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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

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Not the Type: 5/7

The muse has awakened! I feel awful for keeping ya'll waiting so long (5 months? seriously?!) for an update on this fic. I actually decided to split this chapter up once it reached 2k because I didn't want you waiting any longer for another chapter. So, this will now be 7 chapters plus an epilogue. Much thanks to my beta @hookedonapirate for untangling my awkward wording and making me sound so much better! You have a way of getting what I'm trying to say and making it flow. What would I do without you? Thanks to the @captainswanmoviemarathon mods for being so patient and understanding when I had to put this on the back burner. And finally, thank you to my dear friend @snowbellewells for helping me get the muse kickstarted again on this fic. You rock!

Oh, and fun fact: The part in this chapter about Ruby’s cheer injury really happened - to me when I was a cheerleader long, long ago . . .

Summary: Emma Swan first notices him in the stands at the Friday night football game. She can tell right away Killian Jones is not the football type. Then again, she’s not the cheerleader type either, but here she is with pom poms. Life hasn’t ever gone the way Emma planned. Lately, that’s actually been a good thing. Maybe Killian Jones is a good thing, too.

My loose Captain Swan AU of the movie Bring it On

Rating: T

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @bethacaciakay @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @spartanguard @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @ohmakemeahercules @carpedzem @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockwhovian @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @itsfabianadocarmo @lassluna

Chapter Five

“You’ve got to let go of me for one second,” Emma giggled, her tone and the fact that she was simultaneously wrapping her free arm tighter around Killian’s waist completely contradicting her words.

“Do as I say, not as I do, hm?”

“I’m trying to get the mail!”

“So?”

“So you’re kissing my neck.”

“Hm, so I am.”

He flashed her a dazzling smile, his blue eyes slightly dazed, like he was drunk on love or something. Love? Emma wriggled free of his embrace as the word penetrated her lust filled, teenage brain. They couldn’t be in love or anything like that. This wasn’t a 90's rom com or something.

Killian was unfazed by her sudden distance, his hands still finding purchase on her elbow and hip; her hair still tickling his nose and mouth. She reached into the mailbox, pulled out an unusually thick stack and started flipping through it as Killian snaked his arms around her waist from behind and propped his chin on her shoulder. Emma wasn’t surprised to see college brochures; they had begun coming with increasing regularity now that she and her brother were juniors. One white envelope with blue writing gave her pause, however. It was addressed to her, and this was no brochure. It was a very official looking letter. Emma’s hands trembled as she tore it open.

“What is it?” Killian mumbled the question, far more interested in her neck at the moment.

Emma scanned the contents of the letter, and the more the words sank in, the more she trembled. So much so that the rest of the mail went fluttering to the sidewalk. Killian was finally pulled away from his obsession with her neck and spoke his next question with deep concern.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah . . . I, um,” she swallowed hard as conflicting emotions swirled in her brain. “The University of Kentucky is interested in recruiting me for their cheerleading squad.”

“That’s amazing, Swan!”

“You have no idea,” Emma said softly as she sank down onto the front step of her apartment building.

Killian gathered up the rest of the mail, then came and sat next to her. “Then continue in my cheerleading education, love.”

Emma chuckled, though she was also touched by the obvious interest he held in her pursuits, even if they weren’t necessarily in line with his.

“UK has the best cheer program in the country,” Emma explained. “They’ve won an insane number of national titles, probably more than any other college. You don’t just make the squad, you get a full ride. They’re that good.”

Killian lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “See? I knew you were bloody brilliant.”

Emma returned his bright smile with a shaky one of her own. “You’re so sweet.”

“You’re not excited about this?”

Emma bit her lip, staring at the letter in her hands until the words started to blur together. “I am. It’s just . . . this means they’ll be sending recruiters to our competitions. That’s a lot of pressure.”

“I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion.”

Emma’s lips lifted in a half-hearted smile. Her head collapsed onto his shoulder, and he brushed his lips against her forehead.

“A full ride . . . “

She let the thought fade into the air. How could she screw up an offer like this? It would help Ruth out so much, and her brother, too.

Yeah, no pressure.

*******************************************************

“Hey, Em!”

One of Ruby’s dirty socks bounced off Emma’s head and landed in her lap. With a disgusted grumble, she batted it to the floor.

“Rubes, that’s gross!”

“Well, you’re sitting there, staring into space. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly embarrassed to put that thing on in front of everybody.”

Emma looked down at the sports bra still clutched in her right hand. They all learned early on that there was no modest way to squeeze your boobs into a sports bra, so the squad basically had to get real comfortable around each other real fast. And contrary to every teen movie ever made, there was nothing sexy about it. It was just athletes being a team in the locker room.

You know, like male athletes.

“Oh God, she’s contemplating sexism in sports again,” Ariel groaned.

“She is!” crowed Ruby. “Look how she’s staring at that sports bra!”

“You mean this torture device?” Emma quipped, waving the garment in the air like a feminist about to burn something.

“She isn’t wrong,” Mary Margaret put in.

“Well, I for one am thankful for the torture device,” Jasmine piped up.

“Here we go again,” groaned Tiana.

“It’s true!” Jasmine cried out. “I don’t want the girls flopping around. It hurts!”

“While this discussion is incredibly enlightening,” a voice said dryly from the doorway, “I’d prefer we start running our competition routine, if you ladies don’t mind.”

They all mumbled apologies to Coach Ava, along with promises to get out of the locker room as quickly as possible. Emma shed her blouse and regular bra, then struggled her way into her sports bra before slipping a cheer camp t-shirt over her head. She paused before one of the cracked mirrors that hung above a row of ancient porcelain sinks that dated back to the 1950s. Being a girls’ team that didn’t really bring in any ticket sales, the cheerleading squad was relegated to practicing in the old gym. It could've been worse, however. The seniors remembered their freshman year, before the new gym was built, when the cheerleaders were forced to practice in the atrium at the front of the school. The atrium was great for painting bust-throughs, but Emma couldn’t imagine having to practice there.

As Emma tugged her hair into a messy ponytail, she thought of the letter she had shoved in the front pocket of her backpack. She'd planned on showing it to Ruby and Mary Margaret, but for some reason, she'd lost her nerve. She sighed as she made her way out of the locker room. Letter or no letter, she had to get her head on straight.

As usual, the girls started off running a mile around the gym, and just like every other practice, Emma started off keeping pace with Ruby and Mary Margaret. Her mind was still a million miles away, however.

In Kentucky, she supposed. The bluegrass state. Was the grass really blue? I mean, it couldn’t be. How can grass be blue?

“Hey,” Ruby panted, leaning over her knees when the run was over, “what’s with you?”

“What’s what?”

Emma’s brow furrowed as she did a calf stretch. She was always getting charley horses in the middle of the night during competition season. Ruth kept bugging her to eat a banana every day, but she despised bananas. They were so mushy . . .

“Earth to Emma,” Mary Margaret laughed.

Ruby snapped her fingers in Emma’s face.

“What happened to the Emma we know and love?” she asked. “You know, the one who leaves us in the dust every practice, laughing her ass off the whole way?”

“It’s not my fault you two do a leisurely jog instead of a run.”

“Running is what you do when you’re being chased,” Mary Margaret countered. It was her usual argument.

Ruby narrowed her eyes at Emma. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“Lunges, girls, across the gym floor!” shouted Coach Ava, saving Emma from responding. She lined up with the rest of the squad along one side of the gym, then stepped forward with her right leg, her hands on her hips.

“Is it Killian?” Ruby hissed at her left.

“No!”

“Just drop it,” Mary Margaret snapped.

“Yeah,” Emma grunted as she lowered herself into another lunge, “it’s kinda hard to talk and do these at the same time.”

“Tiana, I wanna see a right angle on those lunges!” their coach called out. “Ruby, you might be able to keep your balance if you stop exercising your mouth!”

Emma laughed loudly as Ruby wobbled and almost went down. “Yeah, Rubes, I’d concentrate if I were you.”

And just to rub her friend’s face in it, Emma sped up her lunges, reaching the other side of the gym first.

“Excellent job,” Coach Ava praised her. “Smooth, with speed, and you didn’t lose your form.”

Ruby practically growled when Emma threw a smirk her way.

They did a few more drills, warmed up their tumbling with a few simple passes, then gathered on the mats to go through their routine. Coach Ava was still making a few simple changes, but for the most part, it was now all about committing it to muscle memory. They needed to be able to practically do the routine in their sleep by the time December rolled around. And that was only five weeks away.

The girls got into position, and the music started. They were opening with a tumbling peel off. The girls in the front did a standing back handspring, the girls in the middle a standing back tuck, and then . . .

Emma got to shine as she kept going. Out of a standing back tuck, into two back handsprings, and then finally into a full twisting double back as the music crescendoed. Usually, Emma’s adrenaline had her ending the pass with a huge smile on her face, but today she under-rotated and almost landed flat on her face. She tried to shake it off, but in the team’s first pyramid, she started to lose her balance, almost taking the rest of the team down with her. Emma chastised herself to get it together as her stunt group moved into position for their next stunt - a twist up

Their “theme” this year was hair. They whipped their ponytails a lot in the dance portion, and every song had to do with hair. In the next stunt, Emma had to pull up on her ponytail while she twisted up into an arabesque, as if she was pulling herself up by her hair.

It was a little like patting her head and rubbing her stomach at the same time, which was incredibly frustrating to Emma. The stupid hair pull was supposed to be a cool bit of choreography, not rocket science. Yet, once again, Emma seemed to get her arms, her long hair, and her legs tangled into a mass as she twisted upward. What happened next, Emma was never entirely sure. Ruby yelled, Emma felt herself tilting sideways and she panicked, making a rookie mistake - she attempted to jump down from the stunt. Her fist was still gripped in her hair, which she almost yanked out in the fall, and she kicked her spotter away - another rookie mistake. Thankfully, Coach Ava was able to dart forward in time to catch Emma. Behind her, she heard what she swore were skulls crashing together.

It was a pretty accurate description.

Ruby was swearing loudly as she clutched her chin. A little blood seeped between her fingers. Ashley covered her mouth with both hands, and Emma was alarmed to see a lot of blood rolling down the blonde’s chin and staining her shirt. Ava abandoned Emma to check on the two bases, barking at Mary Margaret to run and get the first aid kid.

Emma felt like the worst human being in the world. She clutched at her middle and kept whispering “I’m so sorry” over and over again, but no one paid her any attention.

Ava cleaned up the blood pouring from Ashley’s mouth enough to ascertain that all of her teeth were still intact. She just had a busted lip, something many of them had endured in the past. It was crazy how badly a mouth injury bled. As for Ruby, she didn't even need a band-aid once the blood was cleaned away with an antiseptic wipe.

“Watch it carefully for infection,” Coach Ava advised.

“Why?” Ruby asked with a furrowed brow.

Ava winced slightly before reluctantly explaining. “They're bite marks. Ashley’s teeth collided with your chin.”

“WHAT??” Ruby screeched.

The rest of the squad crowded around to see as Coach Ava tilted Ruby’s chin up for a better look. Sure enough, there were two teeth-shaped puncture marks, like she’d been attacked by a wild animal. Practically growling in irritation, Ruby shoved her teammates aside and rushed to the locker room for a better look.

Ruby’s scream moments later had all of the girls collapsing with laughter.

“Well,” Ava sighed, “I suppose we’re taking a little break before we run the routine again.”

*************************************************

“So Ruby has bite marks on her chin?”

Emma snort-laughed through her nose at the look on Killian’s face. “Yep. And the rumors about how she got them get more and more unbelievable as the day goes by.”

Killian rolled his eyes before taking a bite of his sandwich. “Bloody gits”

It was too cold now to sit under the trees in the school courtyard, so she and Killian were tucked into a hidden corner in the school atrium. They had to whisper, though, because sounds reverberated against the domed ceiling. Emma couldn’t imagine cheering in this space. How did the seniors not go deaf?

“It’s not really a sexy place for bite marks though,” Emma said as she licked Cheeto powder off her fingers.

“Yeah, I can think of far kinkier places.”

She smacked him in the chest as he waggled his eyebrows at her. She wanted to be indignant at his innuendo, but instead her cheeks burned as her mind plunged straight into the gutter. She already knew a little bit of what Killian could do with his teeth . . .

“Sorry,” he apologized, shifting gears faster than she would have thought possible, “I don’t mean to be an idiot like all the rest.”

Killian blushed and scratched behind his ear. She practically melted at the way he could so swiftly go from irrepressible flirt to sweet boyfriend. She leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Emma crumpled up the Cheeto bag and stuffed it into her lunch bag. She handed the wad of trash to her boyfriend sweetly, batting her lashes exaggeratedly. Killian took her trash, chuckling as he stood up.

“You don’t have to use doe eyes to get me to do things for you,” he told her before walking to the trash can beside the front doors.

“I don’t?”

“Never,” he answered as he returned to her side. He sat back down on the floor, his back against the wall, and pulled her snug against his chest.

“So you’ll just wait on me hand and foot?”

“Like the princess you are.”

“Wow, I should really take more advantage of how whipped you are,” she joked.

Killian retaliated by tickling her in the ribs. She wriggled and laughed, but made no attempt to pull away from him. She glanced around, saw no adults, and then pressed her lips to his.

He kissed her back, sliding a hand into her hair. They kept it brief, not wanting to get caught. Storybrooke High gave demerits for PDA. Emma was tempted to just take the demerits so she could kiss her boyfriend thoroughly, but Coach Ava would pull her from the competition line up if she got one more demerit. So Emma just sighed and snuggled against Killian’s chest. He began to idly play with her hair.

“How many demerits do you get for PDA?”

Emma craned her neck to look at him. “How did you know I was thinking that?”

He grinned down at her rakishly. “I didn’t. But how many?”

Emma frowned. “It’s not bad, but it’s still too many for me. I’ve already gotten five demerits and six will get me cut from competition.”

“Scandalous. How did you get five demerits, love?”

Emma grumbled as she shoved a stray hair out of her eyes. “The first two I got because I argued with Mr. Gold about a paper he unfairly gave me a C- on. Then he wrote me up just for questioning him about it!”

“The bastard. And the other three?”

“That was me being stupid. I used the vending machine after noon.”

Killian’s laughter shook his chest, making Emma smile.

“That’s a stupid rule anyway.”

“I know, right? I forgot my lunch!” Emma tightened her arms around Killian. “Principal Mills did let me keep the chips, though.”

They were silent for a moment. Killian was still playing with her hair. She felt him take a deep breath and release it.

“Have you told the squad yet? About UK?”

Emma sighed. She figured he would ask her this eventually. “I will.”

“Emma -”

“I will.” She knew she needed to. Her friends could tell something was off, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted at any more practices.

Or any competitions.

Of course, if she screwed up this badly at a competition, The University of Kentucky might change their minds.

#cs ff #captain swan movie marathon #csmm #bring it on au #lieutenant duckling #high school au

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buckybarnesbingo · 3 years

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BBB Week 6 Roundup!

Little bit late, Mod Meg was on vacay over the weekend.

Title: Cute Quaterbacks Collaborator(s): Tori/samandbucky Link: AO3 Square: B4 - Sharing Clothes Rating: Teen Ship(s): Steve/Tony Major tags/warnings: AU, School, Fake Relationship, Protective!Bucky Summary: Steve and Bucky grew up as childhood best friends and are now roommates in college. Bucky dares Steve to bring a date to one of his upcoming football games after Steve suggests he could date anyone he wanted to. Enter Tony Stark. Word count: 1767

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Title: The Curse Collaborator(s): Tori/samandbucky Link: AO3 Square: K4 - Kiss Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/Clint Major tags/warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Magic, Curses Summary: Clint gets hit during an alien attack with some dark magic, Bucky and Steve can't wake him, so they go to the only person they know who can undo the curse: Stephen Strange. Word count: 1364

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Title: A Regular Harry Houdini Collaborator(s): Bird Link: AO3 Square: K4 - Prisoners/Captives Together Rating: Teen Ship(s): Sam/Bucky Major tags/warnings: Minor Episode 5 Spoilers, Post-The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Captured, First Kiss Summary: “You know, if Steve kissed me in the middle of an escape attempt, he would bring it up after,” Sam said. “I thought we weren’t talking about Steve,” Bucky grunted, closing his eyes. “I’m going to take a nap.” “I can’t believe you’re pretending to take a nap right now.” “I’m 106, Sam. I’m allowed to fall asleep whenever I want.” Word count: 1365

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Title: K5 Card B096 Soulbond Collaborator(s): Rufferto Link: Tumblr Square: K5 - High Fantasy, Curses, Shiny Sword Steve Rating: Teen Ship(s): Stucky Major tags/warnings: Fantasy Warrior Bucky, Curses, Art, Sword Steve Summary: When Bucky went off to war Steve was cursed into a sword. Bucky managed to find him because they share a bond but he's cursed. Bucky now carries Steve into battle wherever he goes looking for a way to have Steve at his side again. This was done on Hot Press Water Color Paper with Windsor & Newton and Arteza paints. I don’t much like the scan, there’s something always lost when a watercolor image is scanned but I will try some other time to get a better photo of it. Word count: none it is art.

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Title: Benevolent Overlord Collaborator(s): IndigoNight Link: AO3 Square: K1 - Bucky Bear Rating: Gen Ship(s): Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Major tags/warnings: Fluff, PTSD, Codependency, Alpine the Cat Summary: “Hi,” Bucky says, wincing a little at how hoarse and rough his voice sounds from disuse. The kitten just hisses at him again, huge green eyes narrowed into slits. “Yeah, I get it,” he agrees with a grimace and a commiserating nod. Word count: 4921

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Title: I'm James Buchanan Barnes Collaborator(s): e_hytes Link: Tumblr Square: C2 - Art Style: Black and White Rating: Gen Ship(s): No pairing/ship Major tags/warnings: #buckybarnes #wintersoldier #jamesbuchananbarnes #mcu Summary: A drawing of Bucky/Winter Soldier black and white Word count: N/A

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Title: Someone Like You Collaborator(s): Nicnac Link: AO3 Square: C4 - Prison Rating: Mature Ship(s): Bucky/Reader Major tags/warnings: Enemies, Uneasy Allies, Hydra Agent Reader, Negotiations Summary: Taken from their SHIELD prison cell, the reader finds themself alone with The Winter Soldier negotiating for their life. Word count: 2693

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Title: Sambucky Incorrect Quotes Collaborator(s): snowstark Link: Tumblr Square: U2 - Partner-In-Crime Rating: Teen Ship(s): Sam/Bucky Major tags/warnings: Enemies to lovers vibe, Humour Summary: “Bucky, we tried things your way already.” “No we didn’t.” “I did it in my head and it didn’t work.” Word count: N/A

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Title: darling, you’re the one i want in paper rings Collaborator(s): cyanica Link: AO3 Square: C5 - teasing Rating: Gen Ship(s): steve/bucky Major tags/warnings: first time, demisexuality, period-typical homophobia, fluff, friends to lovers Summary: "Okay, I don't know why I’ve never – you know!” Bucky said after a moment, a soft laugh spilling from his lips – something so genuine and bashful, that Steve wasn’t so sure what to make of. “You're just – you're the only one I've ever had eyes for. You're the only one I’ve ever wanted.” Or, whatever deity had constructed the fragmented pieces of their souls together, they were made of the same smithereens, and Steve was sure he had known that as a child, holding Bucky’s slightly larger hand and accepting that they were of the same love, without even knowing what such a concept was. Word count: 1630

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Title: Unexpected Alliances - Chapter 4 Collaborator(s): PoliZ Link: AO3 Square: C5 - Lending a Hand Rating: Mature Ship(s): Stucky Major tags/warnings: Fantasy AU, enemies to friends/lovers, referenced/implied torture Summary: Buckthorn’s refusal to use his fae magic to support his captor’s cause has left him battered and broken; when he is given a dangerous shifter as his cellmate, they overcome their differences to become allies and perhaps something more. Chapter 4: Upon reaching the shifters’ camp, Buckthorn meets another of Stephen’s companions who seems to have a chip on his shoulder when it comes to fae folk. Word count: 1034

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Title: A Story Told in Flesh, Chapter 3: Together In Dreams Collaborator(s): ChrissiHR Link: AO3 Square: B2 - Rocket Racoon Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Bucky x Darcy x Steve Major tags/warnings: Big Swingin’ Dick!Steve, smut, nsfw, dream sex, sex positive Summary: Bucky and Darcy get massages and discuss Aesir medical treatments; Darcy has an erotic dream about Bucky & Steve. Word count: 1270

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Title: Written In The Scars (On My Heart) Collaborator(s): IndigoNight Link: AO3 Square: K5 - Just Do It Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Major tags/warnings: Past Rape/Non-con, In Heat (but not A/B/O) Masturbation, Sex Toys, Mildly Dubious Consent, Body Worship, Self Body Worship, Rimming, Fuck Or Die (sort of), Porn with Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Inability to Orgasm, Body Image, Reference to Past Medical Experimentation, Self-Lubrication, Touch-Starved, Touch-Averse Summary: He swallows hard, struggling with himself one last time and losing. “I need your help,” he manages to whisper, voice cracking. The air in the room immediately changes. The wound up tension drains out of Steve, his posture and voice going soft. “Sure, Buck,” he says, cautiously moving back toward him. Bucky can’t move, his arms locked tight around his knees, and he can’t lift his gaze higher than Steve’s knees either. Steve pauses when he’s still a few feet away, squatting down and angling his head in an effort to see Bucky’s face through the curtain of his hair. “Anything. What do you need?” It’s everything Bucky can do to hold still, every cell in his body vibrating with the need to throw himself into Steve’s arms. He opens his mouth, but his throat sticks and he has to swallow again before he can force the words out. Slowly, by sheer force of will, he drags his gaze up to meet Steve’s eyes. “I need you to fuck me.” Word count: 41k

