled. Then, after a beat, she looked back at him and teased, “What a beast.”

Steven laughed, and she rolled her eyes and smiled. She had no idea how she was able to be in on a joke she didn’t understand, but Steven was a mystery. He asked again, “So, couch?”

“Of course. Who would put you out in that?” She smiled. “I’ll just let everyone know, then head to my room for some private studying. Just knock if you need anything.” She went to the stairs, then hesitated, wincing a little as she looked back. “I’m sorry I got you stuck.”

He shook his head. “It’s alright. Barely even feels stuck at all.”

- @universallywriting

This brings the Year One study sessions to a close! We’ll have other fic series and more art coming. And this fic specifically leads into another fic, and some art, that we’ll be posting a little later today!

#study sessions #year one #connverse #fic

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years ago

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Take A Picture (Take Two)

A sort of follow up to Take A Picture (hence the title, though I think you’ll get by fine reading this even if you haven’t read that one first.)

Tim and Brian have been together for a bit, but there’s always been that interest in and from Roger. Yet none of them have pushed to act on it, until tonight.

As you may have guessed, there’s mostly smut in this, with a healthy dose of Emotions to balance it out lol.

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“Just come back to ours.”

Roger swallows hard, and Tim can’t help but watch the way his throat moves.

“Yeah, Brian’s right. Come over to ours. There’s always room for you,” Tim adds. He has other reasons for wanting Roger to come over, but he won’t push.

None of them have, for that matter, in the months since he and Brian finally got together. They’ve been formally dating for nearly six months, and moved in together for three, and all the while, the Line that existed between himself and Brian, has now moved to exist between both of them and Roger.

Which has always been there, really, just like it had been between himself and Brian. Roger has always been a flirt with them, but never in such a way that they took it too seriously.

But it’s gotten hotter and heavier and is incredibly obviously not a joke now, and in any case: Tim wants him. Just as badly as he wants Brian every day, in his bed and in his heart and in his life.

He knows it wouldn’t be easy; as it is, as far as their families are concerned, him and Brian are still ‘bachelors’ that just happen to be comfortable living together while ‘waiting for the right one to come along.’

But he doesn’t care if they’d have to hide it. They could do it, three ‘bachelors’ that never do find ‘the one’, that worry their families, but secretly are happy as can be together.

Still, he won’t push.

“It is late,” Roger yawns, leaning against the streetlight outside of the venue. Everything has been packed into the van except the three of them, the only decision left to make as to where they’ll go. They could drive the long distance away to drop Rog off at his mum’s (this is arguably the furthest from home any of them have played so far), then have to drive themselves home too.

Or he could simply come home with them, one trip to warm beds and, if Roger would want, warm and loving arms too.

The issue, Tim figures, is that they aren’t saying what needs to be said. They’re dancing around it, and normally that would be fine, but he’s tired and despite that still horny, and all he wants to do is go home and see if they can get off before falling asleep.

“I want you to come back to ours,” Tim breaks the newly fallen silence. “Brian?”

He knows Brian is well aware of what he’s asking without saying. Even so, he can see Brian fighting off his nervousness to speak honestly.

“I’d like that as well. If you’d want to, Rog.”

Roger looks at them both with a gentle smile. “Not only to sleep though, right?”

Tim isn’t usually one for big motions, anything dramatic, but he’s sick of it now. Bouncing around that Line again, when he knows that stepping over it is likely to lead to happiness (it certainly has with Brian.)

Even so, he gasps a little when he kisses Roger, who moves into the kiss like he’s been waiting for it. Who kisses back in a way that’s unexpected, a little bit desperate and wanting and hungry.

There’s a beat of silence again when he pulls away from Roger, who has his eyes still closed, lips still searching for another taste of Tim’s.

“That’s a hell of a way to convince me,” Roger finally giggles. “Not that I really needed any convincing. I just wanted to be sure you both were comfortable, that you both wanted this, wanted...”

“We do,” Brian interjects awkwardly. “Trust me, we do.”

And there’s everything they haven’t told Roger yet, in those few words. Nights of almost calling him and asking if he’d want to join them for a night, just to see how it goes. To see if it’s passing feelings, or something more serious. Days of wanting to ask him along on little day trips, but not wanting to make things awkward if the invitation implied too much, gave away any hint of ‘this is you being with us as more than friends.’

Roger’s familiar smirk is back. “Then what took you so damned long?”

They break with that, giggling as they climb into the van.

“I’ll keep him busy,” Brian shouts from the first row of back seats, Roger already in his lap. “Do you mind driving, Tim?”

He might have minded, but he doesn’t right now, because he can still peek at the action in the rearview mirror as they go.

Roger, straddling Brian, moaning into his mouth, hips grinding against him like it’s all Roger knows how to do. Brian, hands wandering already (they have an inside joke about that, how his hands move as quickly over Tim in bed as they do over his guitar onstage, that he simply doesn’t know how to move his hands with anything other than passion), alternating between grabbing at Roger’s ass and thighs to disappearing in between them, likely working at zippers and buttons on trousers.

Tim realizes he’s going much too fast, his eyes not focused enough on the road. He tries to calm down, to be mindful of what he’s doing, but it only gets more difficult as the sounds in the backseat get louder.

There’s a detour that he didn’t realize had been put up, that leaves him at a dead end and needing to turn around. But he’s grateful for it, as he turns to peek at Brian and Roger.

Roger doesn’t notice, on his knees, Brian’s cock in his mouth. Brian blushes as he meets Tim’s gaze, but his hand reaches down to gently thread his fingers into Roger’s hair.

“I really wish we lived closer,” Tim mutters, and he smiles when it earns him a laugh from both of them (Roger’s of course rather muffled.)

There’s a slick sound Tim knows is Brian’s cock falling from Roger’s mouth, but he doesn’t look up or cease his working to get the van turned back around in the arguably too-small street, until he feels a hand on his thigh.

“Let Brian drive the rest of the way,” Roger says. “Or let me, and let me watch the two of you.”

“You have to watch the road too; it’s not as easy as it seems,” Tim smiles, though either of those ideas sound absolutely heavenly.

Roger climbs into his lap, a hand reaching down quickly to the gearshift to make sure it’s in park, before he moves it to Tim’s shoulder, then to twine his fingers in Tim’s hair.

He lets his own hands roam under Roger’s jacket and shirt to his hips, legs opening more to give Roger more room to grind down. He can’t imagine what any of the homeowners on this road must think, but he doesn’t really care right now.

“Go in back,” Brian is by them, cock still in his hand, toying with himself. “I can hold off long enough to get us home.”

“And if Tim and I were to take turns at your cock while you drove?” Roger breaks away from Tim to ask. “What about then? Think you could hold off until we get home?”

Tim pulls him back for a hard kiss at that. Home. Not just ‘staying the night’, not ‘a sleep over with friends’. Home. It was a gift to hear that come from Brian, and it’s a gift now to hear it from Roger.

Roger kisses back, but slips off him a moment later and tugs at his hand to bring him to the backseat.

He maneuvers past Brian with a quick but deep kiss, a moment of reassurance for both of them, of ‘yes I still want you but I want this too and I can’t wait to share it all together.’

Before Roger can move, he climbs onto his lap. Roger’s trousers are already undone thanks to Brian, and he anticipates a quick shove past the waistband of Roger’s pants, but there isn’t one.

“Slut,” Tim says it mostly jokingly (truth be told, there are simply some trousers so tight that there’s no way Roger could manage to go anything but commando in them), but with a slight edge that he hopes Rog will like.

The way Roger’s hips buck up to meet his, he knows he’s done well.

“Say that all you like,” Roger teases. “But who’s got his hands down my trousers?”

The teasing drops away into happy sighs and gasps as he palms at Roger, mindful that there’s no lube yet aside from the precome beading at the head of Roger’s cock.

He glances up only once to look back at the front seat; Brian is driving safely as possible, but his eyes burn whenever he catches Tim’s in the mirror, and his tongue slips out over his bottom lip in a way that makes Tim wish there was a way to be in two places at once: working Roger’s cock with his hands and capturing Brian’s tongue with his mouth.

Finally, the van stops.

“I can’t carry both of you and the equipment in on my own,” Brian jokes. “Can we tuck away long enough to get everything inside before we continue?”

He joins Roger in nodding in agreement; the sex will be fun and he’s hoping they might plan for more together after, but the equipment and instruments are expensive and difficult (and in the case of Brian’s guitar, impossible) to replace. Leaving them in the van would be like asking for them to be stolen.

“This is still sexy, yeah?” Roger laughs as they heft crates and instruments up the stairs and into the flat.

“I mean, I get to see your ass every trip,” Tim replies. “That counts for something, I think.”

Finally inside, with nothing left in the van, it seems to have done just that.

Brian is on him immediately, and any fear that Roger feels left out is assuaged when Tim looks over to see him already with his shoes kicked off, undoing and working off his trousers too.

“Don’t look so worried,” Roger smiles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You mean that?” Tim realizes as he asks it he might be killing the mood, but he can’t wait to ask. He’s greedy tonight, maybe, but it can’t be helped. He needs to know this is more than one night.

Roger nods. “Might not be able to move in right away, and I don’t know if that would be too much anyway-”

“You could start slow,” Brian interrupts, removing his lips from Tim’s neck. He gestures them towards the bedroom, and leads the way. “Stay with us some days, move things over here as you like. It doesn’t have to be all at once. I think what Tim is trying to ask beyond that, is...do you want this? Us? Like we’ve got each other, I mean, like-”

“Boyfriends?” Roger smiles so fondly it breaks Tim’s heart. For all his bluster and showiness, there’s an absolutely dear heart underneath it all. “Yeah. That’s what I want. If you’ll have me.”