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Title: Acceptance is the first part of Healing Collaborator(s): Laevateinn Link: AO3 Square: C4 - Denial Rating: Teen Ship(s): N/A Major tags/warnings: 1e3 : Power Broker, TFATWS coda, TW for : implied sexual abuse/assault, dissociation, PTSD, flashbacks, Angst, hopeful(ish) ending Summary: "You good ?" Wilson asks him, after he fought against eight men. "You okay ?" Wilson asks him, when they get to Sharon’s house. "You hurt ?" Wilson asks him, when they get out of the car. Yes, Wilson. All good. Now if the guy could shut up and carry on, that'd be great. Why would he be "not fine" anyway ? It's not as if anything that happened that day hasn't happened before. Word count: 906

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Title: The Maze Stumbler (Moodboard) Collaborator(s): Turtles Link: Tumblr Square: B3 - Labyrinth Rating: Teen Ship(s): Darcy Lewis & Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Major tags/warnings: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Thor, Cocktail, Labyrinth Summary: Something, something, Thor spikes the punch at the party and they all decide to re enact the Maze Runner… or something like that. Sam and Bucky wake up in the middle of a maze, nothing but Darcy’s voice in their ear giving them directions and critiquing their methodology Word count: N/A

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Title: The Maze Stumbler (Fic) Collaborator(s): Turtles Link: AO3 Square: C1 - Stranded Rating: Teen Ship(s): Darcy Lewis & Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Major tags/warnings: Thor's Asgardian Booze, a labyrinth, Dubious Timeline, Everybody Lives, Crack Summary: Don’t drink Thor’s Asgardian booze. Ever. Word count: 1657

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Title: 5 Times Steve Received Plums from Natasha or Sam and the 1 Time Steve Realized the Plums weren’t from Them Collaborator(s): Girl_Back_There Link: AO3 Square: K5 - Bucky/Steve Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/Steve Major tags/warnings: 5 + 1, Bucky and his Plums, Angst and Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug Summary: Steve keeps finding plums in his hotel rooms or his bag. He thinks it is Natasha or Sam trying to be a good friend by making sure he is eating and keeping up his energy in the search for Bucky. Each plum he finds reminds him of Bucky growing up in pre-WWII New York. The times they would give each other a plum as a way of saying “I’m sorry” or “I love you.” Word count: 2998

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Title: Faith and Desire and the Swing of Your Hips Collaborator(s): IndigoNight Link: AO3 Square: U2 - French Kiss Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Major tags/warnings: Crossdressing, Nonbinary Steve Rogers, Oral Sex, Body Dysphoria, Gender Exploration, Supportive Flirting Summary: “You look gorgeous, doll,” he drawls, dragging up as much of old Brooklyn as he can to infuse into the words. Steve startles, even though the doorway and Bucky in it are clearly reflected behind him in the mirror. Steve’s eyes flick to him and away again, his face going pink from the tips of his ears and spreading all the way down to his chest. He fidgets with his skirt, hands smoothing over the folds of it self consciously. “It looks a little silly,” he mutters, chewing on his already chapped lower lip. Word count: 5470

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Title: Stay Collaborator(s): Bird/plutosrose Link: AO3 Square: C3 - Free Square Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Sam/Bucky Major tags/warnings: Post-Canon, First Time Summary: “So, are you keeping the outfit?” Word count: 1919

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Title: It's Not a Miracle You Need Collaborator(s): UisceOneLove Link: AO3 Square: Y3 - At a Crossroads Rating: Teen Ship(s): James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Major tags/warnings: Post-Endgame, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending Summary: Sitting out on the dock of Tony's lakehouse while the others slept, Steve thought about where he was expected to go from here. It's a good thing Bucky's around to help him see where that can be. Word count: 1584

#buckybarnesbingo2021 #bbb2021 #bbb weekly roundup #bbb week 6 #bbb round three

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sqsupernova · 3 years

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#SQ #SQSupernova #How To Post

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partnersatfazbear · 4 years

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Updates | Vday Sketches

I thought I’d post an update, so you guys know why I haven’t been posting. It’s nothing really serious, but I’ve been taking some time to spend with my wife before she starts a very long solid week of work with no time off, taking care of the apartment for her, ect.

I’ve had back pain, sciatica pain again as well as nightmares, so my sleep hasn’t been good..

I haven’t had any inspiration for poor William and Henry lately, but it is something I want to get back to. My interests change often, but I don’t want to abandon this ship anytime soon. I would be updating the fic, but I can’t get the middle sorted out. I haven’t sat down to finish Resurrection Seeker, although I’d say the last few chapters are about 50% done. As for the comic, I’ll upload that tomorrow. Out of pure laziness / back pain I haven’t finished coloring the most recent pages, but I’ve been looking forward to specific scenes and I really want to put my all as each page goes, hopefully improving the quality.

You have all been amazing, leaving lots of kudos. I appreciate that. I feel guilty for the lack of updates...

I admit what energy I have had has gone to my game, which still doesn’t have a name. I think I’ve almost worked out a plot I am happy with. I’m going to watch some horror movies today and get some inspiration. I’ve also been watching a lot of RPG Maker horror games (if you haven’t watched FlareBlitz, I highly recommend him... wife made fun of me because she says he sounds like PJ. If FB could read a little smoother, maybe. Nonetheless, FB is great for some relaxing RM content. Sadly, he’s doing a lot of VNs lately and it’s really not my thing.)

Anyway, to actual speak of my game, I’m really trying to figure out my story while mapping, which is probably a mistake, but I’d rather have a realistic house for a map that realistically conforms to the story. Having said that I realize that games like Pocket Mirror and Crooked Man stand out as my favorites and I’d like to include some fantasy elements at some point, but how to make it work with my grounded supernatural settings my work is set in is difficult.

Other random stuff I added to my to-do list is to make a Thousand Arms FNF Mod, but uh, it’s about 20 sprites not counting the death ones [just for the BF] (which I probably will only mildly modify). Then those 15 or so sprites must be copied / lowered a few times each to match the sprite sheet. This project is something very far off my radar, but I wanted to mention it.

So, right now my plans are to finish a chapter of something even if it’s typing up the first chapter of my MichaelxCharlie story, and post it. Second, work out my game’s plot a bit more. I have to establish this story with my 12 book long novels, which isn’t as hard as it sounds since this is near what I call “the end of the timeline” and I am planning with a sequel in mind. So, I want this game to have a lot of vague lore that gets answered in Part 2.

I just hope you can all support me in my game endeavors. I want to finish it by Easter. It’s isn’t my first RM title, but it’s something I would easily love to make a living out of someday.

Oh, and for some FNAF related stuff, we finally tracked down Glamrock Chica’s plush the other day when spending time with a friend. We still haven’t found Frostbear, unfortunetly. I’m going to have to pay scalpers for Chocolate Bonnie and Frostbear, sadly. The next book will come out in a month or so, IIRC? Gumdrop Angel? I don’t know if I’ll have anything to add for that. I also finished the Twisted Ones GN, so I’m out of material to read. Except to find that Google Drive post about the Shadow animatronics and read about them... because I intended to start a YT channel, but I’m too shy. I can’t do it without anyone to bounce my ideas off of and my wife is busy.

I will be taking a haitus between 2/20 and 2-28. My wife has vacation and we also moved our V-Day celebration to then. So, don’t expect too many updates that week, especially early on as we’ll be out of town visiting families.

I think I’ve rambled too much. If you made it this far, thank you..

Edit: Someone on twitter wanted Willry V-Day art. I might try my hand at it so I did some sketches... Springtrap literally giving his heart, Charlotte as flower girl (Henry has a plaid tux and William has bunny accessories), and then a scene from Resurrection Seeker.

#valentines day #willry #helliam #sketches #my art

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ds-ts-smut-fics · 4 years

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Cave Boys [Chapter One]

Edit: Please tell me if the ‘read more’ isn’t working because this is the third time I tried adding it in and on our blog, it shows, but when I see it on my dash it isn’t there. I’m really sorry if it’s still not working.

Synopsis: While exploring, Logan finds an unknown cave. He’s too curious for his own good and wanders inside, only to be kidnapped by monsters and taken to their civilization as a prize to be sold to the highest bidder.

Genre: Logan-centric whump with a happy ending for all, NSFW, romantic intrulogical, parental loceit, parental logicality, romantic moceit, background romantic prinxiety

Trigger warnings (for the entire fic): Angst and whump, blood, gore, kidnapping, monsters, human in a cage, human in a collar, human on a leash, I think maybe technically body horror?, implied unsympathetic Janus, implied unsympathetic Virgil (neither of them is unsympathetic they’re both just assholes lol), human slavery, human being treated as property, human up for sale, threats, eventual non-con, lots of bullying, poverty

Trigger warnings (for this chapter): Traps, ankle injuries, knives that go unused, suicidal speech, talk of a person ‘fading’ (very briefly and it doesn’t happen), arguing and insults, implied poverty

Word count: 6171

Written by: Claire and Virgil

Edited by: Virgil

A/N: Hi, I played Janus and if you ask me where his personality comes from, I have no answer ~Mod Virgil

When Logan was upset, he explored the forest by his house.

The woods spread over hundreds of miles. They were covered in towering pines, ground in thick moss and large boulders. There were plenty of places of interest marked out and documented— Hot springs, caves, clearings, ponds.

Logan had visited all of them.

It got to the point where he merely wandered, focusing on landmarks instead of the people who upset him, who had once again let him down. After all, he had to be able to find his way home. A few times he got lost in the forest for longer than desired.

He was several hours into his hike, in a direction he had never been before, when he came across an undocumented cave. He checked every centimetre of his map- The one he updated every night -but no one knew of its existence.

Humming, he flicked on his light, circling the area just in case, and making a note of the find in his journal before stepping in carefully, eyes wide with wonder. “Stupendous…."

The entrance of the cave was made of high ceilings and jagged walls covered in moss. The gurgling of running water from somewhere to his left echoed through the room, and straight across, through a narrow crack in the wall, was something… Glowing. Glittering, even, shining with purple, pink, yellow, and blue.

Gasping softly, he crept carefully towards the crack, a small shiver running down his spine. "Were I more superstitious, I would say this is a fairy ring or some nonsense… how does it shimmer like that though!” Reaching out, he slipped some gloves on to touch the nearest one, the darkest blue he’d ever seen.

It was… So warm. Warm and beautiful. What was this rock- No, crystal? If he got some of it back home, he could test it… He’d have to get through the crack to harvest some of it.

Leaning out a little further, he grunted. The moment he stumbled out of the crack, metal slid against metal, and as bars flipped upward to lock him in a claustrophobic cage, pain exploded in his ankle as something clamped around it. Cheers sounded nearby.

A terrified yelp spilled from his lips as he pushed and pulled at the metal. What’s going on?!

Thick, hairy hands curl around the bars of the cage, the metal screeching along the stone floor as Logan was hauled into the darkness.

“That’s four for me,” the voice closest to him grunts, “and none for you. Have you noticed that? I have.”

His hands flew to his ears. He quickly lost track of where he was, darkness and the long strides of whoever, or whatever, now had him, making it impossible. The screaming pain in his ankle had hardly subsided by the time the moving finally stopped. The only direction Logan was certain he went in was down. He started to realize why this place wasn’t marked on the map.

“Do him like the other humans, there should be an open spot close to the city,” the same voice ordered. “I’ll go update the books.”

His heart sunk. He flinched back as a long arm reached for him. The monster tugged at him even as he kicked with his unbound leg, fumbling in his pockets for his knife and swiping. “Get the hell away! Let me go!!”

The thing laughed gleefully as its slim form easily avoided his slashes. “You know,” it clamped down on Logan’s injured ankle, pain forming black spots in his vision, “those stupid crystal things were the best thing we’ve ever done for our jobs. Made things so much easier.”

Logan snarled, certain that if he could just get one hit in, it would be fine. Maybe he’d even wake up, bed sheets wrapped around his ankles instead of this millipede nightmare.

“If you don’t stop struggling,” it sang, “you’ll never be able to use that ankle again.” It squeezed tighter, digging the metal further into his flesh, Logan’s vision turning white.

He screamed and fell limp.

The thing dragged him forward by his ankle and slapped something against his neck. It crumpled and curled around like a collar, but the material was some type of metal Logan didn’t recognize. It almost… Harnessed heat. The longer it stuck to his skin, the more it burned, like holding your hand too close to fire without touching it.

It clipped a chain on the collar and dragged Logan across the dirt floor. Logan will never forget the things he saw as it led him further into the cave system.

It brought him down to an area with square holes cut in the walls, light seeping into the makeshift hallway. What could only be described as monsters peeked through the windows, watching Logan with expressions he couldn’t recognize. There was occasional hissing, chirping, incoherent English mumbling… But not a human in sight.

Slumped in the larger pen, he tried to put together what had happened for a long time after the creature left, he finally had looked down to see the bloody mess his ankle was, and the trap attached to it. It throbbed with his panicked heartbeat ever since he had given up getting it off.

“You’re such a bitch, you know that?”

An androgynous voice, sounding almost-human, echoed down the hall as two pairs of footsteps headed for his cage. Were they human? Were they going to save him?

Shifting to his feet, Logan carefully hopped back a little. A soft whine left his lips as he imagined the horror to come.

“What?! I’m a bitch?!” A louder tone answered, an almost trill to the end echoing off the cavern walls. “You!” The voice sputtered, as if trying and failing to defend itself. “You’re not even looking at me, fang boy!”

“I don’t have to look at you to know you’re a moron. You’ve tripped over more rocks than me, and I’m fucking blind.”

Two figures came into Logan’s vision. One of them was biped, and looked vaguely humanoid, but a long snout protruded from its face and in place of nails, long, black talons curled. They were sharp enough to slit Logan’s throat. The thing’s eyes, for what tiny slits they were, had no colour.

Gesturing with a broad swipe, the second figure proclaimed loudly, “So, I wanted to be fashionable and pretty for the new arrivals, Count Woe-laff! So sue me!"

“Count… Who?”

Logan gingerly hopped out of range of the claws and the cloak the louder one wore. It floated and fluttered, as if it sat on a tide. Eyes lifting to meet Logan’s, the loud one found a rock and went down hard. He squeezed out a pained breath.

The badger thing slapped a paw to its face, right above his snout. “God, you are such a moron.” It knelt down and wrapped a paw around the other’s wrist, and for a moment Logan thought those talons were going to draw blood, but the thing helped its counterpart up and patted its back roughly.

Huffing, it dusted off, just now noticing Logan. "So, I missed a safety measure or three. Did you see-? Oh! There’s a human!"

A deep rumble fell from the badger boy’s throat, presumably a laugh. “No, I don’t see. But do you know how I know anyway? Because I listen when we’re given orders.”

The two of them stopped in front of Logan’s cage. The badger held large, flat pieces of stone and ran a single talon along it. The nail wormed its way between all the grooves and indentations, face clenched in concentration.

“Logan?” It tried. “Did I say that right? You’re listed as male, is that correct?”

Mouth opening a few times, Logan managed after a few moments, "I… Yes? How do you know that?! I haven't… There weren’t any questions asked!”

“Everything I have here is first impressions, things our superiors could tell from sight. My name is Virgil, and the idiot back there is Roman. He uses he/him, I use they/them. What do you use?” They cocked their head towards Roman and mumbled, “Did I ask that correctly?”

Roman snorted softly. “I’m not an idiot, V!"

"Yes, a bit stiff and formal, but basically correct. I prefer he/him pronouns and my name is Logan. Why am I here? Can either of you get this device off of my leg?!” He balanced, using a part of the cage furthest from the two beings, uncertainty clouding his mind.

“You were unlucky,” Virgil answered, and then the rest of Logan’s words caught up with them. They snapped something in a language Logan didn’t understand, in the same implication of one spitting out a chain of curses, and asked, “Damnit, Roman, did they leave that fucking thing on again?”

“Looks like it. They pushed it in, too! Even when they struggle, that’s just mean!” Lilting sounds left his lips in much the same implied tone. “We have to get closer to get it off.”

“I’ll do it. Just make sure he doesn’t escape.” Virgil gave Roman the tablets and pulled a set of keys from one of their many pockets. They spoke as they unlocked the door. “Roman and I are assigned to guard you when you’re on good behaviour. If you act out too much, we can’t help, and you won’t like where you end up.” They knelt in front of Logan and pat the ground. “Put your ankle right here. You’re going to have to trust us, and accept the situation.”

Slowly pushing off the wall, Logan carefully slid to where Virgil indicated, voice soft and stubbornly resigned. “Do I have a choice? I don’t know where ‘here’ is or how to get home, even if I thought that I could walk or climb to get there.”

“You’re smarter than most humans they catch.” Virgil slipped a talon into a slot on the device, a thin tongue poking between their lips. They plunged the talon deeper, and the device popped off, ripping off some of Logan’s skin with it.

“FUCK! That hurts!” He groaned. He tugged his foot close and rocked, pressing at the bleeding parts of his foot. He glared. “What good does being smart do me? I’m still here.”

“I’m sorry.” They sounded genuine. “I didn’t want to warn you, it would have just freaked you out.” Virgil stood and left the cage, closing and locking the door behind them. They took the tablets back from Roman. “We don’t have a lot of human food. Do you have… Uh, fuck, what did that girl call it? Come on, Roman, speak up, you know way more about humans than I do.”

Roman jumped a little. “Which girl, the one that had those little bars in her bag or the one that said she couldn’t eat nuts?”

“The one who couldn’t eat nuts. She said it’d kill her. We weren’t aware humans weren’t able to eat all human foods. That’s so fucking weird… You guys are fucking weird, you know that?”

“Those are called allergies. Sensitivity in differing degrees to parts of our environment. I don’t have an allergy to anything. That I’ve encountered so far at least?”

A horrible grating sound sliced through the air as Virgil noted that down with their talon. “And how old are you? We’ve tried guessing age before but another thing humans are fucking weird with, you guys don’t look the same ever.”

Covering his ears, Logan gritted his teeth. “Twenty- I’m twenty years old.”

Virgil noted that down as well and, to Logan’s immense relief, pocketing the tablets. “Okay. So what’s gonna happen is I’m gonna grab you some food while Princey here watches you, then-”

“VIRGIL! ROMAN!” An impatient voice echoed through the corridor, rapidly coming closer. “I’M HERE TO MEET THE NEW HUMAN!”

“Get lost, Janus,” Virgil growled. “The human’s not open for meet and greets yet!”

Logan hissed softly, pushing back against the wall. No more new things…

At first glance, the rapidly approaching creature looked human. It almost startled hope in Logan, until it came into the light.

It was not human.

Its skin was ghostly pale in the spaces it wasn’t covered in shimmering green scales. Its eyes were slit like a snake’s, its fangs poking out between its lips. It had similar talons to Virgil’s, but a fraction of the length and looked almost manicured.

A dazzling grin slid across its face as its eyes landed on Logan. “Oh, hello darling.” It frowned, gaze dropping to his ankle. “Oh, dear, did these two do that to you?”

Virgil shoved the thing. “You can’t keep doing this every fucking time a human arrives. Just because you meet them first doesn’t mean anyone can guarantee you a lower price.”

“P-Price?!” Logan trembled. “You mean I’m to be sold… Like property?!” His vision swam. He curled up tight around his injured limb, rocking slowly as he panicked. “Maybe I should just fucking run… Hope I find a damn cliff or something’s claw…”

All three of them jumped in visible panic, jumping over each other to discourage him.

“-horrible, horrible idea-”

“-please, darling, you’ll only get hurt-”

“-you won’t make it far enough and the punishment will make you regret trying-”

The snake thing wrapped a hand around one of the bars. “I know it looks bleak now, but if you trust me, convince the others that I would be the best buyer… You’ll be happy they took you in the first place.”

Logan laughed with a snort. “Why the fuck would I want something like that?!”

“You’re going to confuse him,” Virgil growled. “Don’t make him think he has any say. Just go and wait for his display day, okay?”

“You’ll look fabulous! And certainly end up with a better owner than snake lips there!” Roman blocked the view with his body, winking.

“I can make you happy!” It insisted. “Please, don’t listen to them! My name is Janus. What’s yours? Let me get to know you, darling.”

“Happy?! Go suck an egg and choke.” Turning, Logan tugged at his ankle, turning to Virgil. “Is there any medical treatment? Water? Clean cloth?”

“Yes, I’ll bring you water with your dinner. Roman, did you-”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Janus did not seem sorry, “but I’m not familiar with that human expression? Was that- Was-”

“You were rejected,” Virgil said flatly. “When are you going to accept that no one wants you?”

“I don’t trust any of you and I don’t like this one bit,” Logan muttered softly.

Janus hesitated, then spun on his heels and left.

Virgil sighed. “Roman, did you remember the gauze?”

Producing a roll from a bag on his hip, Roman nodded. "Of course!”

Virgil took it and unlocked the cage again. “I’ll go grab your food after I get this wrapped up, okay? Did they hurt you anywhere else?” They sat and patted the same spot on the floor.

Slowly stretching out again, Logan thought. “The collar-thing felt like it was burning… But I don’t think so?” Looking at his hands, he hummed.

“Bruises on his hands at least,” Roman piped up, “probably all over from those damn cages.”

Virgil wrapped Logan’s ankle and held out their paws, palms up. “Give me your hands.”

Carefully, Logan held them out, palm down. “What is the purpose of taking humans? What use are we to you?”

“It’s different for each buyer.” Virgil’s dark skin was surprisingly soft as their fingers rubbed along Logan’s palms. “The simple answer is that there’s a huge market for it. There are rumours that people buy humans because they want to take out their anger at being locked down here while you all are free up there, but I think that’s bullshit. We could go up there if we wanted, we just don’t. I think the people who think that are cowards.”

Logan snorted. “Everything I’ve seen here is like a cross between a fantasy tale and a nightmare… Things most people don’t believe even exist! There’s no way there’s a lock or force keeping you here! That’s just not logical!"

“Exactly.” Virgil grinned, squeezing Logan’s hands. “You walked right in, didn’t you? What’s stopping the ones desiring to walk right out?”

"Well… I was exploring, curious. I rather fell in? It was a doorway, though!” He blushed, thinking back. “Seems it was a trap, though, from what they said.”

“Yeah,” Virgil mumbled as they rose to their feet. “It’s those crystals. Humans go crazy for them. The severity depends on the person, but it just makes you want to know… Everything about them. And you’ll put that priority over any others.” Virgil slipped out of the cage, then shut and locked the doors. “Humans are so stupid,” they sighed, and left to get Logan’s food.

Logan curled in on himself. Did I upset them? “Oh…"

Roman hummed softly and slipped into place at the door. "Should we get you more coverings? Are you too cold?"

Pausing, Logan shook his head. Virgil came back a while later with a tray of what looked close to oatmeal, and a few bottles of water. They slid it through a gap in the bars, towards the bottom.

“You should try to sleep after you eat.” They shoved a thick roll of cloth through as well. “Tomorrow’s going to be a big day. You’re going to meet one of our superiors, and she’ll be preparing you for your display day. Please, please obey us, and obey her. If you misbehave, Roman and I will not be able to help you.”

"I… Okay, I’ll do my best. Thank you for the advice. What- What exactly is a display day?"

“One of our superiors will take you to the city, along with some other humans, and, well, put you on display. People come by to meet you and look at you, and bids will start.”

"Oh… Has anyone ever… Gone home?”

Virgil hesitated, expression darkening. “You mean… Left the cave?”

“Yes. Is there a chance that I will ever see the surface again?” He raised his head to watch the expression of this strangely compassionate being. “Will I ever see my home again… Or am I here until I die?”

“Don’t ask questions like that,” Virgil hissed. “That’s exactly the kind of thing that will land you in a place you don’t want to be in. I’m sorry, I’m sure it must be hard to accept, but this is your best option now.”

“Oh…" His head dipped, resting on his knees. "That tells me what I need to know, I guess.”

“It’ll be okay,” Virgil promised. “If you’re smart, you can find yourself a good owner who’ll make you happy.” They looked over their shoulder. “Roman, will you set up our tent? I’m taking second watch tonight.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “Been setting it up as you two gossips talked, guess you really are blind, batboy!”

Virgil looked at them incredulously. “Do you think I’m exaggerating when I say I’m blind?”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh softly, a hand muffling the sound as Roman teased in that other language, causing Virgil to swipe at him.

Virgil finally just rolled their eyes. “Goodnight, Roman. Don’t be stupid, wake me up for my shift, okay?”

He huffed softly. “Fine… Sleep well, emo nightmare!”

“Goodnight, Logan. Let Roman know if you need something.” Virgil ducked into the tent and zipped it up behind them.

Logan spent most of the night struggling to sleep. The blanket Virgil gave him barely softened the hard stone floor, and every time he fell asleep for a few minutes, he jerked awake, body insisting he was in danger. Eventually, he settled for leaning against the back wall of the enclosure and mentally reciting the constellations to try and remain calm. At some point he must have passed out, because he jerked awake when the door opened, an unfamiliar voice speaking with the two guards from earlier.

“How has he been behaving?” The feminine voice asked.

“Perfectly,” Virgil said dryly. “Just went right to bed last night, didn’t even think about escaping.”

“Hmm. That’s perfect. Have you noticed anything strange about him, anything to take note of?”

Roman chuckled. “He seems quite intelligent, if a bit scared. The first crew beat him up a bit and I’m not sure if he’s having issues from that first handling?”

“Hmm,” she sounded indifferent, “I’ll check when we get him to the tailor. We’ll definitely have to market his intelligence, most humans are so dumb.”

Slowly pushing up, Logan hummed softly as dread crept into his stomach. Watching her body language for clues, he steeled himself for whatever she might do to ‘display’ him.

She talked with the two a little longer. She looked remarkably similar to Virgil.

She unlocked the cage door and beckoned Logan forward. “Are you awake? Come here, please.”

“I am.” Standing, he slowly approached, watching those long claws carefully. “Am I allowed to speak, ma'am?”

Her barely-there eyes widened a bit. “Wow, you guys weren’t kidding. He is smart. Yes, Logan, you can speak, but keep it to a minimum. I presume Virgil and Roman told you where you’ll go when you misbehave, and I feel it’s important to tell you that our rules and their rules will not be the same.”

“What are those rules, ma'am? I would prefer to avoid punishment if possible.” Gulping as she approached, he fought not to run.

She gracefully slid her talons under his collar and brought him closer, clipping on a chain. She gently tugged, like beckoning a dog, and stepped out of the cage.

“The obvious ones,” she told him as they walked through the dark corridors, Roman and Virgil flanking them, “like don’t try to escape, don’t be rude, don’t attack anyone. Any others, you have permission to break once, since you won’t know, then any time after that you’ll be assigned new guards.”

He nodded. If he were to break any rules, it would certainly be fighting back or being rude. “Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am.”

“You’re very welcome, Logan. You’re very polite.”

She took them down a route Logan didn’t recognize, and seemingly all at once, the cave walls turned into carved out homes, the narrow hall opened up into a huge cavern bustling with noise, and he was surrounded in life. It was a complete city, underground, and crawling with monsters. “Roman, please visit the office and update the books while Virgil and I bring him to the tailor.”

Smiling wide, Roman saluted. He took the tablets from Virgil before turning with a flourish. “Certainly! I’ll meet back up with you there!"

Virgil’s boss led him through the city. Despite her lack of vision, she never ran into anyone or anything. She brought them to a tiny little building made of jagged rock, some of the door crumbling as she pulled it open.

“Go in, now.”

Stumbling slightly, Logan ducked inside. His eyes slowly adjusted to the lowered light. He could barely make out a small shop with piles of fabrics, some chains and restraints on the walls. "H-Hello?"

Scratching sounded as a figure rounded the mounds, low syllabant voice purring as wings and claws came into view. "Greetings, human… Hand over the chain, Sylvia? I need to see all of him easily, you know!”

A griffin.

Sylvia chuckled and passed it over. “He’s very intelligent, so we’ll need an outfit to highlight that, Rose, make sure everyone who sees him knows.”

Rose’s paw looped the chain over a stand as she drew him in closer. “So I see… His eyes are watching everything. Maybe if we highlight them….” Grabbing some materials, she draped them to check the shade. She sketched concepts with soft mutters. “Scholar… Robes?”

Sylvia hummed appreciatively and found a seat. Virgil stood guard by the door. “Yes, I’m sure that’ll work,” Sylvia said.

“Of course, darling, I AM the best!” Moving Logan with firm but gentle paws, she measured and worked on creating a heavy-looking robe with colours that complimented his features. It made him look wise, and yet hampered movement so he wasn’t tempted to run. Showing him off when she finished, she motioned for Logan to turn. “I would add some makeup for those eyes if you really want him to sell at mark up, sweetie!”

“I’ll mention that to the stylist tomorrow. I trust you’ve done a wonderful job, if there’s anything the boss has to say I’ll bring him back before closing hours.”

She stood and pulled a few gems out of the bag at her hip. One of them was an amethyst, but Logan didn’t recognize the rest. She held them out in Rose’s general direction.

Taking the stones, Rose purred and traded them for Logan’s chain. “A pleasure as always!”

“Virgil, come take this.” She held out the chain, and Virgil felt around until they found her wrist, and felt their way to the end of the chain. “Wait outside for Roman, then get him back to his cage and make him something to eat. I’m going to make sure the work on his display cage is going smoothly.”

“Sure.” They gestured for Logan to follow, taking it on faith that Logan saw and tugging him out the door.

Logan stumbled as he adjusted to the change in leading style. “Virgil?”

Sylvia passed them outside and disappeared into the crowd of people. Virgil leaned against the wall of the tailor. “What’s up?”

“Just a question. Am I to wear this outfit only for presentation, or is this to be my new daily attire?” Logan touched the navy fabric, careful not to mess it up.

“We’re just fitting you for your display day. After we get the boss’ approval, you’ll change back into your original clothes and we’ll keep that safe until everything’s ready. Why?”

“Oh… They are much warmer than what I currently have. The space I was in, it’s colder than I’m used to?"

Virgil stepped forward and clumsily rubbed one of their paws over the side of Logan’s face. “Hm. You’re right, I don’t think humans’ skin is supposed to be this cold. I’ll grab you a hoodie when I get your breakfast. Jesus, do you see Princey anywhere? He’s so fucking distractable.”

Shivering, Logan leaned into the touch. "Mmm…"

Roman scoffed softly, coming up behind Virgil. "Petting him without me, V? You’re bonding nicely!”

They dropped their paw with a sigh. “He’s cold. You should carry him back. Body heat should be able to warm him up just as well as fabric.”

“Oh!” Stepping in, Roman scooped Logan up after a quick consideration on how to position him. “Okay! He’s so light… Are they supposed to be this small?”

Virgil shrugged as they made their way back. “I don’t know. Like I said, humans almost never look the same. Feel below his chest, can you feel his ribs through his skin?”

Logan squeaked as Roman poked at him. “I am not underweight!”

“Just let Roman check,” Virgil sighed. “We need to make sure we’re feeding you correctly.”

Blushing a bright red, Logan nodded and tried to relax.

Roman hummed softly. “Not easily… Skinny but like just not a lot of natural padding? He is super cold though… Shivering.”

“Yeah, like I said, you gotta warm him up. Use friction.”

Chuckling, Roman cuddled Logan close, hands sliding under his clothes to rub gently. “Got it, V!”

They brought him back to his holding cage, Virgil holding out his old clothes. “Go ahead and get changed, I need those.”

Turning for modesty even though he knew it was useless, Logan nodded. He held out the robes to Roman. “Here… Might I request something warm for food? It helps.”

“Of course. We have some soups that are safe for humans. I’ll be right back.”

Roman grinned and settled Logan in his lap, stroking gently. “Soooo… Do you want to talk while V’s doing the boring stuff?”

He blushed and cuddled into Roman’s chest. “Sure?”

“Awesome!” Petting Logan’s hair, he bounced a little. “So, what do you do for fun? Do you live alone? 20 is above the age of leaving your parent’s territory, right?”

“It varies from person to person. It’s not an abnormal time to be on your own.” He shrugged a little. Somehow, thinking of his old life seemed… Bleeker. “I read a lot. Um, I did a lot of exploring, obviously. I liked finding things I didn’t know about and taking it home to run some tests, see if there’s anything interesting. And, uh, yeah. I lived alone.”

“Oh! So humans’ life patterns vary? There’s no set time to leave your first home, find a mate?” Roman’s eyes were wide, fascinated.

Logan nodded slowly. “Yeah… I mean, you can do whatever you want, really. Do you… Have a ‘set time’ to find a mate?”

He blushed. “Kind of? My species has a limit on how long you have to search. We have a token that we’re to give to our mates after courtship… and if you don’t, we kind of… fade?"

Logan frowned deeply. “That’s horrible. What if you don’t want a partner?”

Roman’s head tipped in confusion. "Who wouldn’t want a life partner? The world is lonely sometimes!”

“Well, plenty of people upstairs.” Logan turned to face Roman, wrapping his legs around him. He was slowly warming up, but not quick enough for his liking. “I mean… Well, are we talking about ‘life partners’ or ‘mates?’”

“Oh! You separate the sexual pairs from the companionship ones?” Roman chuckled. “That makes more sense now!”

He nodded, hesitantly resting his head on Roman’s shoulder. “Yeah. Some people only want one or the other, or neither. I mean, most everyone wants someone to be with for their lives, but… More separated. It’s hard to explain. People can just do whatever they want with their own relationships.”

Roman hummed, sliding off his outer covering layer to hold Logan closer, fingers playing with his hair. “It’s complicated. We do have some help, though? Our tokens can act as a guide, giving a nudge if we’re blind to our feelings!"

“Hmm… That’s really-”

“VIRGIL? ROMAN? ARE YOU BACK YET?”

Wincing, Roman groaned and tucked Logan against him. "Son of a sea cow! GO AWAY!”

Janus appeared in the light, looking flustered. “Oh- Logan! You’re out of your cage!” He smiled shakily. “How did you sleep? Oh- Are you cold?” He started to shrug off his jacket.

Logan snickered softly. He patted Roman’s hair as he hissed at Janus and bared his fangs.

“I am,” Logan said, “I slept some… Roman is taking care of me, but, thank you?"

“Oh, I don’t mind!” Janus messily grabbed some gems out of one of the pockets and stuffed them in his pants’ pocket, then held out the jacket. The inside was covered in patches of various fabrics, some of those patches with patches of their own. “I was hoping you’d be more up to talk today? Are you busy?”

Deciding it to be rude to refuse the gift, Logan slid into the jacket carefully. It wasn’t very comfortable— Scratchy, the material stiff. "Well… Um, I don’t think I’m allowed to before presentation day? I don’t want trouble.”

“Janus.” An irritated voice echoed through the tunnel, and Virgil came into view. “Why are you back?”

“I’m trying to talk to Logan.” Frustration bit into his voice, Janus’ hands curling into fists. “Is that a problem?”

“Yes,” Virgil snapped. “He doesn’t want you. You can bid on him tomorrow like everyone else.”

“Thank you for your interest, Janus… But perhaps some other time?” Logan set his head on Roman’s shoulder, confused by the odd snake creature’s persistence.

One of Janus’ fangs poked into his lip. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Virgil set the tray of food down and came over to Logan with a thick hoodie. They felt over Logan’s shoulders and frowned in confusion, then anger.

“Take that off,” they snapped.

Blushing, Logan quickly obeyed. “Sorry… It seemed rude to refuse?”

Virgil tossed the jacket on the floor, one of their talons catching and ripping another hole. “When Sylvia said you couldn’t be rude, that certainly does not apply to him. Don’t trust him. Don’t take anything he gives you.” Virgil wrapped the hoodie around Logan’s shoulders and patted him softly. “Let’s get back in your cage, okay?”

Janus picked up his jacket silently, and left.

“Oh… why?"

“He doesn’t deserve to be around humans. You don’t know how things work down here, so you wouldn’t understand, but trust us. He should not be around humans.” Virgil held out his food tray once Logan was in the cage.

Taking the tray, Logan leaned against the bars, wishing for Roman’s warmth again but sipping the soup happily. "Do you have any other advice?"

“You’ve been doing fine,” Virgil promised. “Just get some rest for your display day.”

"Are most humans bought after just one display day?” His forehead pinched at the thought of being uprooted again.

“No. There are usually four, and you’ll be waiting at least a month. How long exactly depends. Bids are open for at least a month, and depending on the popularity of the subject- You -the date might be extended to try and raise a higher price.”

“O-Oh… and I’ll be kept here, or a different place between displays?” I wish I had my notebooks, my things… I dropped all that outside the hole when I fell in.

“It depends on your behaviour. If you behave, you’ll be kept with us until you’re bought. If you break a rule, though, you’ll immediately be switched guards until you’re either bought or the superiors are convinced you won’t act out again.”

Shaking his head, Logan nibbled his bottom lip. “I meant is there a way to earn perhaps… Warmer space, things to distract myself with? I am used to activity, knowledge-seeking.”

Virgil frowned. “I’m sorry. No, that’ll have to wait. You can ask your owner when you’re bought.”

His shoulders slumped. “Oh… This will be a very long month then.” I’m to be bored and confused and scared, lovely.

Virgil headed back to Roman.

Blushing a little, Roman pulled out a small package and handed it to Virgil. “Oh, before I forget, I saw this new tea at the vendors! It’s supposed to be super calming and it smells really good!"

Virgil pressed the bag to their snout, sniffing it curiously. “Mm! Spicy! Thanks, Ro!” They jumped to their feet. “I’m gonna go make some, do you want any?”

Preening a little, Roman made a little chirp of happiness. "Sure!”

Logan arched an eyebrow. Is… Is Roman courting Virgil?!

Virgil squeezed his hand and rushed away. Logan arched an eyebrow. “So… You did say gifts were instrumental to the courtship process, did you not?”

Blushing bright red, Roman turned to Logan. “Yeah… Doesn’t have to be expensive, just thought out!”

Logan finished his soup and hugged his knees. “How many gifts have you given them? Do they understand what you’re doing?”

Roman hummed softly as he thought. “There was the material for a new hoodie, some repair on their clothes… The tea, a few meals. I don’t know if they do, but I hope so! They’re so sure that nobody would want them, silly Clawsian!"

“How long do you have until your, um, deadline?”

Looking down, Roman tugged at his cloak gently. "Six lunar cycles…"

Logan’s eyes blew wide. “What-? That’s- Tell them! You have to tell them!”

Roman blush deepened. "Well, I don’t want to make them become my mate out of a sense of duty, to somehow save me? They’re so honourable…. Kind.”

“That’s-”

“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

Two mugs clanked against the stone and Virgil charged forward. They felt up Roman’s arms, his shoulders, neck, finally cupping his face, then tilted his head to kiss him hard.

Melting into the strong hands, Roman moaned, kissing back with equal passion as he revelled in the caring touches. “Virgil~”

Logan laughed. “I would agree… They seem quite amenable!”

Virgil slid their talons into Roman’s hair. After a moment or two, he pulled away, voice ragged. “If you ever put yourself in danger for me, ever again, I will break up with you so fucking fast, Princey-”

Face bright red, Roman nodded quickly and chased the touch. “O- Okay! I promise to tell you if I’m ever in danger again!"

Virgil poked his nose. “Good.”

They grabbed their mugs of tea and settled against Roman’s side. Virgil’s smelled approximately ten times spicier than Roman’s.

Nuzzling lightly, Roman smiled. "Does that mean we’re together then, you accept me as your mate?!”

“Depends on how good this tea is.” Virgil took in a long sip, eyes fluttering shut. “Yes, I accept.”

Laughing, Roman snuggled in and sipped his own. Virgil finished the mug and rested their head on Roman’s shoulder, falling asleep for a nap while Roman took watch.

The sub of this duo, Virgil, does commissions! Earn yourself 300 words for each coffee and the knowledge that you’re helping me pay the bills and start my own business

You can read my writing specifically here

#logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #prinxiety #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic janus #not safe for sanders #ds writes #cave boys #logan #virgil #roman #janus

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merthurkissfest · 5 years

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Merthur Kiss Fest 2019 Masterlist

The Merthur Kiss Fest has concluded for yet another year! We're sad to see it go, but so very glad that it happened. Quick apology for the wait, as this was meant to go up a bit ago already. But thank you all for your patience. <3

We have a total of (drumroll please)... 61 works this year! That's incredible!!

A huge thank you and round of applause to our amazing writers and artists for their wonderful contributions, whose hard work is at the heart and soul of this fest, as well as to the creator and my fellow mod, @arthur-of-the-pendragons, who did most of the work putting this together and keeping it running, and last but not least, to the rest of the community who spread the word, shared the work, and left kudos and comments!

I know I speak for the both of us when I say that none of this would've been possible without the love, dedication, and generosity of the Merlin community. So from the bottom of our tiny little fangirl hearts, Thank you. Under the cut is the masterlist of all the works. I would like to ask that the creators check over it and let me know ASAP if there's any mistakes, or anything I missed! Thank you!

✧･ﾟ: * 🌸 SPRING 🌸 *:･ﾟ✧

Of Sunrises and Stardust by Victori Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 903 Summary: "Merlin had lived through a thousand springs, and had learned that nothing ever began again. Spring wasn’t hope; it was a cycle, one that came and went as Merlin stood still and watched it fly by. Spring was life as a reminder of death." OR Merlin has been waiting too long, and is on the verge of giving up. But his destiny was written in the stars, and it's not willing to let him go that easily.

A Better Fate than Wisdom: About a Secret by Leandra Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 3200 Summary: In which Arthur is drunk, Merlin is inconvenienced and secrets are kept, but barely.The first part in a four-part series for the Merlin/Arthur Kiss Fest 2019. Each part will feature a different season, a different set of kisses and at least one trope :-)Series Title comes from the e.e.cummings poem "since feeling is first": and kisses are a better fate than wisdom. MERRY XMAS!!!

April Violets (Five First Kisses) by athousandvictories [FIC+ART] Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 5604 Summary: Merlin's journey to his last first kiss, or five stories of new beginnings. A set of behind-the-scenes moments beginning before Merlin goes to Camelot. Vaguely canon compliant until the end. Plenty of drunken idiocy and poorly executed flirtation. Because we deserve it.

In Which Arthur Gets Jealous of an Owl by AeonTheDimensionalGirl Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 3482 Summary: Arthur decided he must officially be going insane if he was suddenly craving Merlin’s liking after seeing the owl give fond peaks to the raven haired servant.

A Springtime Betrothal by tehfanglyfish Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2213 Summary: It’s a beautiful spring day – the perfect setting for young royals to enter into a betrothal. Too bad Princess Elena is convinced that Arthur is a would-be assassin, out to kill her with a poisoned kiss. To prove that there is no danger, Arthur has no choice but to kiss Merlin, leading to several unexpected, though not unwelcome, developments.

Spring Night (oh so wrong) by CandiceWright Rating: E Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1509 Summary: Because ever since Gwen left Arthur’s looks have been hotter than his touches, his few words filled with unspoken promises that Merlin is scared to take. He’s scared because he doesn’t want it to be just a remedy for his fractured pride, doesn't want it to be done out of spite. But he does want it, he really does. And now Arthur's gaze is heavy upon him, making his body shiver in anticipation and all he can think is this is wrong, wrong. But then Arthur tells him to come to his bed, and how could Merlin say no to that?

Weaving Crowns by Mischel [FIC+ART] Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 569 Summary: Now that Merlin and Arthur are both kings and married, they hardly have time for each other anymore. Merlin's decided to do something about it, and he takes Arthur to a meadow, where they can finally have a moment alone to- make flower crowns? Well, that's not what Arthur expected. (But maybe that's exactly what he needed.)

Blossom by Blossom by Caledonia Rating: Not Rated Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1614 Summary: Merlin builds floral crowns in advance of the spring celebrations, and there is a secret hidden in Arthur's."Blossom by blossom the spring begins." Algernon Charles Swinburne

Spring (cleaning) Kisses by Lao-Pendragon [ART] Rating: Not Rated

Young Man’s Fancy by Caledonia Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1866 Summary: Merlin's mum has moved to a quaint village with a strangely competitive spring tradition. Cue Merlin being clumsy and Arthur manning the first aid tent. "In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love." - Alfred Lord Tennyson

Love in Spring by CallMeHopeless and Maryluis [FIC+ART] Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2026 Summary: Arthur and Merlin are in a secret relationship - for now. Hiding their love takes a toll on them both and communicating with each other isn’t much better...