“Of course we will,” Tim laughs. “Am I an ass if I say we took too long to get here? To finally making this happen?”

“No,” Roger replies as he tosses off his jacket and shirt, and falls into their bed as if there’s nowhere else that he would belong. “I’ve been getting off thinking about the two of you for...”

He blushes. “Longer than I should probably admit to, actually.”

“No shame,” Brian says, his own clothes joining Roger’s on the floor. “What do you think we’ve been doing? Hell, we’ve got a dildo we named after you, since we couldn’t actually have you.”

Roger loses it, laughing hard, and it’s a gorgeous sound to hear as Tim strips and joins the two of them in the bed.

“A dildo?!” Roger is red in the face, tears streaming. “My god. You did that, rather than just asking me to be with you two?”

“In our defense,” Tim giggles. “It is a really lovely dildo. Though I’m sure not as good as you.”

“How about I prove that?” Roger wipes away the last few tears and grins.

It’s an awkward few moments, but that’s expected and forgivable. Working out who wants to fuck who, how they’re all most comfortable, getting condoms and lube from the bedside table prepared.

He ends up on his back, with Roger slipping inside of him, and Brian inside of Roger.

“Though you know, your back is going to hurt sooner rather than later,” Roger murmurs to Brian. “Tell us, and we can readjust.”

“He’s right,” Tim adds, though focusing on anything else other than the feeling of Roger inside of him is a true task. “Don’t be shy, say if you’re hurting, alright?”

“If I do, will you two let us get started?” Brian laughs, laying against Roger, his head dipping down to press kisses to Roger’s back and neck.

“I didn’t peg him as the impatient one,” Roger smiles.

“I’m plenty impatient too,” Tim sighs, and moves his hands to Roger’s hips, trying to urge him into movement.

That takes another moment as well, working out how best to move with each other. But it’s only a moment, and then it’s wonderful.

He gets to see Brian, eyes closed, thrusting into Roger with soft little happy gasps and moans.

And Roger.

Roger is completely blissed out, moving gently within Tim to time up with Brian’s thrusts into him, letting out the sweetest little whines and moans.

His head drops to Tim’s shoulder, and Tim can’t help but wrap his arms around him. “If it’s too much...”

“’m good,” Roger almost pants it out as he lifts his head again. “I love you both.”

“Just for this?” Brian giggles in between kisses to Roger’s back.

“No,” Roger shakes his head, biting back a moan that Tim can still hear in his throat. “For everything. This, and everything else. I mean...fuck.”

“Hard to have a serious conversation like this, isn’t it?” Tim has to laugh, even as he reaches a hand down to his cock to jerk himself off. He’s too close to not touch himself now.

“You do know what I’m getting at though, yeah?” Roger whines, and kisses him hard. “I love you both because I know you love me. Because you want me like this, but you want me just as much as a bandmate, as a boyfriend, in every w-”

Roger dissolves into moans and groans as he comes, cock as deep in Tim as it can be.

“You’re adorable,” Tim mutters, but Roger just bats away his hand from his cock, and takes over. “And a gentleman.”

“I try,” Roger mumbles, all happy soft smiles and kisses to Tim’s neck and chest as he strokes Tim’s cock, fingers tracing over the head to make him jump.

Brian isn’t always loud when he comes, this is one of those times. He’s bent over Roger, head pressed against his back, hips jerking erratically, but otherwise silent except for a few choked whimpers.

“You good?” Tim asks him, and Brian lifts his head to offer a gorgeous grin. “Good.”

“Brian; I’ve got an idea,” Roger says. “You’ve got to get out of me first though.”

Brian giggles and moves away long enough to get rid of the used condom on his cock, taking Rog’s as well when he hands it over.

“Alright,” Roger says, and gives Tim a smile. “You stay right there, and just let us take care of the rest.”

He lays at one side, Brian takes his cue and lays at the other, and Tim knows in a heartbeat what they’re intending.

“I’m gonna warn you now, I’m close. With both of you-”

“I know,” Roger interrupts. “Let me ask you now: after you come, can we keep going? If it gets to be too much, you just tap our shoulders?”

Tim nods and enjoys the sight at his hips. Brian and Roger leaned on him, licking and sucking at his cock, taking turns moaning with their lips around it. It’s ridiculous and overwhelming and he’s loving every second of it.

When he comes, he expects them to move away, but they don’t. They both laugh and jump when the first few drops splatter them, but neither of them moves.

And true to Roger’s words, they don’t stop after he’s come. They take turns, lapping gently at his oversensitive cock, and without intending it, he finds his cock jumping again. The orgasm is dry, but it feels as good as the first.

They’re gone for moment after, cleaning themselves up, and he doesn’t stop Brian from doing the same for him as he lays there, still all jelly in his limbs.

Best is when they’re back, and Tim can snuggle them into his arms.

For awhile, it’s quiet. Only their breathing and the sensation of bare skin on skin.

“So,” Roger breaks it. “If we’re going to do this, and have me eventually move in...could we start now, with my drums staying here? And me, until I need to go pick things up from home, clothes and whatnot...” “You don’t even have to ask,” Tim replies with a kiss to the top of Roger’s head.

Brian nods. “You and your things are always welcome here. We’re excited to finally have you.”

“I’m excited to have you too,” Roger almost whispers it.

All Tim can think to himself is that they waited much too long for this. For this happiness.

#text post #LeeH writes #Smile band fic #brian may x tim staffell x roger taylor #I love this smut but also it took me all day to write lmaoo

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quillfulwriter · 5 years ago

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The Distraction: FFXV Iggy’s Birthday Fic

Prompto's in on a surprise party for Ignis, and he's been tasked with being the distraction. It's harder than he thought, but he won't let the guys down! (Forgive the Promnis vibes, I'm trash for them.)

Words: 3073 words (10-25 minutes) | Chocobros

This was it, the big day for their surprise party for Specs... Prompto was in charge of being a distraction, probably the hardest job of the whole thing. He tried telling the others that, but they swore up and down that he could do it, no problem. Riding in the passenger seat next to Iggy like usual, Prompto figured out that was probably because they didn’t wanna do it. Not ‘cause hanging with Iggy was bad or anything, but keeping him distracted when he was designed for laser-like focus was gonna be the hardest thing he’s ever done in his life.

He convinced Ignis to take him along to the Crown City mall half by saying he wanted to check out some places and half by saying he should learn what Ignis does for Noct, so he could be a backup if he needs it. And that only worked by stocking up Iggy points with little favors to make his job easier. Y’know, to prove he could be a good backup!

Which was kinda part of his day-to-day anyway. Iggy worked so hard doing stuff for them all the time, and Gladio and Noct didn’t really do that whole ‘helping with dinner’ thing. But hey, that’s what made it such a good cover story!

“We’ve arrived,” Ignis announced and the doors automatically locked once he put the car in park. The morning sun gave a little extra warmth to the winter air, but he couldn’t complain about the cold when it meant Ignis broke out his sharp, double-breasted wool peacoat. All his friends were supermodels, but he had to give it to Ig, he looked extra good dressed for cold weather. Like the Six knew it when they set his birthday in stone.

“Gotcha,” Prompto answered, springing out of the car with his camera around his neck. Just in case! Never know when you’ll see a shot you just got to take, and it was a great reason to draw out their trip if he had to. Ignis always stopped to wait when Prompto wanted to take pictures, and he was pretty patient about it too.

And really, Prompto was banking on that. They still had to decorate, put the gifts together, make a cake… And they hadn’t even started wrapping yet. Leaving all that to Noct and the big guy felt like a recipe for disaster, but all he could do now was his part. Going at a light jog to keep up with Iggy’s longer, purposeful stride, Prompto followed him into the Crown City mall.

“So! What’s our first stop?” There wasn’t much of a crowd, since it was mid-week. No luck there. Just made Prompto think about how he wished there was more color in their uniform.

“We’ll be visiting just the one shop: a specialty dining store,” Ignis answered and led the way. “There are certain cooking instruments designed for the road that will prove essential on our journey.”

“Hey, Iggy!” Prompto raced ahead of him, eager to get started ‘cause this was gonna eat up hours. …Okay, maybe one hour. For his first distraction, Prompto picked up a cup-like thing with a little curve for pouring, some weird plunger thing, and measuring lines on the side. Turning around with a bounce in his step, he showed the tool to Ignis. “What’s this gadget do?”

“Hm?” Ignis strode over to the table Prompto picked out. Even here, he did the driving and pushed the cart along too. There was a lotta stuff here he didn’t recognize, so Prompto had plenty of ammo to keep his attention. “Ah, that is a milk frother, primarily used for lattes and other such beverages where foam is a key part of the experience.”

“Right, right. Y’know, I’ve never had a latte.” He put the frother down by the others, twisting it so it’d match its family of frothers before he took off after Ignis. “Think you could use it in hot chocolate?”

“You certainly can. I’ll show you sometime.” Ignis had a hint of a smile as he wound artfully through the rows and rows of cooking stuff that was either high-end normal stuff or specialty stuff.

“That’d be real sweet of you,” Prompto shot back a pun, giggling while he followed after Ignis.

Maybe if he wasn’t so caught up looking at grills, Iggy might’ve given as good as he got. Probably better, he did a lot more reading than Prom and that gave him more material to work with. Comparing little portable grills to each other with wordless hums and silent notetaking on his phone, Prompto was pretty sure he could do a dance and get nothing from the royal advisor. Or just a quick glance, anyway.