King in a (flower) crown by brokenfannibal_art [ART] Rating: G Summary: I saw a post a while back about how the children of the lower town probably make flower crowns for Merlin. And lets be honest Arthur would absolutely melt when he saw Merlin wearing one. Of course Merlin would make one for Arthur as well.

The gifts from Spring by Shadow_Hole Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1487 Summary: Once, Gaius had told him that Spring, would eventually notice Merlin’s hardships and will gift him with what he needed the most, a ‘helping hand from nature’ as the old men had said at the time. Merlin knew that this wasn't true.

True Love’s Kiss by broken_fannibal Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 3705 Summary: Arthur was cursed by a water spirit to drown himself in a certain lake. Will they be able to find a way to lift the curse? A race against time begins.

I Need Your Hand by FervidAsAFlame Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2781 Summary: Gwen manages to drag her best friend Arthur to the university’s semi-formal dance, even though he won’t stop sulking that his boyfriend can’t make it. Luckily, Gwen’s got a surprise for him.

Dog Walking Disaster by surprisinglyblunt Rating: M Chapters: 3/4 Word Count: 4540 Summary: When Merlin finds a lost dog after one of the worst encounters of his life, he thinks fate might be punishing him for something, but is it really punishment or is the universe actually on his side this time?

✧･ﾟ: * 🔆 SUMMER 🔆 *:･ﾟ✧

Merlin’s Knight by AeonTheDimensionalGirl Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 8537 Summary: He comes in the dark of night; never speaking or letting his full face show, but Merlin appreciates the company anyway.After all, who’s foolish enough to venture into the dungeons and comfort an accused sorcerer?

A Better Fate than Wisdom: About a Transgression by Leandra Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 5738 Summary: Merlin had joined him in the water, coming towards him with long, even strokes of his arm. He was a good swimmer, better than most of Arthur’s knights and he caught up with Arthur quickly, briefly ducking and diving underneath the water to emerge just in front of him with a grin and water streaming down his face, his hair plastered against his skull, his ears seemingly more prominent than usual. Arthur felt his earlier confusion slip away. It was just Merlin. Clumsy, bumbling, ridiculous Merlin with his silly ears and too insolent grin.-*- After riding all day during a heatwave, Arthur and Merlin stop for a swim. A bit of roughhousing turns awkward and Arthur finds out that silly ears or not, there's just something about Merlin ;-)

Going Underground by Caledonia Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1628 Summary: Merlin is stuck on a sweltering hot underground train and he considers getting off and walking home instead. That is until a rather handsome blond man boards the train beside Merlin and things begin to get interesting.

Arthur - The Prince to never get anything by CallMeHopeless and Maryluis [FIC+ART] Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2779 Summary: 5 Times Merlin does something nice for people who are not Arthur. And one time, when it's finally Arthur's turn.

Hold My Hand, Let the Waves Come by Mischel Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 834 Summary: The world is full of new and exciting experiences for Arthur now that he came back from Avalon. But standing only in his "special swimming underwear" on an overcrowded beach where it feels like hundreds of people are watching him, doesn't seem like one of them.Merlin is there to help him realize that even with many more people than Arthur is used to, it can still be fun when they're together :)

And Turn the White Snow Red as Strawberries in Summertime by Caledonia Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 910 Summary: Arthur and Merlin conjure memories of summer while cooped up during a winter storm.

Boys of Summer by Victori Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 4450 Summary: "It started, as most problems in Merlin’s life, with a boy. A bloody gorgeous boy, with eyes as blue as the sea and wet blond hair plastered to his forehead. An Adonis if there ever was one, complete with a Roman nose. A boy who Merlin spilled Rocky Road all over in a stunning display of clumsiness."ORMerlin and Arthur met, fell in love, and messed it up. Maybe their summer romance isn't as far gone as they think.

Summer of New Beginnings (what I would do for you) by CandiceWright Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1801 Summary: That night Merlin sees just how deep the wound of Agravaine’s betrayal is. He wants to hold him and tell him that everything will be okay, that he won’t have to go through the same thing again but he can’t because he’s betraying him far more than anyone else ever has and it hurts.

Sweet Summer Kisses by Nattymctatty [ART] Rating: Not Rated

Can We Always Be This Close by tehfanglyfish Rating: E Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 7982 Summary: Merlin takes a trip to Ealdor to tend his mother’s farm while she visits a friend in another village. He thinks he’ll have a week of solitude until Arthur decides to tag along. The days they spend together lead to numerous revelations.Or… the one where the author indulges Arthur and allows him to run off to a farm with Merlin.

Arthur’s Flowers by lefayart [ART] Rating: Not Rated Summary: Arthur gets what he asked for.... but only because he asked nicely.

A Day at the Lake by Impala_Chick Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1080 Summary: It's too hot in the Castle, so Arthur and Merlin sneak off to the lake to cool off.

✧･ﾟ: * 🍁 FALL 🍁 *:･ﾟ✧

Trembling Fingers and Sure Strides by arsenicandsunshine Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2474 Summary: It's a beautiful day, the birds are singing, the sun is shining. Merlin's nervous as fuck. For no good reason, either. It's a tournament, like any other tournament. Nothing to indicate Arthur is in danger of dying. At least, not today.

Take Me Apart by tehfanglyfish Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1212 Summary: One otherwise dull autumn day, Arthur meets an insolent stranger in the Camelot marketplace who claims to be able to take him apart with less than one blow. Arthur decides to let him try.

A Better Fate than Wisdom: About Attraction by Leandra Rating: E Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 5861 Summary: “Seriously, Merlin,” Arthur drawled, stepping closer and halting his hands, “you are so terribly clumsy, it’s a wonder you haven’t cut something off with your sickle that isn’t a rye ear.” He reached with steady fingers, hooking the waterskin safely back into Merlin’s belt. They were standing close, so close, and Arthur’s hands were at his waist and Merlin, who was already flustered, felt his heart skip a beat. Please, he thought, please, not knowing what it really was he wanted. He sighed in relief when Arthur stepped back to pick up his sickle again and bent to retrieve his own. *-* Sex pollen, a rye field, filthy kissing and too many feelings.

Of Foreign Nobility and Hidden Magic by AeonTheDimensionalGirl Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 5709 Summary: Merlin’s fair skin should not be covered in dark purple bruises.

Kissing It Better by Mischel Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 685 Summary: Merlin and Arthur are on an important mission, but the weather betrays them and they end up being chased through a forest all the way to a cliff. There are only two options now - jump or be killed, and, well . . . kissing isn't one of them. So . . . what are you doing, Arthur?

I love you with or without fleas by CallMeHopeless and Maryluis [FIC+ART] Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1627 Summary: Morgana challenges Arthur to kiss the Person he loves most...

From Love We Fall (I want to understand) by CandiceWright Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1138 Summary: Merlin doesn’t talk to Arthur after his betrothal to Gwen. He helps with the preparations, he can’t not, but he can’t bear to talk to Arthur after what he did. And Arthur makes no effort to talk to him either. His eyes still follow him while he’s doing his chores, refusing to utter a single word, not even to explain. Not that Merlin would listen to anything he has to say. Because after all they’ve been through, after what they’ve shared he deserves more than him just fucking him and leaving him alone. He feels used, betrayed. And he knows in his heart that it wasn’t meant to last, but he knows just as much that what they had was real, the love was there. But he can’t do it anymore, not like this. Not when he feels like he can’t get out of bed every morning, when every step he takes feels like torture, when he’s forced to see everyone’s happiness at the prospect of having a new and wonderful queen.

Foiled By Fall by MapleBreeze Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1597 Summary: Arthur decides to pick flowers as an anonymous gift for Merlin but is hit with the realization that it is Autumn and this is no longer a simple task. But this is only the first way his plan goes wrong.

Deliration of Love by arsenicandsunshine Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2653 Summary: Tall. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Shimmers in the sun. Is an utter prat. How could anyone not fall in love with Arthur Pendragon? Don't fall in love with destiny. Merlin has given up any hope of those deepest secrets of his ever coming to light and resigned himself to being happy because Arthur was happy. With someone else. Arthur may just surprise him once again. Or. In sorting through his feelings after banishing Gwen, Arthur realizes there's another person he's been stifling his emotions for.

Dead Ends and New Beginnings by Caledonia Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1827 Summary: On a beautiful, sunny autumn day Merlin agrees to accompany his friends to a corn maze, not telling any of them that he's just a little bit claustrophobic. He ends up in a dead-end of the maze with only Arthur where Arthur tries to calm him and comfort him by sharing a fear of his own.

Lavender by Excaliburstark Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1373 Summary: Merlin likes to please his king and Arthur likes his baths.

✧･ﾟ: * ❄️ WINTER ❄️ *:･ﾟ✧

Well I Won’t Be Your Winter by Caledonia Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1582 Summary: Stranded in a cave during a winter blizzard, Merlin must use magic to light the fire. He knows this will be a death sentence for himself, but hopefully, Arthur will be saved. But first, Merlin will fulfil the promise he had made himself."I am going to do something now that will make you want to kill me, and then I am going to do something that will make it easier."

Even The Weariest River by Caledonia Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1306 Summary: Arthur is offered many things in life that he does not want, and the one thing he does want he believes he is utterly unworthy of.(I'm sorry- this one is quite angsty-read the tags, please <3)

Blame it on the Mistletoe by Caledonia Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 792 Summary: Merlin works for Arthur which means he's out of bounds. Except maybe it's time to change that...Or, why you should never invite your sister as your date to the office Christmas Party.

popcorn & prats by cominupforair Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 3434 Summary: In which Merlin really wants to spend NYE on his own, but Arthur is a prat.

Kiss Him! by tehfanglyfish Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1291 Summary: After being abducted by an infuriating dragon, Arthur finds Merlin unresponsive, suffering ill-effects from a sorcerer's attack. According to the dragon, there's only way for Arthur to save him.

One Thing To Make You Mine by FervidAsAFlame Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 9907 Summary: When Arthur asks for Merlin’s help with asking someone out for Valentine’s Day, Merlin does his best to give his friend excellent advice -- even if he’d rather it was him Arthur was asking out. Unsurprisingly, Arthur seems up to the task of pulling this mystery man, but Merlin can’t help but wonder – who could he be? And why does Arthur keep testing all his methods on Merlin first?

Untitled by Kawaroki [ART] Rating: Not Rated Summary: merthur kissfest: winter ❄

Superstitious Love Confessions by CallMeHopeless and MaryLuis [FIC+ART] Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2821 Summary: Arthur is gifted a plant. It is not mistletoe. So what is he doing holding it over his head?

No Scorching Sun Nor Freezing Coly (Or Interrupting Owls and Knights) by AeonTheDimentionalGirl Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 3620 Summary: It’s moments like these, in which they’re not master and servant or king and (secret) warlock, just Arthur and Merlin, that Merlin most treasures.

A Better Fate than Wisdom: About Truth by Leandra Rating: E Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 10117 Summary: “Was everything else a lie, too?” he asked darkly, hating the desperation in his tone, thinking of the friendship he valued so much, of Merlin laughing at his jokes, of fighting side by side and how it had given him strength again and again, knowing that Merlin would always be there, would always choose to stand with him, no matter what. Of Merlin’s soft sob of pleasure, gasped into his mouth as his fingers clawed the small of his back. *-* Arthur finds out that Merlin has magic. Conclusion of the series.

It was all yellow/they shine for you by Excaliburstark Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 956 Summary: The apple bowl scene with a twist

Next Year Then, Stranger by Mischel Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1658 Summary: When Merlin tells Arthur the news that he'll be moving from Ealdor to Camelot, Arthur can't contain his delight and kisses Merlin right there, in the snowy meadow. This is the story of Merlin and Arthur who had known each other for years but could only ever meet once a year in the winter. This is the moment that changes their lives forever.

The Shape of My Beautiful Lies by Caledonia Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2451 Summary: Merlin’s fingertips were thieves. They mapped the surface of Arthur’s body in fleeting, casual touches, and they stole. Merlin was not allowed to touch his king, not in the ways that he wanted; so when he went about his duties he made every contact an unrequited crime.

Paper Planes by Excaliburstark Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 585 Summary: Merlin is leaving on a flight to Venezuela where he'll live with his dad for a while.

Always Break My Fall by arsenicandsunshine Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2459 Summary: Merlin may be a police constable, but that doesn't mean he can ice skate. A fact he's been hiding from his best mate who just insisted on dragging him ice skating. His best mate who also made it clear he doesn't feel the same way about Merlin as Merlin does about him. How the hell did he let Arthur drag him ice skating, of all things? Oh right, Merlin has no willpower where a certain blonde prat is concerned. This is going to end well.

We are Nowhere and It’s Now by theskyisgay Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 4462 Summary: The waiting, and what comes after.

The Future Queen Commands by tehfanglyfish Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 3026 Summary: The outbreak of a midwinter fever leaves the castle short staffed and Arthur in the uncomfortable position of looking after four small children. Who knew that children had so much energy? Or that they asked so many nosy questions? And were quite skilled at getting answers? By no means did the king of Camelot expect a little girl to discover a secret he’d been keeping for years, one involving Merlin and feelings, or to put him in a position where he must reveal it.

like a lover (with no shame) by Elizabeth Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2029 Summary: The last bitter freeze of winter finds Arthur and Merlin deep in the forest. Ever gallant, Arthur is willing to go to great lengths to keep his manservant alive and unfrozen. He'll share his cloak, his bedding, and--if he must--even the warmth of his own body. Spring is almost here, but not without one final bedwarming fic for the Merthur Kiss Fest 2019/20. Thanks for Amnesty Week! "Midmorning sun is casting its rays against the tent walls, and Arthur is having his way with his half-sleeping manservant. He slept half the day, and he’s holding Merlin like a lover, with no shame."

What Winter Took Away (love is not enough) by CandiceWright Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 4290 Summary: But Arthur is hurt and his words cut through Merlin like a knife. How could they not? Saying that he admires him only to dismiss him in the next breath. And if that's the last time he's going to see his King he wishes he could be remembered as the brave one, the lionheart, not the coward that he appears to be now, that he feels like he is. But it isn't the last time, it can't be. He will see him again even if he has to tear the earth in half to do so. He can and he will.With that thought in mind, he leaves the castle to go to the crystal cave.

Dark Before Dawn by MapleBreeze Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 3227 Summary: During a winter feast, Merlin still longs for a brighter future. But, for the present, all he has is stolen moments with Arthur.

Freoðuweard by Camelittle Rating: G Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 100 Summary: Arthur pays tribute to his friend. Avalon looks on.

✧･ﾟ: * 🌸🔆 ALL SEASONS 🍁❄️ *:･ﾟ✧

The Four Times That It was Forbidden (And the One Time it Wasn’t) by sdewan6 Rating: T+ Chapters: 3/5 Word Count: 3815 Summary: “Bloody Hell, Merlin, I care so much I think I’ll kill myself if you ever leave me. If there's ever a day where I don’t love you, you can stab me in the heart. Surely you do not think that lowly of me, do you? I love-” He had a quiet, unreadable expression his face. “No,” he said softly, cutting him off. “Stop. I’m sorry. I just- I can’t can’t keep on doing this.” Four times Merlin and Arthur shared forbidden kisses, and the one time it wasn't forbidden at all.

From Grey Into Golden by witching_wingthorns Rating: T+ Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 693 Summary: It starts simple enough with an arrogant prince and a brave peasant It starts simple with playful banter and the beginnings of a friendship with a challenge and an answer, a fight you should’ve won A poem from Arthur’s perspective, a love letter, really, describing his countless lives with Merlin.

#merthur #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin fest #merthur fest #merthur kiss fest 2019 #merthur kiss fest 2019 spring kisses #merthur kiss fest 2019 summer kisses #merthur kiss fest 2019 autumn kisses #merthur kiss fest 2019 winter kisses #merthur kiss fest 2019 masterlist #merthur kiss fest masterlist #masterlist

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hellfirenacht · 5 years

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The Convention Fic Chapter 1

YouTube Gamer Beetlejuice x Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: You were a mod for one of the biggest YouTube gamer, Beetlejuice. Now you're finally going to meet him in person.

Note: This fic takes place at Momo Con in Atlanta, Georgia because it’s my favorite con :)

Thursday (Night)

You didn't remember much between the plane landing and checking into the hotel other than the nervous and excited feelings in your gut. After dropping your bag next to the bed and plugging in your phone to charge you looked out the window, taking in the gorgeous view of the city as the sun set. From here you could see a rectangular park, along with a huge ferris wheel lighting up against the lavender sky.

You heard your phone ding, and you glanced over at it, seeing his name pop up. Your heart skipped a beat as you opened the message. "ARE U HERE YET?? COM FIND ME!!" he was always a bit sloppy with typing, even in private but something about the excitement and constant caps lock was endearing.

Still, the message made your heart pound in your chest. This would be your first time meeting him in person. He had practically begged you to come, claiming it was his first con and he needed his hype squad there.

You glances at the digital clock next to the bed. It was nearing 8 pm, and you knew that he was holding a small unofficial meet up in the park around 10. That at least gave you two hours to hype yourself up and get your badge and get ready.

"Just got in. Gonna take a shower and get my badge"

The reply was almost instant. "WAT ROOM? IM COMIN UP"

NOPE, you were NOT ready for this. You set the phone down, heart pounding. You were not ready to meet your celebrity crush/friend/boss (?) yet.

You took your time getting ready, wanting to make sure you looked perfect. It was warm out, so you pulled out the special t-shirt that you had bought from his merch store that just happened to make you look and feel kinda hot.

During all this, Beej kept spamming the mod group chat with pictures of everything he was seeing and people he was meeting. For a gremlin he sure did act like a puppy sometimes.

Finally happy with your appearance, you stepped out of your hotel, making sure you had your key card, wallet, and phone on you and made your way to registration. Being Thursday night there wasn't a lot people in line (especially since the YouTuber Concert had just started), but it didn't matter as you found your way to the Guest line, where Beej had promised a badge would be waiting for you.

He did not disappoint as you were handed a lanyard and a special badge that said "guest" on the bottom. It made you feel a little special that you were considered to be part of his group, officially.

But that's part of the reason you were here. You were a Mod for his streams and Discord, yes but you also helped him with responding to e-mails and picking out sponsorships. The only thing Beetlejuice seemed to care about when it came to his channel was entertaining people. He said that if it wasn't for you, Adam, Lydia, and Barb, he wouldn't have been able to do this much.

And so here you were now, at a convention where you would be his "handler" of sorts. Keeping an eye on him, making sure he was on time, helping with videos, and making sure that he didn't push himself too hard this weekend.

Glancing at your phone with your goodies on hand you were surprised it wasn't even nine yet. You glanced a picture Beej had dropped in the group chat, a selfie with a random cosplayer.

"I'm on the con floor" you typed and then deleted, your nerves getting the best of you. Oh wow you were suddenly a shaking nervous wreck. You knew that he wanted to see you, and you wanted to see him but something was holding you back.

It was decided that you'd just wander around a bit and wait until the meet up. Besides, it was probably a better idea to get used to the layout of the convention center now. You tucked your phone away and started walking where most of the con goers were headed after receiving their badge.

The convention had three official floors of the hotel, the top floor (ground level) held registration, some panel rooms and the outside courtyard where a lot of people were blasting music and dancing. The second level (down the escalator), held more panel rooms and a small food court which was mostly a hand full of food stalls and tabled. The final floor (down yet another escalator) was a huge basement area, an open floor divided into three sections; the dealers room, the artist ally, and the arcade.

Since the dealers room and the artist ally were closed for the night, you took a quick sweep of the arcade. The con had imported so many different machines from Japan, from DDR to some weird VR games, all free to play. There were also small booths where you could rent board games and other table top games. You couldn't believe that this was going to be open the whole weekend without closing. You wondered if Beetlejuice would make a video about the arcade.

It was a little past 9:15 now, so you decided to head back up the escalators towards the court yard where you'd seen people a partying. Maybe you could turn the nervous energy into party energy.

It was a nice warm night, and people were gathered around a de-masked Deadpool who had set up a portable rolling stereo, playing songs off his phone. The courtyard was a large concrete area with a raised platform about knee-high that was covered with grass. There was plenty of room in the grass for groups to hang out, talk, or dance. The area around the concrete was also filled with people, but also with amazingly beautiful, elaborate, or simple chalk drawings based on anime, games, or memes.

You considered what you wanted to do for a moment before you heard it. That sound.. that beautiful sound that made your heart explode inside your chest, your head spin, and caused a small part of you to go absolutely feral.

Deadpool had just put on Caramelldansen; a siren call that no mortal weeb could resist.

The rest of the nerds around you felt the same reaction as everyone stated hopping up and down to the endlessly catchy bop. For a moment you forgot who you were and what you were doing, all that mattered was hopping up in the grass with all these strangers and dancing to this song.

Within those next 3 minutes, everything felt perfect. You danced with these people you didn't even know who were just happy to be there. Together with another stranger, you brought someone else onto the grass to dance. One person yelled that they liked your shirt, you told another that you adored their cosplay.

Three minutes was all it took to make you forget about being nervous and facing your fears. As the song ended and another started, you felt ready to finally go find him.

Just as you were pulling out your phone, another pic appeared in the group chat and your heart leaped in your chest. He was outside in a place that looked eerily like where you were standing.

You ran to the center of the yard, looking around like mad. It was dark out now, but there were some lights that flooded the courtyard. There! You spotted the familiar messy green hair and found yourself trembling again. This time though, from excitement. The energy and positivity you felt from dancing with everyone had given you the highest high, and biggest confidence boost you could have.

"Beetlejuice?" You called out once, the noise from the dancing and the distance between the two of you causing you not to be heard.

You started walking forward towards him, your feet faster than you anticipated, your face smiling hard.

"Beetlejuice!" You yelled out again, this time his head jerked slightly looking around but still not seeing you. You decided to give him just one more.