“Hey, uh, Igster,” Prompto ventured an interruption when he looked just about done. “Isn’t this thing just a slab of salt?” He held up a swirled dark and light pink rectangle about two or three inches thick labelled with just ‘mineral salt block’ on the side.

“It is far more than that.” Ignis finished up a note on his phone, picking up a boxed version of the grill he settled on and put it in the cart. “That is for grilling or stovetop cooking for the right stove, and it imparts a lightly salty flavor with the various health benefits of its mineral composition to—” Ignis sighed, picking up on the overwhelmed look on Prompto’s face. Probably. “It’s good for the food and for those who eat it.”

“Ah, gotcha. So Noct’d hate it, huh? Too healthy.” He put the block down, smiling at Ignis’ laugh.

“It doesn’t feature the same textural concerns Noct has with beans, but… I suspect you may be correct.”

Of course Prom got a text right then, and he hoped it was Gladio or Noct saying everything was fine and ready to go. Pulling his phone out of his pocket with only a little extra flair, he brought up the message from Noctis.

Need more time.

Only one way to answer that. Tossing in an exasperated emoji, he sent back just what he thought of that.

y tho

And the picture he got from Noct was so depressing, it was truly a loss for mankind. What was once gold cake was a bit more brown-and-black-ish, and big chunks of it were still stuck on the pan while the rest was somewhere off-frame. Uh, he hoped.

Noooooct

Thank Gladio.

smh how much time u need

A few seconds turned to a minute and Prompto kept checking his screen every few minutes before Ignis finally spoke up.

“Prompto, do pay attention,” he advised.

“Right, gotcha.” Pockets his phone for the last time. Left on read by Noct! If it wasn’t for Iggy’s birthday, he’d be in for a parade of emojis until Prompto got an answer. Or maybe not, but it sounded kinda fun to do. Trotting to catch up to Ignis again, he started up conversation. “So, you do all this by yourself?”

“Typically, yes,” he answered, though he sounded pleased rather than put out. Even looked the part smirking like that when he pushed up his glasses. “Gladio has little patience for it and Noctis has other responsibilities. It’s only natural this should be entrusted to me.”

“Yeah, but on your birthday?” Oops. He was so not supposed to say that, and Prompto’s stilted laugh when he figured out his slip-up didn’t do anything to throw Ignis off his scent. He even stopped to look at Prompto, examining him for answers. Or maybe it just felt like that and Prompto was worrying too much! He just to chill like Noct said to. Yeah, just… chill.

“I didn’t realize you knew.”

“Yeah, well, y’know.” Crap, he was very un-chill right now. Prompto shrugged, eyeing the shelves next to him for a way out of this conversation. “Noct brought it up, and I guess it stuck.” Gotta find a distraction and quick. It’d just buy time, Iggy’d never forget a slip-up like that, but time was all he needed. Prompto snatched up a waffle iron at the end of a really long stick from a display by the camping stuff. “Oh em gee, check this out! Waffles at camp, can you imagine?”

“If you’re willing to make them one at a time,” he teased with that slight smile, turning back to push the cart ahead. That’s right, Iggy, focus on the to-do list and forget that little blunder from Prompto.

“Aw, I’d never keep up with the big guy,” he mourned, dejectedly returning the specialty cookware to its box and catching up to the birthday guy again.

“Indeed not.”

After gathering the rest of their supplies in preparation for the coming trip in the warmer weather, Ignis checked off the final item in his phone.

“And that concludes our shopping for the time being.” The cart was expertly packed just so everything fit in and was even sorted for putting on the belt in an orderly fashion at checkout. Seriously, Ignis’ brain should be melting from all the stuff he thought ahead on. But Prompto was keeping up with him for now, anyway—maybe he really could be halfway-decent at this back-up thing.

“Really? You do a ton, but you really make it look easy. And that’s not just flattery to distract you, I mean it!” Dammit, he was getting bad at this. Thankfully, Ignis pretended not to notice it. Probably. He doubted he really didn’t realize. Ignis, miss something? Next, it’d rain ice cream!

“I should thank you.” With the last item rung through checkout (Prompto didn’t even dare to look at the total), it was as good a time as any, but so weird. Yeah, Prompto got it, he’d do the same if he were Iggy, but… He laughed, shrugging it off. Like always, Ignis kept going undaunted. “As much as I don’t anticipate I’ll need a substitute for my duty to Noctis, it never hurts to be prepared.”

“Hey, uh. No problem! Least I can do, really.” Prompto was spared being even more awkward somehow when Ignis gave his attention to checkout. Plus, it got him a second to text Noct without spectacles maybe seeing what he was up to if he didn’t figure it out yet.

omw home

Not yet.

Prompto let out a groan, slumping in defeat. The shopping trip was over, Noct! What now?

“Stocking the cart might go more smoothly if your hands were free.” Uh oh, that was the informative warning tone. Ignis was audio-coded to hint at what he was thinking and Prompto was getting a code yellow.

“Uh, right.” Putting his phone away, he helped moved the grill and cooking stuff he didn’t exactly recognize into the cart. They were almost done and Prompto blurted out his only idea before he had a chance to think about it enough to stop. “Actually, wanna go someplace cool after this?”

“Pardon?”

“Y’know, ‘cause it’s your birthday! There’s guys who can take this stuff back to the castle, yeah?” He really hoped Ignis would buy this. He couldn’t be the one who screwed up and ruined the surprise, the guys were counting on him! “Isn’t there a place you’ve always wanted to check out, but never got to?”

“Not especially,” Ignis answered after a brief pause. That mildly wide-eyed look was way too caught off guard… Could it be Iggy never thought about stuff he wanted to do before? Seriously? Prompto wanted to not believe it, but with all the stuff he’s always doing for everyone else under the sun, it’s, y’know… Possible. If not super likely.

“Then I’ll show you around. C’mon, it’s just one day, not even. Two hours.” Ignis pulled the cart to the side and out of the way, which wasn’t a yes but it wasn’t a no yet either. He could still get away with this! Prompto flashed the smile that usually worked on Noct, tossing in an eager bounce to cover his bases. “Birthday trip? Birthday trip!”

“There’s snow outside, Prompto.” This answer was just a little bit weaker, not reinforced with the typical Ignis brand crisp certainty that came with every sentence. And what kinda sharpshooter would he be if he didn’t take this opening?

“So? We’ve got boots.” Prompto bent his knee and held one foot up like he needed to demonstrate. Paired with the grin, he could tell—he was winning this round.

“I have to return to the castle for dinner preparation.” Ignis’ gaze darted to the shop windows and the city guard posted outside. The ones that could take all this back to the castle for them and buy the guys some time before Iggy came back.

“How’s this—you go on the birthday trip you so deserve, let me take a couple cool shoots to remember it by, and I’ll help make dinner.” He offered his hand to Ignis, leaning into his field of vision to get his attention. “Deal?”

With a sigh and a signal the guards outside, Ignis gave in. “Very well.”

“Woohoo! You’re not gonna regret it.”

-----------

After their side trip, they had to get someone to give them a ride and man, was it weird to have Ignis riding in the back seat of a car next to Prompto in calm quiet. Not a bad, awkward quiet—he was so used to those—but chill. He was usually in front too so Gladio could get the extra leg room, so at least being next to Iggy was just like always. Prompto dug out his phone again, sending one last warning text. They’d gotten another hour or hour and a half outta this, he hoped they figured it out.

omw 4 real

“When you said cool pictures, I hadn’t thought you meant literally on the ice.” Ignis only just glanced his way, his face still slightly red from spending time in the cold February air.

“Hey, that pond is a prime photo op!” He slipped his phone into his pocket, swapping it out for his camera. “Check it out,” he offered, bringing up a photo of Ignis in the light, warm glow of the late afternoon winter sun glittering off the ice, a faint plume of his breath in front of him and a delicate blush to his cheeks. Say what you want about the royal advisor, but it’d better be a compliment—he was gorgeous. “My best one yet.”

“Oh, so you collect them?”

“Ah, well, y’see, I—” Shoot. The car was slowing down and he caught a peek of the castle entrance. Thank the Six! “I take pictures of all you guys, yeah? Hey, look, we’re here!” Shuffling out his side, half-stumbling out, Prompto fled to safety. Almost over, this was the home stretch!

-----------

“They keep falling!”

“And whose fault is that?” Familiar voices reached Ignis and Prompto as they worked their way back to one of the smaller, casual family dining rooms in the castle.

“The tape.” Ah, classic Noct. Ignis turned to Prompto with a questioning brow and he just smiled back, nodding him to go first. Nothing left to hide now! Ignis pulled the door open and stepped into the room, which… kinda looked like elementary schoolers decorated it, but hey. Not everyone was a perfect party coordinator like Iggy.

“Gladio? Noctis.” Was that disbelief or patient warnings at the sight of lopsided streamers hanging all the way over to Noctis, who stood on a chair taping the last corner up. For the millionth time, from the sounds of it. Mostly decently wrapped presents sat on one end of the elegant dining table and at the other were three whole separate two-layer cakes and enough fancy takeout for a family of six. “What is…?”

“Happy birthday, Specs,” Noctis said, smiling as he stepped down from the chair and came over with Gladio.

“Didn’t think we forgot, did you?” Gladio clapped his hand on Ignis’ shoulder, his too-perfect smile coming as naturally as ever. Maybe a little more, even.

“I… Suppose this was what the escapades were all about,” he remarked, glancing back at Prompto.

“Whoa, three cakes?!” Gotta change that subject, Ignis, they didn’t know about any escapades! It was just supposed to be errands. But it was their fault he had to draw it out, wasn’t it? Chill, Prompto—chill. “All this food… I’m just gonna have to run more tomorrow.”

“After running around all day today too,” Gladio joked, thankfully getting the hint. Probably.

“What’s this about escapades?” Noct was not so merciful, and that is why Gladio got all the ladies, Prompto thought to himself. Okay, yeah, it was always great to see him smile, just—not at Prompto’s expense!

“Hey, you guys told me to keep him busy!”

“And you did very well. I haven’t been ice skating since Noctis was a boy and that pond was rather scenic.” Ignis to the rescue even on his birthday, what a saint. He did fall into a thoughtful silence, looking like he was trying to find life’s answers in the present pile. “Though I had figured you out by then, of course. I am curious why you kept me preoccupied for so much longer than necessary.”

“Gladio wrecked the cake.”

“Okay, Princess,” he dismissed. “Told you to set the timer.”

“And I told you I was busy.”

“Never heard you.”

“Getting old already,” Noctis said like he was in mourning, giving as good as he got and ducking out of a headlock from Gladio by just a hair. He’d better be faster than Gladio after all that childhood of training with him.

“Regardless of the kitchen mishaps I’ll contend with later,” Ignis got their attention back. “Thank you. I admit, I am at a loss for what else I might say.”

“No big deal,” Noctis answered, obviously proud of himself. “You could start by having dinner. I’m dying to try these skewers,” he suggested, leading the way to the meal.

“Speaking of that, I do believe Prompto owes me a standing offer to help with dinner.” Ignis picked up his own plate and shot Prompto a smile. “An awfully easy suggestion when you know there’s takeout on the table, hm?”

“You don’t have to resort to birthday blackmail, dude. I got your back,” Prompto promised. And snagged a plate of his own, he had to get to this food before the big guy got it all. “Still, though. Uh, happy birthday, Ignis.”

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purplesurveys · 5 years ago

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718

If you lived in Bikini Bottom, would you befriend Spongebob or Plankton? Obviously Spongebob. I’m there to have a good time and catch jellyfish, not eat holographic meatloaf and make it my life’s goal to steal a secret formula. Do you have any bananas in your house right now? I think we still have some left. My dad bought a pack? a group? a bunch? of them so he can make banana cue and turon for my mom and sister while we’re all stuck at home for the meantime. Which overrated tattoo are you sick of seeing? Eh I don’t judge this easily since I assume tattoos mean a lot to people but where I’m from, line tattoos are pretty overused. They DO look nice and I get why they’ve been trending for a while, but yeah they’re evvvvvverywhere. Is it easy to distract you? Yes haha I have a rather quick attention span. Do you prefer to drink from glasses or mugs? Depends on the drink. I drink my water from a glass but I prefer my coffee in a mug, that sort of thing.

What was the last thing you taught a younger kid? I don’t feel confident teaching kids just yet, huhu. It usually works the other way around: when I’m with kids, they teach me how to play their toys or whatever game they’re playing on their parents’ phone/iPad. Are the clocks in your house mostly digital or analog? We only have one analog clock. We mostly tell the time from our phones. How long have you had your television(s)? Answered this before but we have two TVs that are 12 years old and two others that were bought within the last decade. Do you like watching movies made with CGI or do you prefer hand-drawn ones? I don’t care. As long as the end product is done well I can enjoy the movie. Where did your parents buy their car(s)? I know for sure the two family cars were bought directly from the official dealers. I think mine was a secondhand one. Do you know why your grandparents chose your mother's name? No. I think they just liked the name. That makes me want to ask my grandma though. What is your favourite kind of soup? Miso is the only one I really like. Have you ever made your own musical instrument? Nope. What do you think of Leighton Meester's singing voice? I only know one song of hers and I reeeeeally loved that when it came out, but I don’t think it’s enough for me to have an opinion for her music altogether. I definitely don’t hate her voice though. Do you think you'd do well at teaching the English language to a foreigner? Yeah, it’s my other everyday language and I’m a little bit more fluent in it than I am in Filipino. How long have your neighbours lived there? About the same time as us, I think. We all moved in at sort of the same time when the village was newly developed. Is it weird to hear your name in movies or TV shows? It’s not a very common name so it does feel a bit weird to hear, yes. It’s weirder if I have to refer to the character in third person cause I never liked saying my own name :/ Why do so many people seem to hate the Jonas Brothers? Am assuming this refers to the Jonas Brothers pre-reunion because I’m sure no one hates them and their new music now lmao. I think, simply put, it was because they were teenagers then, and pre-teen and teenage girls was their main fanbase? Most people liked to shit on that category of celebrities, even today – case in point, Justin Bieber, 5SOS, One Direction haha. What is a store you like that is exclusive to your country? Fully Booked! It’s the most complete, up-to-date, and chic bookstore brand we have. The Fully Booked branch in BGC in particular is a partnership with Starbucks, so you can immediately walk over there to get a coffee and read after buying a book heh. If you attend school, what time do you usually get home after? I always have extracurriculars like org stuff, meetings, or fieldwork after my academic schedule so more often than not I’ll get home by 9 or 10 PM, which leaves me feeling exhausted as fuck at the end of the day. When was the last time you really needed to just let loose? Like two weeks ago? I was bored out of my mind being stuck at home so I chugged a lot of soju that I asked my dad to buy so I can at least be drunk while being bored lol. Have you ever been blackmailed? Kinda. There was a time when I didn’t talk to my sister and didn’t really feel well enough to reconcile with her yet, but my mom threatened to go to our class guidance counselor and expose me and ‘the kind of older sister I am’ if I didn’t make amends with my sister immediately.

This might sound sarcastic but thanks, survey, for reminding me what kind of mom my mother actually was during the years that were the most critical to my development lmao. I always need reminders like this because despite how our relationship has ‘improved’ now that I’m older, I shouldn’t forget the trauma she caused me and the fact that I had always planned to detach myself from her as much as possible once I’m fully independent. I can’t disappoint my younger self by keeping her in my life as if nothing happened.

Do you suffer from Restless Leg Syndrome? No. I keep forgetting what that means. Would you rather have novels based on your life or a series of comic books? Novels, so I’d be more interested to read it. Have you written a resume before, either for yourself or someone else? I did a resumé when I applied for my internship. Did you know that they plan on releasing a movie based on The Smurfs? This survey is sooooooo old hah they’ve made a bunch of films on it already. Do you ever wonder what it would be like to live underwater? Not really. Mostly I’ve just wondered what it would be like to be a creature from the deep sea, where it’s totally dark and most of the animals there look prehistoric as fuck lol. Have you ever worked in a bakery? If not, would you like to? No but this question reminded me of Harry Styles, aw :’) ANYWAY if I did I’d probably take up a job in the office, since I can neither bake nor deal with people on a regular basis even if one argues that bakeries aren’t really particular spots for angry Karens or Barbaras. What is your favourite thing about snow? I like that we don’t get them because it’s bound to make my first encounter with snow in the future magical as fuck. Is there a big personality difference between you and your sibling(s)? Yeah. I tend to adapt to new environments way better than they do and I’m definitely the most extroverted of the three in all aspects. Do you enjoy decorating things with stickers? Hahahah yes, it’s an uncontrollable urge. I keep my stickers to just my laptop case these days, but back then I used to put stickers on my phone case, my ID case, clipboard, wallet, etc. Did you lose anything recently? Did you end up finding it? I lose my hair tie every now and then; my hair’s a bit short for a ponytail now so my hair tie gradually slips out my hair with me barely noticing it, so it always ends up in random places around the house. I do end up finding it after a while but it gets frustrating whenever I realize it had fallen off again. What colour oven mitts do you have? We don’t really use the oven so we barely use the ones we have. I don’t even know the color of it.

Why do you/don't you watch award shows? Because there are sooo many commercials in the middle of it, some presenters are awkward as fuck and I’d rather save myself from the secondhand cringe, and most of the time the choices for the winners are undeserving and end up pissing everyone off. It’s always easier to just wait a few hours and check the results on Google; and besides, the only fun parts are seeing what everyone is wearing and who attends to begin with hah. What do you think of Ellen DeGeneres as the new judge on American Idol? God this was a lifetime ago. I think I mostly didn’t mind it but I never did get over the replacement of the OGs Randy, Simon, and Paula. Do you ever do the exercises featured in some magazines? No. Have you ever watched What The Buck? What do you think of it? I don’t think I’ve heard of that. How long ago did you switch from cable to satellite, if you did? We didn’t make a ‘switch,’ per se. We had cable in our old home but when we moved to our current house in 2008, having extra channels wasn’t really the priority as moving already entailed a whole lot of expenses to begin with. That meant we only had free TV for a while which was extremely fucking boring, but eventually my dad got us satellite in like 2011 or 2012. When was the last time you partnered up with someone to complete something? I decided to partner up with Andrew for my undergraduate thesis in like August last year. Do you consider Lady GaGa's appearance artistic, or just plain weird? Artistic. What do you usually do when you have trouble sleeping? I put a lengthy YouTube video on so I can fall asleep to the background noise. At least that’s what I do these days - I always thought I needed complete silence to fall asleep, but apparently that’s not the absolute case. What was the last thing you used scissors for? I opened a sachet of 3-in-1 coffee.