"BEETLEJUUUUUICE!" You yelled, running full tilt at him. He turned around, and his face going from confusion to pure joy within 2 seconds. He yelled your name and started running at you as well, his arms outstretched as if to catch you.

You nearly jumped into his arms and he picked you up, spinning you around. You both laughed when he set you down, and he looked at you with excited bright eyes and your heart caught in your throat.

"I almost thought you drowned!" He exclaimed looking you up and down. The way his green eyes scanned your body it was as if he was in awe of you being real. "Wait that's my shirt!!" He was practically bouncing with excitement.

"Y-yeah!" You stuttered, remembering that you needed to actually talk to him. You took him in- the hoodie and striped black and white shirt, the faded jeans, the slight dad bod, and the green ombre hair that seemed to almost glow under the streetlights.

"We gotta take a picture for the group chat!" He pulled you close to his side, his arm around your shoulder as he angled his phone at your faces. You barely had time to smile as he took the picture. It was slightly blurry and grainy from the crappy lighting but you both looked genuinely happy. You made a note to download it later.

Once it was in the chat with an "I FOUND THEM!!!!" attached, he launched into a million questions. He asked how your flight was, what you thought of the con so far, was your room okay?

The two of you played catch up for the next few minutes before he took your hand and started leading you away from the courtyard.

"Where are we going?" You asked, glad that it was dark enough that he couldn't see how red your cheeks were.

"It's almost 10!" He said. "Gotta be at the meet up." Oh right, of course.

He led you through the park, still holding your hand tightly as he brought you to a spot in the park that was covered in brick. You recognized it as one of those fountains that kids could play in where the water would shoot up, though the dry bricks hinted that it was off for the evening. From here you also had a view of the ferris wheel that looked so much bigger from the ground.

As you approached, a handful of people gasped and cheered as Beetlejuice drew close. He waved and greeted the dozen or so people who had been able to show up and meet him. Two of them even recognized you from Twitter and said hi.

The next few hours were filled with selfies, pictures, videos, autographs and games. It almost felt like being a kid again, being able to so easily make friends. You chatted with the group and Beej, so impressed at how he was able to so easily talk to everyone- not once letting anyone feel left out.

But he still stayed close to to you, using any excuse to throw his arm around you or grab your hand, each touch making your heart pound. If you didn't have a crush on him before, you sure did now!

After a few rounds of duck duck beetlegoose, red rover, and hide and seek (which BJ was impossibly good at for some reason), the group split up around midnight. Beetlejuice took your hand again and started leading you back to the convention center and hotel. Though you were starting to hit a wall, you weren't ready to say goodbye yet.

"So Babes, what are we gonna do for the rest of the night?" He asked, looking at you excitedly.

Your answer was cut off by a loud growl coming from your stomach. In all the excitement and nervousness of the day, you hadn't eaten more than some crackers and ginger ale from the plane.

"...Food." you said as he laughed.

"Food it is!" He said. "What do you want to eat?" You thought for a second and looked down the length of the park to the side opposite the convention center. There was the bright yellow sign of a 24/7 diner advertising waffles.

"That!" You said pointing at the building, suddenly taking charge and dragging him behind you.

"Alright, alright, Babes!" He laughed as he caught up with you. "You that hungry?"

"You have no idea." You replied as you started to get your appetite back. He followed you through the park and across the street to the small diner. The inside was a bit crowded but nothing unmanageable for the quickly moving waitstaff. At a glance you could tell that almost every person came from the convention center, either by the lanyards around their necks, the abundance of graphic t-shirts, or the half discarded cosplays while people ate.

You two were seated in the corner at a smaller booth, menus already on the table, but you already knew what you wanted. The green haired man in front of you looked over the menu, for a few moments until a waitress came by for your drink orders.

You ordered a water and some coffee, knowing that this might be the only time you'll be able to have some one-on-one time with Beej this weekend. You were sure that he'd be busy with meeting people and doing panels and autographs and you wanted to make the most of the night.

"I got something on my face, Babes?" Beetlejuice suddenly asked, smirking at you. You hadn't realized how intensity you had been staring at him.

"Ack, sorry." You shook your head slightly. "I'm just starting to hit a wall. It's been a long day."

He gave a small frown. "Do we need to get you back to your room after this?" He asked. There was something about the way he said it that sounded like he was both a little sad and worried. You just shook your head.

"I'll be okay once I have some food and coffee in me." You reassured. "I was kinda hoping that maybe we could check out the arcade together."

His eyes lit up at that. "Really? I was hoping the same thing! I wanna do a vlog of the con and spend time with you and we could give reviews on all the weird games and ask people why they're up so late!"

How was it possible for a grown man to be this cute? How was he making you feel like you were the only person on the planet?

He continued to tell you everything that's happened to him since he arrived at the con. The people he met, the costumes he saw- the way he talked it was almost like he never knew what it was like to be around so many people at once.

Your food arrived, and you were quick to start shoving waffles into your face as you listened to him talk with his mouth full.

"Geeze, you really were hungry huh?" He teased as you finished off your plate in record time. "I'm normally the fast eater."

You laughed sheepishly. "I hadn't eaten all day." You admitted. "I was, uh... too nervous and distracted."

He frowned and placed on of his waffles on your plate. "Breathers need to eat!" He insisted. "Don't do that! Also what were you even nervous for?"

Normally you would have said no to taking someone else's food, but that was a face you couldn't say no to. Plus you were still kind of hungry.

"I guess I was a little nervous about finally meeting you face to face." You admitted, drowning the waffle in syrup.

"You know that's fair. Most people I meet don't usually go out of their way to meet me." He let out a laugh. "At least they didn't before I started the whole playing games thing. Actually the last time someone went out of their way to call me I kinda kicked their parents out of the house, scared off a bunch of people and killed some cult leader named Kevin."

You snorted between bites. You wondered where he even came up with this stuff. He'd make a great writer, probably.

“Are you still nervous?” he asked, his voice lower and calmer than what you were used to with the man. You shook your head.

“No. I’m really happy right now.” you replied and you could see him visibly relax. It wasn’t often that he acted calm, especially when there were other people around.

The rest of the meal was eaten with quiet chit chat as he continued to ask you questions about yourself and you reigning him in to talk about the convention schedule and to finalize the plan.

"Okay, so looks like the panel you're running is Saturday around 3, and your autograph session in early Sunday." You said, scrolling through your phone, typing out the schedule. "That leaves all of Friday open-"

"Not quite." He said. "I uh, do have a plan for us on Friday night." For a second he seemed to hesitate. You looked up, a little surprised.

"...Us?" You asked. "As in, just us us, or us as in a group?"

"I have a surprise for you on Friday and I want it to be just us and I wanted it to be a surprise but I'm so bad at secrets and I want to tell you-" he started, but you cut him off, your cheeks turning slightly warm.

"I don't have any plans." You said. "I'd love to do whatever surprise you have planned. Maybe. Wait, is this gonna be another 'ball pit" incident?" You asked suspiciously.

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "No, not this time! This is a real surprise!"

"I'm sure that was a relationship surprise too, according to your room mates."

"This is different, cross my heart and hope to live!"

"I'm can't wait." You said, heart pounding in your chest. Though the two of you had been talking to each other for a few months now, you always assumed that you were just a Mod in his chat to him. The fact the he seemed to have gone out of his way to make plans for the two of you lit a small spark of hope in your heart.

The meal ended with you paying the tab and him picking up the tip.

"It's almost 1:30." You noted. "If you have plans for Friday night, then the best time to get footage of the arcade without fighting with the lines would probably be now or Saturday at 3 in the morning. "

"This is why I needed you here, Babes." He said, looking at you with pride. "You understand things I wouldn't even think of! Now let's go absolutely ape shit on these nerds." His smile as he said that last line looked feral and slightly dangerous. You would probably need a cold shower after you retired for the night.

And so Thursday night came to a close, with you walking into the start of Friday holding hands with a demon gamer. You noted to yourself that this was only the beginning, and you couldn't wait to see where the rest of the weekend went.

Next Chapter

#Beetlejuice x reader #gamer beej #the convention fic #nacht fic #i'll add a read more later #plz review

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mags0607 · 4 years

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This is my Survey from a reading Fest that I participated in. WIZARD HEARTS for the Game of Drarry.i had so much fun reading a ton of new fics for this, and this survey has some wonderful stories recced in it.❤️

1. What was the first fic you read for the game/fest? Why did you choose it?

The fist fic i read was for the fake dating trope, because it is one of my favorites. The fic was Failed Application of Thought by RuArcher. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16624730 I loved every second of it.

2. What was the last fic you read for the game/fest? How did it feel reading 52+ fics?

The very last official Fic that I read for the fest was from the smut suit for Ace. It was Lost Boys by Dahlia_Rose_83 https://archiveofourown.org/works/10759788 and I absolutely fell in love with it. It was a perfect Fic to end on. I’m not going to lie, I breathed a sigh of relief when I submitted that last comment. I did the smut suit and tried to do all the “go squid” submissions as well, so reading over 70 fanfictions in about 4 months was a bit daunting. I did love that it made me branch out and discover great stories and authors that I had never heard of before.

3.What's a fic you think is a hidden gem and deserves more hype?

I thoroughly enjoyed Loose Ends by justkeeptrekkin https://archiveofourown.org/works/21662668 is a gem, and an awesome Fic featuring the Room of Requirement.

4.What was your strategy for choosing fic/tropes for your reading list? Was there a fic/trope you found you simply couldn’t resist?

I really didn't have much of a strategy at first, except i tried to go for the longest fic possible. Then I just started reading them in order by suit for the most part. I left the smut suit till last, which probably wasn't the smartest decision on my part since some were hard to find after a while.

5.Was there a trope that you’ve read a lot of previously that you found uniquely presented?

I have read quite a few First Time fics, but one i read during the fest was such a unique take on the trope. It was called Lost Boys, by Dahlia_Rose_83 and it was so unique from the very first paragraph. (i'm not giving anything away, but go read it.) https://archiveofourown.org/works/10759788

6.What's a line from a fic that you can't stop thinking about?

The Destiny You Sold by tryslora https://archiveofourown.org/works/5203025 was a fantastic read, and I cannot gush enough about how fantastic it was. This bit right here was just simply perfect.

“When this is done,” Draco whispers. “When it’s done, I’ll still be here, and you will come back to me. Because Luna is right: this is where we’ve always been heading. No matter what you did that bonded us, no matter what I unknit, there will always be a thread between us, drawing us back together. And I want that, Harry. I want you. I just want to be absolutely certain that you want me too.”

7.What's a moment in a fic that genuinely got you to tear up?

I don't want to spoil it, but A Lick and A Promise by tackytiger https://archiveofourown.org/works/21599401 was simply beautiful. Harry and Draco are both fantastic, and this one just punched me in all the feels. Since i don't want to give away what made me cry, i will give you one of my favorite lines.

“Harry supposes they've already seen the absolute worst of each other, over years of taunts and fights and crushed bones and the careless slice of magic through skin and vein and tendon. They've seen the worst of each other, and yet they're still able to understand the very best of each other too, the way no one else seems to. And isn't that a funny one?”

8.Was there a trope you’ve never read or heard of before? What did you think?

I had never read a deaging fic before. Everyone recommends Away Childish Things by lettered https://archiveofourown.org/works/16052816 but i just had never sat down to read it. Let me tell you, I WAS BLOWN AWAY. It was hands down one of the most well-written and beautiful fics i have ever had the privilege of reading. If you have not, sit down and do it NOW!

9.Which trope did you read that pleasantly surprised you?

I am not super into Vampire fics in general, so i typically don't search them out. But, gracerene is one of my favorite writers, and when i saw she wrote Palace of Eternity https://archiveofourown.org/works/19900939, I immediately sat down to read it. It was a fantastic fic, and I absolutely loved every second of it.

10.Is there a fic that made you laugh out loud?

Yes! So I read the crackfic!trope and the fic i read was funny and entertaining. It was Ten Points for Gryfindor by VivacissimoVoce And it featured Auror Harry that was growing antlers and had to go to Healer Draco! It was hilarious and I died at all the puns. https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436389

11.What is your favourite trope and why?

Fake dating/meddling friends. Hands down! I will read anything featuring this trope, and they are so often intertwined. The one I read for the fest was so so good! It was called Dating for Dads in Denial by aibidil https://archiveofourown.org/works/11979036 and it was totally worth the read. It's also a kid fic, and the kids definitely steal the show in the best way!

12.Which tropes did you skip? Would you be willing to share why? If you didn’t skip a trope, was there one that gave you pause?

I read every single trope that you guys dished out. I vowed to push myself out of my comfort zone with this, and i'm so happy that I did. I did pause for a moment at the darkfic!trope, but in the end, i even liked that one. The fic i read was Railway Lands by maelipstick https://archiveofourown.org/works/133294, and i probably would not have read it without the fest, but I'm so glad I did.

13.Did you read multiple fics by the same author? What tropes? Wax poetic about the author a bit, eh!

So i discovered quite a few new authors during this fest, but one that i just have to mention is Andithiel. She was on my team, and before this, i had never read her stuff. She is amazing. I think I read three of her fics for the fest. My favorite was I’ll Never Be Your Chosen One https://archiveofourown.org/works/20774483. It was angsty and beautiful. I read it for the HateSex Trope and it was fantastic.

14.Who's an author you think deserves more hype?

Gracerene is fantastic and deserves all the love in the world. I know she is pretty well known, but I just think she deserves the whole world and writes the most beautiful fics.

https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/pseuds/gracerene

15.Which suit did you have the most fun reading? Why?

CLUBS hands down was my favorite. I think it was because I read so many fest fics for it, and fest fics always bring out the best creativity from some wonderful authors.

16.Did a fic send you off on a tangent reading or researching anything? Which one was it and what was your off the path adventure?

I tend to just flit around to different tropes and stories, so I honestly didn’t go off on a tangent for any one trope. I do want to read every Fic on the thrice Fic list, that I haven’t read yet! That’s my goal.

17.Did you rec any fics to your friends during the game/fest? Which ones?

I have a few fics that I recommend to anyone that will listen. Two memorable ones that i recommended to other readers were Ligabus Filium by Tessa Crowley https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972160 and Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by Lauren3210https://archiveofourown.org/works/8452648. One fic that i read for the first time during this fest and couldn't say enough good things about was The Promise of Summer by Omi_ohmy https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921442/chapters/52322524

18.Do you have any feedback for the mods of the game/fest? Would you be interested in playing again if the opportunity arose? Share more info about your experience.

I absolutely loved doing this fest. I don't write very often, so i don't always get to participate in the fandom as much as i would like. I loved being included as a reader, and i loved that this fest made me more aware of the comments i make on fics. The author feedback was so encouraging, and it was nice to know my words made a difference, i also loved the sense of community that came with being in a team. This made me read stories i never would have found otherwise, and I loved it. Please do this again!

#gameofdrarry

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chouetteffraie · 5 years

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Just Shy of Decadent [Dazatsu Halloween Week - Day 1]

So, it’s still the 24th for me, but the mods gave the all clear to start posting and I’m a little excited so.... :discord eyes emoji:

I like to think of it as a spiritual successor to my previous vamp fic The Art of Decadence but you don’t have to read that one to understand anything here. I just didn’t like the vampire au ending without romance because I want my boys to be HAPPY dangit

Also, fair warning: my version of vampires are 1. Sexy and 2. Basically follow Sims logic. What can I say, I love hot vampires

Anyway I hope you enjoy this! This is actually my first time participating in a ship week (I was always too busy to do the other ones) so I’m super excited!!

Also have this lil meme I made because I think I’m funny and I’m bad at writing horror

Without further ado, here’s my day 1 entry! (Placed under a read more because it got kinda long)

Day 1- vampire // “It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night."

Atsushi was leaving. Dazai didn’t like that one bit.

Every day he gained more space in his dresser drawers, more free hangars in his closet, and the small backpack slowly swelled as more clothes were cleaned and packed away. While he sat in bed and watched the dusky night sky slowly bleed out for the morning sun to rise, waiting for Atsushi to return home and collapse into bed, Dazai often stared at the pack as if it were an intruder, gaze pointed and hostile. If Atsushi noticed these glares when he finally stumbled in the door, shaking his head at Dazai’s offered neck and falling on the sheets, he never commented on them.

That was another thing Dazai noticed and detested. Why, all of a sudden, was Atsushi refusing his blood? Dazai could tell he wasn't feeding properly lately, with his outings getting more frequent and how exhausted he looked all the time, yet he was refusing his own supply of food every night. In fact, he was running away from his personal food source- why was that?

Not every vampire had access to a human stupid enough to offer their blood freely. Atsushi was lucky to have such an offer. Really, Dazai thought, scoffing under his breath, he should be more grateful! After all, Dazai did take the boy in and feed him for months now.

His thinking was backwards, he knew. For somebody to want a vampire to drink from them was...unconventional. But what could he say? He liked the pinprick of Atsushi's fangs piercing through his neck and Atsushi's soft lips closing securely over the area. They weren't exactly warm, but they were comforting as he placed them gently beside his wound and refused to let a single drop go to waste. Dazai liked this part of him being needed and so cautiously taken care of, as if each drop were precious. The lightheaded rush he got when Atsushi drank his fill excited him almost like he was teetering on the brink of death with only Atsushi's gentle hands leaning him back on a pillow to save him. He knew Atsushi would never let him fall, so he allowed himself to indulge in being what Atsushi craved.

Hearing it play back in his head, Dazai couldn't help but agree with the dubious look that normally showed on Atsushi's face as he saw how much Dazai enjoyed volunteering his blood. He was a bit unusual, he supposed. It didn't matter much. Dazai was never one for conventions, anyway.

Sleepy footsteps in the main room of his apartment caught his attention, a near-silent click signaling Atsushi’s arrival. Dazai could hear him stumble clumsily as he toed off his shoes and trudged to their shared bed, a quiet grumble slipping out about the trouble he had that night.The mattress dipped a few moments later and a solid weight fell beside him, not providing any warmth but drawing Dazai closer all the same. An exasperated sigh seemed to echo in the otherwise silent apartment as Atsushi braced himself for the oncoming back and forth.

“Hungry?” Dazai asked, offering a smile so devious it put Atsushi’s own fanged grin to shame. Atsushi shook his head and pointedly turned away, making sure Dazai got the message that he was not interested in feeding. Refusing to give up, Dazai bent and nuzzled his own face gently into Atsushi’s neck, putting on a pout he couldn’t see. “C’mon, Atsushi-kun, you’ve worked so hard...give yourself a break.”

“I’ll be okay,” Atsushi insisted, making no move to push Dazai away. “I don’t need to feed every day, and I’ll get more soon enough.”

Dazai frowned at that. “Ah, about that…” He trailed off, tightening his hold on Atsushi. Barely tilting his head, Atsushi peered at Dazai through one half-lidded eye. “How long will you be gone? I’ll miss my roommate when he’s on his vacation.”

Atsushi stiffened, turning his head so his face was burrowed in the pillow. The arms underneath it clutched it tighter, tight enough that Dazai would worry Atsushi was trying to smother himself if he needed to breathe. After a moment, Atsushi relaxed himself before saying, “I wouldn’t wait for me, Dazai-san.”

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you, the pillow is muffling your voice,” Dazai proclaimed, trying to pry Atsushi’s face away. He had no such luck and let out a ghost of a sigh. “It almost sounds like you’re telling me that this is goodbye.”

Again, Atsushi was silent, yet Dazai could nearly hear him sift through his words carefully to find the right ones. The longer Atsushi took to choose the more apprehensive Dazai felt, his stomach churning and his face soon twisting into a grimace. When Atsushi began to speak, though, his words were awfully bland and curt. “Well, I have to find food somewhere.”

“Yes, I understand that,” Dazai responded, pressing his nose to the spot Atsushi’s pulse should be. As dense as ever, Atsushi paid no mind and continued.

“And the people here are sharp. They’ll have figured me out soon.”

“Hmm, that does sound like trouble,” Dazai hummed before trying to cuddle up even closer. He was a step below desperate, the kind of gnawing feeling that made him want to yell at Atsushi and tell him that he was here and willing to be used.

Let me be what you crave, he pleaded internally. Or am I not human enough for you?

Atsushi sighed before turning in Dazai’s grasp so he was facing him. “I feel like you aren’t taking this seriously, Dazai-san.” When he spoke, the moonlight glimmered against one of his fangs, pale and alluring. When he shut his mouth, Dazai felt the resentment bubble up for a brief moment. Quit leading me on, Atsushi-kun. Such a tease.

Allowing his expression to lift, Dazai merely shrugged. “You’re right,” he answered instead, listening to Atsushi’s groan before shutting his eyes. He knew Atsushi wouldn’t be sleeping tonight- the hunger pains normally kept him up, and although Dazai never let him know, Atsushi was too restless to allow him any sleep. This way, though, he had an excuse to keep his grip on Atsushi tight, keeping the boy close before he was chased away by the rotten people in the city below.

The bag was packed tighter until eventually it looked as if it would burst. Atsushi started lingering in the middle of rooms, small. fond smiles on his face. The times Dazai caught him, he’d hold himself back, watching from a safe distance as Atsushi prepared himself to turn to the next chapter of his life. The thought of being a secondary character, never to be mentioned again, left a bitter taste in Dazai’s mouth. He gritted his teeth every time.

One morning, Dazai was pulling on his vest, the golden light streaming in through the windows and telling Dazai that he was at least an hour late to work. Atsushi sat up in their bed, sleepily watching him as if he thought Dazai couldn’t see him in the mirror. Without turning around, Dazai asked, “Are you enjoying yourself over there, Atsushi-kun?”

“Hmmm?” Atsushi asked, dazed.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that, normally, people prefer to watch others remove their clothes. Or is that backward for vampires, too?”

The comment took half a second to get through to Atsushi, but once it did, he was a sputtering mess. After fumbling around, hands reaching for something and finding no purchase, he grabbed the blanket and pulled it over his head. “What- that’s- inappropriate, and-”

A deep chuckle interrupted his stammering. Atsushi peered over the blanket at Dazai, who was now looking at him over his shoulder. “Well, how am I supposed to know about vampiric fantasies?”