Have you ever used some kind of food as a facial mask? Nah I always just use Korean sheet masks. How many USB cords do you have lying around? I personally don’t have any but I do have a hard drive. Are you satisfied with your social life (or lack thereof)? I’m very satisfied with it and I’m glad I got to open up in college. Do you know anybody whose initials spell something? Sure. What is your favourite flavour of Kool-Aid? I’ve never had Kool-Aid. Is there a specific food you think NEEDS to be at Christmas dinner? My grandma’s steak. Would you be able to re-string a guitar? I wouldn’t even know where to buy guitar strings. What TV show do you just assume you wouldn't like? How I Met Your Mother, just because their fans love to make fun of and compare their oh-so-great show to Friends so much when I’ve never seen a single Friends fan make fun of HIMYM like ????? Why the one-sided, unsolicited hate??? I was always planning to watch the show and appreciate Friends and HIMYM at the same time but because the fans are so pathetic I just stopped wanting to watch it altogether. Do your friends have more money than you? Seems unfair to pit ourselves against one another when we’re all still depending on our parents’ money lmao. Who always has the power to make you feel intimidated? Ate Frances has always had a very strong personality. Do you have more bread or cheese in your house? Bread. What was the last movie trailer you saw? Not sure. I don’t really like trailers since most of them give away too much of the plots already. Did you purchase any meat product when you were at the store last? My dad did. Have you ever been told that you have chubby cheeks? Well I don’t, so no I’m not usually told this lol. Do you know how to properly use a saw? Nope. Isn't it a shame that what Kanye West did at the VMA's overshadowed what was supposed to be a night dedicated to Michael Jackson? Hahahaha not really, I found it hilarious and so so stupid. There were a billion other tributes to MJ that year that went smoothly so it doesn’t really matter to me if the 2009 VMAs will always be known as the Imma-let-you-finish VMAs.

#survey #surveys

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ransulance · 4 years ago

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The Diary of Lucas Wraith

I have decided to write a summarized version of my life in case something happens. If I went into detail I might as well write a book series. I was born August 7, 1400, at least that what the priests told me. I was left at a monastery as a baby in Ireland with a letter, I never read it but the long and sort of it was to beware of a vampire and to keep me safe. At the time it sounded like nonsense.

For a while I grew up just like anyone else. But as I got older something happened that changed everything. Demons attacked the monastery looking for something. The next day I overheard a priest saying that they were after me. That night I decided to sneak out and run, I wasn't going to put everyone in danger because of me. I lived on the run going from village to village. Between bandits and demons still looking for me I had to learn how to fight to survive.

After a few months I ran into a group of knights being attacked by a few demons. Three of them were taken out easily. Without thinking I charged in and killed the bigger of the demons making the smaller ones scatter into the forest. That's how I met a the first of many lords I would met, Lord Marcus Irunhearth. He was impressed by what I did he took me in. He had the priests in his fort teach me to read and write while he taught me how to be a kinght.

Once again though, something happened that made this life change. When I reached the age of 18 I felt a change in my body. Wish that was the only thing that changed but whenever I smelled blood I grew hungry. I asked the priest about what it could be and that is when I learned what I was. I was a dhampir, half human and half vampire all the strengths but none of the weaknesses. But I consider the need to feed on blood a weakness. But then Marcus told me about what he did to become a lord. He was a demon hunter and wasn't surprised about what I was. He advised that I joined him into go to Jerusalem to fight in the crusades. He heard reports of demons in the holy land and was summoned to stop them. He taught me how my vampire half worked, the more blood I consumed the more skills I learn from the source and the more powerful I become. I told him how I didn't like the sound of that at all and he assured me that it wasn't a bad thing to not want to, but if I wanted to survive it was something I'd have to do.

We arrived in Jerusalem and it was hell. Innocents dead, knights wounded and villages burned. I tried keeping the thirst in check as to not cause trouble. Marcus was there to help me and I grew to see him as a father. After three nights of hunting demons we found the one controlling them and man in black armor. We made a plan of attack and everything went well until we were face to face with him. Even woth my growing strength and Marcus's skill we were no match. In the end Marcus lost his life having charged the man only to be impaled. He was able to knock off his helmet and under it was a face that looked a lot like me except older qnd much more cold. After removing his sword from Marcus's torso he looked at me smiling and vanished.

I ran over to Marcus and as he laid dying in my arms he told me to drink hus blood. I would learn the other skills needed to be a hunter and to hunt down his killer. I felt forced into this but I knew it had to be done. I drink his blood and the knowledge and skills that flooded my mind were intoxicating. I stayed in Jerusalem fighting in the crusades and hunting Marcus's killer. I arrived in Jerusalem at the age of 18, but it wasn't until I was 25 that I realized I stopped aging. I also learned quickly that it's not just skills that I learn from drinking blood but languages as well and how someone thinks. Because of that I learned the one that killed Marcus wasn't in Jerusalem anymore and for some reason headed east.

I decided to sell my armor and made my way east. I made a living using my skills, and one I learned with my "gift", the skills I learned from others. The more I drink the more I learned but the more I hated what I was. Now matter how far I traveled my prey was always far ahead of me until the winter of 1499 that I learned he was in Japan working through proxies. After two years of traveling I finally arrived in Japan but not matter who's blood I drank or how many demons I killed I couldn't find him. I had built myself a home in some woods in the center of the island and laid in waiting for something to come up. That's went I met a very interesting man and his right hand a "monkey."

Apparently I became a legend since my arrival there. A foreign "Oni" that looked human but fought like a monster, slaying man and demon alike. That legend made a certain man curious and he wanted to find this creature, Nobunaga Oda. As for his "monkey" that was Tokichiro, that guy was just a ball full of energy. Nobunaga wanted to test me so he challenged me to a sparring match. This guy was as human as could be but he was no push over. After letting the fight end in a draw he could tell I held back and nodded. He offered me a better life than one as a hermit if I helped him unify Japan and help force the demons that harmed his people out. I accepted because that look in his eye was one I saw in my own, one of ambition. I packed my belongings and he let me stay in his home.

I won't lie his home was beautiful and he promised me a place of my own would be finished within the first week. Nobunaga was indeed curious about my nature so any questions he asked I answered. After learning everything I knew about my powers he ordered all of his best warriors to each offer a cup of blood and to put them at easy he even did it himself. With each cup I drank I learned all I needed to about the Oda Clan, their territories, their philosophy, how they fight, and how each one of these warriors and Nobunaga think. I became a one man army but only when it was needed.

A few months into this I was made into a lord of one of the castles I helped capture and because of many battles I had a reputation as the Oda Clan's demon. Because of that fame many humans and demons came to me asking to serve under me. Thanks to that it gave Nobunaga a title he always found amusing.

"The Demon King Nobunaga Oda, I like it!"

My forces were spread thin but were always instrumental in aiding the clan. After a number of victories Nobunaga said I should take a break and I left command of my troops in the hands of Tokichiro,now Hideyoshi, not sure why he changed his name but it did suit him. I retired to my castle and town to enjoy some peace, that is when I met someone who became very important. Her name was Yuki, an exorcist and my future wife.

At first Yuki was very uncertain of me but she stayed in my province incase I decided to turn on the people. But as time passed and the more we talked the closer we became. We ended up married and for the first time in my life I was happy and didn't feel like I was in any danger. A few days after the wedding Hideyoshi came and told me another foriegner like me was leading troops against the Oda clan. After years of silence he finally came out of hiding and I was excited.

Yuki wanted to come with me to help me fight. I wasn't about to say no to her, she was very strong in her magic and I needed any help I could get. Because of how Nobunaga needed me at the time I set aside my dislike of drinking human blood so at the time I had enough to kill this monster. When I came face to face with him I fought him alone with Yuki and Hideyoshi suppressing the man's troops. He stood looking at me unfazed but his troops being pushed back, all he did was look in my eyes just like before and smiled. We drew our swords and much to his surprise with one quick motion I took off his arm. He snarled and vanished as Yuki, Hideyoshi, and Nobunaga came to try and help me.

Even more time passed and we heard nothing of the man in black. Nobunaga rewarded me for my actions up to this point. He gifted me my own armor, a simple general's armor with a purple vest and black armor plates. On the back of the vest was the Oda Clan crest in white. He also had a katana made for me, he had it forged special for me. The blade was made from steel and what Yuki had claimed to be the fang of a dragon. Yuki had also helped in making it by blessing it making it never grow dull and indestructible.

This is the last time skip of my time in japan, I promise. Toward the end it looked like we were going to do it. But the main thing was Yuki gave birth to a son, my son Nobun. What came next no one saw coming, the man in black that killed Marcus tricked one of Nobunaga's most trusted generals to kill him at Honnoji Temple. The temple was surrounded by enemies by the time I got to the center it was too late, Nobunaga was killed. Hideyoshi then sent word that my home was being attacked. I rushed home to see it in turmoil but my forces seemed to keep the enemy at bay. My thoughts was focused on one thing though, my family.

I rushed to the castle only to find the man in black standing above Yuki's body on the ground, her head held in his hand, and to my horror my son held in a new arm that looked grotesque. You could see the muscle tissue and tendons until his hand that was still nothing but bone. The man raised Yuki's head up to show me her face and tossed it to the side. Then for the first time ever I hear him speak and it will haunt me forever.

"Consider this a gift... from father to son."