“That is not what was going on just now,” Atsushi insisted. Dazai only gave him a dubious look before moving to swing his long coat over his shoulders. When he walked past Atsushi, he grabbed the edges of the blanket and pulled it over Atsushi’s now-exposed feet, looking up to meet his eyes once more. He stood there, stooped down and captivated in that violet-gold sea, before he was hit with the gut-wrenching reminder that Atsushi was days away from leaving one night and never returning. What made things worse was that Atsushi didn’t tell him when he was planning to leave, and the fear of starting an eternity of coming home to an empty apartment was almost more than Dazai could take.

He considered sitting on the edge of the bed and forcing Atsushi to hear him out, convince him to stay. However, he knew how it would play out: Atsushi would smile and nod before telling him not to worry and reminding him how late for work he was. He was becoming an expert at brushing Dazai off gently, something Dazai didn’t know he’d be proud if it was him who served as his teacher.

Instead, Dazai cleared his throat and patted Atsushi’s leg awkwardly before turning to leave, hoping he’d be in the same spot when he got back.

Dazai came home early that night to find Atsushi getting ready to head out for the night. In the pale moonlight, Dazai noticed how sickly he looked. Atsushi was no longer a ferocious creature of the night with fangs ready to hunt; instead, he looked tired and weak. He looked surprisingly human, weary from a day’s work.

But by the human definition, Dazai was useless, a waste. To a vampire he was needed, a renewable food source with an appetite to be reminded of his own terrifying mortality. If Atsushi was no more human than he, well...Dazai didn’t like to dwell on the what-ifs, especially when they involved Atsushi ditching him for anybody else.

Atsushi gave him a weak smile as he tried to brush past him and venture onto the street, but Dazai stopped him by grabbing his shoulders firmly. Carefully he guided Atsushi back to the couch, pushing him down on the cushion and removing his jacket and vest. Atsushi watched, confused, before he tried to stand back up. Dazai grabbed his wrist with one hand and used the other to unbutton the top of his shirt, pulling one shoulder down to expose more skin. Dazai watched Atsushi pull his bottom lip between his teeth, eyeing the newly exposed flesh. When Dazai tugged on his wrist he didn’t put up a fight, though he didn’t move any closer to Dazai’s shoulder like he surely wanted to.

“Go ahead,” Dazai invited, tilting his head. “You need your strength. I can tell.”

Cautiously, Atsushi leaned forward and placed his own hands on Dazai’s shoulders as his hands dropped from Atsushi’s. Casting a weary glance at Dazai, Atsushi leaned forward and gently pierced his skin, right on the pulse point where Dazai was beginning to notice two small dots regretfully fading away. Dazai raised a hand to rest on Atsushi’s waist as he waited for him to drink his fill- for a moment, he hoped Atsushi would nearly drink him dry so he could use that to guilt him into staying. However, Atsushi abruptly pulled away, wiping his mouth hastily and looking away in shame.

“H-hey, what’s-” Dazai started, jolted out of is dizzy daydream before it really began.

“I don’t want anymore,” Atsushi answered, shutting his eyes tightly.His hands withdrew from Dazai’s shoulders- Dazai only pressed firmer against Atsushi’s waist. Voice shaky, breathy even, Atsushi added, “Thank you for feeding me.”

Slowly, Dazai scanned Atsushi in the dark, a frown slowly dragging the corners of his mouth. “But you’ve barely had any, Atsushi.”

“I have enough reserved, thank you.”

The shortness behind his words sent the dread in Dazai’s stomach fluttering, and he tried to push Atsushi closer to him in response, offering his neck again. Atsushi stiffened, trying to resist Dazai without being rude and battling the emptiness in his core that Dazai’s blood had begun to fill. “C’mon, Atsushi,” Dazai tried to coax, reaching his other hand to brush Atsushi’s hair to the side. “Just let me do something useful before you leave-”

A sharp cry echoed in the otherwise silent apartment as Atsushi shoved Dazai off of him. Bewildered dual-toned eyes watched Dazai for his reaction, staring into a gaze as confused as his own. Before long, he slanted his eyes and clenched his fists, nearly growling before he finally broke the quiet between them.

“Would you quit saying that?” With a harshness Dazai didn’t realize Atsushi had, Atsushi tried to hold Dazai in a contemptuous gaze before tears pushed their way to the surface. “You’ve told me a million times how all you’re trying to do is ‘be useful’ to me and I just wish you’d quit selling yourself short! Besides,” he paused for a moment, holding back a sniffle. “I don’t want to leave you thinking I left because you didn’t serve a purpose for me, or something.”

Stunned into silence, Dazai watched Atsushi bring up a hand to wipe at the few tears that managed to fall. Inspecting his hand, Atsushi let out a gentle laugh at his own expense before his gaze trailed down to the threads on the couch. He picked at one aimlessly, hoping to avoid eye contact, suddenly embarrassed.

A bittersweet smile stretched across Dazai’s face, looking more like a grimace to Atsushi. “Why would you keep me around if I were useless, then? You can’t tell me having a personal blood bank wasn’t convenient.”

“I didn’t keep you around for convenience,” Atsushi persisted, venom dripping from his tone as if the idea were abhorrent. So like him, Dazai thought. How human of him to think so. “I wasn’t even the one who kept you around- you were keeping me.”

“If I remember correctly, I’ve been nothing but supportive of your decision to drop everything and run,” Dazai countered.

“Well, maybe,” Atsushi responded, back to picking at threads on the couch. “But...you were the one going through all the trouble. Hiding a vampire, offering your blood after every bad night.I need to leave, Dazai-san, before I cause anybody else any more trouble.”

Dazai merely nodded, turning his head to stare at the wall in front of him. He wanted to tell Atsushi that running wasn’t the answer he needed- that he could stay and work things out, that a life of hiding out at night with Atsushi and keeping him happy and fed sounded just fine to Dazai- but he knew that he was the last person to give such advice. After a pause, Atsushi let out a scorned laugh, turning to see what interesting thing had caught Dazai’s attention and unsurprised to find nothing there.

“What trouble do you think you’ve caused me, Atsushi-kun?” Dazai mused just as Atsushi opened his mouth. Any defeatist remark Atsushi had ready fell flat and he drew his knees to his chest, curling in on himself as if he were trying to disappear.

“I just said,” he answered, voice muffled as he hid his face in his knees. For a brief moment, the air in the dusky apartment was stagnant, a stark contrast to the thoughts bouncing through both men’s heads. A bitter stalemate between the two loomed behind them, threatening them with the future neither of them wanted yet providing no reasonable escape. Atsushi wasn’t ready to let go of his fear- with his knees curled up to hide him from the world, he barely looked ready to acknowledge it. Dazai thought the same could be said for his pride; should he let go of that, he worried he’d fall deeper and deeper into decadence, allowing the love he so desperately craved to tear down the walls he meticulously built and wreak havoc on his very being.

But he was proven wrong when he realized how close he was to losing Atsushi for good. So, with no other option, he swallowed the lump in his throat, taking his parasitic pride with it.

Atsushi heard him move before he felt him, the rustling of the trench coat Dazai didn’t have time to removed breaking the silence before the couch dipped beneath his weight. A hand gently fell on Atsushi’s knees, warm and comforting. Atsushi could practically feel the blood rushing beneath Dazai’s skin; after all this time of dealing with the man’s suicidal tendencies and dangerous mission, he had learned to use it as a reassurance that he was alive and safe and here. Bracing himself, Atsushi carefully looked up at Dazai with wide eyes.

They were drier than Dazai expected, though they were just as conflicted as he thought they might be. With a sigh, Dazai turned and gave Atsushi the smile he normally used to cheer him up. He felt a softness that was normally never there, and judging by the way the belligerence subsided behind his ametrine eyes, the gesture didn’t go unnoticed.

Comforting another was a foreign action to Dazai. He spent his time observing the rest of humanity, watching from afar. He did the understanding, yet he was never understood. That barrier was almost always in front of him, a one-way mirror of isolation that prevented him from learning how to make that connection. Now, he resented this as he burrowed in his mind for words of solace that wouldn’t leave himself feeling stripped bare and vulnerable.

“Atsushi-kun,” he started, not wanting Atsushi to think he had nothing to say and was merely waxing confidante, “Have I made you feel unwelcome?”

Atsushi sniffled and looked away. “Of course not, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome. You’ve been to kind to me...I need to leave before I leech off of you even more.”

“I’m not a kind man, Atsushi, and I’m not quite sure where you got that idea,” Dazai admitted. He averted his gaze. “I used you to feel more human, and all it did was help me realize that in that subject you would always surpass me, despite being fundamentally…” Trailing off, Dazai snuck a look at Atsushi’s face, pleased to see he was merely looking on in interest and not sadness. With another sigh, Dazai continued. “The point is, I didn’t bring you in with selfless intent. I thought you could help me fill a hole I didn’t know how to fill.”

Deep in thought, Atsushi hummed before nodding. His chin hit his knees a few times before he said, “I kind of liked it. Being needed, that is.”

“So you knew?”

“You could say that. I had my suspicions.”

Like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Dazai watched Atsushi with wide eyes, his mouth agape. Atsushi chuckled and slowly lowered his legs, swinging them back over the end of the couch to avoid kicking Dazai. After a moment’s thought, he leaned down to rest his head gingerly against Dazai’s shoulder. His voice small, Atsushi asked, “Did I help at all? Did I help you fill the hole?”

Dazai leaned his own head down so it was resting on Atsushi’s, silver hair tickling his cheek. HIs hand clutched at his chest as if he could feel his heart for any patches and he resisted the urge to hum in contemplation. “I don’t know,” he started. When Atsushi’s shoulders slumped, Dazai quickly added, “But I think it’d get bigger if you left.”

When Atsushi made no effort to move, Dazai resolved to sit still until the end of time, determined to keep Atsushi next to him. Too soon the boy stirred, however, and Dazai nearly spoke his protests when Atsushi asked, “Can I make a request, then?”

Dazai didn’t know how to say he would willingly die for Atsushi, so he nodded dumbly instead. With a soft smile, Atsushi asked, “Can we start this again? Do it over, only this time we stop trying to use each other. Is that...okay?”

There was a sparkling hope in Atsushi’s eyes- no, in his entire being, sparking off his fingers like fireworks and threatening to light Dazai up with him. It was all Dazai could do to not sweep Atsushi off his feet and make a million promises he wasn’t sure he could keep- though he knew he’d damn well try. Dazai managed to hold himself back, save for the goofy smile that spread across his face. It felt too big and awkward, foreign to his lips. If he didn’t know any better, he’d worry his face would crack. Yet it drew out a similar grin from Atsushi, and Dazai decided that, if that were to happen, it would be for a noble cause.

Not wanting to ignore Atsushi, Dazai finally nodded. His voice came out softer than he anticipated, barely above a whisper. “It’d be...more than okay,” he said, as if his pleasure in the idea were a sacred secret. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Dazai may be terribly decadent, but he wasn’t foolish enough to let such a wondrous opportunity slip between his fingers. He beckoned Atsushi closer, allowing them both one last indulgence before the real work began. This time, when Atsushi slowly drew away, he kept him locked in his grasp.

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

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Early Leaf’s a Flower: 4/11

Now we reach the part of the story that has me nervous even though I am immensely proud of it. Emma and Killian will be separated for a bit here in the middle, but I just need ya'll to hang with me and trust me, okay? This is where the "fate" part of the summary begins to come into play.

This is also when Emma meets Neal and Killian meets Milah. I am writing these relationships more along the lines of being young and making immature decisions rather than villainizing Neal and Milah. In canon, Neal and Milah were both significantly older than Emma and Killian (which is an interesting parallel I have never thought much about before, come to think of it), but in this story, all four of them are the same age (17). There is no relation whatsoever between Neal and Milah in this story. Neal is also just Neal, not Bae. In other words, he has no connection to the fairy tale realms. He's just another runaway teenager.

I have to once again thank the mods of the @captainswanbigbang , and my betas @shippingtheswann, @distant-rose, and @optomisticgirl for believing in this fic, especially this section and for encouraging me when I doubted myself. I especially want to give a shout out to Ro who encouraged me to write Milah in the way I had envisioned instead of changing her character to please the fandom.

So, fingers crossed, here we go! Got your tissues ready?

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons …

Rating: M for eventual sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and positive Millian

Words: Around 7k in this chapter (all chapters will be rather lengthy from here on out)

** Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Emma: Age 17

Emma wipes at her cheeks, frustrated with herself for crying. Those people don’t deserve her tears. She plops down on the bench in front of the bus stop in downtown Bangor, Maine, the one bag she always keeps packed at her feet. She’s fully aware of what running away at seventeen means.

There will be no more chances.

That makes her frustrated with herself, too. The fact that a tiny part of her still clings to hope, even now. Even after the words her foster father spoke just this evening.

“We have to think of our children, Emma, if you’re going to act this way.”

“Our” children - and that didn’t include her. They didn’t even wait to hear her side of the story. They never asked why she got into the fight in the first place and never once thought that maybe the pot in her book bag wasn’t even hers. It was clear how they saw her - a screwed up orphan who couldn’t be trusted.

She sees the bus coming towards her, and she snatches her bag. She’s not sure how far she can get on the cash she’s got, but any place is better than here. She never belonged in the suburbs anyway.

All she has in her pocket is a little cash that she lifted from her former foster mother’s purse. Portland - that’s how far the cash gets her, with a few bucks left over. She blows it all on a grilled cheese and onion rings in a greasy diner next to the bus stop. She gets as many refills of her soda as she can before the waitress starts to get suspicious.

A year in the suburbs has made Emma rusty, and she wastes way too much time wandering around the city. She hopes that she’s at least walking with a purpose. The most important rule on the streets is to never show vulnerability or weakness.

It begins to rain, and she needs a place to sleep. The corner of her mouth kicks up in the hint of a smile when she sees what’s a block ahead near the pier. It’s a carnival, closed for the season. Better yet, there’s a gap in the gate of the chain link just wide enough for a slender girl to slip through. Surely there’s a warm, dry place to spend the night somewhere on the grounds.

As Emma walks around the silent carnival, she has to admit that it’s a bit eerie. The swings move subtly in the breeze, their chains clanking. Rain pelts the colorful awnings and drips down the boarded up booths. The rain starts to come down harder, and Emma dashes across the grounds with her hoodie over her head. It’s getting dark fast.

“Hey! Hey, you!”

The voice is jolting in the abandoned setting, and Emma’s feet move faster. She clambers aboard a dark carousel just as the pouring rain turns into a full blown storm. The wind whistles around the still carousel, and lightning illuminates the immobile faces of horses, zebras, and unicorns.

Emma hears the shouts again, almost inaudible over the storm, and she drops down on all fours. She scrambles beneath the feet of the wooden menagerie to the very center of the carousel. She presses her back against the wood, heart pounding.

The beam of a flashlight cuts through the darkness, and Emma claps her hands to her mouth as if that can help cloak her from the light.

“Who’s there?”

Emma’s hands slip from her face as she realizes that it isn’t the voice of an adult. Still, she looks around frantically, hoping to see a service door somewhere. A security guard would call the cops, but another teenager might do something ten times worse to a girl alone out here. Emma can’t see a damn thing between the flashes of lightning, so she crawls along the edges of the center of the carousel, hands groping for an opening.

“Hey, stop!” the voice shouts again, and the light of the flashlight blinds Emma. Hands reach out, but she fights against them. “Stop it, I’m not gonna hurt you!”

The only reason she believes him is because he releases her. Her eyes blink open, but all she can see is a shadowy figure leaning over her. The flashlight is rolling away on the floor of the carousel. The lightning flashes again, just long enough to show her the face of a teenage boy. They’re plunged back into darkness, however, just as quickly.

“You a runaway too?”

“Too?”

“Hey listen,” he says, gently touching her arm, “I’m gonna go get my flashlight, okay? Don’t run off.”

Emma isn’t sure if it’s his youth or her fear of the storm that keeps her where she is. He comes back, shining the flashlight at her feet so he doesn’t blind her again. When he hunkers down in front of her, the light fully illuminates him, and she’s able to get a good look at him: extremely thick, slightly curly brown hair that falls into his dark brown eyes, a boyish smile, and a nose that’s a tad too large for his face. The hoodie he’s wearing is stained, ripped, and soaked from the rain.

“I’m Neal,” he tells her, “Neal Cassidy.”

She simply regards him suspiciously.

“This is the part where you tell me your name,” he adds with a grin.

Emma turns away from his gaze and crosses her arms stubbornly. He sighs.

“I get it, I really do, but you’re gonna have to trust me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” she snaps.

“If you want to survive, you do,” he replies solemnly. “Now, do you wanna see where we sleep or not? Cause it’s a lot better than this carousel.”

“We?”

Killian: Age 17

“Man overboard!”

The crew of the Jolly Roger rush to get ropes as soon as the words leave Curly’s mouth from where he stands guard in the crow’s nest. It’s a mission they’ve been through many times, fishing lost boys out of the water.

“Starboard!” Curly yells, and they hurry to that side of the ship.

The Jolly Roger, despite being captained by a boy of seventeen, is still the finest ship to sail the seas in any realm, just as it was under its other name - The Jewel of the Realm. And despite its crew ranging in age from twelve to eighteen, her familiar outline shimmering on the horizon is already enough to strike fear in the hearts of the most experienced sailors. For one, the Jolly Roger with its pegasus sail has been known to drop upon a ship from the skies above. Then there are the tales of the demon pirate children and their one-handed captain, stories that have almost reached the status of legend. Enough so that Hook and his crew have to shed very little blood. Their intent is to avenge the death of Liam Jones, and to that end, crippling the navy of King George is enough.

Killian Jones is no longer the navy's disciplined sailor he was a year ago, but more importantly, he also is no longer a boy. Plenty of sailors underestimate him because of his age, but few seventeen year olds carry the experience or the tragedy of Captain Hook.

As for Pan, Killian hasn’t forgotten the day he slashed his brother with dreamshade. Though Captain Hook longs for a more violent revenge, the best he can do for the moment is rescue Pan’s boys from thinning, and occasionally, save a boy from Pan’s shadow. Not all boys come to Peter willingly, and many used to perish in the waves around the island until Hook started fishing them out of the water. Both practices have caused The Jolly Roger’s crew to swell over the past year.

On this particular day, his crew is fishing their latest recruit out of the water. Two in as many days? Pan doesn’t usually send his shadow out that frequently. Then again, he’d thinned a few recently. No matter how hard the pirates try to save them, not all Lost Boys realize the intent of their leader until it’s too late. Hook’s current cabin boy also fought off the shadow just yesterday. Killian grins as he thinks of Pan’s frustration. He lounges against a few barrels, crossing his legs at the ankles, and casually watches his crew work the ropes. He arches a brow as the wet figure flops to the deck.

“Looks like it’s a pirate’s life for you, boy,” he says. As the “boy” stands, Captain Hook finds himself speechless, something that hasn’t happened in well over a year.

The entire crew gasps, for standing before them, dripping wet, chest heaving, and fire in her eyes is not a lost boy but a lost girl. She wears a corseted dress that shows off an ample amount of her bosom, and Hook’s been in enough ports to know a lady of the night when he sees one. Yet she is, indeed, a girl. Not a woman. Anger flashes clearly in his suddenly darkening eyes. His crew misinterprets it as frustration towards the girl herself. They all eye her warily and step a few paces away from her.

Hook draws closer to her, removing his long leather duster as he does so. She lifts her chin defiantly, almost hiding the shiver that courses through her body. He swings the duster towards her, the words of a gentleman on his tongue, but she slaps his hand away. The crew murmurs nervously, but all Hook does is smirk at her.

“You are cold, lass, I was offering my coat.”

“I don’t need your charity,” she spits, “all I need is to find someone, and I’ll be on my way.”

Killian’s brow arches as he regards her. “I see. Unfortunately for you, that will be rather difficult to accomplish without the aid of me and my crew.”

She props her hands on her hips and scowls at him. “Doubtful.”

He draws closer and leans forward to whisper in her ear. “No. Fact.”

She narrows her stormy gray eyes at him, and he’s close enough to see the swirls of blue in them. Some of her dark curls have stuck to her wet face, and he wants to reach out and brush them away, but he refrains. She strikes him as the type of lass who would not welcome such a gesture.

A sudden, high pitched shout of delight breaks the tension, and the girl lets out a cry as she shoves past Killian. She falls to her knees in front of Hook’s new cabin boy, a lad of only six, and envelops him in her arms.

“Mason!” she says, her hard facade slipping away as she holds the boy tight and cries with joy. “I’ve been so worried ever since that shadow -”

“It’s okay!” the boy interrupts with childish exuberance. He rushes over to his Captain and tugs on his hook. “Captain Hook let me join his crew! I’m his cabin boy!”

Those eyes of hers become tumultuous again, and Killian regards her in contemplation. The boy is six, the lad told him so, but surely this girl can’t be his mother. He knows, however, that not all the girls in the brothels are of age, nor are they all there by choice. He guesses the young lady before him would have had to give birth at the age of only thirteen, at the most, if she truly is the boy’s mother.

“What have you been doing to him?” she snaps.

“Taking care of him,” Killian says calmly but with authority, “and a thank you would be in order that we fished him out of the sea.”

“And kept him hidden from Peter Pan,” Starkey, his first mate, adds.

Killian kneels before Mason. “How about you go below and get some hardtack from cook while I talk to your -”

“Sister. And her name is Milah.”

Killian lets out a small sigh of relief. “Yes, your sister.”

“Okay!” Mason chirps as he skips off. Killian watches him go fondly. They normally don’t take on boys as young as he is, but Mason had fought the shadow tooth and nail where most lads his age are eager to see The Neverland. He sees a jadedness in the boy’s eyes that is much too familiar.

Killian stands and turns to Mason’s sister. He bows. “Milah, I believe it is?”

“Yes,” she says coolly.

“If I may have a word with you, m’lady?”

She tosses her hair saucily over one shoulder, yet takes the arm he offers her anyway. He glares at his crew and shouts for them to get back to work. He and Milah stroll to the ship’s bow.

“May I ask,” he begins, knowing he must proceed with caution, “how you managed to follow your brother here?”

Milah sighs and lets go of his arm. “A week ago, Mason told me about the shadow coming to our window. He said it whispered to him about a place where orphan boys can be free. I’m ashamed to say that I brushed it off as a dream.”

“But it kept coming back.”

Milah nods. “It began to frighten Mason, too. He said that the shadow wanted to take him away from me. I told him to keep the window locked. I have to work nights, you see . . . “ Milah trails off, a blush rising to her cheeks as she looks away from him in shame.

“Hey,” Killian says softly, turning her chin gently towards him, “I was sold as a slave when I wasn’t much older than Mason. I know what it means to just survive.”

She holds his gaze for only a moment before turning away, her hard demeanor back in place. “Anyway, I came home one night to see the shadow for myself, but it already had Mason. I lunged for my brother, but it was too late, the shadow was flying away with him.”

“Then how did you get here?” He glances up at the pegasus sail fluttering above them. “It is no easy feat, lass.”

Milah smiles with a bit of pride behind her eyes. “I went to a sorceress in the village square. It took far too much of my coin, but she had the information I sought. She said if I stood before my open window and said I believe, the shadow would come for me.”

“And it did,” Killian says, unable to keep the admiration from his voice.

She nods. “Aye, but the sorceress warned me not to let the shadow take me all the way to the island. I wasn’t sure why, but figured I should listen, so -”

“So here we are.” Killian leans against the railing, admiring the way the sea air rustles her curls. She shivers again, and he once again offers his coat. This time, she accepts.

“Here we are,” she says, suddenly shy. He sees now a hint of her real age.

“How old are you?” he asks gently, hoping she won’t take the question as anything more than genuine curiosity.

She bites her bottom lip as she clutches his duster tighter. “Seventeen.”

His cheeks dimple with the force of his smile. “So am I .”

“Are you serious?” Her jaw drops. “The fearsome Captain Hook is just a boy?”

“A boy!”

She laughs teasingly, then cocks her head at him. “So, does the offer still stand?”

He tilts his head. “Offer?”

“You know, a pirate’s life for me.”

He reaches out and adjusts the heavy coat that rests on her slim shoulders. “Yes, Milah. I think you’ll make a damn good pirate.”

Emma: Age 17

Emma stares out across the dark carnival grounds, pushing the swing around idly with her foot. She hears chains clink behind her and sighs wearily.

“Hey,” Neal says, grasping the chains of her swing and spinning her to face him.

“Hey.”

He searches her face and gives her a boyish grin. “Don’t let them get to you, Ems.”

She says nothing. She searches his eyes, for what she isn’t sure. He tugs the swing forward and captures her lips in a kiss. She kisses him back for a moment, then pushes gently on his chest.

“I’m still mad at you,” she grumbles.

He shakes his head and chuckles, which causes Emma a tiny prick of irritation. He lifts the metal bar of the swing nearest her and sits, his long, awkward teenage legs sprawled out on either side of hers.

“They were just messing with us. They know we’re a thing, so -”

“It was my first time, Neal!” Emma snaps before he can finish.

“It’s not like I planned it or anything,” he shoots back, still with that infuriating grin on his face, “one thing led to another -”

“I was there, Neal,” she tells him dryly.

“My point is, I didn’t mean for it to happen that way.”

Emma blushes as the memories of the night before come back to her. “You said they wouldn’t be able to hear us.”

“I didn’t know you were going to moan that loud.”

She kicks him, but can’t help smiling shyly at his teasing. He leans forward and yanks her swing close to his until their noses are brushing.

“I also didn’t know you were going to cry out my name like that.”

She bites her lip at the heated look in his eyes. Honestly, she had yelped his name more than crying it out. It had hurt at first, but she’s too embarrassed to tell him that.

“I . . . “ she swallows thickly as he presses a kiss right at the corner of her mouth, “Neal, I . . . “

“Yes?” he mumbles against her neck.

Emma stops the explorations of his lips with her hands to his cheeks so she can look him in the eye. “I think . . . that is, I . . . I love you, Neal.”

He smiles brightly then, pulling her close and kissing her with incredible passion. He doesn’t say anything back, doesn’t say he loves her too. She tells herself that’s okay, though. After all, they’re only seventeen.

*************************************

Lily is the leader. Emma isn’t sure exactly how that came to be, though she guesses it has something to do with Lily’s intimidating demeanor. There’s something darkly intense about her, an edge behind her dusky eyes that makes everyone in their crew afraid to question her authority.

There are seven of them, including Emma, forming a loose sort of family. Neal had been correct that first night - the supply warehouse they’re squatting in is a much better place to crash than the carousel. It’s a slightly macabre final resting place for anything broken or out of use, from rusted coaster cars to broken haunted house furniture. There’s even an old red sleigh and a troupe of ten-foot tall nutcrackers when the carnival had apparently been open for the holidays.

Neal was also telling the truth that they’re all runaways. Emma, however, is the only actual orphan. Truth be told, she secretly thinks the rest of them are all a little self absorbed in their reasons to leave home. Neal’s dad apparently had become angry and bitter after his mother’s death. Emma has to keep from rolling her eyes every time Neal tells her how the man “just didn’t understand him anymore.” Claudia and Jamie felt overlooked in a big family, Sam just longed for adventure, and August chafed against his father’s rules. Then there’s Lily, adopted as an infant by parents who she claims never loved her and - naturally - didn’t understand her. The whole “they don’t understand me” thing is a constant refrain, and one Emma is frankly a little tired of hearing.

When Neal had brought her to the group that first night, he’d gone straight to Lily who had regarded Emma, shivering and dripping water on the concrete floor, with casual disdain. Then her mouth had ticked up into a smile that Emma couldn’t quite read.

“Welcome to the family,” she’d told her, and only then had the rest of the group even approached her. They’d each carved out space amongst all the junk, using bits of this and pieces of that to make beds. There wasn’t really a “bed” for Emma, though, so Neal had offered to share his. When Jamie, who is only thirteen, snickered, Emma had blushed and said she’d figure something else out.

“Oh don’t be such a baby,” Lily had snapped with a roll of her eyes, “we already know he wants to fuck you. Emma’s staying with Neal, and that’s just how it is.”

She’d said the last as if it were a royal proclamation, and everyone had scattered to go to bed for the night. Neal’s face had been bright red, and he’d not only mumbled an apology, but had been a perfect gentleman that first night.

But only the first night. And now here she is, in the first real relationship of her young life, and five other kids heard every word of it. It’s humiliating and degrading. Yet Emma knows better than to mess this thing up. Lily’s crew means protection, it means seven kids pulling cons and picking pockets and sharing the spoils. And it may not be the family she’s spent her whole life dreaming of, but it’s better than being alone.

Emma isn’t sure where Neal is at the moment. She’s attempting to get a moment to herself, hidden behind the broken down cotton candy machine that makes one “wall” of the “bedroom” she shares with Neal. Claudia had swiped a pad of paper and some pencils from a discount store yesterday and hadn’t minded sharing with Emma. It’s been years since she’s sketched, but inspiration struck. Her pencil flies across the paper, and when she’s finished, tears sting inexplicably at the corner of her eyes. It’s the wardrobe. She bites on her lower lip and swallows back a sudden lump in her throat. She remembers the sparkle in Killian’s eyes and a bit of sadness sweeps over her as she wonders where he is right now. She shakes her head and crumples the paper in her hand. Why the hell is she thinking about that wardrobe today?

“Emma?”

She jolts and turns to see Jamie standing there. “Neal wanted me to give you this,” he tells her as he hands her a piece of paper.

Emma rolls her eyes as she takes the paper from him. “You can wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, Jamie.”

His grin only gets wider. “Did Claude tell you she swiped some ear plugs for me? She doesn’t want your sex noises corrupting me.”

She jumps up to smack the kid across his smug face, but he darts away laughing before she can reach him. Letting out a frustrated huff of breath, she opens the note he’s given her.

“Meet me at the spot where we first met. xoxo Neal”

Even though the xoxo postscript is a little middle school, she can’t help the smile that fills her face. She heads eagerly for the carousel and finds Neal waiting for her. He grabs her around the waist and kisses her in greeting, and when they part Emma has to catch her breath.

“Where have you been all day?” she asks him.

The grin he gives her fills his face and lights up his brown eyes. “Working on a surprise.”

She smiles back, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “A surprise? For who?”

He shrugs teasingly. “I was thinking maybe Claudia would like it - ow!” He rubs at where she punched him in the arm, though her indignation seems to only make his smile broader. “Just kidding, Ems, you know it’s for you. Come on!”

Neal pulls her across the carnival grounds almost at a run, and Emma is breathless again when he stops in front of an office door. She quirks a brow at him.

“What’s in there?”

He shuffles his feet back and forth, nervous for the first time. “Um, just close your eyes.”

Emma eyes him suspiciously.

“Please?”

She shrugs and complies. She hears the door swing open, and Neal tugs her hands gently to lead her inside. The door shuts behind her, and she feels Neal pressed up against her back. He leans forward and whispers in her ear.

“Keep your eyes closed until I say.”

“Okay,” she agrees, letting her breath out in a huff.

“I’m really sorry about how our first time went. I should have planned it - made it special. So . . . maybe this will make it up to you?”

He tells her to open her eyes, and when she does, she sees a small, modest office with wood paneling, filing cabinets, and a musty smell. However, there’s also a couch along one wall that Neal has scattered with rose petals and on every flat surface in the room, tea candles flicker.

“Well?” he asks her, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“I . . . I . . . “ Emma swallows around the sudden lump in her throat. “How did you even get in here?”

She worries that maybe she’s hurt his feelings, but Neal just shrugs. “I picked the lock. It was a simple one with no deadbolt, so . . . “

Emma wanders around the small room, taking in every candle, reaching out to touch some of the rose petals.

“They’re fake,” he tells her apologetically. “The convenience store didn’t have real ones. Oh, and I got you something else!”

Neal reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a key chain which he dangles in front of her. Emma reaches out to take it, smiling down at the round pendant.

“It’s a swan.” She throws her arms around him and gives him a brief kiss. “I love it!”

She wraps her arms tighter around him as he pulls her close. She buries her nose in his shoulder and revels in his embrace. Then, suddenly, a bright fluorescent light catches her eye. Just over Neal’s shoulder is another door, and through the square window in its center she sees something she remembers from her past.

“What’s that?” she whispers as she steps away from Neal and draws closer to the door.

“Oh, that’s the arcade,” Neal tells her, “this office must be for the manager.”

Emma turns the knob and is surprised to find it unlocked. She steps out into the dark arcade, drawing closer to the glass cube that pulses with a neon glow.

“I wonder why that one’s still plugged in,” Neal muses.

Emma presses her palm to the glass and draws closer. Voices from the past drift to the forefront of her memory. Now, decide which prize you want, and focus. Emma remembers the way the game had sparked, how Sarah hadn’t seemed fazed at all. The claw in this machine hangs immobile, and Emma gives a soft gasp as she sees the prize right below it - a stuffed white rabbit with a pink ribbon around its neck.

“Emma?” Neal asks hesitantly.

What if you did have magic, Emma?

I travel to you through an enchanted wardrobe, Emma. And you think magic sounds crazy?

“Emma?” Neal tries again.

“Do you believe in magic?” she whispers, her hand still pressed to the glass, her gaze still fixed on that stuffed rabbit.

Neal laughs. “I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but this life of ours ain’t no fairy tale.”

A tear slips from the corner of Emma’s eye and rolls down her cheek. “But there are things that can’t be explained. Aren’t there?”

Neal steps closer and grasps her loosely by the elbow. “Emma, what’s wrong? You’re kind of freaking me out.”

Emma shakes her head, swiping at the wet spot on her cheek. “Nothing.”

Neal turns her to face him, his eyes searching hers carefully. “Is this still about the sex thing?”

Emma can’t help it, she blurts out a laugh. “Don’t worry, Cassidy, you didn’t waste all those candles.”

His pupils widen as he grins eagerly. “Well, I’m relieved to hear that. Although I stole the candles so . . . “

Emma shakes her head and throws her arms around his neck. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“You know,” Neal says softly, rubbing her arms, “everyone’s on edge because the carnival’s off season is almost over.”

Emma sighs and presses her forehead to his. “I know. Lily wants to have a meeting tomorrow to talk about it.”

“What if we . . . took off on our own?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “You can’t be serious. Where would we even go?”

“Well, don’t tell Lily this,” he says, looking around nervously as if Lily might be hiding behind the pinball machines, “but I’ve had a few big scores that I’ve kept to myself.”

“Seriously? How much?”

“Enough to get us pretty far,” he tells her confidently, then he’s yanking her hand eagerly back inside the office. He stops in front of a map of the United States hanging next to a small desk. Grinning broadly, he sweeps his hand across the expanse of it. “Come on, Emma, dream big. Where do you want to go?”

She shakes her head. “You’re crazy.”

He wraps his arms around her waist. “Only about you.” Then he releases her, and turns her towards the map. “Go ahead, pick someplace, and it’s yours.”

“Mine? Or ours?”

“Ours.”

Emma smiles, her cheeks flushed, then she closes her eyes, extends her hand and walks blindly towards the map. When her finger collides with its surface, she opens her eyes.

“Tallahassee,” she reads aloud, then she spins to face Neal, “is there a beach?”

“It’s Florida.” He shrugs. “It’s all beach.”

Emma rests her hands on his shoulders and gives him a slow, tender kiss. “So we’re doing this?”

“Yeah. Tallahassee it is.”

****************************************

Emma really doesn’t like riding in the back of this van. Or more specifically, her stomach doesn’t like it. She moans and rests her head on Neal’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asks her.

“You two aren’t naked back there are you?” Jamie asks in a loud, obnoxious voice.

“Shut up, you little shit!” Emma yells back.

Correction, Emma doesn’t like being in this van at all. This ugly, avocado van from the early 80s that smells like a sickening combination of pot and urine. Neal had said they were going to head off on their own once the crew left the carnival, yet here they are. They’d had a fight about it, but Neal had insisted that they needed a bit more cash. Lily had a big con planned, and once they pulled it off, getting to Tallahassee would be child’s play.

Emma’s stomach roils, and she scrambles over the three rows of bench seats to the front passenger seat. She almost pukes all over Jamie, which would have been great karma, come to think of it. She plops down next to Lily, who’s driving, and quickly rolls the manual window down. She sighs in relief once the cool air hits her face.

“Car sick?” Lily asks.

“Yeah,” Emma sighs as she presses her temple against the side of the window.

“Well, you can stay up here with me.”

“Thanks. Where are we going, again?”

Lily grins as she glances at Emma, then back to the road. “All the ski resorts up here are closing up for the summer. The people who own cabins up here are loaded. We can squat in style until fall.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “But Neal said we’d be flush with cash.”

Lily gives her that icy look that says she finds Emma incredibly naive. “Of course we will. Before we head out, we’ll clean the place out. We’re talking major electronics - TVs, gaming systems, DVD players.”

“Okay,” Emma says warily.

“Just you wait,” Lily assures, “it’s gonna be incredible.”

****************************************

On her third night in the vacation home in the mountains, Emma wakes up to a flashlight blinding her eyes and questions being shouted at her. As the cops escort her down the stairs and out the front door, she sees that the others have cleaned the place out already. Nothing but wires stick out of the wall in the family room where the tv, vcr, and gaming system had been connected. She’s barefoot and in a pair of pajamas that she’d found in the master bedroom drawer, but none of the cops seem to care as they put her in the squad car. She’s not handcuffed, though, maybe because she was too disoriented to resist.

Emma sits there in the back seat, cursing her stupidity. She should have seen this coming the moment Lily smirked at her that first night. There were so many signs that the girl was a complete narcissist, and Emma had missed them all. How could she ever think Lily was her friend?

Emma reaches into the pocket of her pajama pants and clutches the small white stick she’d slipped inside before going to bed. Why she’d put it there, she doesn’t even know. She shouldn’t be surprised that Neal bailed on her after the way he reacted when she’d told him. He’d literally recoiled from her, his face pale.

Well, they’d taken care of her, hadn’t they? The expensive silver from the dining room slipped into her bag was an especially nice touch. A clean break from the girl who was nothing but a burden.

After all, what crew of teen runaways wants a pregnant seventeen year old?

Killian: Age 17

Killian’s eyes blink open drowsily, and he doesn’t feel particularly ready to get out of bed. He shoves his pillow under his chest, groans, and then reaches out to pull Milah close. All he feels is empty sheets. He rolls over to look around the cabin, and there she is, clad in her shift, her dark curls a riotous mess down her back. She’s standing in front of the wardrobe, running her fingers over the intricate carvings that cover the doors.

“How did you get this?” she asks.

Killian hops up out of bed, wrapping the sheets around his waist. “It’s um, always been here, even back when this was a naval ship.”

“What do you even keep in this thing?”

“No, don’t!” he shouts, slamming his good hand against the door before she can open it. He isn’t wearing his hook, so the sheets he was grasping tumble to the floor.

Milah looks him up and down appreciatively and smirks. “Though I like the view better without the sheet, why are you so jumpy about a piece of furniture?”

“I um . . . I just . . .” Killian snatches up the sheets and holds them in front of himself while he turns and presses his back to the wardrobe. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. This wardrobe - it’s magic.”

Milah’s eyes widen. “Magic? How?”

“It opens a portal to another realm.”

“Really?” she replies, skeptically. “Prove it.”

Killian blinks rapidly, his brain scrambling for a reply, but all that comes out is one word. “No.”

“No?” Her hands are on her hips, and her glare could curdle milk. “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything!”

“Then why are you blushing?”

He feels his cheeks heat even more under her icy stare. What’s he hiding? Only that he checks the wardrobe every day? That despite the fact that he cares deeply for Milah, he still sometimes wonders where Emma is and if she’s okay? He feels so nervous under Milah’s intense stare that he stumbles sideways when she shoves him in the shoulder.

“Milah!” he shouts as she flings open the wardrobe. He lets out a relieved breath when all that’s inside is an empty rod for hanging clothes.

“Is this some kind of joke?” she demands when she whirls back to face him.

Killian collapses on the edge of the bed and reaches out a hand to her. “Come here, and I’ll tell you.”

She eyes him warily but sits anyway. He runs his hand nervously through his hair, unsure where to begin. He finally decides to just start at the beginning when he was ten. Once he starts talking, he can’t seem to stop, and he tells her everything: his crush on Emma, the white rabbit, even the kiss. When he finally finishes, he looks at Milah sheepishly.

“I’m sorry.”

Milah smiles softly and cups his face gently. “Why? Because you loved someone before you met me?”

Killian blinks rapidly. “Loved?”

She shrugs. “I mean, it was puppy love, maybe, but it was real. And pretty cute, actually.”

He tilts his head in surprise. “Really?”

She brushes a kiss to his cheek. “Really.” She looks back over at the wardrobe. “So you were nervous that I might end up face to face with her. With Emma?”

Killian rubs his face. “Aye, I suppose.”

Milah laughs. “I guess that could have been awkward, especially since you’re wearing nothing but a sheet right now.”

Milah’s eyes turn a darker shade of gray as she runs her hands over his chest and pushes him back down on his cot. He was nervous six months ago when their relationship first turned physical. Milah was obviously very experienced and was used to men, not boys. Yet she told him as he held her close in the afterglow that before him, all she had known were men who took from her, often violently. He was different.

Still, there was a part of Milah he felt that he could never quite reach.Her homelife had been difficult and became worse once her mother remarried. However, she had never told him exactly what life had been like with her stepfather. All she would say was that the man had planned to marry her off to a local farmer when she was fourteen, so she’d run away. The thing was, she’d taken Mason with her. Killian knew there had to be more to the story than that.

It felt as if Milah was holding back when they were making love, too. She was definitely teaching him things, and he certainly didn’t mind that. It was more that she seemed to get uncomfortable anytime Killian tried to initiate anything. She wanted to be in control, so he let her. As long as she felt safe, that was all that mattered.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he had much to offer her. A seventeen year old boy with a mutilated stump instead of a left hand leading a crew of kids. Milah took to being a pirate naturally, however, wielding a sword and fighting just as well as the rest of them. There was even a type of manic joy on her face when they overtook a crew, as if she were getting vengeance on every man who had ever touched her.

Emma had always been a mystery to him, but it was because her entire existence felt like a fantasy. Milah was a mystery to him in a different way. She confused him and fascinated him in equal measure. She was a deep well, jaded and wounded, that he wasn’t sure he could ever plumb even though he wanted to. Thoughts of Emma Swan, though they still plagued him at times, seemed to belong to an entirely different boy. A boy he wasn’t sure still existed.

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @teamhook @bethacaciakay @let-it-raines @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @courtorderedcake @branlovestowrite @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ekr032-blog-blog @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @spartanguard @shireness-says @scientificapricot @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @snidgetsafan @ohmakemeahercules @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @nikkiemms@delirious-latenight-laughs

#cs ff #csrt #captain swan rewrite a thon #cs neverland au #cs canon divergence #magic wardrobe #soul mates #angst #childhood sweethearts #slow burn

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sqsupernova · 4 years

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ladyoutlier · 5 years

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A Demon’s Demons

In which Hell reunites Crowley with his Falling pains.

[Read on AO3] | [Read My Other Fics]

Prologue

In the deepest pits of Hell, below the torture cells and the mail room, existed a hallway that had been forgotten for longer than the Earth’s existence. Back when Hell lacked design and it was only a plane of fire and brimstone, this hallway was one of the first structures the Fallen created through their agonizing pain and scorched beings. As their wings burned and their chests collapsed with hollowness from their lack of Grace, the hallway came into existence as a way for them to rid themselves of the pain. They could hardly stand as a threat to Heaven when so horribly crippled from their Fall.

So the hallway became endless and gained many rooms that branched from it—one for each of the Fallen. And in these rooms, each newly born demon ripped themselves apart, tearing their Sins from their being. The Fall became a memory, moving into the past rather than living with them in every second of the present. The pain was gone, and the Fallen could live again.