As he spoke I could see the fangs that could back his claim. Without hesitation he snapped Nobun's neck and ripped my son's head from his shoulders and tossed the remains in a fire. Everything flashed before my eyes until I saw nothing but red. I charged at him in a failed attempt to avenge everyone I came to care about only for him to vanish. After everything settled we held a funeral for the fallen and Hideyoshi asked me what we should do now. I looked at the graves of my family clutching my sword in my hands. I left everything in his hands and left Japan going back to Ireland.

I spent centuries hunting down my bastard of a father. He had his hand in almost every war up until 1888. I learned of a killer called "Jack the Ripper" who's methods were just like the old man's. I finally cornered him in a factory and fought him with everything I had. That was the first time I tasted demon's blood as in the middle of the fight I took a bite out of his wrist and for a moment I changed. I was far stronger and faster than I ever been before. I had him where I wanted him until an explosion occurred. With my new power I escaped and when everything settled I searched everywhere for his remaind but found nothing but a single fang.

After that waited 50 years, and the another, only to hear nothing. It was finally over, the one that took so much from me was gone. I spent the years after as a hunter, taking jobs and building up a network to gather intel. Some time in the 1970s my informants told me about an old druid vampire named Morzan that wanted to meet me. When I arrived at his home he said nothing, just motioned to a cup of blood. Trusting him I drank and visions of a younger him flashed in my mind. I have learned about magic but never used it because it reminded him of Yuki. I learned a great deal, more than I had from anyone but there was one thing that caught my attention. A memory of Morzan with that bastard calling him son.

Morzan confirmed that he was my grandfather and took off his hood showing that he was blind. He apologized for not being there to help me fend off my father from those I lost. He also told me about a prophecy about a child born of a human and vampire. Someone who could either end everything or protect it. He was pround that I used my power to help but was hurt because he could sense what i never told anyone. I wanted to die more than anything. He taught me a better way to deal with my pain.

My grandfather told me about everything I ever wondered about. My mother, where I came from, anything I could want to know. In the end talking with Morzan put some of my mind at ease and I decided to retire as a hunter and become an infobroker. That's when I opened up my baby, The Wraith's Haunt, at first just a front for my business with demon hunters. Information, weapons, cheap drink, and great food, everything a guy could hope for. The pub become my home and I came to meet a pretty cool group of people... and Kenway. But that's all to it I suppose, at least for now. I actually feel better about writing all this.

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shoalfoodblog · 5 years ago

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Earthshine, Chapter 2

Again, I don’t consider myself a writer whatsoever but I guess I’m following my compulsions. We’ll see how long I keep doing this, but yeah. Here’s more??? Sorry if it’s lame or anything is wrong, etc. Just doing this for fun~~~

Sesskag.

First Chapter

Kagome had seen more battles than most decorated soldiers in her time. She’d waged a war against an unspeakable evil and lived to tell the tale. And from those experiences, she’d learned a thing or two about strategy.

Information is everything. Namely; know your enemy. If you can think like them, you’ll be two steps ahead at all times and be able to guide them into your trap.

Mostly Naraku had done this brand of bamboozling to their group, but that's besides the point because it worked. They’d all been tricked and lead like lambs to slaughter more than once by that creature. And while Kagome wouldn’t normally be molding her behaviors off a maniacally evil megalomaniac, desperate times called for desperate measures.

Not that she was desperate.

With her mind made up on seducing Sesshomaru, daiyoukai of the west, most powerful AND beautiful demon in the four territories, and veritable icicle, Kagome knew she had to think ahead.

It was disconcerting to realize that if she were to list things she knew he liked, she wouldn’t even use up the fingers on one hand.

1.) Fighting. She imagined he got bored defeating opponents so easily. He was a beautiful and deadly figure on the battlefield without match. The lack of worthy challenges probably explained all of the spontaneous “friendly” bouts with Inuyasha (which Kagome vehemently disapproved of, since it was her supplies she’d burn through patching up the battered half demon) over the past few years since Rin came to live in the village.

2.) Knowledge. This one was subtler. When he’d seen some of her futuristic objects while visiting Rin, he’d ask her pointed questions, his intense stare giving no room for anything but a full and thorough answer. These were always followed by an almost inaudible hum of acknowledgement, and a swift departure. Kagome supposed dogs were often curious creatures, so why should dog demons be any exception?

3.) Rin. This did not translate to humans as a whole whatsoever. Just Rin. He maybe tolerated some others, but he definitely didn’t like them. In all likelihood he held a quiet disdain, but Kagome figured she was at least in the ‘tolerated’ camp, considering he trusted her with his charge, so that was encouraging.

Thinking of Rin, caused Kagome to smile. Rin was a wonderful girl, even if she suffered from the effects of a serious case of hero worship for her Lord. Kagome remembered countless times where they’d spend time together, harvesting herbs and naming the blooms they came across. The now teenaged girl didn’t really have any female figures in her life, so Kagome filled in the roll by default. She genuinely adored Rin, and suspected Rin found a good friend in return. So really this point wouldn’t be an issue.

As far as fighting went, Kagome was a decent shot, but sparring with the daiyoukai seemed like signing a death wish.

Now. His curiosity. Kagome knew she was a novelty to him. Even if he wasn’t interested in her exactly but in the information she had about the future, it was at least a doorway in to some decent conversation. But what could tempt the stoic demon lord? He’d seen most of her futuristic belongings she kept in this era.

She really couldn’t, in good conscience, divulge information that could change the future, just in case this didn’t work out. So no politics, investment strategies, nor extreme advancements in engineering.

Cultural tidbits would be safer.

Music?

No. She imagined her tastes would appall him. Pop music with all of its thick instrumentation and driving rhythms didn’t exactly fit with her image of him and she’d rather appear dignified then explain why pop music was… well, popular in her era.

Art?

She would be the first to admit she didn’t know shit about art.

Food?

Kagome struggled to imagine Sesshomaru eating. Maybe she was guilty of putting him on a pedestal, but such a normal, everyday act seemed out of place for him. She’d certainly never seen him eat, but that wasn’t really saying much given the longest time they’d been in each other’s company was when he was fighting with Inuyasha. Also what could she prepare him that would be both impressive and appealing to a dog demon?

She decided to consult Rin.

A direct approach was always best. Searching out her young friend Kagome inquired

“Rin-chan. I was curious. What does Sesshomaru-sama eat?”

Rin stilled her hands, which were busy tying up herbs to dry in Kagome’s storehouse. Turning to Kagome, she gave the universal shrug of ‘I have absolutely no clue’

“Huh. Rin never saw him eat, now that Rin thinks about it. Or Rin just wasn’t paying attention.”

Kagome huffed in frustration, maybe a little louder than she should have, because Rin furrowed her brow at her.

“Why do you ask, Kagome-oneesan?”

It was imperative Rin not catch on to her plans. She needed a reasonable excuse. One would appear any moment. Seem calm, you crazy woman.

“Oh! Well you see… I just wanted to offer him something as thanks for taking such good care of you all these years. I feel very thankful to have Rin-chan in my life. It may be too forward though… just forget I said anything”

Nailed it.

“Rin is also happy she knows Kagome-oneesan! And is grateful to Lord Sesshomaru for bringing her to your village!”

She was clutching the fresh cuttings closely to her chest, beaming up at the older woman. The picture of earnestness.

“I’m sorry but Rin doesn’t know what Lord Sesshomaru would like to eat! Rin only knows Lord Sesshomaru doesn’t eat human food. He told me when we first met and I tried to give him some fish, and other things”

Huh. Well, that was…less than helpful.

“Don’t worry Rin-chan! I’ll think of something to give him. Don’t fret about it” Kagome tossed her a reassuring smile while she set about finishing their work. Reaching to tie the next bundle up to dry, Kagome, ever the optimist, was sure she’d think of something.

That was two weeks ago. She’d gained no ground since.

Her brainstorming had lead her down very uncomfortable roads. She shuddered as she recalled that Koga’s pack used to survive by eating humans. And when she asked Shippo, he just shrugged and said dogs were “weird that way” but couldn’t provide any specifics. Sango said there just wasn’t a lot of research her village had done on dog demons since they generally stayed away from messing with human settlements.

Dog Demons. You’d think they’d be as easy to please as their mortal counterparts.

Kagome was contemplating chucking a box of milk bones at the demon lord and taking her chances.

Maybe a change of scenery would shake an idea loose in her brain. It had been a while since she’d visited her family, and her childhood home always helped to clear her mind.

…

Sliding the door open to her family’s house, she was greeted by the sweet aroma of freshly baked goods.

“Tadaima, Mama! Souta! Ojii-chan!”

“In here, dear!”

Following her mother’s voice to their kitchen, she arrived in time to see her pull a fresh sheet of cookies from the oven.

“Kagome! It’s so good to have you home! And with such good timing! I just made some peanut butter cookies. Would you like-“

Peanut butter. Lightning ricocheted through Kagome’s mind. Her breath hitched, and her eyes grew wide.

An epiphany held her in place. A eureka moment erupted across her consciousness.

It couldn’t be that simple!

Glancing around, she spied the half-empty jar of peanut butter still out on the counter, a spoon jutting from the top. Kagome fumbled with the container, her hip bumping the table in her haste to get back through the well.

“-some to take to your friends?”

And with that, the matron of the Higurashi family was left alone with a full tray and an empty room. Hearing the front door slam, she exhaled and began to wonder. Would her daughter ever settle down long enough to lay down some real roots?

…

‘Peanut butter! Dogs loved peanut butter!’

Kagome swallowed a triumphant shout. It was the best idea she’d had yet. Even if it was the only idea she’d had.