Their Sins remained in their rooms behind doors with a thousand locks that were boarded up with a hundred planks. Left to the depths of Hell to be forgotten as the place of horror built on top of it for the next six thousand years. However, it was not gone. It merely continued to stir below the floorboards, waiting for someone to return. And after the End of the World was thwarted, someone who had never quite forgotten the hallway did return.

The hallway was dark and dusty but far from silent as Lord Beelzebub, accompanied by their right-hand demon Dagon, walked down it. Even through all the precautions, the doors rattled angrily as the Sins demanded to be freed. There were not a lot of things the Lord of Flies feared. Board meetings with Satan after particularly low months were one. A demon immune to holy water was another. And the Sins of a past better left forgotten were the most feared of all.

Still, one does not rise to Beelzebub’s position without the ability to press on in the face of fear, and so they walked on, footsteps echoing down the hallway barely audible above the smashing and banging of an army of Fallen’s Sins. The way forward and the way back were both consumed by darkness as the light flickered ominously above the two demons as they walked. Unlike the Sins, the dark didn’t trouble them. Those of Hell were all too familiar with it.

Beelzebub stopped before a door and gestured to it. “This izz the one.”

Dagon, Lord of the Files, looked to the door. A glowing signature that rather resembled a cursive letter ‘J’ burned above it. The door shook, and the chains barring it shut rattled. Dust puffed from the door’s seams as the Sins slammed against it from the other side.

“Shall I open it?” Dagon asked. “There’ll be no getting them back in there once it’s opened.”

“We may not be able to destroy Crowley, but that doesn’t mean we have to do him any favorzzz. If he wishes to live on Earth, let Earth have all of him.”

Dagon nodded and produced a crowbar. Board after board began to fall, clattering to the ground in a racket that was still drowned out by the noise of all the Sins. As the barricade weakened, the Sins behind the exiled demon’s door grew increasingly aggressive, pounding harder and more frequently. An eternity of waiting was coming to an end.

As the last board fell, Dagon’s crowbar became a key, and the locks and chains began to clatter to the concrete as well. There were still about ten locks on the door when the Sins busted it open. The dark spirits they embodied soared out from the crypt of a room in a frenzy.

The hallway, although it was as deep in Hell as it could get, froze over. Screaming far too high pitched to be heard brought a chill to the hallway’s only occupants. Not from the cold, but rather from the distress of the Sins. They were only held together by the knowledge that those particular Sins tearing about were not their own.

As the Sins fully grasped their newfound freedom, they gained direction and skyrocketed down the hall, eager to return to the being they haven’t seen since the Fall. He wouldn’t be hard to find. Long ago, they had been one after all.

Dagon and Beelzebub were left in the hallway alone. Although the Sins of every other demon remained behind all the other doors, this one spot in the hall had become eerily quiet. Yet, without the presence of the Sins, both demons felt more at ease.

“It izzz done,” Beelzebub began. “For his sake, I hope the betrayal waz worth it.”

As the Sins piloted their way through every layer of Hell, the demons occupying them all felt a rather uncomfortable shiver down their spines. As one might imagine, this was hardly a normal occurrence. An uncomfortable demon was as much an oxymoron as a faithless priest. Something quite devious had occurred, and all the Fallen of Hell were glad they weren’t on the receiving end of it.

Only God could make an angel Fall from Heaven. To Fall from Hell, on the other hand, required a whole lot less divine intervention as Crowley was soon to find out.

Chapter 1: Sharing Secrets

Meanwhile on Earth, an angel and a demon that had chosen humanity over their respective head offices were taking a nice after-dinner stroll through Green Park to where the demon had left his Bentley. They had many conversations over the years stemming from humanity’s true nature to the brain mass of aquatic animals. On this particular day, they were talking about their favorite decade of human culture.

“‘Course the mid-1800s were your time, angel. You haven’t updated your wardrobe since then.” Crowley eyed Aziraphale’s outfit and smirked. “Me though? Big fan of the 1960s.”

“The youth did become rather rowdy during that time,” Aziraphale replied, tearing off a piece of a leftover dinner roll to throw to a duck crossing their path.

The warm summer air was beginning to cool for the year, and this evening was a prime example of that. Although something else entirely might have been bringing the chill to Green Park on this night. Something that was currently racing down Piccadilly as they spoke. Regardless, it was a beautiful, romantic evening, and many couples could be spotted sharing body heat on the sporadic benches along the walking path.

Crowley very much wanted to share one of them with Aziraphale, but he shook that thought out of his head. There was one thing about the 1960s not at all related to human culture that he really didn’t like. One specific event in 1967 that keep him from moving too fast on those thoughts.

“Only you would describe the turf war between the mods and rockers with a term as mild as rowdy.” Crowley rolled his eyes with a shake of his head. “Oh, loved the chaos both sides brought about, although never could decide who had the most style.”

“Which side wore the suits? Found that to be a bit more charming than the leather jackets,” Aziraphale asked, wrapping the remainder of the roll in his handkerchief and tucking it into his pocket.

“The same side that rode scooters instead of motorbikes, so they lost any points they gained from attire there. I mean, really? Scooters? Who ever looked at one of those and thought that was the best way to get around?”

“Madame Tracy’s was a bit on the slow side. We would have straight up missed Armageddon had I not taken things into my own hands.”

“Exactly! The things have always been useless.”

“Seems like there were benefits to both sides then.”

“Why I never chose a side myself. Wanted the best of both—”

Crowley was harshly interrupted mid-sentence as a part of himself he abandoned over six thousand years ago finally caught up to him. He came to a complete standstill, and Aziraphale took a few more steps forward before looking back at him.

“Crowley, dear, are you alright?”

The demon stood petrified in place, mouth agape, as if he had just been shot through the neck which, in essence, he had been. He sputtered out a series of syllables which essentially translated into nothing before clutching his chest and falling to his knees.

Needless to say, Aziraphale panicked. His eyes went wide, and he ran up beside the demon and kneeled down to him. He clutched Crowley’s shoulder with one hand and his face with another. “Crowley, Crowley. Look at me! Oh, Heavens above. You have to tell me what’s wrong!”

The demon jittered rather irregularly. His sunglasses fell to the ground, revealing that his eyes were darting about in a similar fashion. Merely two words escaped his lips. “Holy fuck.”

Aziraphale gave up on holding Crowley’s shoulder, deciding instead to use his hands to cup Crowley’s face. “I’ve never seen you in such a state. Please, try to calm down. Take a breath. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on!”

“T—thought we all had forgotten about that.” A smile briefly flashed over Crowley’s face before falling back to distress. “I mean, I did. Until now that is.”

“You’re going to have to elaborate a bit more on that. Forgotten what?”

Crowley took a few breaths, slowly regaining his composure. The pain seemed to be subsiding. He pulled Aziraphale’s hands off his face. “Not—not here. Let’ssss just get sssomewhere more private.”

A few onlookers began to crowd. One lady, looking to do more than gawk, came up to the two.

“Is he alright?” she asked Aziraphale.

“Fine. Peachy.” Crowley answered for him. “Mind your own businesssss, lady. C’mon, angel, let’sss go before we attract a crowd.”

Aziraphale did not correct him that is was indeed just him that was gaining attention, and instead helped the demon to his feet. Crowley marched off in the direction he parked, and Aziraphale turned to apologize to the woman. However, neither did Crowley get that far or did Aziraphale get out his apology before the demon let out another garbled yell and fell back to the ground.

“Do you need me to call an ambulance?” The woman asked.

Crowley ignored her. “Aziraphale, just get us out of here.”

“But with all these people watching?”

“Who caresss? They’ll write it off as a group hallucination. I can’t—not here.”

Aziraphale blinked his eyes, coming back to grips with how dire the situation was with Crowley sprawled out in pain on the pavement. Yes, this called for quite the miracle despite how many witnesses were about. “Yes, alright. Very well.”

He snapped his fingers, and both he and Crowley disappeared from Green Park and appeared back at the familiar Soho bookshop. The demon growled and pounded the floor with his fist. Aziraphale, once again, went to his side to aid him.

“Crowley, please tell me something. You’re worrying me sick!”

“Worrying you? That’s the issue? Want to swap placesss?”

“Gladly. If it would at all help you!”

Crowley was silent. He looked down to the floor, huffing out heavy breaths. Once again, he seemed to be at a pause in the pain. It was almost as if—

“Well, aren’t I lucky?” the demon sneered.

“What do you mean by that? You aren’t answering any of my questions, Crowley.”

“J—just stay here. Don’t go anywhere, okay? I’ll tell you.”

“Of course, dear. I don’t plan on leaving you alone when you’re in such a state.”

“Yeah, well, yeah,” Crowley fumbled. “Listen. To put it briefly, Hell’s reunited me with all my Sins, and it’s rather painful.”

Aziraphale straightened up. “Reunited? I didn’t know it was possible to separate.”

“Demons have been doing it since the beginning. Falling hardly felt like warm, summer days and cool breezes. Left most of us unable to do much of anything. So we lobbed off the part causing the pain and moved on.”

“I see…”

“And Hell just handed me a box full of the things on my desk, and my Sins were right on top.”

“Why are you not then…” Aziraphale gestured with his hand. “...crying out now like you were a moment ago?”

Crowley made a rather strange expression. He cocked his head, curled his upper lip, and squinted his eyes which were still certainly visible due to his sunglasses being left behind in the park. A dozen or so words formed from his mouth before he landed on one. “You.”

“Me? What about me?” Aziraphale became rather flustered. “How could I be influencing this at all.”

“You have an, uh, angelic aura. Whole Falling pains revolving around us, well, y’know, losing that.”

“Oh.” The angel’s eyebrows furrowed, and an introspective look took over his face. “So, quite literally, my presence comforts you.”

“Yeah, I guess you could put it like that.”

“In that case, I won’t leave your side until we get all this sorted.”

Crowley’s eyes widened, and he babbled for a moment before pulling himself back into a neutral, less readable appearance. “This isn’t going to be as easy as you think.”

“Well, I’m involved either way. If I’m going to stay next to you to keep you from being distressed, I might as well provide my assistance in any other way possible as well. We’re in this together. Our own side, remember?”

“Using my own words against me, huh?”

“It’s only what you would do.”

“And since when did you start acting like me?”

“Oh, 1601 after I lost a coin flip with you, I believe,” Aziraphale said with a smug grin which became more serious as he returned to the topic at hand. “What exactly are the difficulties here? You were separate from your, um, Sins before. Can you not separate again?”

“Few issues with that.” Crowley stood up, feeling like himself with Aziraphale near. “Nowhere to box up the Sins once they’re out, and we wouldn’t even get that far. It’s a messy process. Removing them, that is. Highly doubt this body would survive that, and unless Adam’s handing out more, I’d be shit out of luck considering Hell’s not going to be keen on giving me one. You know, since they put me in this situation.”

“I see how that makes this tricky.”

“Tricky. Yeah, just the word I’d use.” Crowley rolled his eyes.

“We’d have to find some sort of get around, or an alternative solution.” Aziraphale gestured for Crowley to follow him and began walking to his backroom. “If you didn’t experience the pain, there would be no reason to go through the separation process. As we’ve discovered, my aura neutralizes it, but if we could find a way to cancel it out without my presence being necessary, you could simply continue on as normal.”

Aziraphale paced about his backroom. In all sense, having this conversation here rather than in the storefront made no difference in terms of privacy. The shop had been most definitely closed while they were out for dinner. Rather, the angel simply had a better time thinking clearly in this room. It had been where Crowley had talked him into thwarting the Apocalypse, and it was where he had studied Agnes Nutter’s book. If an idea were to strike him, it would be here.

“Are you just pondering out loud, or is this leading somewhere?” Crowley asked, taking a seat. “‘Cause I have absolutely no clue how to do what you’re suggesting.”

“Well, you could atone for them.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no. Yeah, uh huh. Sorry, no.”

“It is how humans overcome their own sins.”

“Yeah, but not human, am I? And I’ll tell you, there was plenty of trying that right after the Fall.”

“Perhaps, that was too soon. The meaning wasn’t there yet.”

“Wasn’t there yet? Oh, if you were anyone else, you stupid bastard.”

“Crowley, please calm down. I didn’t mean any offense by it. I’m only trying to find a way to help you.”

“No. I’m not—I’m not having this conversation. About atonement. About the Fall. None of it.”

Crowley stood and made an effort to leave the room. He got about as far as the doorway before the distance became too great, and he found himself gripping the doorframe in agony. Aziraphale took his arm, and despite his best attempts to shake him off, the angel’s persistence won out and he was returned to the couch. They were both silent as Crowley slowly relaxed.

“I know this is beyond personal,” Aziraphale began. “It’s why I haven’t asked once in the six thousand years I’ve known you. I always thought that if you wanted to tell me, you would. But I’m afraid that’s a luxury neither of us can any longer afford due to our current predicament and this information’s relevance to it. I enjoy your company quite a lot, dear. However, I think we would both quickly tire of the companionship if we could never travel further than ten steps from one another. And I’m your friend, Crowley. After all we’ve been through, you can tell me anything. So please tell me, what did you do to Fall?”

Crowley continued to sit hunched over from his place on the couch, showing no signs of having heard anything Aziraphale just said. Of course, he had. He just wasn’t sure how to react yet. If he had ever thought this conversation would be happening, he would’ve straight up avoided Aziraphale that day in Eden and on every day after. But it was too late for that, and now here the angel was asking something of Crowley he had never intended to give.

He would do anything for Aziraphale and had made a point to show it back in 1941. Crossing consecrated grounds to avert a mere discorporation was crazy, yet he would have done it a million times over. Actions were easy. Aziraphale was the focus. Questions were not. Which was really funny to him in a not at all funny way.

What Aziraphale wanted was something Crowley had been keeping to himself since, well, forever. It was impossible to give, but impossible hardly mattered when Aziraphale was involved. It was impossible for an angel and a demon to be friends. Yet, Aziraphale had said it himself. They were friends. And perhaps that mattered a bit more than keeping secrets. So Crowley decided to share a conversation only God and him had heard before.

“Look, angel, I really didn’t mean to Fall.” He broke his statue-like stillness to look to Aziraphale. “Really just found myself in a mess I couldn’t get out of.”

They were only a few words that hardly went into the specifics, but they still revealed quite a bit. More than Crowley had ever let anyone else know. That was for sure. For one, that he really wasn’t all that into the doom and gloom schtick Hell promoted. Of course, Aziraphale had already come to this conclusion many, many years ago. A demon could hardly show as much good as Crowley had over the centuries without coming across as a bit less than thrilled with their current employment. Still, this was delicate territory, and Aziraphale definitely recognized that.

“What kind of mess exactly? Would you be willing to tell me the story? Your version of it that is.”

Crowley looked up to the ceiling and bit the interior of his cheek. They were bad memories, and he’d much rather bury them in the back of his mind than share them to rot in Aziraphale’s instead. He didn’t want the angel’s pity or worse, his disappointment, but he had already decided to commit to this.

“Listen, before I tell you any of this, you have to remember that this was a different time,” he began. “Things like betrayal and hate and evil didn’t really exist yet. Wasn’t obvious like they are now. This is what made those things exist. So there’s good reason I didn’t see any of them coming.”

“I’m not going to judge you, Crowley.”

“You say that now.” The demon let out a sigh. “Really this whole mess of horrible events started with a chat with a soon-to-be Satan.”

[Chapter 2]

#Good Omens #Gomens #Ineffable Husbands #my writing

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takerfoxx · 5 years

Text

An entirely too long ramble about how much Imperfect Metamorphosis means to me

(Tumblr please actually show that submissions are not just text posts please)

So. It’s almost the last day of the decade. I usually get weirdly sad and nostalgic in the last 30 minutes of New Year’s Eve, but this time it’s been like, a whole week, and I’ve been reflecting on this decade as a whole as well as like, my path in life.

The 1990’s were the decade of my birth and early life.

The 2000’s were the decade of being REALLY into Harry Potter.

And my 2010’s were, wholly and singularly, defined and shaped by Touhou.

I got into Touhou sometime around Easter 2010 when McRoll’d came into my YouTube feed, and something about the music was just so god damned catchy I just had to know where it came from. So I discovered Flandre’s fight and from there, I learned just how great the music of this weird bullet hell game made by some rando in Japan. It quickly became my Thing. When I wasn’t playing sucking at the games, I was listening to the music, and if I wasn’t listening to the music, I was at school (where I’d probably not be paying attention let’s be real here).

So there I was, happily consuming fanart and fansongs and fangames and doing that little smile in appreciation when you see a reference to a thing you like (shoutout to raocow for also playing a few Touhou fangames way back when). It expanded my gaming interests into the sphere of “modding games to make them harder can be fun and cool”, which then lead to a general interest in playing modded and moddable games. It even made me interested in visiting Japan (on my bucket list), not in that stereotypical “weeb” way of visiting all the anime and manga stores, but more in the “something I like put a country on my radar and holy shit some of those restaurants, l want to eat at ALL of these places because they’re gorgeous” way.

You’ll notice that I specifically withheld from mentioning Fanfiction. See, as a teenager who did have the “try something once and if I don’t like it I’ll probably hate it forever because it’s always like that” mentality, I had the unfortunate experience of coming across My Immortal.

That, and the fact that one of my close friends in High School had taken to reading Twilight Fanfic (and complaining at almost every story she read and their bad use of tropes) kinda solidified fanfiction as “something dumb and stupid written by people who solely want to roleplay fucking the protagonist”. And on that pedestal sat the entire concept of fanfiction for a long-ass time (actually it was about a year and a bit).

Fast forward a while. Patchouli had cemented herself as All Time Favourite Character, I’d begun to grow out of my Harry Potter phase in search of new stories, and I’d made some new friends, one of whom said they read fanfiction all the time and some of it was actually better than original, published books because they had the freedom to explore ideas that weren’t entirely publishable. But also to roleplay fuck their waifus.

At some point in Summer 2011, not too long after it came out, I decided to replay Portal 2, and something about the story left me feeling… incomplete. Empty. I sought people discussing what they thought of the story and hidden nuggets of info peppered throughout the game, and at some long buried comment section on YouTube, someone mentioned how some fanfiction went into a headcanon and took it further. I read it, considered it for a moment, deemed it worthy of being called “not trash”, and immediately set to looking at the Touhou section on FF.net.

The first fanfics I read of Touhou were… Well, they were. There were some good ones and not so good ones. But they were all, in some way, at least interesting. I quickly discovered the frustration that New Friend had brought up once, of when you discover something great but it’s over all too soon. Setting FF.net’s search to include only 100k and up fanfics, I was delighted to discover that there was a fanfiction called “Imperfect Metamorphosis” that was over 350,000 words long. And then my carefully crafted plan of going to bed at a sensible time to maximise Summer Gaming Time was devoured by staying up until 4:30am, reading fanfiction on a shitty laptop that could barely run UFO. Thank fuck it was the summer holidays.

There was something special about Imperfect Metamorphosis. The characters all had their own personality, their own history, their own implied history beyond what was written, they had goals, thoughts, feelings, and different takes towards other people working to further their own goals. And it was all wrapped up in a package that started with a simple premise, grew to encompass a world more broad than mere canon or fanon, and then billowed into an eldritch monster of ungodly size (hi, Yuuka!)((kind of like this post huh)).

I was so fucking hooked on IM. I went back to school with theories buzzing about my brain as to what was going to end up happening, my mind wandering to the latest chapter and the bits I thought were cool, actually having the drive to focus and actually learn something about story structure in English Literature. I suddenly had the tiniest flame of interest in creating. Maybe one day I could write fanfic, and do my tiny part in expanding the universe of fan-content.

Regardless of the fact that my own attempts at conjuring stories weren’t successful (for a while), IM was there to be read throughout my last years of Normal Schooling, and it served as both a rock and an escape from the stress of school. I laughed with the jokes, I took Marisa’s death harder than the sum total of Harry Potter’s entire bodycount, and I could never hear Soulja Boi without thinking of Mima trolling Satori.

Just like how Touhou expanded my gaming and cultural horizons, Imperfect Metamorphosis expanded my horizon with Literature. I got into reading Neil Gaiman’s work, I read some Lovecraft, I consumed all kinds of works of fiction, across a multitude of genres, which all felt, in some way, like I was reading them because of IM. I mean I only started watching Madoka, and any anime beyond that, because of Resonance Days. Interesting way of coming across a show filled to the brim with spoilers.

It’s been three years since you put Imperfect Metamorphosis onto hiatus, and I have never read anything that has filled me with such emotion to the same extent. Other things have come close, some of them were even written by other people! (the most recent mega-update of Walpurgis Nights hit me particularly hard). And Swiftly Descending Darkness has been such a great read thus far, the slowly ramping tension is so. god. damned. good.

And as I think I mentioned a while back, I finally managed to start grinding out a touhou fic at my own, absolutely glacial, pace. I always find myself asking “is this canon to Touhou, or is it just canon to IM?”. The line has forever blurred in my mind.

I’m not asking anyone to read my work. This isn’t a plea for you to return to the original IM at any speed, I just wanted to say thank you.

Thank you for writing Imperfect Metamorphosis. For the work that’s been a steady constant throughout the vast, vast majority of this decade. For inspiring a wealth of emotions and ideas in the mind of a British guy who you’ll never meet. For just, plain writing a good story.

And for making Marisa the biggest badass to grace the land.

Here’s to the 2020’s not sucking, and to the ever expanding list of stories written by Internet user Takerfoxx. Here’s hoping you find great success.

Thank you.

P.S. Oh, and The Friend Who Said Fanfic Was Good Actually? They’re now my Fiancée, as of last month. Funny how the world works like that.

@diggertron, dude, you honestly have me feeling pretty humbled right now. I have to admit, it’s getting harder and harder not to see anything but the flaws when I look back on IM or RD, to the point when anyone compliments me about my writing my reflexive response is to be self-deprecating about my weaknesses, but this has helped me gain some more perspective about my older work, and for that I thank you, and am glad you have stuck around for so many years.

And congratulations on your engagement as well!

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