It had been 10 days since Sesshomaru had last checked on his ward, and since you could predict the tides based on the precision of his schedule, Kagome knew he’d be checking on Rin today at dusk.

That gave her…maybe 20 minutes to catch her breath and set her trap.

Kagome clambered up the rope ladder they’d installed in the well, jar in hand, and made her way down the path towards her home. Upon rounding the corner to the field it was settled in, she noticed Rin, who often watched her home when Kagome was away, was siting by the entrance with a flower crown gently held in her hands.

The young girl perked up as she caught sight of her sisterly figure.

“Kagome-oneesan! Welcome home! Rin thought you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow!”

“Ah - I uh, hello Rin-chan! Well you see I forgot to bring my mother - uh” glancing around she eyed the circlet of blooms in her young friend’s hands “Flowers! I was going to pick her some flowers!”

“Oh! That’s wonderful Kagome-oneesan!”

She felt awful fibbing to Rin. But these were dire times.

Kagome slumped on the stump near the entrance of her home where she would split wood for the hearth, trying to catch her breath. Rin sidled closer to her, then noticed the strange container Kagome had in her possession.

“What are you holding, Kagome-oneesan?” gesturing with her eyes towards the young miko’s grasp.

With an exhale, she lifted the container towards Rin.

“It’s a snack from my home. It’s called Peanut butter. It’s kind of sticky, and nutty, but it’s not really made of nuts, it’s made from legumes I think? - I don’t know if we have peanuts here - and I’m rambling, It’s kind of sweet and salty. ” Noticing the spark in Rin’s eyes, she also added “Would you like to try it?”

“Oh! Could Rin?!” She leaned forward clutching the wreath to her chest. She was too infectious. Kagome entertained the passing thought that in the future, Rin would be able to wrap any man she wanted around her finger.

“Of course! You might not like it however… I think it’s kind of an acquired taste.” Kagome retrieved the spoon from the jar, wiping any excess along the rim before handing it to the eager girl.

She popped the spoonful in her mouth.

“It might be a little sticky, so don’t choke on the stuff.” Rin tried to pry open her mouth to respond but all that came out was a jumble of muffled syllables that had Kagome giggling brightly. Rin tried to talk between swallows of the sticky treat, but more stifled sounds escaped instead, which caused both women to erupt in peels of laughter.

Neither of them noticed the third presence suddenly appear in front of them.

Sesshomaru arrived at the miko’s dwelling to discover the two human women in a puddle of frenzy, to such an extent that they both failed to mark his entrance.

It was rare indeed for any being not to take immediate notice of the towering dog demon, so much so Sesshomaru wasn’t sure how else to gain the silly mortals’ attention.

He set about employing the strategy he used in most of his dealings, thinking formidable thoughts and staring, sure his presence would speak for itself soon enough.

He was wrong.

The females were in hysterics.

Wondering if, despite all reason, his imposing bearing had run thin Sesshomaru decided a more direct approach was necessary.

“Miko. Rin.” he intoned smoothly. Sesshomaru applauded himself when the females ceased at once.

The pair, now still, they turned to face the intimidating demon lord, fighting the urge to erupt into laughter once more. Of course Sesshomaru showed up right at this moment.

“Lord Sesshomaru!” somewhat out of breath, Rin stood to greet her guardian.

“Hn. This Sesshomaru trusts you’ve been well, Rin” He flicked his gaze over his charge, appraising her well-being.

“Oh yes, Lord Sesshomaru! We’ve just finished drying the spring herbs, and Kagome-oneesan has just shared a most interesting treat with Rin!”

Gazing over the miko, he unabashedly sized her up, maybe for the first time, considering her fully. How long had Run bestowed the miko with that sisterly honorific?

“Hn.” He swept his gaze over the woman, seeing as she fumbled with the strange container in her hands.

“It’s nothing really, just a little something from my home” She waved her hand in mock bashfulness. Though flustered, Kagome hadn’t forgotten her self-appointed mission. She knew Sesshomaru was a curious creature by nature. She refused to give up more information than necessary. He’d have to come to her for answers.

To Sesshomaru, the substance did not appear to be having any long lasting ill effects on his ward. Was it some sort of drug? Was this responsible for the fit of hysterics that descended upon the two? The miko stirred the thick mass in the strange pot she carried. Scenting the air, its aroma wafted towards him. It smelled unlike anything he’d encountered before.

It smelled delicious.

“Miko.”

This was it. She had trained her attention on the demon lord and saw the moment the spark of curiosity flitted across his gaze.

“Hai, Sesshomaru-sama?’ She continued to stir the peanut butter around in the jar, hoping the smell would be released more strongly into the air.

“What is this substance you have given my ward?” He was the picture of disinterest, eyes gazing at some distant point on the horizon, busying himself by running his hand once across his mokomoko.

Knowing the demon lord was painfully direct in all his dealings, Kagome realized he must be really tempted to put on this kind of show.

His actions confirmed her theory. She had him.

“Would you like to try it?” Kagome offered him the handle of the heaping spoonful.

He would deny the small flare of his nostrils, and the twitch at the bottom of his mokomoko if anyone questioned him.

“I do not eat human food, priestess”

Kagome internally congratulated his commitment to his image. He even mustered a small sneer on his face.

“Of course Sesshomaru-sama. How silly of me” Kagome smiled knowingly at the stubborn dog in front of her. Making a small show of it, she swiped a finger across the spoon and plopped it her mouth, humming in satisfaction, before setting the jar beside her on the stump. She could feel his eyes follow her movements.

“Well I’m sure you have more important things to do with your time, Sesshomaru-sama. I have a few things to take care of myself before nightfall, so I’ll take my leave. Safe travels. Rin, have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow”

“Yes! Thank you again Kagome-oneesan, Rin will see you soon!”

Sesshomaru didn’t respond, instead turning on his heel,he departed towards the village, no doubt escorting Rin who trailed after him talking animatedly about something or other.

Kagome didn’t call after them when she saw the jar of peanut butter was mysteriously gone.

…

Elsewhere, with legendary control, Lord Sesshomaru, Ruler of the West and powerful Daiyoukai, resisted the urge to smack his lips when the miko’s strange and addictive morsel stuck to the roof of his mouth.

The proud dog demon dissolved the empty plastic container with acid.

There could be no evidence of his lapse of control.

#sesskag #earthshine #fanfiction idea #writing

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knivestothroats · 5 years ago

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Red Blood, Black Heart pt 7

Previous, Masterlist

Content warnings: Discussion of previous grisly injuries, discussion of murder, knives, guns, broken bones, general violence, minor fangirling.

“You like the band Serpents Teeth, right?” Barnes asked, glancing down at the file on his desk.

“Yeah,” Red smiled.

“How much do you like them?”

“Oh, I mean, they’re, like, one of my favorite bands. I have all their albums.”

“Hm,” was Barnes’ only response. He pursed his lips as he looked down at the files again.

“Are you asking if I can be professional around them?” Red asked. “Because I totally can. I’ll be chill.”

“I was actually hoping to find a certain level of… devotion.”

“Oh! Well I was totally downplaying my response because I thought you wanted me to, you know, not freak out,” Red said. “Their music got me through the worst of my teen angst and totally hating my life in high school. I know all the words to all of their songs. I would fucking die for them. Or kill for them, which is probably more of what you’re looking for.

“Great, I’m putting you on their case,” Barnes said, handing a folder across the desk to Red. “In addition to your aptitude, if you like the band, you’re already invested in their wellbeing. Of course, your ability comes first, but being willing to kill or die for the band, as you said, narrows it down from our other agents. Please do not die, though.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Red grinned, flipping through the files excitedly. “Um, just me?”

“That was the plan,” Barnes said. “Do you have reservations? You’ve done solo missions before.”

“Oh, no, I believe I can do it. I’m just… I thought if the pack was larger than three people it required two agents? And I’ve been doing a lot of missions with Simon, so…”

“The limit is three until the agent reaches a certain skill level. It does not go above four for anyone, though. As for Simon, he’s a valuable asset. Putting you both on this mission would likely be overkill, and we can use his skills elsewhere.” Barnes folded his hands on the desk. “Do you feel comfortable with that?”

“Yeah, sure,” Red said in a bad attempt at being casual. In truth, her nerves came far more from the prospect of being around Serpents Teeth than any risk to her physical wellbeing. Her hands were nearly shaking as she tried to focus on reading the files.

“You know, they were here that day you jumped into the med bay without your shoulder. I thought that might have scared them off, but I was able to frame it in terms of, you know, you got your pack out unharmed and we were able to fix you up. Would have been worse if you weren’t there for your pack, or if we weren’t there for you.”

“Oh, glad I could help,” Red deadpanned.

Barnes tapped his copy of the case file. “We’re looking at long term protection duty,” he said. “Basically, you would remain in close proximity to the band on a regular basis. There will be shifts, of course, so you can sleep and have days off. But it’s mostly you and them, all day every day.”

Red nodded. “Cool, cool, cool. Sounds good.”

“If we decide you need a partner, one will be assigned,” Barnes continued. “You can request one if you feel this job is better suited to two or more agents. As always, you can call in the standby team at any point if you need backup or an evacuation. Understand?”

“Yep.”

“That all sound good?”

“Yep.”

“Any questions?”

“Nope.”

“Great, let’s go,” Barnes said, standing up. He walked around the desk and put his hand out to Red.

“Right now?” Red asked, rising clumsily to her feet. “We’re going to the band right now?”

“Yes,” Barnes said. “Is that a problem?”

“Uh, no, no,” Red said, trying to think if there was anything she needed to do or get or plan to say before she met the band, but her head was empty. “Let’s do it,” she said, putting her hand in Barnes’.

Without any further hesitation, Barnes jumped them both directly into Serpent Teeth’s recording studio, causing the members of the band to jump with a start.

“Jesus, man,” It was the singer, Benji Mikes, who spoke; Red recognized him instantly. He put a hand over his chest. “I thought you said the whole… interdimensional travel thing was supposed to be on the DL? What if our producer had been in here?”

Barnes more or less ignored this comment. “I would like to introduce you to your new protection agent, Red. Red, this is Benji, Kimi, Jimi, and Harley, but you already know that. Red is a big fan. This will most likely be long term, so just imagine her as your fifth member of the band who doesn’t play any instruments.” Barnes turned to Red. “You’ve got it from here, I just wanted to introduce you to the band. Don’t hesitate to call for backup if you need it.”

With that, Barnes disappeared. Red feigned a casual confidence as she turned to the band.

“Uh, yeah, so, just do what you would normally do. You can just ignore me, or whatever. I’ll just, like, hang out over here.”

“So you’re a fan?” Benji asked.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m, um, really into your music, yeah. But I’m not gonna be weird, I promise.”

“That’s awesome,” Benji said. “It would suck if you hated our band. So, we’re working on new music right now, and it’s really important that everything we do here, stays in here. You can’t, like, record anything, or…”

“Oh! I’m not an asshole.” Red waved him off. “You don’t need to worry about me leaking anything. Seriously, I don’t even listen to leaks when they happen. Sometimes a band will leak their own material on purpose and I won’t even listen to it.”

With that assurance, the band got back to work. Red sat off to the side. For as much time as she spent scrolling through her phone, she subtly watched the band work. Often she had her phone up with the screen off, just so it didn’t look like she was staring.

At one point, Benji and Jimi got hung up trying to work out a bridge on guitar, and Kimi set down her bass and wandered over to where Red was sitting.

“Hey, so…” Kimi sat down on an amp. “Just you, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” Red said, somewhat uncertainly.

“It’s just that… your people always had two, um, agents… on us, before.”

“Yeah, that’s normally the case, but I’m as good as two people,” Red shrugged. “So they just put me on.”

Kimi stared at her for a moment, trying to tell if Red was being serious. She then shifted uncomfortably and leaned forward a bit, as if sharing sensitive information.

“We, uh… saw you in the hospital. Or, whatever it was. The infirmary. You…” Kimi trailed off, unsure of how to get to her point without being insensitive.

“Looked pretty gross?” Red offered.

“You looked like you lost the fight pretty badly.”

Red sat back in her chair, resisting the urge to fold her arms across her chest. “I didn’t – I didn’t – I mean… My pack survived. The – the people I was in charge of protecting. I got them out alive, so I didn’t lose.”

“Okay, well, that’s good, but… look, there’s four of us and one of you. Plus, these – these… hostiles? That’s what you guys call them? When they showed up before with the other agents, they were always in groups. So–”

“Groups of how many?” Red cut her off.

“Um,” Kimi thought about it. “Like, three or four?”

Red shrugged. “Easy.”

Benji and Jimi were still riffing, but Harley had walked over and set their drum seat down beside Kimi.

“You sound pretty confident for someone who almost got got,” Harley said.

“I already said that,” Kimi mumbled to them. “But I phrased it nicer.”

Red couldn’t help but roll their eyes. “Look, I got those people out alive, okay? Plus I got fancy weapons upgrades since then. And if shit really goes sideways, there’s a team on standby who can be here instantly. I’m just the main person who’s going to be on your guard all the time. And I can handle a few Reapers.”

“Yeah, what exactly are those?” Harley asked. “No one’s done a very good job of explaining it. Besides, like, guys with big knives who want to stab us and steal our souls.”

Red rocked her head from side to side. “Well, that’s pretty accurate.”

“Yeah, but like…” Harley folded their arms, looked at Kimi and then back at Red. “What the fuck is that?”

“That guy Barnes said we have, um, strong souls or something?” Kimi added.

“Well,” Red took a deep breath. “Everyone has a life force energy. Whether or not you want to call them souls… is a separate issue. But we’ve all got something, right, that’s like a battery. And some people’s are, uh, stronger, like you said. And that can attract unwanted attention. Apparently you all have, I guess, above average levels, and with all of you in one place all the time… it’s a big score.”

“A big score?” Harley echoed.

“Yeah, the Reapers sell the, uh, souls, or whatever you want to call them,” Red explained. “They can be used like a power source. I mean, it’s illegal basically everywhere, but… multiverse black market, I guess. Lucrative business. But X-Caliber extradites them so they can go to space jail. That’s a joke; these are alternate dimensions, not alien planets.”

“So you guys are cops?” Harley asked, a hint of disdain just below the surface in their voice.

“Oh, fuck no,” Red scoffed. “I’m exactly as advertised – personal security.”

Kimi leaned back and folded her arms. She and Harley exchanged a look. At the same time, the door opened. Three men walked into the room, glancing around, trying to look like they belonged. Red watched them as Kimi spoke up again.

“I don’t know. It’s just, why don’t they just have another agent on our case? I mean–”

“Hey, do you know those guys?” Red interrupted.

Kimi and Harley looked over for the first time.

“Mm, no,” Kimi said. She glanced and Harley, who shook their head.

“Okay, well, I’m probably about to prove myself then,” Red said as she stood up. She walked up to the men with a smile on her face. “Hi! Can I help you guys?”

The man in front looked at her for a second, then reached behind him and pulled out a large knife. There was a glass orb where the blade met the hilt, surrounded by curved spikes protruding forward. As the man thrust forward, Red caught his wrist and twisted his arm, wrenching it with enough force for the man to bend forward and lose his grip on the knife. Red kicked it out of the way, and the blade skittered across the floor to be lost between amps and equipment. She sent a strong kick to the side of the man’s knee and it bent sideways with a crack. The man screamed and dropped to the ground. Red jumped and spun in the air, ending with a kick to the man’s head.

The other two men had drawn their knives and were moving on Red. One of them stabbed forward, but Red caught his arm. The other was closing in, so Red flicked her fingers on her left hand. A translucent pink dome appeared around the third man. He pushed against it, but couldn’t break through.

Red’s attention was brought back to the opponent in front of her when he drove his fist into her ribs. She let out a gasp of pain, but immediately threw her elbow into the side of his head before he could get another hit in. Red swept his leg, knocking him to the ground, while keeping her hold on his wrist. She pulled his arm down and drove her knee up. The man yelled and dropped the knife. Red slammed her boot down on it and shattered the glass. She then brought her boot down on the man’s sternum, knocking the wind out of him.

“Don’t get up,” she growled as she dropped his arm. The man curled up on his side.

Red turned to the last hostile. He looked ready to fight as soon as the forcefield came down. Red focused on her right hand, hanging slightly open at her side, until she felt the cool metal of a gun in her palm. She raised it, steadying her stance, and pointed it at the man.

“Get on your knees,” Red commanded.

The man hesitated.

“Get. On your knees. Now. When that shield comes down, you’re not going to be faster than I am.”

The man lowered himself to one knee, then the other.

“Good,” Red said. “When I take the shield down, I want you to throw the knife away, and then put your hands behind your head. Understand?”

The man nodded once.

“Okay. If you try anything, you will get shot.”

With a flex of her hand, the forcefield disappeared.

“Toss the knife,” Red ordered.

The man tossed the knife across the room and slowly put his hands behind his head. The whole time, he had Red fixed with a cold stare.

Red kept the gun trained on the man with one hand and reached for her walkie talkie with the other.

“Barnes,” she spoke into it, “we’ve got one unconscious and two disarmed.”

Red only lowered her gun when Barnes arrived with the clean-up team and someone moved to put the man in handcuffs. The weapon returned to a default ring on her finger.

“His knife’s over there,” Red gestured. She watched the other conscious man be put in handcuffs as well. That left the first one she had fought – the one she had kicked in the head. Red walked over to him. Nervously, she pressed her fingers to his throat. Finding a pulse, she breathed a sigh of relief. She really did not want to make a bad first impression with Serpents Teeth by murdering someone in front of them.

Red gave Barnes a brief rundown of the events, knowing she would have to fill out a report later. He and the team left with the hostiles while Red was still searching for the knife she had kicked away. When she found it, she brought it over to the band.

“This is a reaper’s knife,” she explained. “When a person gets stabbed with this, their soul – or, whatever you want to call it – is extracted into this orb here. You know in Harry Potter when they say that a dementor’s kiss doesn’t kill you, but it’s a fate worse than death? We don’t know if that’s true because the extraction process is fatal.”

The band stared at the knife, then at her.

“Because you get stabbed in the chest with a big-ass knife,” Red elaborated.

“And that just almost happened to us?” Jimi asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t say almost,” Red said. “Because I was here. So. I wasn’t going to let it happen.”

“You just took out three guys!” Benji exclaimed like he was suddenly coming to his senses. “On your own! Three grown-ass men! What the fuck! That was… that was amazing!”

A smile spread across Red’s face, and she could feel her cheeks beginning to match her name.

“Uh, ha, yeah, like I was saying,” Red nodded to Kimi and Harley. “I’m a goddamn superhero.”

[next]

#red #i spent too long on this chapter idk if i like it anymore just take it #red blood black heart #original #writings #whump ocs #whump series #scifi whump #knives #guns #depictions of violence

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